Running in the Rain

Yesterday was race day in Ogden, Utah. In mid-May each year O-town hosts the Ogden Marathon and Half Marathon. It's always one of my favorite weekends with the town full of runners and fans. It feels like a giant party! I love the vibe of community support, encouragement, accomplishment and fun. The course is a nationally ranked favorite, winding down scenic Ogden Canyon, along the Ogden River and then finishing up in downtown Ogden. This video gives a birds-eye view of the entire course. Ogden Marathon Course

I've run the Ogden half marathon twice. Yesterday I ran as part of a marathon relay team, one of five people running legs of varying distances for a total of 26.2 miles. I ran leg four which is five miles down Ogden Canyon. Here's our team at the finish line--cold, wet, hungry and proud of our finisher medals!

Foley's MMA Training Center Relay Team
Tom, Shawn, Justin, me, Mike

It rained all day yesterday with a constant drizzle coming down from early morning throughout the entire race. At several points during the day there was a serious downpour! The rain didn't seem to dampen anyone's enthusiasm though. I think it even added to the enthusiasm for some of the runners. Although I wasn't excited about the rain, I didn't mind running in it. Being wet is much, much better than being too hot and getting dehydrated. The rain also made for some amazing scenic views. The mix of gray granite canyon walls, lush greenery and misty clouds was gorgeous! Mike ran the second leg and took this picture during his six-mile run through upper Ogden Valley. 

Mike McAuliffe photo

Marathon weekend is filled with memories and meaning for me and I tend to get very emotional when I run the course. I ran my first Ogden half three years ago, which I wrote about in this earlier blog post: Chasing Pavements. It was a real accomplishment for me. I'd trained alone and I ran the entire race alone. Looking back now, I'm pretty impressed at my level of dedication and training. I was focused and determined. My life was in a really good place in May of 2010. I was 40, I was fit, and very happy with my friends, family and life in general. 

The weekend is also forever linked to my memories of Julie. She was with me that weekend in 2010 and it was the last time I saw her alive. Those memories and feelings are overwhelming to me. Yesterday, I slept at Mike's house in Ogden Canyon so I didn't have to get up so early to catch a shuttle bus to my relay starting point. I walked the mile up from his house to my relay exchange point. 

Walking up the canyon is rare. It isn't wide enough for foot traffic and very unsafe for pedestrians, but on race day it's closed to vehicles for several hours. I was alone in the rain, walking next to the Ogden River, surrounded by lush, green beauty. Runners from the full and half marathons passed me in the opposite direction, happy and waving. It was one of those rare, peaceful, completely content life moments and it made my heart hurt so badly I could hardly breath. Moments like that never fail to make me think of Julie. She didn't just leave me and everyone who loved her, she left this beautiful life and world. She left those moments like yesterday of being alive, healthy and strong on a beautiful day. And of course, she left me, which I think about every single time I run. I miss her horribly on race days. She was my inspiration, my cheerleader, my coach and one of my biggest fans. I used to run races looking forward to the finish. The finishes and the victories no matter how short or long the distance are different for me now. They make me both happy and sad. I want her there waiting for me at the finish line. I always will. 

Our last picture together
May 15, 2010

Chasing Pavements

This Saturday, I'll run my 4th half marathon, the Ogden Marathon. My sister Amy, and good friend Aimee will both be joining me. It will be my second time running this particular race, which is considered one of the best marathons in the country.  

I first started running about 2 1/2 years ago. I'd never been a runner, or had any desire to be one. Running was boring, and it hurt. My two sisters had been running races together for a few years at that point. After being at the finish line cheering them on a couple of times, the running bug bit me. After a couple of months of run/walk workouts building up to jogging a few miles, I confessed to my sisters that I'd started running and wanted to do a race. 

Julie immediately took charge, and before I knew it she'd convinced me that I should do a half marathon. Yep, that's right.  13.1 miles straight out of the gate! Before long, she called to say she'd found the perfect race for the three of us to do together. It was a fast, downhill course through old Colorado mining towns near Vail. That summer was spent training, following the schedule she'd sent me.  All three of us did our long runs early on Sunday mornings. Amy and Julie doing theirs together in Colorado, me running alone in Utah.  We'd text each other just before heading out, giving each other words of encouragement.  Afterwards, we'd immediately text each other with reports of our runs, or we'd have one of our three-way conference calls if we had a lot to share. 

Training alone was hard, and there were many times I wanted to quit early. Many of my runs started out with me listening to Pink Floyd's "Wish You Were Here". I did wish they were there beside me. The mental conditioning part of training was probably the hardest part.  Knowing that I'd be running with my sisters on race day was often the one thing that helped me push through. 

Finally, race day arrived. The night before the three of us stayed in Vail, where Julie was living and working that summer.  That night was sister time at its best.  Lots of laughter, giggling, and talking. The race itself was nothing like I'd expected.  Julie had so pumped up the fact that the course was an "easy, downhill one" that I'd mentally visualized we'd literally be starting at the top of a downhill canyon road, and off we'd go. Imagine my dismay when we lined up for the start facing the wrong way!  I looked at her in confusion, and then realized we'd be running around an entire lake first, then heading down the canyon. Over the next several months, Julie often drove by Georgetown Lake on her way to work. She'd call me saying "Hey, I'm driving by your lake", and we'd both crack up remembering my confusion and disgust that morning.  

Julie, me and Amy
May 15, 2010

Last May, I ran the Ogden 1/2 marathon alone. I'd wanted the three of us to run it together, but registration closed before Amy and Julie could sign up. They promised however, that they'd both be there for me on race day, and would even run the last little bit with me. True to their promise, they were. Amy had ruptured her Achilles tendon several weeks before, so she couldn't run with me at the end.  Julie promised she'd be there, waiting as I came onto the straightaway headed to the finish. When I got to that point, I was exhausted and just wanted to be done.  I looked for Julie and didn't see her and my heart fell. So, I turned up my iPod and kept running. Then, I spotted her out of the corner of my eye. She was running, and laughing, waving frantically to get my attention.  She'd been right where she'd said she'd be, I'd just missed her. We ran those last several blocks together, me cursing and asking if it was over yet, and her cheerfully encouraging me.  Just before the final stretch, she said "I'm outta here. You're doing great, just a few more yards and you're done. I love you sis". 

A few weeks ago on one of my last long training runs, I went down that stretch of road again.  As hard as I tried to not remember, I couldn't help it. I had to Mike how hard this race was going to be for me. He suggested maybe I should run the race for Julie. My angry reaction surprised even me. "Why would I run it for her? She's gone. She chose to leave.  I'm running it for me, and me alone. I'm the one who's trained. I'm the one who's alive and didn't give up!". 

I will be running this race for me, but I'll be running because of Julie. Running is a gift she left me. Sometimes I use it to run away from all the confusion and pain in my mind, staying focused by forcing myself to think of anything but her. Other times, I use it because I miss her and running makes me feel close to her. On Saturday I plan to just run, and remember, not the sadness, but the joy, and all the good times we had together.