The Lead-up:
To be honest, I never wanted to run this marathon.
I've been familiar with this race for many years and always thought that, while Revel itself is a fantastic company and hosts remarkably well-organized events, this course was far from ideal: All the bad rap for being downhill, while actually chewing runners up and spitting them out with the high altitude and extreme downhill early on, only to climb later when it counts -- except now without functioning legs. I've watched from afar and seen so, so many dreams die at this race in the past! I do think that these races can be very fast, but only with very specific downhill and eccentric prep work, which I obviously didn't do. Otherwise, I'd strongly prefer a flat-ish, sea level course. :)
That said, when you need a BQ at the beginning of September, your options are rather limited. Filter it down for races that fit in a "I need to be home that afternoon," and ta da! I was now running the Big Cottonwood Marathon 2022.
Not only did I not really want to run THIS race, though, I didn't want to run ANY marathon right now. I was just tired and we're just trying to get settled over here, and I had the big scheduling conflicts with my kids' activities. But what I *DO* want is to run a fast Boston Marathon in 2023 and, well, that's kind of hard to do if you're not there. Sometimes people assume that other runners are just super motivated all the time, but let me be the first to say that I am very much not. What I am, though, is disciplined enough to understand that you just have to trudge through some of the low-motivation times to get to the ultimate goal. So I ran just enough miles and did just enough long runs to make this thing work.
The Second Race:
I was super nervous going into Big Cottonwood. Partially because there was a lot on the line, partially because I knew I didn't have the specific prep needed for this type of course, but mostly because I knew that this marathon had to go well or I didn't stand a chance at winning my second race of the day: Getting back to Colorado in time for Summer's gymnastics meet.
Unlike the baseball/soccer/basketball/football schedules that we're used to, with tons and tons of games on the schedule, gymnastics only has 6-8 meets a year. That's it. So each one holds more weight anyway, but since we just got to a new state and new gym and this move in general has been hard for Summer, everything is a bigger deal right now. So I left the decision up to Summer: Would she be okay if I had to miss just one meet? "Well, I want you to get to go to Boston," she said. Me too.
I didn't tell her in case it didn't work, but I picked this race weekend instead of the others because her meet wasn't until the afternoon, which meant I'd have a chance to still get there... if I ran fast enough and every little thing went right. I booked a late-morning flight that would give me that chance, and then a back-up late-night flight in case it didn't work. And the nervous butterflies set in -- gosh, I wanted so badly to make all of this work, but knew it would be a really big ask from my body.
The Marathon:
My brother Christian lives a mere 15 minutes from the Big Cottonwood finish line, which made for a really easy morning logistically! We woke up, got dressed, ate, and headed out the door. I weaned the twins last month (making it to a year with them is seriously one of my biggest accomplishments!), which meant I finally didn't have to worry about pumping pre-race! Seriously, what a game changer haha -- the morning was SO much less stressful without it. Anyway, so we made it to the parking lot very uneventfully and headed over to the busses, where I conveniently ran into my friend Claire, who I'd been planning on riding up with. Perfect! Christian was running the half so we said our goodbyes and Claire and I were off.
It was a beautiful morning pre-race routine went well, until it was almost time to start and we decided a second potty break was needed. No big deal since it's chip timed and everything, but in my head I knew that also meant I was losing a few minutes on the "getting to the airport" race on the backend. I still stand by that second potty break, though! My pre-race meal the night before was with friends and something I'd never eaten pre-race before, and my tummy kept me up all night so I was anxious about it. Nothing a little imodium can't fix though right? Ha.
Postpartum running for me has been wildly unpredictable, in that some days feel great, others feel awful, and most feel generally "meh" -- and there is not necessarily rhyme or reason so I never know what I'm going to get. Obviously I hoped for a "great" feeling day for the marathon, but also had stress hives earlier in the week from everything else we're dealing with sooo you know. I'd settle for a "good" feeling day, too.
Mile 1: Well, I started running and it was definitely more of a "meh"-feeling day, so I was going to really have to work for it. Since we started a few minutes late, I had some crowd-weaving to do early on. The first mile is a literal drop off of Guardsman Pass -- we're talking 450 feet in one mile, meaning your quads are shot before the race really even begins. Then you hit miles three and four, where there is a few hundred feet of climbing at 9K feet elevation, which is fun. I kept my foot off the gas and tried to keep my effort nice and easy -- no need to burn matches at this stage in the game.
Mile 5: I walked for a few seconds at the aid station to properly wash down the gel I'd just taken. My legs instantly felt wobbly. Why, yes, at only 5 miles into the race, my legs were already trashed. Alarm bells went off in my brain. I reminded myself about my last long run, in which I'd felt like total crap for the first many miles, but actually started feeling a little better around mile 10 or so. "You're fine," I told myself. "It'll start to feel better."
Mile 10ish: Either my lies worked or I was on to something — I started to feel a little stronger overall. I finally found myself around a good group of guys twice, but dropped my sunglasses the first time and had to go back. Then a gust of wind randomly made my brother's hat that I was borrowing fly off the second time, so I lost them again when I went back for the hat. Finally, right before coming out of the canyon, I fell in step with a slightly-older gentleman who I hoped to hang with for a bit on Wasatch. Always mentally easier when we're not alone.
Mile 18: “Here we go!” I said to my new friend as of 0.25 miles before. 
Time for the uphill! I was grateful I’d finished my last few long runs uphill — “Wasatch isn’t nearly as bad as Woodman,” I thought.
Mile 19: Wow, that mile went surprisingly well! I’ve got this.
Mile 19.25: Hamstrings start screaming. To quote my twins: “Uh oh!” This is what I was afraid of — my quads were so shredded that my hammies were doing waaay more work than they were prepared for. Where is the dang turnaround? (I knew where.) Why are we still going up? (I knew why. ) I saw the 21 mile marker on the other side… Just over 1.5 miles and I’d be at that marker for real. Hang in there.
Mile 20.5: The turnaround! I literally cheered. None of the men around me seemed to share my same enthusiasm, though, haha. My hamstrings were starting to really seize up and I told myself to just make it to the next aid station so I could pull over to get some icy hot and stretch them out.
Mile 20.75: A Rhandi sighting! My friend Rhandi was pacing the second half and came up behind me with all the best energy. It was a very well-timed distraction but I only hung with her for about a minute before dying.
Mile almost-22: Hallelujah, there’s the aid station. It was also sunny and exposed with temps in the 70s and climbing, so I tossed a bit of water on myself after drinking electrolytes. My stride had gotten super locked up over the last mile and I needed to do some serious problem-solving: I walked over to the volunteers with icy hot and they slapped a bunch on the back of my legs for me to rub in. As I did so, I realized too late that I probably should have left some portion of my hands icy-hot free for the sake of fueling but alas. (Fast forward a few minutes to me fighting with a RunGum package and tasting nothing but icy hot… mmmm!)
At this point, we were past alarm bells and the sprinklers were on in the ceilings, you know? Ha. So I had to be smart and figure out how to get to the finish line in the shortest amount of time with my quads shredded and my subsequently over-worked hamstrings cramping. It was pretty painful, as far as these things are concerned anyway, and my stride just got smaller & more locked up the more I tried to run through it.
I worried about how much worse it could get and decided the fastest way there would actually be to manage things with a run/walk plan from here. (Not giving up/slow walking it in, but actually employing purposeful run/walk intervals as part of a smart strategy. There is a difference!) I’d take a 30ish second walk/stretch break every half mile to try to control the cramping and reset my stride. Mentally, this was a good way to handle the pain, too — knowing it was just a half mile and then there’d be some relief. On paper, this method would “cost” me about 30-45 seconds a mile vs. running steady (depending on the stretching), but I figured it’d actually *save* me at least that much by keeping my stride functional and staving off even worse cramping. I passed so many people who were running steady on the final stretch!
Saying that makes it sound easy, but it was really tough to keep pushing through to the end, especially when my on-the-go math said I could actually do a lot of “give up” style walking and still hit a BQ at that point. (Which, when I caught myself doing the “How slow can I go and still make it” math, I snapped my brain back into shape: “No, how fast can I still get there?” Win your own mental battles!)
Oh, I wanted so badly to phone it in these final miles. But even more than that, I wanted to make it on that early flight so I could be in Colorado in a few hours for Summer’s meet. I just kept telling myself I had to stay in it — I had to make it for Sums.
That’s the best kind of motivation right there.
Finally, I saw the finish line in the distance. And as I got closer, I saw an even better sight: My brother and friends, hands up, screaming, ready to welcome me in with open arms!
I felt such a feeling of relief as I stepped over that finish line. I’d done it!!!
A 3:21 was perfect. My first BQ back in 2015 -- after my first two kids -- was a 3:21, so it feels somewhat symbolic as I start over after my second two.
Aaaand now, my legs were done. They locked up and my friends helped me over to a chair. I looked at my watch and figured I could give myself about ten minutes of recovery before my drop-dead departure time. I drank some chocolate milk as I rested for a couple minutes, then got another round of hugs, took a few pictures, and it was time to go!
Race # 2 was officially on. Click here for that recap. :)
The Stats:
13 months postpartum with twins
Chip time: 3:21:24
Watch stats: 26.32 miles @ 7:39 pace
Placing: 3rd in F35-39 (Which I think says something about how deceptively tough this course is, for a 3:21 to be 3rd in the biggest AG at a race of this size.) (Online results show 4th AG, but turns out the 3rd result was a pacer bib that switched runners halfway through, so that was a fun surprise!)
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