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On Saturday Aug 22, I completed the Run With The Horses Marathon in Green River, Wyoming. This was my 12th marathon,
and it just happened to be my first one on a Saturday, for whatever reason. What stands out, of course, is that I
was supposed to run this race with Joe. Already this year, we had run marathons together from start to finish in New Orleans and Deadwood, SD. We had also run at least partially together in Cincinnati '07, Philly '07, and St Louis '09. We had even both run in Chicago in '05, although that was just a coincidence since we didn't know each other yet. Joe
was the only friend of mine who was also attempting to run a marathon in each of the 50 states. And thus, he was the only
person I was scheduled to meet up with in Wyoming. His tragic death last month meant that I would be spending three days out
west alone. I had contacted the race director to ask whether I could run with his bib as well as my own, and she said okay.
So that's what I did. I flew into Salt Lake City late Friday morning, and rented a car for the drive to Green River,
WY. It was just about a three hour drive, and the drive was uneventful. When I arrived at the site to pick up my race packet
and gave them my name, the race director immediately knew that I was the guy who was going to be running for his friend. I
guess it's easy to remember details like that when there are only about 140 people registered to run the race. Yes, this was
going to be the smallest marathon I'd ever taken part in.
It also looked to be the most difficult. Until now, the Deadwood marathon was the hardest, based on the hills. This marathon
had slightly more elevation gain, was at a somewhat higher altitude overall, and it was a much warmer day. Someone told me
before the race that the predicted high for the day was 95, which would be the hottest day in Green River since 1971! I don't
think it actually got that hot, so I think the old record was safe. And it wasn't nearly that hot at the start of the race.
But still, the heat could be a factor. Until now, my slowest marathon had been my debut in Chicago: 4:27. I knew this
was going to be a slow one, and I really didn't set any time goal. I decided that I would try to be faster than I was in Chciago,
and I set my prediction at 4:20. That would still make it my second-slowest marathon.
Anyway, the race began at a town park at 6:30 Saturday morning. It was maybe 55 or 60 degrees at the start, and the sun
was just about to come up. The first two miles of the race were run on city streets, except for one brief portion where the
whole crowd of runners had to run over a pedestrain walkway that went over the railway yard. This was only a couple hundred
yards into the race, so the runners were all still bunched together. And you could feel the bridge move a little under all
the footsteps. That was just slightly unnerving. I covered the first two miles in 9:04 and 9:15, which I considered to be
a nice easy pace.
Just before Mile 2, we started to climb the mountain, and the paved road turned into a dirt road. And then the fun really
began. Miles 3 and 4 were extremely steep! So much so that I even had to slow to a walk at one point to catch my breath. In the fourth mile of the race! Okay, this
was a bad sign. I never had to slow to a walk with 22 miles to go! I covered these two miles in 10:35 and 12:37. (!) Around
Mile 4.5, the hill flattened out a bit, but it still climbed ever so gradually. We had already gone from about 6100 feet of
altitude at the start to around 7200 feet. Over the next few miles, we slowly climbed to about 7600. My pace wasn't too much
faster here, averaging over 10:00 per mile. I reached the turn-around point of the Half Marathon (i.e. the quarter-mark of
my race) in 1:08. Yeesh, that's slow.
The steepest part of the uphill course was behind, and the hills now were gently rolling. Still, I felt as though there
was more uphill than down, all the way into the turnaround point at Mile 13.1. From here, it was a simply U-turn, and a return
along the exact same path that we had come. So this means that I have already seen everything that this race had to offer.
And, well, it wasn't much. Once the course left town, there was nothing out there. Well, there was a lot of beautiful,
wide open scenery. But there was no civilization to speak of. And there weren't any spectators either, save the occasional
car that we shared the dirt road with. In fact, there was one guy in a Mustang who was driving along and stopping every few
hundred yards to take pictures of his wife, who was running the race right behind me. He'd take a picture as she ran by him,
and then get back in the car and drive ahead again. And that meant he'd drive past me. Again and again. He was ruining my
serenity and it started to get a little annoying. Finally I guess I pulled far enough ahead of his wife that I didn't see
him any more. Thank goodness.
Well, this race is called the Run With The Horses Marathon, because the dirt road we ran on is the Wild Horse Loop, where
there are supposed to be wild horses frolicking about. One page on the race website says there are horses on the side of the road "9 times out of 10". Well, this was that one time. The only herd of wild horses
I saw was right around Mile 13, way off in the distance. The horses must have been almost a mile away. Oh well, no
running with the horses this year.
I covered the second quarter of the race in 1:04, for a halfway time of 2:12. I'd have to make sure I don't bonk in the
second half if I want to prevent this from being my slowest marathon.
Anyway, since the course seemed to be almost entirely uphill for the first 13.1 miles, I was happy to believe that it was
almost entirely downhill for the last 13.1. Maybe it was the heat or the thin air, but I swear the next five miles were mostly
uphill also. I commented on this to the volunteers at the aid stations (who were basically the only spectators). In fact,
I think I cursed a couple of the volunteers out for their sadistic course. I hope they didn't take it personally.
Of course the sun had been steadily rising in the sky and the temperature had been rising. Since this is the high plains
desert, at least it was dry. Had it been humid, I never would have been able to continue. As it was, I was still moving, albeit
somewhat slowly. I made it to the 3/4 point in 3:18, which meant I was still going at a consistent, slow pace.
Finally, around Mile 19 is when I began to notice a downhill trend. But by this point, I was drained. My paces were erratic,
as I had to throw in some walk breaks. (Miles 19-22 were 10:30, 11:33, 9:11, 10:04). Then after Mile 22, we hit the steep
descent. This is the hill that I had to walk up all the way back at Mile 4. Well, this time it was down. I was toast here,
so I just let my momentum carry me down. I ran Mile 23 in 8:35, and followed that up with a 8:22 in Mile 24. These were my
only miles under 9:00 all race, and they occured when I was feeling fried. I basically just fell downhill for two miles. Thank
goodness there were no really sharp turns in these two miles or I might have gone running straight off a cliff.
After Mile 24, we were back into town. I was spent, and had to take a couple more walk breaks before getting to the finish.
I managed to save a little energy for a run across the finish line, and I came in with a final time of 4:20:53.
So that was right at my prediction. It also means I grabbed the elusive negative split, even though that was entirely thanks
to the huge hill that killed my time on the way up and spared it on the way down. But hey, I'll take it. This was definitely the hardest marathon
I have done. So I am happy with the accomplishment.
Since the landscape was fairly desolate during most of the race -- I commented to another runner at one point that I felt
like I was running a marathon on the surface of Mars -- I had a lot of time to think. And I spent a lot of time thinking about
Joe. I think he would have appreciated this race. It was a challenge, and I know he thrived on challenges.
So, my thoughts on the Run With The Horses Marathon? It's sadistic, but I enjoyed it. As I said before, there's no crowd support
whatsoever, and the scenery was beautiful, yet monotonous. So frankly, I'm not exactly sure why I enjoyed it as much as I
did. I doubt I'll ever come back to the town of Green River again, but I can at least take some sense of accomplishment away
from my one trip there.
My flight back home wasn't until Monday morning, so I had all day Sunday to wander around. I checked out of my hotel and drove
down to Flaming Gorge National Recreation Area, which looks like a mini-Grand Canyon. Not too mini though, because there were
opportunities for some impressive photgraphs. The views were amazing, and I wish I were a better photographer, because there
were some great shots to be had.
I eventually made it to Salt Lake City, where I had a hotel for the night. I even felt good enough to take a short, slow
jog around downtown, where I took a couple pictures of the Mormon temple and the Utah state capitol. The next morning, I was
on a plane on my way back to New Jersey.
The Run With The Horses Marathon was extremely hard. But it was a satisfying run as well. The New York City Marathon
in November is next up for me, and that should be a piece of cake after this one...
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