Running the Globe

2013 White Continent Marathon

February 27, 2013 by Joseph Coureur| 3 Comments

February 27, 2013
King George Island, Antarctica
GPX
Event website

Before I start, I want to make clear which race I’m running. There are three races on King George Island within the month:

The Last Marathon (Antarctica Marathon) by Marathon Tours. This is the original.
White Continent Marathon by Marathon Adventures
Maraton Antarctica by Olimpo Producciones
The Antarctica Ice Marathon by Polar Running Adventures

I did the Last Marathon in 2010, and I’m doing the White Continent Marathon this year. It’s mostly the same ground. The Ice Marathon goes down to 80°S and is actually on the continent proper. At breakfast one day this week, I talked to Brent Weigner, the only other early riser and a retired geography teacher, about what a “continent” really is. He’s one of the few people to have run all seven by the strictest definition. I’m not brave or rich enough to do the Ice Marathon yet. There’s a limit to the number of people any event can put ashore, so there’s been a long waiting list, me included, to do the original.

A couple of hours after the end of the Punta Arenas Marathon, we found out that we would leave for Antarctica at 1:30am, about 12 hours later, for a 3am flight to King George Island.

We were supposed to fly on Monday, but the island was covered in fog. Tuesday was no better, so we ran the Punta Arena race early and were on alert to fly at a moments notice if conditions were good in Antarctica.

Now we had a small window. After a two hour flight, we should arrive at 5am and have six hours on the ground. That’s the plan if everything goes well, the planets align, the gods smile, and the right butterfly in the Amazon flaps her wings just right. Windows can close faster than they open.

If you want to run in Antarctica, you have to be ready for disappointment. If you want the sure thing, run your local race (and that’s not even a sure thing, as the New York Marathon found out last year). In 2007, the Antarctica Marathon (“the Last Marathon”) run by Marathon Tours, which takes a ship across the Drake Passage, couldn’t land their zodiacs due to sea conditions so they ran 400 something laps on the ship. The Maraton Antarctica, run the day after this one, only had one finisher because the pilot made everyone get back on the plane after four hours. This year’s Antarctica Marathon was rescheduled after it’s charter ship struck an iceberg and wouldn’t be available for the trip. When I ran the Last Marathon in 2010, the weather was passable but awful.

When things go wrong in the Southern Ocean, people die. The operators there don’t mess around when it comes to safety margins. I don’t want to discourage you from any marathon in Antarctica, but you have to be ready to to spend a lot of money to possibly never set foot on the course. Get trip insurance and consider how much of your vacation time and money you might want to commit to something this risky.

Our own window was six hours. That’s from the wheels touching the runway to the wheels leaving the runway. That’s a tight schedule. Really good runners can run the King George Island course in four hours, but the rule of thumb is one and a half times your regular, non-adventure marathon time. That puts me between five and six hours. Now, further complicate that having finished a marathon about 20 hours ago, getting very little sleep, and flying. There’s a reason the race organizer is “Marathon Adventures”.

Aerovias DAP flies charters to Antarctica, and it’s the easiest flight I’ve had since 9/11, and maybe even ever. Chile considers a flight from Punta Arenas to the Chilean base at King George Island to be a domestic flight. Antarctica is not really a country, and no one is supposed to really claim ownership of it, but it reality, Chile and Argentina have strong interests for that section of the ocean and land.

DAP flies to the Chilean base on King George Island

My boarding pass

Bib handout was right before boarding. I got the same number as the previous day. There was no zone boarding, no assigned seats, no TSA. When the crew was ready, we walk out the doors and up to the plane that said “Antarctic Airways”.

Bib handout at the gate

Leaving on a jet plane

Most people were wiped out from the that day’s marathon or from the early start. I’m one of the few people who showed up wearing street clothes. I’d change on the plane when we got close so I didn’t have to wear my compression tights longer than I needed to. I figured the whole kit would be too warm for the plane.

Zayid Rahim is upbeat for his second marathon for his Grand Slam record attempt.

Some people try to sleep

To great applause, the plane touched down on the packed dirt runway under clear skies and what looked like a good day. Some people were happy for the good weather, but I was thinking that we’re lucky right now, but that could change quickly. It’s not a sure thing until we finish the marathon.

We were ready to run the moment we stepped off the plane. Everyone knew that time was tight so every minute might count. We landed a bit later than anticipated. With a bit of a walk from the plane parking area, we were falling behind. The weather doesn’t care about any of this. It was going to get bad on its own schedule.

On the ground in Antarctica

The southern coast of King George Island

Walking toward the hangar on our way to the start, we pass the Chilean welcome sign and a signpost showing just how far away we are from civilization.

A long way from anywhere

Welcome to Antarctica

The start area was spartan and had been set up by the local crew. There was a warm-up tent where we could store gear and a couple of latrine tents that were literally just a five gallon bucket. This is a self-supported marathon. You should have brought your own toilet paper.

The start area

When everyone had made it from the plane, the organizers pointed to a spot on the ground, told everyone to stand behind it, then started the marathon. The turn around point was about 3.5km away and we were running behind the truck taking that crew out there. We were on the course as it was being set up in front of us.

The start

The first part of the course is easy. We were on the high ground at the end of the runway, going east toward the Great Wall (Chinese) base. This portion of the course is mostly packed dirt. The sun was just coming up so it was still at or below freezing. The ground was solid so far. As it got warmer and seventy runners trampled it over six laps, it was going to get messy.

Many of the runners stopped halfway to the turn around to take a picture of the sunrise. The sun was coloring the broken clouds, and there was a mostly full moon still in the sky. Ideal conditions. So far.

We ran through the Chilean base a bit down the hill, and ran toward the Chinese base. There the road turned into loose gravel. Any low points were covered to stabilize the road. We would have to run through all of that.

The Chilean base

The Chinese (Great Wall) base

The landscapes are amazing. I’d like to see this route in Runner’s World “Rave Runs”. I wasn’t taking too many pictures. I’d do that on my last lap. That was my plan.

I was feeling okay for my first and second lap. I was certainly tired, but I wasn’t sore. I was taking it easy while still maintaining the pace I needed to finish on time. Somewhere in the middle of my run on the way back to the Chilean side I came across a bird and a penguin having a showdown. Neither wanted to move but they didn’t want the other one there.

Avian showdown

For most of the marathon, I put my head down and kept moving forward. Yesterday had been so friendly with everyone chatting and encouraging each other. Today, people weren’t surly, but they were certainly tired. We waved and maybe said one of two words, but people were keeping to themselves. We’d give a thumbs up or a wave, but I think everyone understood each other’s mental condition.

No matter how much I thought I was suffering (and it really is how much I think), there’s always someone suffering more. One of the runners was attempting a first in history: a barefoot marathon in Antarctica. He had some actual suffering going on as the rocks tore up his feet. You could find him by following the blood.

Eddie trying to be the first person to run a barefoot marathon in Antarctica

Toward the Chinese base

When the sun was fully up, the landscape became more striking. I didn’t take time to enjoy it. My plan was to get five of six laps out of the way then enjoy the scenery on the last lap. I figured that I’d use up most of the time, but if I made it to that last lap, I was pretty sure I’d have it made. That was my plan, anyway.

I was getting a little better each lap, I think, although I’m not really sure. Each lap seemed like it was taking less time, but I also think my perception of time was different. It’s always that way with laps, though. The first one seemingly takes forever because everything is new, while each successive lap presents nothing new. On lap four it seemed I turned around at the airstrip and looked up at the Chinese base.

I was walking the big hills by plan. I didn’t want to waste my energy, but more importantly I didn’t think I’d lose that much time. On my way up the big hill for the penultimate time I was feeling okay and anxious to be done. I was cooked, but at the turn around I’d have 7k to go. I’d already run 78km in about a day, so another 7k wasn’t that big a deal.

A big, muddy hill

As I got to the top of the hill, the finish line banner that had been there on the previous laps was already gone. I realized that no one had come back the other way for ten minutes. The race director was stopping runners at the top.

The pilot wanted to leave. The weather had been getting worse during the past hour. We had landed later than anticipated, started a little late instead of running directly off the plane, and there wasn’t enough of a margin to let us start another whole lap even though we could complete most of it. The race was over, at least for the Antarctica portion. Some people tried to stretch out their distance by running in circles and letting their GPS keep track of it. I ran with them for a bit just to keep warm.

I got back on the plane, which was the worst part of the day. As I cooled down, I was wet and cold. I changed back into my street clothes. I had no idea how this was going to play out. I’d run over 21 miles and I’d done it a bit faster than I thought I would. I was far ahead of my time from my previous marathon here. The logistics just weren’t working out and I, along with others, got caught up by a shortened time limit.

Although I didn’t like the situation, I think the air crew and organizers made the right decision. This is what Antarctic travel is. When we checked the weather web cams later, we saw that indeed the base was covered in fog just an hour after we left.

This left it to the organizers to come up with Plan B. I don’t know what the standards are there. How do you treat an event that is shortened due to weather, or where people were making proper progress but the event is cut short for safety? I have no idea what people think about that and people can make their own judgement. The organizers decided to let people finish their distance in Punta Arenas. When we got back to the hotel, we’d have 30 minutes to make it to the start line to run our last laps.

I would have rather finished the distance on the Antarctica course, and maybe I could have done that if I’d spent a bit more energy out there, but that’s not what happened. Shoulda woulda coulda. I feel good about my run. In my mind, it counts, but perhaps with an asterisk. It’s a better story though, and that’s what adventure is all about.

My second go around on the Seven Continents

Besides my medal as an official(*) finisher, I got an Antarctic penguin stamp in my passport.

So, there it is, my second(*) circuit of the Seven Continents. Now it’s time to get to work on that third circuit. I’m no closer to being the person having done it the most since Brent Weigner ran this race to finish his eighth circuit.

For an inaugural event on one of the most remote and inhospital environments, everything worked out beyond my expectations. We actually made it to the White Continent, and there was great weather for a couple of hours. I got to see a penguin. I didn’t die. I ran my first double, even if I did have a big break at the end.

But, I also don’t see the event going off any better than we had it. The day after our race, Olimpo.cl tried the same thing but had to leave after four hours and with only one finisher. I want to run more marathons here, but I think the best bet is still to show up on a ship. At least there you can show up the day before and stay that night. You also get to see a lot more of the continent. I’m still on the waitlist for the next Antarctica Marathon, and you should sign up soon if you want to run it within the next decade.

2013 Punta Arenas Marathon

February 26, 2013 by Joseph Coureur| Comments Off

February 26, 2013
Punta Arenas, Chile
GPX
Event website

“Run this like an ultra! You may have to run another marathon tonight!” said Steve Hibbs of Marathon Adventures, the race organizer for the Punta Arenas Marathon. This race was originally scheduled later in the week, but we also should have been in Antarctica yesterday. Since our plane would not have been able to land in the fog, we didn’t go. We could go today either, so here we were at the start line along the waterfront across the street from our hotel.

Punta Arenas is one of the gateways to Antarctica, either by boat or plane. No travel to Antarctica is a sure thing, so we have to hang out here while we wait for a good time to fly out. We might as well use that time to run a second marathon while we’re here. MArathon Adventures put everything together especially for people working on completing the Seven Continents. The unofficial name is “The $50,000 Club”, mostly just from the extensive and exotic travel. With this one trip, people can take care of two continents on one trip. It’s two adventure marathons for the price of one.

If everything had worked out perfectly, we would have run the Punta Arenas and White Continent Marathons a couple of days apart. With most thing austral, however, perfect didn’t show up. We couldn’t land at King George Island on Monday due to fog, and Tuesday wasn’t looking good either. Plan C was the Punta Arenas marathon on Tuesday. Instead of running on Monday, we had a chance to look around the town, and the evening, we took a two hour ferry ride to visit
Monumento Natural Los Pingüinos on Isla Magdalena.

The lighthouse at the top of the Isla Magdalena

The weather didn’t clear for Tuesday, so the Punta Arenas race was on. It’s easy to reschedule. This isn’t the sort of marathon that stops traffic, needs hordes of volunteers, or has spectators. This one won’t make the evening news or the morning papers. There’s no expo, no sponsors, and no product placement. There’s no poorly mixed Powerade or Gatorade handed out by volunteers from church groups, civic organizations, or running store staff. Runners supply whatever they need or want for their run.

Brent Weigner talking to race organizer Steve Hibbs

These are seventy dedicated runners, not all of them Olympians or Boston-qualifiers, who will run a marathon literally anywhere in the world, including the North Pole, the South Pole, across deserts and over mountains, in all 50 US States, all Canadian provinces, every Australia Territory, and whatever unnatural set we can come up with. I’m completing my second circuit of the Seven Continents, and I’m one of the least accomplished and least ambitious of this group. I may run marathons, but the person next to me at dinner swam the English Channel. Several people have completed full Ironmans.

Almost no one talks about times because they don’t race against other people, even if they do win. They push themselves beyond their own perceived limits and travel the world doing it. The conversations and temporary bonds are amazing, mostly because this narrow special interest doesn’t make for good conversation outside of the group. Non-runners and non-travelers not only think these people are crazy at best, but tedious and boring.

The start area on the waterfront

The start area was across the street from the hotel, which made it easy to roll out of bed and make it to the race. Everything is informal and fluid. This small race was four out-and-back loops along the waterfront. This is a great way to run a small race because you see people coming and going, giving and receiving encouragement along the way. Someone once told me that cycling was the only sport that allowed spectators so close to the athletes. It’s just not true. Marathoning lets you participate in the same event. And, with short loops, it’s easy to support yourself by leaving bottle and whatnot at the turn-arounds.

Zayid, in green, wants to complete a Grand Slam (Seven Continents and North Pole) in seven weeks, which will be a record.

On one side of the course is the main highway, and on the other is the Strait of Magellan. On the first run toward the turn around point, I spotted a pod of dolphin (or maybe porpoises) feeding about 100 yards offshore. They stayed in one area swimming in circles, emerging and submerging, quickly. There aren’t many marathons where you get such a treat. On my last leg, I spotted a sea lion come up onto the rocky beach to sniff around for treats. With the clear water, I could see him as he went back in and sniffed along the shallow bottom before disappearing into some kelp.

A bust of Magellan overlooking his Strait

Since I had to possibility of running another marathon today, which they call “a double”, I took it easy. It’s a good enough excuse to not suffer as much as I could. I found some other runners going at a reasonable pace and stuck with them. The big marathons attract individuals who largely try to ignore the tens of thousands of other runners around them, but not here. I like what I’m about to accomplish, but the conversations are even better; if I have to sacrifice some time, so be it. Several people have been to Punta Arenas before, so I mine them for restaurant and sightseeing recommendations.

Curiously, although not surprisingly when I think about it, I always seem to run into people I’ve already run with somewhere else in the world. I had met Brent Weigner in Port Douglas after the Solar Eclipse Marathon and shared a taxi with him here, for instance.

Someone lost their head

After 15 miles, I was feeling pretty bad. My legs, and especially my hips, were really sore in a way that I haven’t experienced for a long time and that I shouldn’t be feeling here. Fifteen miles isn’t long enough for me to be that sore on a mostly flat, paved course. But, that’s the trick. It isn’t paved; it’s concrete. The sidewalks and the cycling path are concrete, but so are all of the roads. I hadn’t seen any asphalt in town at all. Running on concrete is painful in the sort of way that non-runners (including me four years ago) don’t think about and short distance runners get away with. Concrete doesn’t give as much as asphalt, which is really just a thin layer of macadam over packed dirt or gravel.

I needed to take a bathroom break and I wanted to change out of my tights and long sleeve shirt now that the sun was out. Punta is normally windy, but not today. Since the turn around is right next to the hotel where we all had rooms, there were no porta-potties. After my third (penultimate) lap, I went up to my room for my break, a costume change, and, hey, while I’m up there, a Coke and some Advil. I was in no hurry to get back down, either. With no set cut-off time, I also considered taking a nap or watching some TV before I started again. The more I delay the longer it takes and the less time I have to recover before running in Antarctica, which might be later today.

So, despite my aching hips and knees, I finished my last lap, completing my second South American marathon and putting me one race away from my second Seven Continents.

Finally done

The course ended up being long by a mile, making this an ultra-marathon I guess.

Before dinner that night we got word that we’d leave for the airport and our flight to Antarctica at 1:30am for a 5am start time. With the 8:30am start time today, that would mean that I’d run most of two marathons in less than 24 hours.

New York’s Central Park

February 5, 2013 by Joseph Coureur| Comments Off

February 4, 2013
New York, NY
18 miles
GPX

I go to New York often and I always look forward to running in Central Park. It’s a great run and unlike Chicago, it has hills. You might think of Manhattan as flat (or gently sloping up toward the north), but the park rises above the city streets. As such, my puny hill muscles get quite a workout while in New York and I feel much differently exhausted after a long run.

Travel Reviews, Tips & Ideas

Besides the miles of paths inside the park, there’s a perimeter road that goes around the park. At night it’s mostly closed off to traffic, but even then there are very wide pedestrian and bike lanes.

You might have heard horror stories of crime in the park for the old days, but I’ve been running at all times of day and night and always see many other people out there, including women by themselves.

I go to Columbus Circle; there’s a subway stop there. If I need anything before I start to run, such as a gel, I can go into the New York Running Company that’s in the Shops at Columbus Circle.

Click for the big panorama of Columbus Circle

On the north side of the Circle is a CNN sign the gives the time and the temperature. This picture comes from the next day; I was out at 6PM and it was 25 F.

I start at the USS Maine Memorial. When it’s not winter there’s a working water fountain there. There might be a working one in the winter too, but I’ve never thought to check since Chicago turns off their fountains around November.

I go counterclockwise, and there are many other people doing that too, but there are plenty of people going in the other direction. Maybe on my next run I’ll try it the other way around. I think the hills are steeper going up my way and longer going up the other way. Maybe not.

The entire loop around the park is just over six miles, meaning that a half marathon run is a bit more two laps. Tonight I was out to run three laps. I’d run the first two at my normal pace then see how things were going when I started the third lap. I planned to use the excuse that I’d take pictures on that lap so I could take a couple of breaks.

I haven’t run Central Park enough to know exactly where I am based on the road and which curve I’m on. Sometime during the second lap I started thinking about how I’d tell somewhere where I was if I broke my ankle. I could them them that I was a half mile away from a particular exit that I may have passed a couple of minutes ago, but I would be hard up to come up with something more exact.

I started looking at the light poles, all of which are labeled with a letter and four digits. I didn’t look at every one, but as I went north I noticed that the numbers were generally increasing. That is, they were increasing to I got to 100th St, when the number on the next pole decreased 9,900. At that point I realized what was happening. The first two digits were the street number; when the number gets to 100 it drops the first digit. The next two digits are the lamp post number within that block. The odd numbers are on the inside of the park and the even numbers are on the outside of the road. Each lamp is about 60 paces apart. I figured that the E signified that this was an East Side lamppost, but I had about a mile of running before I could check if the other side had a W.

Around 106th St, the road curves back around on itself and then goes back north, making a bit of a U. From there, the first two digits on the posts stayed the same and the last two numbers were higher. At 109th St, the lampposts keep the E even when I’m definitely on the West Side. I thought maybe my idea was busted, but at 108th St the lampposts converted to W.

From there, I had plenty to think about as I ran. I was counting down the blocks by paying attention to the lampposts. I had 40 blocks to go, then 30 blocks, and so on. Every ten blocks I got a new first digit.

On the third lap I knew I was going to take some pictures, even though my iPhone camera does quite poorly at night.

Around 80th St I run past the Metropolitan Museum of Art, which is actually in the park. From several windows you can look out at the park.

My favorite part of the museum is the egyptian Temple of Dendur. Its windows to the park look north; the view from the inside is better than the view from the outside.

At 88th St., there’s the Guggenheim Museum, which is probably the only Frank Lloyd Wright building that makes any sense as a building. It doesn’t have the low ceilings, wasted space, and maintenance problems that I see in his houses in the Midwest. The art gallery spirals around a central open atrium. You can go to the top by elevator then work your way down as you gradually descend.

A little farther north, around 90th St (I should have been taking notes from the lampposts), there’s the statue of New York marathon founder Fred Lebow. I have yet to run the New York Marathon, and it looks like it won’t be this year since they have all of the 2012 runners to accomodate after Hurricane Sandy shut down the race last year.

At the top of the park, the road turns the to west a bit before going north again, making the road take the general shape of the island itself. At the top there’s a recreation center that has a couple of hockey rinks.

Running down the West Side, I stopped to get pictures at the reservoir. The skyline looked wonderful with nothing else in front of it and the Empire State Building was lit in blue and orange in remembrance of Ed Koch. The iPhone camera couldn’t really get it though.

If I wanted to stretch out my run to a half marathon distance, I could take a detour here to run around the reservoir then finish my second lap of the park. There’s also a smaller road loop on the lower part of the park where I can do the same thing.

I wanted to get a picture of the American Museum of Natural History, but it was too dark and there was too much stuff in the way. Unlike the Met, this Museum isn’t inside the park. It’s across the street.

At 79th St, I found that the Swedish Cottage had open restrooms. After being out for a couple of hours, I needed that. I was starting to look for a spot with thick bushes.

I finished my third lap. For the last half mile or so I can see the CNN sign that gives the time and temperature, which makes the end seem deceptively close. I finished where I started, at the USS Maine Memorial and got into the subway station to get warm (but it’s cold down there too until I get on the train).

Curiously, it looks like my feet sweated quite a bit. I had weird salt patterns on my shoes.

And, the best part of finishing at Columbus Circle is rewarding myself with a hot dog. I didn’t do that this night, but it’s always an option. There’s also a Whole Foods in The Shops or plenty of places where I could pick up a chocolate milk.

Desert Double Down Medal

January 21, 2013 by Joseph Coureur| Comments Off

I’ve done 2012 Zappos Las Vegas “Strip at Night” Rock ‘n’ Roll Marathon and the 2013 P.F. Chang’s Arizona Rock ‘n’ Roll Marathon. This is the only Heavy Medal that combines two calendar years, and the last one I needed to complete my collection of domestic bonus bling. The only thing left is the World Tour Medal, and I already registered for the Edinburgh Rock ‘n’ Roll Half Marathon.

2013 Arizona Rock ‘n’ Roll

January 20, 2013 by Joseph Coureur| Comments Off

January 20, 2013
Phoenix, AZ
GPX
Event website

Wow. I set a new personal best by a little over five minutes, even though I went out today hoping just to run 20 miles without killing myself.

My training has been off since the Las Vegas Marathon. I took a short break, but when I came back, I didn’t keep to my usual running schedule. Along with that, I bumped up my usual run from eight to 10 miles and am still getting used to that.

Phoenix, being in the desert, can be both brutally cold and brutally hot on the same day. The prior week had been around freezing with highs that weren’t too low, and I would have liked to run in that weather. Today started in the 40s and ended somewhere in the 70s. The start and the first part of the marathon were pleasant, but the end was brutal and even a little dangerous for me.

Phoenix
Travel Guide & Reviews

This Rock ‘n’ Roll event was different than the other ones. They added a bike event that mostly followed the marathon course and the half marathoners had a completely different course without even a shared finish. Everyone I started running with would be with me the entire course—none of this splitting off at Mile 13 where everything is suddenly lonely.

They also did away with the wave starts. With only 3,500 runners, they let everyone go at once. With downtown Phoenix’s wide roads, this wasn’t a problem. Everyone found their space quickly. Talking to one of the runners, I found out that PF Chang’s, the title sponsor, is a local company. I hadn’t thought about that since they had a big presence at the Chicago Half Marathon too.

Around Mile 2, I saw a guy carrying an American flag. His shirt said he was going to run from Alaska to Florida, but I’ve forgotten the details. I always think I’ll remember these things, but 20 miles later I can’t remember what day it is (Sunday is always a good guess when the paramedics ask). We talked about extreme endurance running for a it, but he was running a 9:00 minute pace, which I was comfortable with at the time, but I didn’t want to hurt that much later, so I dropped back.

A couple miles later I saw a women with an orange long sleeve Goofy Challenge shirt. What the hell? The year I run it it was boring colors. I ran with her for a bit and we talked about upcoming Disney races, including the Dumbo Double Dare which combines a 10k and a half marathon. There’s also the Family 5k Fun Run to make it a three race weekend. Unfortunately the 10k is already sold out so I’m out of luck. I’ve already done the Star Tours 5k and the half marathon and the Coast-to-Coast Challenge so I’m not interested unless I get to do something new.

From there it was just boring running. Mentally, this was a tough race for me and I had a tough time keeping my mind under control. For some reason I was much more defeatish than normal during this run. Maybe my new way of dividing up the race left my brain uneasy.

My ten miles normal runs made it easier to think about the marathon distance and intermediate goals. The first ten miles were no problem because I’ve been running that every time. Instead of thinking about the race in terms of six mile (or, 10k) groups like I used to do, where each intermediate goal is pretty close, I’m now used to thinking about eight, seven, or six miles to go. I’m used to that rhythm of running and judging my body’s feedback for that. I took a very short nutrition break at Mile 9, since that’s where they put the Gu station, but other than that, I just kept running instead of thinking about the next break.

In past events, my first goal was to get to halfway, then get to Miles 15 and 18, then survive the rest. At each of those intermediate goals I mentally have the permission to take a break. I also break the race into the uneven thirds of nine miles, nine miles, and eight miles. The first third is just warm up and I try to not exert myself. That doesn’t always work because I get caught up in the excitement of the start, running 8:00 minute paces for the first two miles without realizing it then use the rest of the first third to back off enough to recover for the long journey. The middle third is where I do the hard work to bring my average pace down to where I want it to be. The last third I try to keep that average pace down, which I usually don’t.

This time, with my new mental yardsticks, I ran the first ten like I would a training run. No problem. I run at least ten miles every time I go out. When I got to Mile 10, I shifted into thinking “Eight miles to the start of the last third”. I’ve been used to counting down from ten miles, too, so this wasn’t a problem. I wasn’t thinking about halfway and Mile 15 like I normally do. Around Mile 12 there was a nice downhill portion where I took a couple seconds off my average pace without really trying. A couple seconds that late in the race is a significant bump in pace. I was feeling fine—not particularly good but not bad—so I worked to maintain that new average. I was starting to get a little excited. I was in the right place for a personal best, but it was too early to think about that. I kept thinking about that.

Miles 14 to 20 were a little out and back portion to stretch out the distance and the touch Scottsdale. The bike course had skipped this portion. I don’t know why the cyclists would go less far than the runners—that just seems wrong. I wanted to take a bathroom break around Mile 14, but I saw on this little out and back portion that there were porta-potties at Mile 18, so I’d just stop there.

I was still feeling good at the turn around for this portion and started to think that I had a chance at a new best time. That’s always a dangerous thing to think, so I don’t let myself think about it until Mile 18. I run my race based on how I feel, and if I get that far and feel good enough, I’ll go for it. I decided to go for it.

I planned to take a break at Mile 18 to use the porta-potties, but I thought there would be a water stop there too. There was one, I’m sure, because there was a big cluster of used cups and wet pavement. I decided I’d keep running to the next water stop and use the porta-potties there. But, it never worked out. I just kept running, with a very short walk break at Mile 19 to eat another Gu.

And, it was here that things started to get bad. It was getting hot and there wasn’t much shade. When the Arizona sun is out, you feel it. I was on a good pace, I was almost done, and I figured I could handle it. I kept running, but the heat was getting to me. I wasn’t sweating as much I should have been even though I was taking two or three cups of water at each stop. I was feeling flushed. I don’t do well in the heat and get very conservative since I’ve gone down with heat exhaustion before. But, I was on a good pace for a personal best even if I slowed down for a little. That’s a lot different than having to speed up a little to beat a time.

I took a short walk break at Mile 23 where there was an overpass hill. The salt was a fine dust on my head. That’s not good. I hadn’t thought to bring a hat or the sweatband I normally use, but nothing was dripping in my eyes. This was not good.

I ran to Mile 24, but was definitely pushing my limit. My legs felt great and even the knots in my calf I’ve dealt with for three weeks worked themselves out. My hip joints had no complaints, which is odd for me for four hours of running. I was physically feeling the best I probably ever had in a marathon. Usually this last bit is just pain endurance.

I was doing the math. I was at Mile 23 at 3:45. My previous best time was at the Wisconsin Marathon with something like 4h 21m. With a 5k to go, I could run it in 35 minutes and still beat my best time. But, I was feeling the start of heat exhaustion too. I know how that feels. At Mile 24 I walked for 200 steps and ran for 800, then did it again. That got me to Mile 25. I ran all of that last mile but it was bordering on stupid. The 4:00 pacer past me around half way but no 4:15 pacer had passed me. I don’t know if there was one, but I know that’s the pace I was on.

At Mile 26 I was feeling a bit woozy. Again, stupid. If I hadn’t been close to a best time, I would have spent a lot more time walking and would have probably felt better. But, as I thought to myself, that would have meant more time in the sun. I walked 100 steps and jogged it in to beat my best time just on gun time. I stopped my watch without looking at it, stumbled a bit down the shoot, and told the first medical person I wasn’t doing well.

Happy that I’ve finished

Sad that I’m in the medical tent

I might have been able to recover on my own, but I’m glad I went to the medical tent. There was no shade in the chute or past it. Not only that, there was no water or Gatorade at the end of the chute as there normally is. That’s a bit disappointing since I was at the convenience store the night before stocking up on my post-race stuff and specifically decided not to buy Gatorade as I normally do since I end up with too much with the bottles they give out for free. The one time I don’t buy it they don’t provide it. When the race entry is over $100, people come to expect this level of service.

Past the chute was Sun Devil Stadium and Packard Field, a big frying pan of a parking lot where I needed to find my Desert Double Down medal for doing the Las Vegas and Arizona marathons back to back.

The bike portion had ended here, but they were mostly gone. There was one guy who biked and ran at the same time. Since the bike course was only 20 miles, he only got the bike medal.

They have a Victory Bell that calls people to the football stadium before a game. I thought about ringing it but the clanger was wisely locked to the side. Football is a big deal down here, and Frank Kush is a big deal in Arizona football. All I know is that he has a stadium named for him and a statue.

I looked at my watch on the way back to Phoenix on the train—4:16:39. I didn’t beat 4:15.

And here’s where I really have to gripe. I don’t mind these point-to-point races so much, and in the other events there was a convenient shuttle provided by the race. This time, the race dumped all of that on the Valley Metro, which was not so close to the finish line and required runners to pay to get back to the start. When I’ve done this in other cities, your bib or medal was your train ticket. AZCentral.com estimated the economic impact at $58 million. With that, I think they could have let go of $6,000 in possible train fares, especially when only one ticket machine is actually working and there’s a long line of haggard marathoners withering in the sun to stand in line to use it. There was much grumbling about this on the platform and it’s the last memory those people will have of the area.

Once I got back to downtown, I wanted to just go back to my hotel but I was so parched that I ducked into Five Guys for a treat. I didn’t really feel like eating so I didn’t finish my little cheeseburger and fries, but I guzzled plenty of Grape Fanta. I’d still feel dehydrated the rest of the day. I think I gained five pounds of water weight.

Later that night I went out for a proper recovery meal at Rustler’s Rooste. They must have made marathoners in mind because they have a slide to get to the lower dining room.

Epic North Channel Run

January 15, 2013 by Joseph Coureur| Comments Off

January 14, 2013
Chicago, IL
18 miles
GPX

I had an epic 18 mile run last night. I wanted to do a little exploring along the Chicago River and test out some clothes for below freezing temps. I want to see what I can get away with in really cold runs. This run felt like it was three runs in one.

The weekend was weird. It was warm on Saturday but it was supposed to drop below freezing and snow on Sunday. I wanted to run in the snow so I kept waiting for it, but it never showed up. Monday was supposed to see snow, but it was clear. I gave up on the snow and went out around 9 PM.

I should have gone much earlier in the day because I wanted to explore the Northshore Sculpture Park and Channel Park. I see these parks as I come back from the airport and drive up McCormick. They’re thin and long, go along the river, and have bike paths. I wanted to follow them as far north as I could. Looking at Google Earth, I could see that the paths weren’t continuous, so making it all the way to Wilmette would be interesting.

It was -5 C when I started. I bundled up in my fleecey Monster Dash long sleeve tech hoodie, an outer jacket, balaclava, winter hat, and light gloves. I stashed some thicker gloves in my camelbak just in case. I also brought along my ski googles. I didn’t think it would snow, but I could cover my face to keep it warm if I thought frostbite would be a problem. I was going to be out there for three or more (probably more) hours.

Dirty Girl gaiters keep the wind off my ankles

I look like a crazy person

The first part was a couple miles done Rogers to Touhy to make it out to McCormick, which is the slightly safer option to Howard St. That was pretty cold, but the first half hour is always the worst because my skin isn’t numb yet and I’m not warmed up. I pulled out my googles and put them on. In my black tights, balaclava, and hat, I figure I must have looked like some wannabe ninja.

I crossed the bridge to get onto McCormick and the west bank of the river. Since I’m still in Chicago, I’m in Channel Runne Park. It’s littered with dubious sculptures which I imagine were high school or college projects:

This sculpture is part of the Skokie Northshore Channel Park located on the East side of McCormick Ave, North of Devon Ave

Inside Plant, Andy Zimmerman by Jovan Peric, on Flickr

Skokie North Shore Sculpture Park (North Shore Channel Trail)

Once I got to the path, I turned north and was off. But, at every major street I had to stop and wait for the lights. I don’t know how people get any running done like this. I’m used to running along the lake where I almost never have to stop. It was on my Kenilworth run last week where my right calf seized up at an intersection. It’s still tight and painful, but that’s life. My calf actually feels better running once I’m warmed up.

About half way up the first block, I saw a coyote. I’m pretty sure it’s a coyote because it spotted me too and ran off, which dogs don’t tend to do. The giveaway is the silhouette of the tail and ears. This is only the second time I’ve seen a coyote on a run in Chicago.

Coyote by Moosicorn, on Flickr

The rest of this park is fine, although everything seems to a coyote shadow. I stay on the path and clap my hands sometimes to make some noise. Maybe I should get some bear bells.

McCormick Head in Early Spring by auntjojo, on Flickr. This was south of where I actually ran

North of Howard Street, this turns into Skokie’s Northshore Channel Park, which also has sculptures. by that time I was feeling pretty warm so I took off my outer jacket. Without it I knew I was cold, but it wasn’t that bad.

Skokie Northshore Channel Park by Chicago’s North Shore Conventions & Visitors Burea, on Flickr

The path here is also asphalt and twisty, until it gets to Emerson, where the path turns into packed dirt and the gardens are much more interesting. When I was distracted looking at a garden as I was running by, I tripped on a wooden step sticking out of the ground. It wasn’t a nasty fall but I did hit hard. I took a minute to ensure that I was okay before I got up. Nothing was broken and I felt like I might be bleeding from my knee, but my tights weren’t torn so I didn’t worry about it. I thought briefly about calling it a night, but hey, no excuses! I continued. Back at home I’d get a look at my knee:

Not as bad as I thought

And when I took off my gloves, I found I’d torn up my right one:

One of the reasons I buy the $1 gloves

That felt like the first run and the fall gave it closure. That run was easy because the path was apparent. The next part was not so easy.

A bit north of there I came up on Skokie’s Circle of Flags. I stopped to read the plaques because I wondered why the Swedish flag was flown in the center next to the US flag. The plaques weren’t informative but mentioned “the events of July 2, 1999″. I have no idea what that means. Later I found that refers to a killing spree by Benjamin Nathaniel Smith, a white supremacist. Skokie’s response was a multi-cultural installation of national identity.

Skokie Circle of Flags by Zol87, on Flickr

From there I kept running north. There’s nothing to think about since I just follow the path. At Green Bay Road things get weird. It’s a T intersection where the path disappears. I knew I could cut it again, but I didn’t know where to do this. The landscape isn’t as apparent in the dark, even with Google Maps on my phone.

I took the first underpass to get to the other side of the train tracks, then got lost a bit. I was in a residential neighborhood on a below freezing night dressed mostly in black. And, I was on the east side of the river when I wanted to be the other side.

I didn’t know what was alley and what was driveway. I got a little lost then backtracked to to the first right even though it looked like a driveway. It let out on the other side of the houses into a park. After wandering a bit and taking a few wrong turns, I discovered a pedestrian bridge across the river to get back on the west bank. There was a short path that suddenly disappear. I was on a golf course! I remember seeing a hint of that on the map.

I ran through the golf course, with the frozen grass crunching under my feet. I knew I could only run on this side of the river until Central Avenue since I didn’t think I could get across the El tracks right above Central.

At Central I get back on the road and take the first left to run along Evanston Hospital on the road until I can pick up the trail again, a couple blocks later. It’s still a golf course. Once I get on the path, I can see the Bahá’í temple where I turn around on my usual runs. I had tried to find the trailhead from the other side, but had so far been stymied by snow. When I get out to the street, I discover my problem. It looks like I’m in someone’s driveway, although I’m not. It’s a wide dirt path that looks like a road. It’s right before the start of the east side of the bridge.

I love this aerial photo of the temple. You can see the thin line of the river. Under those trees are the path I took. When I come out to Sheridan, I go north crossing the bridge you see, then run along the outside of the park. On the north side of the small marina is a small Coast Guard station.

Bahá’í temple from the air. by clarkmaxwell, on Flickr

Now I know how to get from the Bahá’í temple to Touhy along the river, which is the reason I went out exploring. I got lost a couple of times and there are some parts of the route that I can refine, which would probably bring it down to 7.5 miles from the 8.1 my Garmin said at the time. This was the end of the the second run. Now I was back in familiar territory and close to the Purple Line so I had a way to quit should I need it.

I wanted to run 18 miles and I know it’s 5.5 miles from here to home. I need five more miles to stretch this out. I get out to Sheridan and go north for a little over two miles, leaving Wilmette and crossing the border to Kenilworth. A lot of this run is on a bricked road, which isn’t pleasant on the joints.

These suck for running

I touched the Kenilworth sign and turned around to go back to the Bahá’í temple. I like the Wilmette boundary markers. Now that I was close to the lake I picked up a bit of a breeze, making me a bit chilly. I didn’t stop to put on my jacket, but my Monster Dash shirt wasn’t doing it. I guess it’s limit is about -7 C. Good to know.

Now leaving Wilmette

After that it was just the same-ol’ same-ol’ run that I usually do. I stretched it out with some extras to put in an extra half mile. I took a short nutrition break at 13.5 miles, which I planned two miles ahead of time by slipping a gel into my glove to warm it up. After a couple hours in below freezing weather, those gels get thick.

Once I got running again I thought I might take another break at two miles to go, but I kept running. I thought I might stop for a drink at one mile to go, but I kept running. I got back to my usual stop point with 17.97 miles, so I stretch it out to get it over 18.

I ended up with a little frostnight on my chest, so I probably need a to protect the core since my outer jacket was a bit warm. The rest of the outfit seemed to work, though, even if I was cold. I knew I was starting to have those problems in the last hour, but I also knew I was close to home and places to get warm. That’s probably not the right way to think.

Although I enjoyed the exploration, as much as anyone could in below freezing weather, I don’t think I’d want this as a running route. The path along the river is nice but I don’t want to have to stop for the intersections. I do want to run it north to south, and also go further south than Touhy. It looks like the path goes down to Lawerence, and even farther if I reconnect to some sections with a little road running.

Abu Dhabi’s Corniche

January 3, 2013 by Joseph Coureur| Leave a comment

January 3, 2013
Abu Dhabi, UAE
GPX

I came to Abu Dhabi to run on the Corniche, the pedestrian and bike path along the marina. My trip was really about Dubai for New Years, but when I looked for running routes, Abu Dhabi’s Corniche dominated the results. I made the trip just for the running route and the decent weather.

Travel Reviews, Tips & Ideas

Unlike Dubai, it was easy to get to the running path because there were plenty of pedestrian underpasses. Tonight’s run is going to be a J where I cover most ground twice. The Corniche will form the long arm of the J, after which I’ll run over the causeway toward the marine then turn again to go toward the Flagpole.

I went out about an hour before twilight so I’d have mostly cool temperatures with some time to see things in the light of day. I wanted to run the entire Corniche, including a trip to the UAE flagpole (the tallest in the world, another superlative for the UAE). In all, that would give me about 13 miles.

I only took a small bottle of water with me, thinking I’d pass plenty of water fountains. Wrong! There’s plenty of water, it’s just in vending machines. I had brought a Dh100 note with me, but that wasn’t going to help me. Most of my first six miles was just rationing my water.

I knew what the entire route looked like since I’d passed it all on my Big Bus Tour. The shared use path looks great and there are services along the way. In the middle, the Family Beach and the Single Men’s Beach have concessions. If I can make it that far, I can get more water. I need to maintain my hot weather pace for a bit.

The end of the Corniche is not too far away. Or, at least, I think it’s the end because the bike path has a turn around. A narrower footpath continues farther into the port when the water ends. As I come up on that part, a couple of jetskis are racing, although I couldn’t get a good picture of them.

The end of the marina

On the way back, I run by my first cat. They come out at night to get the food people leave behind for them. In all the middle eastern countries I’ve been in, I’ve never seen anyone molest a cat and I’ve seen plenty of people very friendly to the ferals and strays. The cats will come right up to you and play nice.

As the sun starts to go down, the path looks great. The bricks remind me of the waterfront paths in Portugal or Brasil, but these aren’t slick or slippery.

There are many other people out running, including women on their own wearing normal running kit. I was worried about dressing modestly, but it doesn’t seem to be a problem. I think there are more locals (opposed to resident aliens) out and about in Abu Dhabi than Dubai, too, but no one bothers me. I don’t even notices any weird looks.

The sunset is amazing (and I had already watched it once from the revolving restaurant in the Sky Tower restaurant, Tiara). I timed my run just right so I’m running toward the sun as it’s already disappearing behind the horizon. I get the great view without the glare.

When I get to the center of the Corniche, where most of the people are hanging out around the public beaches, I run by several groups of cats, most of whom are friendly. They are busy eating though, so they ignore me.

After that, it’s dark. The path is lit but not brightly, which is perfect. I can see what I’m doing without being in artificial daylight. A little further along I come to the end of this part of the Corniche and turn right over a causeway to the Marina Mall. If I’d gone straight across the intersection I’d be at the Emirates Palace Hotel and I could run toward the East Corniche a the opposite end of the island. It comes back from the Sheik Zayed Grand Mosque for several miles, much of it along mangrove swamps. About halfway to the city, though, the formal running path disappears. I did see some runners making their own path though. If I were going to be here longer, I would try that part too.

But, I turned to the right; the big landmark in front of me is the SkyTower. I had dinner there last night; great views, decent food, but awkward service that I run into all over the city.

This part of the run is a bit dangerous. It’s not as well lit and the rental bike riders are all over the path because they don’t expect anyone behind them to be faster. It’s short. When I get to the end of the causeway, but before the mall, I turn right again to go toward the Flagpole. That takes me past Heritage Village, which is shutdown now. I make it to the flagpole and touch it. I usually touch whatever the turn around point is so I don’t cheat a couple of steps.

I thought that would be the turn around, but there’s a little dog leg and a beach that looks across the marina to the city.

After taking some time to admire the city, I run back on the opposite side of the street. I use up the rest of my water, but I’m going to get some more at the restaurant on the causeway. At the intersection there’s a monument to Sheik Zayed, the founder of the UAE and it’s ruler until XXX.

There’s a french restaurant on the causeway, but I’m only interested in the little ice cream window they have. I really only want water, which is Dh2, but I feel bad about paying for that with a Dh100 note. I add a small chocolate ice cream cone. I’ve run 11 miles; I should be able to have an ice cream. I’m actually a bit farther along than I thought I’d be. That extra part near the flagpole has put me about 3/4 mile farther along.

After that, I’m retracing ground to get back to my hotel. I forgot exactly where I came out and I don’t want to run all the way to the first pedestrian underpass I used. I want to cut the corner, and since I’ve already run 12 miles and I think I still have 2 to go by the shortest route, that’s what I want to do.

I take the next underpass and run perpendicular to the Corniche until I hit XXX road. From there I just keep going until I show up at my hotel.

This was a great run that I’d like to do again (next time with a camelback or some coins).

2013 Running Goals

January 1, 2013 by Joseph Coureur| Comments Off

I might be a bit too ambitious for the new year.

✔ Run the Arizona Rock ‘n’ Roll to get the Desert Double Down bonus
Registered Run the Edinburgh Half Marathon to get the World Tour bonus bling.
Registered Run the Paris Marathon the week before Edinburgh. (April 7 and 14), if I can figure out how to stay that long.
✔ Finish off the second go-around on my Seven Continents (February) with the White Continent Marathon
✖ CANCELLED! The Madagascar Marathon, for my third African marathon (June)
The Rio de Janeiro marathon, and one other in another country while I’m down there. (July), if I can get some frequent flyer tickets.
✖ Conflicts with Bagan Enter the lottery for New York. I was rejected last year. (Nov)
Run marathons in the States I’ve never visited (Montana, North Dakota, Nebraska, Oklahoma, and Idaho). I might be able to get three of those out of the way in the Center of the Nation series.
Find a marathon in Iowa, Indiana, and Kentucky to complete the states around Illinois.
Registered for both The Istanbul Marathon might take the place of New York, and be my third Asian marathon (Nov), and maybe the new Bagan Temple Marathon on the same trip.
The Polar Circle Marathon (Oct), as practice for a North Pole Marathon.

Dubai: Mall of the Emirates, Burj al Arab, and Jumeirah Beach

January 1, 2013 by Joseph Coureur| 1 Comment

January 1, 2013
Dubai, UAE
Mall loop GPX
Jumeirah GPX

My first run of the year is in Dubai (although by Garmin time, still in Chicago), it shows up in 2012. I didn’t get up early to beat the 10 hour time difference; I just went to bed early. I really did want to stay up to see the fireworks off the Burj Khalifa, the tallest building of the world. Since I missed midnight by falling asleep at 10pm, I also woke up early ready for a run.

Dubai, the big city in the United Arab Emirates, isn’t set up for walking, but that makes sense for a region where oppressive heat takes over for most of the year. January is the cool period and it’s in the 70s during the day.

Travel Reviews, Tips & Ideas

I stayed in a cheap hotel next to the Mall of the Emirates, which I’m told is the most popular mall here. Everything here has a world superlative. It’s the most number of visitors, most land area, most leasable space, or most mosts. People come here to spend lots of money and to be seen spending money. But, most of the area is for the resident alien workers, so a block away from the shiny parts are the still clean and bright but very inexpensive parts.

I took the Big Bus Tour, as I usually do, to get a lay of the land on my first day in town (peering down from the observation deck of the Burj Khalifa helps). I wanted to find some interesting running routes. I saw plenty of people running (most in usual running kit although DC Rainmaker spotted a woman running in an abaya and hijab). I didn’t see any routes that looked appealing. The creek area is a busy port and there was a lot of construction going on for na upcoming expo. Other areas were essentially high traffic city streets, which I detest. I want to run far away from cars.

Sheik Zayed Road slices Dubai lengthwise, keeping the two sides of the city apart unless you drive and are willing to navigate the right number of on and off ramps. Every trip seems to start with a struggle to get on the highway. There are no pedestrian overpasses, but the two sides aren’t really meant to mix either. I’m staying on the side away from the beach. I really want to run to the Burj al Arab, the seven star hotel, but that’s the other side of 16 lanes of traffic.

The Mall of the Emirates Metro stop was close to my hotel and there’s a pond right next to it. I looked to be about a mile around, so I ran around it to find out just how far it was. I wasn’t that close; it was 3/4 miles around.

Running around that, though, the Burj al Arab looks really close. It’s not a very tall building compared to the others in the city, but I think it has to be closer than three miles. I wanted to run a moderate distance today and running more laps around the pond wasn’t appealing. As I’m thinking about that, I realize that the Metro stops can be pedestrian overpasses since they have entrances on both sides of the highway.

I changed plans. I go back to the hotel to grab some money and a bottle of water so I could run that far without dying, and, if I think I’m going to die, catch a taxi back. I take a quick look at Google Earth to pick up some street names.

Instead of going back to the Mall of the Emirates stop, where I had just been running, I go to the Sharaf DG stop, which is actually closer to the hotel but farther away from the places I’ve visited. I get over there to realize I can’t cross the highway there. The turnstiles are at ground level and the elevated walkways only go up to, but not over, the tracks.

I start running toward the Mall of the Emirates stop; I know I can get across there. I pick up the bike path near the hotel and run back toward the pond loop.

I walk across the overpass, which takes longer than I expect. It’s a very wide highway. I’m a bit chilly from the air conditioning. The mall workers are showing up for work so the stop is busy on this side of the highway.

The other side, which is deserted, lets out onto a path along the Umm Suqeim Road (D63). I note that I’m having trouble spelling the anglacized versions of these names because i comes after e in many of these names—Umm Suqeim, Sheik Zayed, Jumeirah Beach. No matter how it’s spelled, with is a nice road with a decent path.

I have to cross the Police Academy parking lot, but other than that I run continuously until I connect with Jumeirah Road (D94) that runs along the beach. It’s here that I get as close as I ever will and as anyone will probably let me to the Burj al Arab. There’s a small vehicle entrance where they are checking all cars. You don’t have to be staying there, in which case you’ll need a restaurant reservation. I don’t think a dripping-sweat runner is going to sneak by the guards.

I keep running along Jumeirah Road, past the Jumeirah Hotel which is designed to look like a wave and has camel holiday decorations. Even though this is a Muslim country, Christmas decorations are all over. I see plenty of Santa Clauses and reindeer, and even navitity scenes without the religious bits (so, sheep and camels staring at a candle).

Past the hotel I turn toward the Jumeirah Open Beach and my first chance to put my feet in the Arabian Gulf (don’t use the other name here). The water is warm and clear. This is a great swimming beach, but I’m not here to swim. I run along the beach to a giant hill of sand on the other side.

From here I’m at about three miles. That’s not bad, but it’s time to go back. I retrace my steps until I get to the front on the Burj al Arab, where I want to cross the street. I’ll run on the other side on the way back. I usually prefer to not run on the same ground twice when I’m out exploring.

Traffic along Umm Suqeim is starting to pick up so I duck into the residential area. At the crosswalk there’s a sign pointing back to the Metro, 2,450m away.

There are no sidewalks through these small streets, but there’s also no traffic. After a half a mile I wonder if I’ve made a mistake since it looks like there’s a construction area between me and the Metro stop. Indeed there is, but there’s also a parking area with outlets to Umm Suqeim so I cut across that. Another K and I’m back to the Metro.

I finish somewhere around 6.5 miles, not counting the mile loop I did earlier. It’s a bit shorter than I would have liked to run, but I’m anxious to move on to Abu Dhabi.

That’s a good run, although looking at the satellite image makes it look liked I missed the more interesting feature a bit farther south: the Palm. I saw it on the bus tour and it doesn’t look good for running. I did see people running there, but I bet they are out of a very short distance from their hotels on the Palm. It looks nice from the sky, but it’s like standing in the lobby of a tall building; you can’t see any of the grandeur when you are in the middle of it.

2012 Las Vegas Rock ‘n’ Roll

December 2, 2012 by Joseph Coureur| 1 Comment

December 2, 2012
Las Vegas, NV
GPX
Event website

What happens in Vegas stays in Vegas, or at least it should, but my story isn’t going to compromise anyone and is only embarrassing to me. I thought that this might be my first “Did not finish” event and that colored everything from the start to end, making it a miserable experience.

The Rock ‘n’ Roll Las Vegas “Strip at Night” is unique among the Competitor events because it starts at the godly hour of 3 pm, which in December is about an hour and a half before sunset. This is the second year they’ve run the event at night, and I think that makes it worth it. I can’t imagine running Las Vegas during the day. Vegas doesn’t even seem like it exists if it’s light out.

I signed up for this race for several reasons. I wanted a back up race for the Heavy Medal series in case I had a problem with another event. I needed 10 finishes to get the Rock Idol and this was my back-up eleventh event. The Vegas event combined with the Arizona race next month gets me the Desert Double Down medal, the only medal that combines events from different calendar years.

A special bib for the Rock Idols

And, the chance to run the Vegas Strip at night is very attractive, not only to me but the 44,000 other people who showed up last year for it’s first run at night (and third ever run) making it the second largest running event in the US, right behind the New York Marathon. This year there’s 30,000 people, mostly in the half marathon which runs just the interesting bits instead of stretching out into North Las Vegas to run on the boring roads.

Lastly, I need a Nevada event for my 50 Stater goal. If I finish this one, I’d have 12 states checked off, which is enough to join the club as a provisional member. I don’t really want the bragging rights so much as an excuse to visit each state.

Those things only count if I finish. I ran the Solar Eclipse Marathon two weeks ago and that really did a number of me and my feet since I’m not used to trail marathons. The extreme hills and the uneven terrain really wore out muscles that I normally ignore in the flat and paved training that I do in Chicago.

More worrisome than that was the bug that I picked up flying back from Australia. I’ve been dealing with a low-grade chest cold that won’t really assert itself but won’t go away either. My throat has that tickle that can send me into a coughing fit, which only gets worse with the dry winter air. As such, I haven’t run in two weeks, having done the calculus between not running and getting better but losing some training effects, or running and making it worse. I chose to not run and get better, but that also threw me off my routine and I haven’t eaten well for the past two weeks. I think I made the right decision, but neither was going to make me ready to run a marathon; they were only a choice over which would hurt less.

As with all races, I put these things out of my mind. I show up at the start line ready to run, but without thinking about everything that’s against me. It’s always something. I don’t think I’ve run a race yet where I showed up completely prepared, injury free, and well rested. If I’ve done it 24 times, I can do it again. It might suck hard, but that’s how it goes. I’ll run one mile, then I’ll run another, and I’ll keep doing that until I’m done. If I can’t run a mile, I’ll run to the next tree and worry about the other trees when I get there. The trick isn’t to panic. When I can’t contemplate the whole, I focus on the next part.

There’s another twist though. They’re closing down the Vegas Strip at night for this, disrupting traffic and mass transit on the most popular street in the city. As such, they imposed a “strict” 4.5 hour time limit on the marathon. That allows them to re-open major roads sooner and get Vegas back to being Vegas.

That’s about the time that I do on a good day, and this isn’t a good day. I wouldn’t be worried about finishing with no time limit despite being sick, but I’m really worried about being swept up by the broom wagon on this one. I don’t know how much this cold is going to affect me, but I’m expecting higher heart rates and more labored breathing. My stamina has to be down too. I don’t know how much because I haven’t run in two weeks.

That time limit was stated weirdly though. It’s not really a finishing time limit or a gun time limit. When the last marathoner and the official race rear caravan cross the start line, the 4:30 timer starts. That caravan will drive at a 4:30 pace.

I started to do the math. There are several corrals, each starting one or two minutes apart. The last corral is the one with the 4:30 limit. The one in front of it has an effective 4:32 limit, and so on. Taking any advantage I could, I’d sneak up a couple of corrals. I might buy myself five extra minutes.

I also looked at the course map. I gambled that the broom wagon wasn’t really going to be sweeping people of the course near the end. Once we got off the major roads in North Las Vegas, there would be little incentive or benefit to stopping people. I had no reason to believe this other than looking at the half marathon course, which would be open much later than the marathon time limit.

The half started at 4:30, an hour and half later than the marathon, and it had a 4 hour time limit. That would put the first corral at the finish line at 8:30 if they used the whole time. The 4.5 hour time limit on the marathon would put the first corral at the finish line at 7:30 (although the winner would likely be there before 5:30). The half follows the same rules as the marathon, but there are about 36 corrals. Taking off at two minute intervals means the broom wagon crosses the start line at about 70 minutes after the half gun, so the finish line will be open past 9:30, six and a half hours after I start.

The trick then is not to run a marathon but to run whatever distance I need to get to so I’m safe from the broom wagon. I figure that’s at most where the full and the half come together at Mile 23. After that, I could walk the rest of the way if I was doing poorly. I also figured the broom wagon would stop before then. Around Mile 20 we’re off Martin Luther King Drive, a major road, and into the side streets parallel to the Strip. If I could get that far, I probably would be safe.

So, there is was. I was really running 20 miles to stay ahead of the end of the race. Make it that far and I could stop worrying about the DNF. Still, I didn’t know if I’d make it past the first miles.

The start was a little south of Mandalay Bay on Las Vegas Blvd, next to the airport. As usual, I was a bit antsy before the gun because there’s only anticipation, which I have a hard time controlling even when I feel good. When the gun goes off and I’m running, all that goes away. It’s like a cold pool. I hate thinking about jumping in, but once in, I’m fine.

The gun goes off, the wheelchair athletes are gone, then the elites, and the next corral and so on until I was going. I was feeling okay.

Within the first mile, the official photographers were pulling people off the course to take pictures in front of the iconic “Welcome to Las Vegas” sign, although I was already past it when I realized what was happening. I normally don’t buy the pictures, but I might have paid $20 for that picture.

Las Vegas Sign by Twiggy_34, on Flickr

We went south about a mile before we made a U-turn to go back north. running past the more famous resorts and finish area near Mile 6, continuing into the northern, old-school parts of the Strip (and past the Pawn Stars shop!).

After warming up on the first few miles, I was running well and a lot faster than I wanted. I was with the 4:00 pacer, but not because I wanted to be. My legs wanted to go that fast and my chest wasn’t complaining. My heart rate was a little high, but that’s normal in the first miles. It helped that it was a gentle downhill with a very strong tailwind.

I took a quick break after Mile 6 for a porta-potty, salt pill, and a gel, right on schedule. Although I tend to delay these breaks to get a bit extra mileage in before I give myself the treat, today I was going to be extra good about my plan. My endurance needed all the discipline and help I could give it.

The bit after the water stop was spooky. It was twilight, with the sun fully down but it was still light out. There was a strong tailwind directly behind us and it was blowing the uncrushed wax cups along with us, and even faster than the race pace. Those skittering cups were the soundtrack of the race for about a half mile, gradually decreasing as they were caught in bushes or stepped on.

Miles 8 through 10 were the most interesting parts of the race. Although the Strip was nice, I liked the Fremont neighborhood much better. It’s the old, Rat Pack 60s Vegas seedy glamour rather than the over-produced spectacle of the modern Vegas. It’s $20 hotel rooms, all nude “cabarets”, and the Stardust.

By then the sun was fully down and it was dark, which is just as well because most of the rest of the run was desolate and dull. My pace was slowing down, but I was doing much better than the 10:18 I needed to stay ahead of the time limit. My average pace was slipping a couple of seconds a mile, which was fine because I had my heart rate where I wanted it. Everything went fine up to Mile 14, where I took another short break for a salt pill and gel.

Since the course was doubling back on itself for most of Miles 10 to 21, I could see the runners behind me. At Mile 14 I could see runners just getting to Mile 13, and there was no sweeper in sight. At Mile 16 I started a run-walk, which I didn’t really want to do, but my hips were burning up with lactic acid. I was on a gentle hill, but I think it was mostly poor recovery from two weeks ago that was getting me. Around the turn-around to double back again I could still see a lot of runners behind me. By Mile 17, I was seing the end of the field come up on Mile 15, but no caravan in sight. I think that was when the 4:10 pacer passed me. There were 20 minutes of race behind me, which was plenty of cushion to get me to Mile 20. I was starting to feel safe.

I got to Mile 20 after some long walk breaks and felt good enough to run for a mile and a half, but by then I was really feeling my cold. My throat was really sore and I was taking water to wet my throat and mouth.

When I thought I could take another break, we entered the Fremont Street Experience, a semi-outdoor mall covered with a huge, arching LED light show called VivaVision. Having been in dark and quiet streets made that display all that more spectacular, but we also get to see the first spectators in miles. I couldn’t walk then!

Fremont Street Experience by Terry Hassan, on Flickr

Overhead Screen Fremont Street by Caitlyn Willows, on Flickr

Around Mile 22 we touched the half marathon course briefly before we split off again to go through some seedy Vegas neighborhoods (I was glad for all the police blocking the intersections even though there was no traffic). I know they have to stretch out the course to make the distance, and I realized that most of Vegas is not the shiny, rich parts we see in the very small section that tourists use; I’d still rather not run through the bad parts at night.

But then, I was safe from elimination, I figured. I was about the join the half marathon course and the time limit wouldn’t matter anymore. I took a long walk break; I’d already missed any sort of decent time and that I only cared about finishing now.

There’s a problem running (or walking drunk, I suppose) back down the Strip at night. It’s slightly uphill and tonight there was a strong headwind. Worst of all, it’s hard to judge distances; the scale of everything is out of whack so things that seem close are really far away. I kept looking at the sign for the Mirage and it’s Love sign, where the finish line was, and it never seemed to get any closer even though everything in front of it was.

As with most marathons, I questioned my sanity and thought that I should never do another marathon. I wasn’t feeling sorry for myself so much as wondering why I needed to subject myself to so much pain for a sport I’m obviously not suited for.

The Mirage, Las Vegas by regs79, on Flickr

About a half mile from the finish, my watch said 4:55. I thought I might be able to break 5:00, but I was already wrecked. Still, I gave it a go, but crossed 5 hours right about the 26 mile marker. I walked the rest save for the last 25 meters. I was physically beat and mentally disappointed. Sure, I finished and did so despite being sick, but that doesn’t mean I have to like my result.

But, it’s never over at the finish line. These huge events can have a finisher chute that stretches for another mile, after which I still had to navigate the Strip with all of its open-container holding tourists and live-nude-girl pamphleteers to get back to my hotel. Some Competitor events have shuttles back to the start, but not this one.

By the time I’d showered, changed, and put my feet up, it was 10:30. I wanted some steak frites, my usual after-race treat, but the places I’d been recommended had already closed early on Sunday. Instead I ended up at In-n-Out Burgers, another favorite post-race treat, with many other runners.

So, there it is. I’ve finished a Nevada marathon, done half of the Desert Double Down, and finished off another year. I’m still standing, even if it hurts, and that has to count for something. And, the last marathon of the year is the last marathon for my current shoes, which I left in Vegas.

Running the Globe

2013 White Continent Marathon

2013 Punta Arenas Marathon

New York’s Central Park

Desert Double Down Medal

2013 Arizona Rock ‘n’ Roll

Epic North Channel Run

Abu Dhabi’s Corniche

2013 Running Goals

Dubai: Mall of the Emirates, Burj al Arab, and Jumeirah Beach

2012 Las Vegas Rock ‘n’ Roll

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