Plummeting at Pocatello.

            With some lamenting over not running the Tupelo “Trample the Weak and Hurdle the Dead” Marathon I ventured out this weekend to explore more of Idaho.  With a phenomenal race put on by the folks at Couer d’Alene, Idaho I surmised that Pocatello should be just as entertaining.  Race directors within the same state usually vie for runners with tenacity that is akin to competitors in a UFC fight.  

I left Ohio early Friday morning and arrived in Salt Lake City around 11 am.  This allowed ample time to visit the Great Salt Lake.  Something I have not done since the early days of my youth.  Maybe it was my attempt to regain some salinity of my own (see the Bible for reference).  The concentration of salt at one part of the lake was nearing 25%.  I remembered childhood vacations of my family hovering perfectly still amidst the fluid mass of brine and salt mixed with a little life sustaining liquid.  As a person who is body fat challenged I have found it difficult to float in pool water without frenetic movement of my distal extremities.  I surveyed the visitor center and mapped out a conduit to the higher octane region of the lake.  My trusty Bite sandals were chomping for some action and this would be another great test for their durability.  I was without proper swimming attire and so I felt that since I am in the heart of a running streak and my chosen place of floating was void of any other passer by, I opted for some real streaking of my own.  So armed with sandals and stark naked I plunged into the vast lake for some relaxation.  The brine might have been a little incensed but the temperature and serene setting allowed for some of the most relaxing time I have had during this tumultuous year. Thirty-six marathons (so far), moving 1000 miles, losing your best friend and two job changes might qualify as tumultuous.  I thought about throwing in a few ultras, a few more moving experiences, and an ironman event or two just to mix it up next year.  Other than those thoughts, I spent my brief time floating in quiet stillness.

On the trip home I drove by the lake for one more look and thought it odd how floating seemed to pervade the whole weekend.   

The race started just over 6100 feet.  You all should know how my lungs dislike altitude.  And because you know this fun little fact most of my competition knows it as well.  This set up a very interesting race.   Jeff Shadley from Idaho Falls (4300 feet up) showed up and decided he would push me for the first 14 miles as we descended off the precipice of the mountains near Pocatello. I wanted to float during the first downhill portion and conserve my quads for the last half of the race.  At the conclusion of the race he stated that he knew I wasn’t trained for altitude and he wanted to put as much distance on me while my lungs were proving inefficient at grabbing oxygen.  I coughed up about 1:15 in the first 3 miles thanks to his fast pace and my first of 5 full bladder stops.  Insert jocular comment about eyes floating here.  I think the low pressure that high up must wreak havoc on my bladder.  Now you really know why I dislike altitude.

We dropped from 6100 feet to just below the 4400 mark by mile 14.   Yes, it was almost a free fall.  The first mile had a drop of almost 250 feet.  Thus, the leading mile time of 5:32 didn’t seem that astonishing.  As the course meandered back to the basin I abandoned my race plan of floating down what appeared to be Everest to this flatlander.  I worked to regain a share of the lead.  I passed up second place around mile 7 and chatted briefly as I plunged onward toward the leader.  By mile 10 we were bumping shoulders.  Jeff would throw in a surge and I would quickly match his pace.  Fortunately at mile 14 I was roughly 40 seconds ahead.  I had thrown in two sub 5:40 miles in an attempt to break my worthy competitors spirit. The floating was over and the racing had begun. His assaults through the first 10 miles, in combination with the shear face drop off of the race had hammered my quads into ground-chuck. (you may not get that on the first try)  The one thing 35 marathons have done for me is build my confidence in finishing races.  I sniffed the slightest gap and pressed just a little more on the slowly leveling surface.  By mile 20 the gap had widened to almost 2 minutes.   I continued to careen toward the finish but at mile 24 both IT bands had locked me into a crawl and the downhill pounding chewed my shins into swollen and bruised stumps.  The last mile crept by at nearly 7 minutes and 30 seconds.  The last several hundred yards took 2 minutes.   I managed to creep across the finish line in one of the more beautiful Pocatello parks.  The time (2:42) was good enough for first place by just over 4 minutes.  I was completely taken aback by the continual downhill for 14 miles. I was elated with the outcome even though I was forced to give up my hopeful floating stratagem.

While I did manage to successfully plummet down the course to my 20^th win of the year it took someone else to force me to quit floating in this race.  Much like my pastor stated last weekend we need to quit floating and get in the race. I don’t think he was specifically talking about running but it encouraged me none the less.  Most people are passive and act as observers.  So many of us sit idly by and never truly participate.  For example I finished and watched a woman who stood idly by at the finish line praising her son for his 100^th marathon finish.  Spectators cheered as a man in a wheelchair came across the finish line.  I had a friend call me and repeatedly brag about how the Buckeyes had just scored again.  Now I don’t live day to day with the woman, the spectators or my Buckeye fan friend, so they may participate in something other than running.   For me I would rather run the race ( or my 100^th which will be hear shortly) or play in the game than float through the race of life as an observer.  Sure fans are great…but in running you can cheer and still participate.  

There are calories to burn, places to run (or ski, kayak, mountain bike), people to meet, challenge and encourage.  Stop floating and start running.

See you in Erie next weekend.  MJ