It's easy when you're fresh . . .

. . . and running downhill.

Today I ran the inaugural Las Vegas Marathon--and by "ran" I mean ran some and walked some. Ok, I walked a lot, but that's ok.  My goal was simply to finish, crossing the finish line before the cutoff.  Races that shut down the strip, like the Rock'n'Roll marathon, back when that was offered in the series, tend to have shorter time limits.  I recall 5 hours, the one time I ran it (in 2013).  This new course today had a longer window--and a better opportunity for me to finish--at 6.5 hours.

First, prep.  When I was brainstorming a list of items I would need for the race, I went a little overboard.  I was certain that I would need my cane toward the end, and the one cane soon morphed into a pair of trekking poles.  An emergency blanket (included in the race package distributed with the bib and shirt) and warm clothes.  The usual food and medication.  Maybe some water and Gatorade, but not much since the race is supported with aid stations, unlike a solo practice run.  My iPhone and Apple watch, phone carried in an arm sleeve.  My main hydration backpack is a  CamelBak with a large reservoir, and a lot of storage space inside.  But I didn't  want to wear it.  I wanted people to be able to read the back of my shirt.  I don't have a good fanny pack, and my runner's belt was not quite right, especially without bottles in the bottle pockets.  In the end, I decided against nearly all of it.  No cane, no trekking poles, no camelbak, no runner's belt (with or without bottles), no fanny pack, no ear buds.  I did have to have a way to carry my medications, plus a small amount of food.  The only option was pockets, so that is what I went with.  Pills in the right pocket and food in the left.  Sunscreen applied ahead of time.  Keys left  with the valet--sadly, not a free valet.  No gloves, but I did wear my boonie hat to minimize sunburn on my face. No sunglasses, because I forgot to keep them with me when I gave the car and keys to the valet.  All told, I think the effort to travel light paid off, except in one way--the cold.

The race did not start on Mt Charleston, which would have been very cold, but in Red Rock Canyon, which was only somewhat cold.  I figured I would be fine in my long-sleeve T-shirt; after starting I would soon be warm.  So I declined to wear extra layers (I once started a Spartan racee wearing 5 shirts, removing all but two as the day warmed up).  I also decided to leave behind the gloves and emergency blanket that were distributed by the race organizers.  So I drove to a casino near where we would board the bus and left  my car with the valet.  The bus stop was a very short walk, so I got there early and had nothing to do for a half hour or so, except sit there and be cold.  I did walk back to the casino for a short time, but that pre-bus cold was nothing.  The bus arrived at the starting area along the loop in Red Rock Canyon at 4:15.  Race  start was sheduled for 6 am.  That left me with an hour and 45 minutes with nothing to do, in a roughly 50 degree dark night.  That is not a bad temperature when one is moving, but we were not moving.  More than that, the wind was quite strong, whipping emergency blankets around and making them far less useful.  The cold quickly combined with my tremor to leave me shivering, and even shaking quite violently from time to time.  There seemed to be two schools of thought among the assembled runners--either sit still or move around.  I was in the latter group. I paced quite a bit in an effort to stay warm, and I even did 50 push ups in a vain attempt to make myself immune to the cold.  I figured an hour-long hardcore workout might do the trick, but it would also wear me out and deplete my body's energy stores.

When we finally got the "go" signal at 6am, I was in the port-a-pottie.  When I returned to the windy parking lot at maybe 6:02, I saw that the line of  runners waiting to start still stretched all the way across the pavement, so I got in line and slowly moved toward the starting line.  The run itself was easy, in the beginning.  It was nearly all downhill, and though my pace was faster than I thought wise, I decided it would be more effort to force myself to slow down, so I went with it.  The first four miles went really well.  I started walking intermittently in mile 5.  The mid-point of the race was marked, and as I passed the sign, I glanced at  my tracker.  Surprisingly, it showed 2 hours and 42 minutes--faster than my last few half marathons, and only 10 minutes behind my personal record of 2:32.  I think that in my next half, I will beat 2:30 and set a new PR.  We'll see in February, God willing.

Finishing before the cutoff requires an average pace of 15:00 minutes per mile (average over the entire course).  Throughout the first half, my running was mostly at a 10:30 to 11:00 pace, if I recall correctly. My walking was closer to 12:30 to 13:00, well under the limit. However, in the second half, it gradually became difficult to run at all, let alone fast.  It also became difficult to keep my walking pace faster than 14:00, eventually even 15;00.  I knew I had left myself a large margin, but I also saw that I was using it  up.

I checked my pace frequently and bumped it up when necessary to get it down, preferably in the 13:3- range.  As fatigure wore me down, I began to  settle for14:00, then 14:30, and then anything under 15:00.  Eventually I was close enough to the finish to have complete confidence that I would make it. That was a relief.  People cheered us on at various points along the route, but the last quarter mile or so  was exponentially more of the same.  This crowd energy picked up my spirit sufficiently to run a little as I approached the finish line.

Final thoughts--shoes and music.  I had been toying with the idea of buying new running shoes, but I procrastinated and suddenly found that it was the day before the race.  I thought that the biggest threat to a finish was the pain in my left heel, so I went and got a new pair with some awesome cushion (plus an insert, plus a pair of plantar fasciitis socks--essentially compression socks).  I knew it would be risky to wear a new pair of shoes for the first time in a marathon, but I took my chances.  Other than wearing them home from the store yesterday, I wore them for the first time today. It turned out to be a good choice--not even the hint of a blister, and very little heel pain during the run.  For music, I must confess that I played my music without ear buds.  I don't like wearing them (even just one) whille running because doing so negatively impacts my awareness.  I left it off for most of the day, but the final third of the course, from about mile 18 to the end, was extra tough, as anyone could have predicted. So I started listening with the volume low. Held close to my ear, the volume was fine for me, and the songs in that playlist became a kind of instant inspiration flowing directly into my brain, via the ear canal.  Killer tunes FTW!

I once described how a half marathon feels as "a blur of fatigue and pain".  Well, the full marathon is the same, for me at least.  But it sure did feel good to get that full 26.2 medal.  I'm off to find a place to hang it.