Wednesday, November 11, 2015

Moab Trail Half Marathon


We had an 8:21am start time for the race, little did we know we would wake up to no electricity in the condo in Moab.  But, luckily the stove was gas-powered and someone had matches.  That same someone had planned on doing a night mountain bike ride and packed a bagful of headlamps.  What?!  Smart dude, lucky us.  Oatmeal for everyone and we were out the door by a little before 7am.
 
Fast-forward to our start time and we were off and running – our wave was the largest one, so it was crowded for the first few miles, as we wound our way through the beautiful, breathtaking canyons under the rising sun. 



The views and weather cannot be beat  

It was cold, cold, cold in the shade and pretty darn nice in the sun.  It wasn’t long before we had to lose our long sleeve layer and go with just arm warmers and short sleeves.  We climbed up hills and sped down the descents, rock hopping, traversing over the famous slick rock of Utah, sand running and generally getting warmed up, letting our legs and feet be free.  

Taken atop after an ascent, runners like ants below, following the trail towards the first large hill climb.


Another hill, another photo opp. 

Rolling into the first aid station around mile 6, I expect maybe Gu and water/Gatorade, but we are met with so much more - unconventional sustenance at it's best.  Gummy bears, coca cola, pretzels, orange slices, crackers, cookies - SO MUCH FOOD.  I'm so thankful for the volunteers here, and I tell them, they're so important to this race.
 
My friend Susanne and I separated around mile 7 and the next 2 miles were on and off scrambling (hands and feet needed) and more rock hopping.  My absolute best surprise of the race happened when I passed the 8 mile marker and thought I was only at mile 7.  It’s amazing what a little thing like that can do for your energy level and overall race.  My only regret (and it's a very small one) is that I wish I would have started a wave ahead of where we did, as there was a good line of people, completely backed up and walking, getting through the mile of most aggressive rocks – mile 8-9ish, on a single-track trail, with a drop off on one side and a cliff rising up on the other…so there was no passing anyone on that part and I feel like I could’ve run a good bit of that mile.  I’m thinking the earlier racers had less of a backup and a better time through that area of the trail.  Live and learn.  But I digress…
 
Eventually, we climb up out of the canyon we just descended into, enjoying views like this along the way. 


Then, comes the river.  The term “river crossing” doesn’t do it justice.  It is not a crossing, the race trail actually runs THROUGH the river, as in WITH the river for a good ¼ mile or more.  This means you’re in and out of the river, jumping blind into the water, sometimes sliding on your butt over mud and sometimes you have to jump back in from above,  hoping it just comes up to your knees and not your waist, because it is darn cold and so muddy you can’t see the bottom.  Running blind.  Then your feet are cold, wet and sandy and you have the last mile to finish.  It’s a rolling mile - hills, climbs, descents, wobbly planks laid over more streams and you just keep going…  Then all of a sudden, you hear the crowd at the finish line, you see people up on ridges cheering for their friends, but mostly for everyone finishing this most awesome trail race.  The runners are so spaced out that they announce everyone's name as they cross the finish.  It seems a small thing to do, but it is not - it's a personal touch at the end of a big accomplishment, and it's much appreciated.
 
The food at the finish line is good - hot soup, chips, cookies – hearty, salty and sweet.  Perfect.  I’ll be back.

 

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