Yesterday was Pioneer day in Utah. July 24th is a big deal around here, the entire state shuts down. Seriously, shuts down. Nothing is open. You’d think it was New Years Day or something, well except very few people are hung over. I’m assuming the 24th is the day when the Mormon Pioneers settled Utah, though I’m not exactly sure. You see us non-LDS folk call it, Pieandbeer Day, and we get to celebrate a day off work for something that means nothing to us. It’s awesome. I get paid to spend the day with family and friends, eating pie and drinking beer! Best. Holiday.Ever.
I’m pretty sure no other state in the country, has a state holiday like this one. The G Rated party starts a good week before the actual day with festivals, concerts and a rodeo. Then ends with a huge parade that people sleep out all night for, ala the Rose Parade without all the flowers, and a gigantic fireworks show ends the day, that rivals the 4th of July. In fact it’s a pretty safe bet that the fireworks show is bigger than the 4th of July. Celebrating the state is apparently more important than celebrating our entire country. Go figure.
So I started Pieandbeer day off by getting up at 3:30am to go run a half marathon. It’s true. I spent my day off, getting up earlier than normal, and running 13.1 miles. I have no excuse. On the bus at 4:30am and up Emigration Canyon we go. The butterflies are starting to take hold. Why I still get nervous is beyond me. It’s not like I’m going to win the stupid race, it makes no sense. Maybe the habits of an old athlete are hard to break. Despite knowing I can’t win, the competitive side of me is still raring to go and the adrenaline just takes over. Whatever. It was dark when we got to the top, the wind was blowing and it was raining. Awesome. I have a white tank top on, and no jacket or garbage bag to keep the rain off. Brilliant. I didn’t need to worry, once we were off the bus, the rain basically stopped and the wind died down. I headed to wait in line at the Honey Buckets, and realized there’s something really nice about walking into a port-o-potty in pitch black, where you can’t see what’s lurking below.
It’s time to line up, the countdown begins, anxiety is in the air, the gun fires and we’re off. Me and 900 of my closest friends start making our way down the canyon. I vowed to myself I wouldn’t get caught up in the frenzied pace and just try and take it easy, run my “race”, whatever that means. I’ve run a few races now, and I still don’t know how to run one. I would like to think I’m getting better, I’m just not sure that’s true. Down we go, I know this canyon like the back of my hand (that’s such an odd expression. Does anyone really know what the back of their hand looks like? Could you pick it out of a lineup?) I run up it, down it and ride my bike through it. I knew what was coming, what curve or hill was ahead, what mileage we were at and when I could expect a water station. It was great, I was feeling awesome. 7 Miles through the canyon and my pace was under 10 minutes per mile, I was killing it. I had visions of grandeur, of catching my speedy wife on her 10k run, of maybe placing in the top 10 of my division, hell, the top 5, and blasting my PR sky high! Oh hell yes, I’m a runner! After three years of semi training, I’ve finally conquered this whole running thing…
Or not.
Miles 8-10 were fine, a bit slower, my pace dropped a bit but I was at 10:03 per mile, and felt I could turn the afterburners on around mile 11, and make that up, no problem. Boy was I ever wrong. The clouds from earlier dissipated, the sun came out, it was hot as Hades and the wheels were coming off. I was struggling and I knew it. Mentally and physically I was in trouble. Serious trouble. I was dying of thirst, my fuel light was on and I was running on fumes.
Rewind to 4 hours earlier “Looks like there are quite a few water stations on the course, I should be fine. I don’t think I’ll take my fuel belt” Worst. Decision. Ever!
I took a couple glasses of water at the 2nd to last water station, one to drink and one to pour over my head. I had taken a Gu about 5 minutes before, so I was thinking I should be fine until the finish line. I should’ve taken another water. The two glasses made zero dent in my fuel tank. Hindsight is always 20/20 isn’t it? I started focusing on what lie ahead. The parade crowd will help renew my energy level. In my head I imagine thousands of people screaming and cheering as we make our way down the route, pushing each runner to finish. I’ll use my parade wave to say hello to my adoring fans…Only that didn’t happen. Sure there were people lined up on both sides of the road, but they weren’t interested in us. They were eating donuts, drinking coffee, or hot chocolate as the case may be, playing games, setting out their blankets and umbrellas. Doing everything but what I needed. I had no fans. There wasn’t any energy level, no chants of Rudy…Rudy… were happening. I was alone on a street of hundreds, dying a slow and painful death and no one knew it but me.
There was no way I was going to finish this race strong, if I finished at all. Skateboards were rolling by and it took everything I had not to shout to them to give me a ride. I had thoughts of knocking the three year old out of her wagon, pushing the clown off his unicycle, taking the umbrella push cart, something, anything other than wogging, to get me out of this hell I was in.
Good hell where is the last water station, and why isn’t there anyone on the parade route drinking water? Are you kidding me? Not one person I could ask for a bottle of water. What is the matter with these people? Finally I see the water station. Hallefrickenlullah! I grab two Poweraides and two waters and I down all of the them. Come on engines kickstart already. Put-put-put…die, try again, put-put-put…die. Put-put-put…varoom…YES!!!……die. *&^%$ .
I round the last corner and I can see the finish line. It’s easily 30 football fields away. Are you kidding me? That is NOT ½ mile, you liars. Deep breath. Ok, ok I can do this…I start shuffling my feet, only the finish line is moving away from me. I’m not getting any closer. Fine you bastard, I’ll just walk. &^%%$#. I can’t even power walk, I’m out for a Sunday stroll kind of walk. AAAAAHHHHHHH My frustration level hits an all time high.
No! I will not walk across the finish line, I will run dammit. Screw you brain, I will do this. I put Eminem on, put my head down and run, if you can call it that. It wasn’t pretty. It’s wasn’t a PR, but I finished, and I realize once again, I don’t know shit about running. Awesome.
Tomorrow is a new day.
Today, I’m going for PieandBeer.
stacy&maryann 