This past week, I was at Club Med Ixtapa Pacifico for a conference. While we were kept very busy for much of the time, I did manage to get in a few runs on the beautiful beach.

On Monday, I set out around 1pm for a barefoot run. While I don’t wear my Newtons often, I was interested to see how they have apparently helped to alter my stride: my heel barely touched down as I coasted down the beach. Unfortunately, my feet are still used to shoes of some sort, and within a mile my middle toes each felt a blister building up on them. I made it about 1.5 miles before I called it a day and traded in my running clothes for a swimsuit.

The next day my calves felt “blocked” as they sometimes do. I wasn’t willing to give up on enjoying the beach, however, so I kept my shoes and ran on the beach just beyond where the tide came in. There is a hurricane threatening the country, and the tide came in much higher than it had the day before. The running was never easy, as in some cases my shoes sunk into the deep sand. This time I lasted two miles before the heat and the effort got to me. I knew my calves would be sore from running on the unforgiving sand, so I took off my shoes and waded into the water. I turned to face the resort and let the waves hit me, ideally at calf-height. I hoped the mini-massage would help, but today my legs still feel tight.

I’m sorry I didn’t get a chance to go for any longer runs: I heard of other delegates who chose to hit the road instead of the sand and saw an alligator en route! But I so rarely get to visit the beach that I wanted to take full advantage!

I have a draft blog post all queued up, but in the meantime, here are some photos from my first bout with the Green Barrettes. Obviously, I’m in the green

Blocking Primal Rage - Photo: Bill Ross Photography

Blocked by Fonda Payne. Photo: Daniel Kane

Blocking Fonda Payne. Photo: Daniel Kane

This race report is a long time in coming: I completed the Boston marathon 5 months ago, and have run 3 marathons since then! But I felt guilty not having a race report to refer to, so here goes.

I generally enjoy writing race reports: why was this different? Boston was different this year: and not just because I was coming from Denver but many of my friends were from Columbus. I saw the gang only a few months prior when I ran the Last Chance for Boston race.

For the first time in Boston, I stayed with Helen at a hotel close to the finish. Helen and I have always been great marathon traveling buddies: I arrived, and saw she’d already stocked the room with water, gatorade and bananas. I just added the marathon toaster to the mix, and we were set! I went and met a former coworker to watch roller derby and we went out for dinner; but when I arrived back in the room, Helen and I visited for awhile before heading off to bed.

The next morning, her dad was running the 5K race. For the first time ever, they charged for this race. It was an unwelcome change: in the past, the free Freedom run was a great way to stretch your legs and get into the spirit of the event. We watched her dad, and then headed to the expo. I tried out and purchased some Newton shoes, and way more other stuff I had no idea I needed!

Due to the size of our dinner party, our dinner reservation had been set very early: something like 4pm. Helen, her dad and I arrived a few minutes early: to discover there WAS no reservation! Thankfully, the restaurant owner was very accommodating and made room for us.

The group was so large that there wasn’t much chance to visit. In fact, we sat Helen, Meredith, Dave and I at one end of the table; quite a few folks we didn’t know in the middle, and then our other friends all the way at the other side. There was some disagreement as to what time to catch the buses in the morning: last year, we were quite rushed, so some of us decided we wanted to leave earlier. As soon as dinner was over, folks dispersed. It was a bit disappointing. We headed to Mike’s pastries, and then headed back to the hotel. Helen and I dialed up a movie and relaxed and prepped for the race.

We arranged to meet the next morning, and found some of the gang had decided not to take the bus, and were driving up. So much for the discussion the evening before. While it shouldn’t bother me, it was a bit of an annoyance: we had all “gone along with the flow” in the past, for the sake of the group. This year just did not have the same sense of comradery as years past.

Then there was the run. It was ok, but I think the novelty of Boston has worn off. Also, I hadn’t been training very hard for this race: I was just there to finish. In fact, I had roller derby test-ups (to be eligible to bout) a few days after the marathon, and that was occupying my thoughts as well.

M1: 8:17
M2: 8:05
M3: 8:03
M4: 8:04
M5: 8:15
M6: 8:11
M7: 8:07
M8: 8:16
M9: 8:13
M10: 8:22
M11: 8:39
M12: 8:29
M13: 8:18
M14: 8:39
M15: 8:48
M16: 8:21
M17: 9:10
M18: 8:59
M19: 9:09
M20: 9:14
M21: 9:32
M22: 8:53
M23: 9:10
M24: 9:20
M25: 8:52
M26: 8:59
.2: 7:44pace
—
3:47:51

I ran. Looking back 4 months later, I can’t speak to anything noteworthy: I guess that’s why it’s important to do these promptly, right?

We finished the race, and everyone met up in our standard spot. Meredith had set a new PR (at Boston? Amazing), and Helen and I finished within a few seconds of each other. We all decided to meet up at the pizza place we found the year before for dinner later. At dinner, Helen and I were already looking at the next challenge: the Pikes Peak marathon in August! Sitting with the same folks I had for several years, I felt a bit estranged: sometimes you do things because they’re tradition, but at what point does tradition lose its meaning? When I left Boston, I wondered if I would bother returning in 2010.

That being said, on my flight home there was a small group of African runners. Right before we boarded, some folks started taking pictures of them. It turns out the winner of the men’s race and the second place female were on my plane! The male winner was carrying his trophy, and put it in the overhead bin. Later, I was trying to fit my carry-on above, and realized I was slamming it against the trophy! At least it didn’t break.

So that was my Boston experience. While I enjoyed my time with Helen running another marathon: it is almost simply that, “another marathon”. Now as registration for Boston starts up, we’ll see if I feel differently. But as it stands right now, I feel that I may want new experiences, new races.

I didn’t plan to run a marathon this September, it just happened.

Indeed, through June and July, I thought I was over this running stuff. Yes, the excitement of Pikes Peak got my interest in running sparked up again, but I logged a mere 60 miles in August, including the marathon!

But when my old friend Chuck “MarathonJunkie” Engle emailed me on a Thursday to say he was running a marathon in Colorado on a Monday, I didn’t even hesitate. (I suppose I owe him one: I bailed on running the Estes Park Marathon with him back in June).

Chuck flew into town Sunday afternoon for a Labor Day Marathon in Colorado Springs. We stopped for a pita at Garbanzo’s Mediterranean Grill, and then headed south. Despite the beautiful weather Sunday morning, it actually got quite chilly and rained a bit on the drive. We arrived at the host hotel, and were barely even in the door when we met up with some of Chuck’s many running friends. I suppose when you’re closing in on 200 marathons and you run every weekend, you get to know some folks!

Those are marathon maniacs: Andrea Hill (#194), Chuck Engle (#250)
Nancy Goodnight (#1437), Jeff Venable (#364), Linda Venable and Matt Manning.

Jeff and Linda had picked up everyone’s race packets, and we headed to Giuseppes for dinner. We were sat way at the back practically in a room by ourselves, which was fine because we ended up being a boisterous group! Matt was recovering: he’d run a marathon in Idaho on Saturday, New Mexico on Sunday and was preparing for his third marathon in as many days.

I had a blast hanging out with a gang of fellow runners, and Jeff told me I was officially “part of the gang” and tried to convince me to meet up with everyone in Omaha in a few weeks.

Soon enough it was time to head to bed, because the last shuttle bus was leaving at 5:30am. Unfortunately, I didn’t sleep well, and morning came too early. The marathon toaster had made the trip, so I had my traditional breakfast of toast, PB and banana. I decided to try out my new Lululemon Run:Ultra shorts, which were form-fitting but still had extra pockets for gels and keys. I packed up three gels, some e-caps and a few of the caffeinated espresso beans we’d received in our race kit. I also wore a tank top and trail-running shoes. The fellow runners I’d met all had light(er) racing flats on, but I was operating on the assumption that this was a trail race.

We headed out on the long bus ride to the start, and the sun came up just as we got off the bus. I used the portapotty once, and then it was time to get started!

Because I hadn’t planned on running the race, I really had no goals. I told myself I’d be happy with 3:42, 3 hours faster than my last marathon, but I wasn’t really holding myself to it.

M1: 8:19
M2: 8:02
M3: 8:18
M4: 8:17
M5: 8:19

I started out pretty comfortably; not particularly paying attention to pace. Despite the overall elevation drop of the course, there were actually a lot of rolling hills through the race. I just chugged along, marveling at the pretty course (which some runners dismissed as “boring”). But imagine my surprise when at mile 5 I was engulfed by the 3:45 pace group (which is definitely NOT the pace I was going! I was at a sub 3:40 pace). I stuck with them for awhile, and then around mile 6, a relay exchange point, our pace leader disappeared! I kept running with a couple folks: a local woman running her first marathon and looking to BQ, and an older gentleman who’d raced in Breckenridge the day before. We kept each other company for a few miles.

M6: 8:24
M7: 8:19
M8: 8:27
M9: 8:28
M10: 8:40
M11: 8:27
M12: 8:26
M13: 8:33

At mile 13, my running companion said those words I think we all utter during our first marathon: she looked at her watch and saw she was “ahead”. No one realizes that being ahead in the first half of your first marathon is NOT a good thing. Soon enough, I pulled ahead and we never crossed paths again.

M14: 9:13
M15: 8:39
M16: 9:32

One of my favorite times of a marathon: 10 miles to go! Although my pace was apparently slowing significantly, I was feeling okay. There was actually a weird twinge in my left leg, but it had shown up a few days earlier while biking, and then disappeared again. I just kept pushing, although it was definitely starting to get warmer. With each water stop (only every few miles), I grabbed gatorade to drink and water to sip and splash on myself.

M17: 9:36
M18: 9:45
M19: 9:25
M20: 9:16

Although this race had been billed as a trail marathon, about the last 8 miles were on bike path or concrete. While the harder surfaces are faster, they’re no good on legs that got used to soft path.

M21: 10:26
M22: 9:25
M23: 10:06
M24: 13:33

With about three miles to go, the course came off the shaded path for good, and I stopped and took a LONG walk through the water stop. A volunteer asked if I was all right. I responded unenthusiastically that I thought so. She asked if I needed something. I asked if she had any pain relieving gel, as my leg was feeling sore. She didn’t so I kept plodding along. I’ll admit that I honestly considered just stopping for 10 or 15 minutes, but then I figured I may as well just get it done.

M25: 11:59
M26: 9:46
.2: 7:38 pace

The last few miles were on concrete right below the highway. As I passed below the bridges, I noted the street names, and knew I was getting close. In the last half mile we had a brutal climb up to street level, crossed over a bridge, and then we were entering America the Beautiful park! Spectators were cheering, music was blaring, and kids were playing in a gorgeous fountain as the course wound around the park. My smile was wide as I circled, motioning for people to cheer because “I’d just finished a marathon!” I crossed the line in 4:02:35; under-4 would have been nice but I didn’t feel any regret because I hadn’t explicitly set myself such a goal.

I grabbed some gatorade and tried to find some shade. It was definitely warm: a time-and-temperature sign nearby showed 85F. I checked the results eagerly, hoping my friend Chuck had won (as had been his goal). Unfortunately, the altitude proved to be an unexpected challenge. I relaxed and stretched a little on the grass, and for some reason was overcome with emotion. It was a gorgeous day: people were playing sports and enjoying the day. I don’t know why I feel as though I need to run a marathon to ‘treat myself’ to such frivolities. I stopped by the food tent, but the idea of pizza made my stomach turn a little. I splashed my legs in the water for a bit, and then slowly made my way back to the hotel. I got cleaned up (the joy of a 6:30 marathon and a hotel close to the finish: I was able to freshen up before check-out).

Chuck and I got lunch, and then he asked if we could head over to Pikes Peak. He ran the race in 2008, but he had never simply visited it. We drove up the highway, and he was absolutely in awe. He declared that he simply HAS to move here: we’ll see if that comes to fruition. But all of the crazy marathoners I met from sea level said they struggled with the altitude. While I didn’t run a great race, I didn’t run a bad one, and perhaps my being accustomed to the altitude DID make a difference. After some donuts at the top of the Peak and another meal in town, we headed back to Denver. Once again I was oddly proud to hear a fellow runner in awe of the state I live in. And sure enough, the marathon maniac bug has bitten: that evening we were checking out other races to try! (The Boulder Backroads marathon is Sept 20th.. hmmm).

I’m writing this report on Friday, 4 days after the marathon. Although I was quite sore the two days post-race (my quads were aching like they haven’t in years!), I did an easy 2 miles today and I think I’ll be back running in no time. And even enjoying it!

Three days ago, Chuck “Marathonjunkie” Engle emailed me to say he was coming into town this weekend to run the American Distance Trail marathon just outside Colorado Springs. I didn’t have any big plans for the long weekend, so I didn’t even hesitate, and signed up.

One of the volunteers at Pikes Peak had told me about this race, a steady downhill primarily on dirt road:

I’m excited; I had decided to take Minneapolis off the race calendar for a number of reasons, and waiting til California to run my favorite distance again just seemed so long!

Race report to come..

When I was in college, I used to rollerblade errands. I’d throw shoes in a backpack and head off to whereever I needed to go. When I started running, most of my trips to the local ATM were incorporated into a run.

I have a compulsion to be always productive, so rollerblading for the sake of rollerblading rarely happened. But if there were an errand to be run, I gladly took the opportunity to do strap on my skates. (wow, it feels odd to consider rollerblades skates).

Fast forward.. several years. Due to a mishap with my work visa, I don’t have a valid license. If errands are to be run, I can either do them self-propelled, or find someone to take me. The excuse I’ve been waiting for!

The one problem with literally running (or biking, or skating) errands is the time it takes. I’ve had enough trouble dedicating myself to long runs because of the amoung of time it ate up, and two-footing it to the store definitely takes longer than driving. Yet because I’m being productive, I don’t see it as a choice “to run or to do something else”. It’s just a different way to achieve the task on to the to-do list.

ok, wait. I rarely delve into my random deep linguistic thoughts on here, but I can’t help it. In English, we say “he rolled across the street”, where “rolled” describes the action and the direction. In French, they say “il a traverse la route, en roulant”. Well, something along those lines… as I said, college has been awhile. Anyway – in French, they say “he crossed the street, rolling.” They don’t mush together the behavior and the descriptor. Right now I’m thinking of the difference between running errands, and running errands running. Ok, done.

The other week during the Pikes Peak marathon, I decided that I wanted to get a small backpack for running that I could have used for my gear. Now that I am carrying work clothes and a lunch every day on my bike, a decent backpack seems more important than ever. Guess what errand I’m running today? Home -> REI.

There was a slight… mishap with my work visa this week that lead me to be without a valid driver’s license at the moment. Thankfully, my apartment is close to work, so it didn’t take too much to decide that I’ll be using two-wheeled transportation for awhile!

Yesterday was my first day, and I managed to miss the one tricky turn on the route. Still, I didn’t get too off-track, and made it into work in what I felt was a reasonable 33 minutes (distance: 6.43 miles). Another coworker actually had her bike as well, so we rode to grab lunch together. As September draws nearer, it was great to have an excuse to be outside enjoying the gorgeous weather. We also stopped by a Farmer’s market after work before I headed home.

Today I figured out the correct turn, and the route came out at 5.95 miles. It’s definitely uphill on the way to work, but that just makes it easier to leave the office at the end of the day:

To work:
5.95 miles in 27:18. Avg speed was 13.1mph, max speed was 23.1mph. 318 ft descent, 567 ft ascent

From work:
5.97 miles in 21:25. Avg speed was 16.7mph, max speed was 28.8mph. 489 ft descent, 234 ft ascent.

So all in all in the past two days I’ve biked more than I have all summer! Surprisingly the knee seems ok with this added activity, which is great. I actually like fresh air on the way home, a way to clear my head.

By race founder Rudy Fahl:

There’s no thrill in easy sailing
When the skies are clear and blue;
No joy in merely doing things
Which most anyone can do.

But, there is some satisfaction
Which is mighty sweet to take;
When you reach the top of Pikes Peak
That you thought you could not make.

The Pikes Peak Marathon holds the marketing tag “America’s Ultimate Challenge” -it is truly a race unlike any I’d done before. In order to prepare for it, I spent several Sunday mornings driving over an hour to Manitou Springs to meet up with the Incline Club and train on the mountain. In June, there was still snow at the top!

As I’ve said before, I’ve really struggled with motivation lately. I ran the Steamboat Springs marathon at the beginning of June, but hadn’t run more than 13 miles at a time after that. I was a little nervous heading into this extreme event.

Thankfully, I had my friend Helen coming as well. Helen is a strong, confident runner (or as she admits, “a little crazy”). She loves a running challenge, and she was excited for the event. This helped me too – her enthusiasm is contagious. Which, of course, is evident when you consider that we’ve done races together in Ohio, Massachusetts, Indiana, Illinois, Pennsylvania and now Colorado. Before we’d set foot on the course, Helen was already talking about wanting to double next year (the Ascent on Saturday, the marathon on Sunday).

The day before the race we took the Cog Railway up the mountain, to give Helen an idea of where we’d be going. It was chilly at the top: 39F with a windchill of 29F. We arrived at the top around 1pm and saw some of the Ascent finishers.

As we headed back down, I think Helen started to really realize what we were getting into. She started to express some nervousness, but I was fairly confident she’d be ok. Helen runs with her guts as much as her legs, and in the end, you can just hike this thing to get it done with. But again: we were doing this race because it was a challenge, so it was an eager excitement. We debated over and over what to wear: an email we’d received from the RD suggested packing a hat, jacket, pants, etc. I wasn’t sure how I was going to carry these things and change into them! I think I got to worrying more about “stuff” than the actual activity!

We attended the race pasta party and went to a small ceremony the night before. Arlene Pieper, the first female marathoner, was in attendance with her daughter. Another fellow who ran the 1959 race was there, and he told some great stories about the race, and showed off the shoes he’d worn that day. Wow! It was another emotional, exciting event and helped us to feel we were part of something special.

The next morning we rose early, as we wanted to be sure we could park at the start. We had no problems finding a spot right next to the park, and actually sat in the car for awhile. I’d gone with capris and a t-shirt, gloves, with a jacket tied around my waist. Helen went with shorts, gloves, a long-sleeved shirt and a jacket tied around her waist. I also had gu, mini luna bars, trail mix and some e-caps tucked into various pockets, and carried Gatorade. There were a few aid stations on the way, but it had been suggested people carry water. I was also worried about getting hungry!

Courtesy John Noltensmeyer: http://www.flickr.com/photos/johnnynotes/

Then we were off! Helen pulled away from me pretty quickly, as she often does. The first mile of the race is on the road and leads uphill, and I knew there was no need to rush. I caught up with her in about mile 2, when almost everyone had resorted to walking. I explained “I’m not running that stuff!” I definitely had the advantage to know part of the course.

I’d run basically the first and last half of the race a handful of times: up to Barr Camp and back. So in my mind, I divided the course into three: up to Barr Camp, Barr Camp to the top, and from the top down. This really helped break it up.

I actually got warm pretty quickly, and stripped down to my sports bra. I knew we had a long day ahead of us and I didn’t want to get overheated. The first part of the course was familiar to me, so I just kept trucking along. I passed people, they passed me. I ran where I could and walked otherwise, knowing that there would come a time in the race where running was not an option.

Past Barr Camp I got to territory I’d only seen once before, so I didn’t have the advantage of knowing exactly what was coming up. I got caught up in a big traffic jam of people walking, so I tagged along with them for awhile. It was a bit of a relief (not to be trying to push myself, but still feeling like I wasn’t falling behind), but also a bit frustrating. Eventually I managed to pass them and pick up the pace. Another woman broke free as well ahead of me. She was taking pictures, and stopped to read a small plaque on the side of the trail. I asked her if it was her first time: it was. I exclaimed that she was doing great, and we started running together for awhile.

Before I hit the A-Frame, I think about 2:35 into my race, I heard the call: “Runner up!”. Longtime champion Matt Carpenter was on his way down. A few minutes later another runner followed behind. Ok, so those guys were running the whole way!

I actually was surprised at how the miles kept ticking by, even these harder miles above treeline. I put on my jacket as there was a bit of a wind, and just kept moving. Soon we were having to negotiate the trail with other runners headed back down, which meant pulling over and letting them pass. Things got a bit congested, but I guess that’s just motivation to run faster next year, right??

I actually thought I might make it to the top in less than 4 hours (the estimate of taking your road marathon time and adding a half hour), but I made the turn-around at 4:11. As I headed back down, I was eager to see Helen, to see how she was doing. I had passed the A-Frame at 2:48, and the cut-off time was 3:30. I wanted to know that she’d made it.

It was a mere 7 min later (and in this marathon, that’s like a quarter mile) that I saw her. The night before, Charlene Aldridge had told a story about her “Peak Buddy” who had run with her the year before. When Helen saw me, she yelled out “Andrea – I love you! You’re my peak buddy!” To which I replied “No I’m not – I left you”. All the folks around us laughed. Other than her giddiness, Helen didn’t seem to suffer at all from any effects of the altitude (this was at 14,110 ft).

So then I was in the third part of the race. I think every race should end with you getting more oxygen, and gravity helping you towards the finish! The biggest challenge for the downhill was watching your footing. Again, the congestion at the upper few miles meant we couldn’t go too quickly anyway. I stumbled a couple times, and people around me offered advice: “don’t step on rocks – be like a mountain goat”. I didn’t particularly want their advice, and I have no idea what “be like a mountain goat” means anyway! I just kept going at the pace and approach I was comfortable with.

My jacket was a real pain: it was a lightweight shell and even tied around my waist it kept slipping and hanging low. I had my phone (I thought I’d take pictures – ha!), gloves and food in my jacket pocket and they kept swinging out and hitting me. Twice I had to stop and retie or empty my shoe of rocks. It’s actually interesting that I never stopped on the way up, only down. Perhaps that was more mental than anything else?

I headed down the trail, not overly aggressive, just letting the trail pull me back. I only took a half a GU the whole race, preferring instead the grapes, skittles and jelly bellies offered at rest stops.

I hit mile 16 at 5 hours exactly, and realized I had to do 5 miles an hour to meet my 7 hour goal. A 12 minute mile at this point in the race was completely doable, so I felt pretty comfortable with that. I did think briefly about “the wall” and the fact I hadn’t run this far in a long time, but I felt fine. I was hydrating well, I wasn’t hungry and my legs didn’t feel bad at all!

I was also in familiar territory again: I knew from Barr Camp down (which was actually when there was 7 miles to go), I could run to the bottom in about an hour on a good day. I think I had a real advantage over others on the course, as I caught up with and passed a lot of runners in the last 5 miles. Most of the guys I encountered were good about pulling over and letting me through, but there was one girl who did NOT want me to pass her! I was on her heels for probably a mile before I did some quick footwork on a switchback and got ahead of her.

The last mile was on the road, and we had some spectator support. They announced everyone coming in, which was nice, and then you made a turn on Manitou Ave and you were done! I was happy to finish up in 6:42:15, well below my 7 hr goal. I grabbed some water and gatorade, and picked up my finisher’s jacket. I changed into flipflops, got some grapes and waited for Helen. As I went to watch for her, a couple ladies also watching the race asked if I’d run. One had done the Ascent the day before, and both were watching for their husbands to finish. They had plenty of questions, as they were considering the marathon the next year. We chatted away, and soon I heard the announcement “From Dublin Ohio – Helen Dunbar!” I tried to take a photo, but Helen tore by me to quickly. She wasn’t smiling as she passed, so I wasn’t sure how she felt. I headed back to the finisher’s area, where she was already chatting with someone. I walked over and she announced “We’re doubling next year!!”. I was SO happy her experience was great, and I paraded her back to the women I’d been standing with. Helen kept saying this was her favorite run ever (despite the fact that she fell around mile 16). It was a gorgeous, beautiful day, and we’d run an incredible race.

This isn’t to say it’s easy, though: we both ran well and felt fine, but not all are as fortunate. As John Noltensmeyer shared on twitter: you should see the medical tent for this race – looks like a war zone.

Courtesy John Noltensmeyer: http://www.flickr.com/photos/johnnynotes/

By the time we finished, it was after 2pm, so we had lunch before heading back to Denver. We got home, showered, and then got pizza and watched a movie. We probably were quite a site at Blockbuster, as we were both wearing shorts and Recovery socks. But yesterday we were both fine, no limping or soreness at all!

What an amazing experience, and of course it helped shake me out of my “I’m sick of running” mentality. Everyone keeps asking what’s next, and I have to admit I’m not quite sure. Will I double next year? Sure.. I’d do it. With a race like this, there are so many checkpoints and mini-goals: how fast to Barr Camp. How fast to the top. How far without walking. I can definitely see how it would get under your skin. I certainly know I loved that this was a trail race: pounding on pavement does not sound appealing right now. So.. we’ll see!

Oh yeah, stats:

I finished in 6:42:15.

Ascent – 4:11:49
Descent – 2:30:26

Overall – 297/709
Female – 50/171
Age-group – 13/23

This weekend is the Pikes Peak Marathon. Known as “America’s Ultimate Challenge”, to complete this race will be an amazing accomplishment in itself.

A few weeks ago, Brian Grinnell, one of my running buddies back in Ohio, penned this haiku for me:

Thin air, rocky trails
Up and down the noble peak
Hill conquers mountain

But beyond the recognition from family and friends, Helen and I were invited to attend a special event put on by a group called the Peak Busters a few days before the race.

Peak Busters is an organization that was set up 34 years ago to “provide information and support to women runners who are taking on the challenge of the Pikes Peak Ascent or Marathon.” This year was an extra special year, as they were celebrating the achievement of Arlene Peiper, who completed the Pikes Peak marathon 50 years ago. For those of you keeping score, this made her the first official female marathoner in the United States!

We arrived at the event and were given a commemorative wine glass. There was a nice spread of hors d’oeuvres, dessert, and wine! We took our seats for the program and started chatting to the woman next to us. We said it was our first time to run, and asked what her plans were. She had won the Ascent 12 years ago! She was now living in Steamboat Springs, so we chatted for a bit about the race I’d run there in June.

Soon enough we started the program, which was very emotional and special. Jan Seeley from Marathon and Beyond was the MC, she is a Peak Buster herself. One of the first activities was to invite all first-time runners up to the front of the room. We all shared our name, where we were from and the race we were doing. This “induction into the sorority” takes place a few days before the race, because it is a celebration itself. There will be accolades on the weekend for completing the race, but this is just about the decision to participate.

Jan presented a look at her favorite women running pioneers, women who had made a difference in this sport. And of course, there was a focus on Arlene Peiper, who had completed the PPM so long again. The story had a very special ending: a local genealogist had tracked Arlene down just a few days before, and she would be a special guest at the event this weekend! When the genealogist found 79-year-old Arlene (now Arlene Stine), she wasn’t aware of her status as first female marathoner. Wow!

The program also recognized other amazing finishers, many of whom were in the room among us. One was Diane Israel, who is the Executive Producer of a short film entitled “Beauty Mark” about obsession about self-image and sports. Another was Charlene Aldridge, who has completed 33 races at Pikes Peak – doubling 11 times! Last year she “only” completed the marathon, because the snowstorm caused her to miss the cut-off time on the Ascent. She’ll go for the double again this weekend. Charlene’s story was particularly noteworthy: sometimes, the mountain will win.

The entire event was very emotional: these women were like a community: there were some inside jokes and history shared. We all raised a glass to toast Annabel Marsh, who had been one of the founders of Peak Busters back in 1976. She had passed away this past November, and members said they felt something was missing from the event.

In less than 24 hours, I’ll start on marathon #26. I was telling Helen: your first marathon is special. Your first Boston is special. But at some point, it become “another marathon”. Not so with this one. In part because of the challenge, and also in part of this special event and sisterhood we are now a part of (most years, the race director is the only male invited to the event). This is something special, and there is something that bonds together we women who have elected to take on this challenge. As Jan explained, this race is one that ‘gets under your skin’, and many women come back year after year for it.

No matter what happens tomorrow, I’m glad we decided to take on the challenge. I’m proud to associate myself with the strong, awe-inspiring women I met this week.