I put in one more long run and a couple of short runs during a taper period that didn't exactly meet a proper schedule. None the less, I became more excited to get out to Death Valley so I was soon registered, packed and ready to go. This time I had the good fortune of my wife going along and as luck has it, we managed to book the last room available at the Furnace Creek Ranch - the base for the marathon.

The Furnace Creek Ranch

The night before our trip to Death Valley I had been up all night nursing a stomach ailment from something I had consumed at a local dinner house. It was a hard way to learn a lesson about not eating out prior to making a road trip for a marathon. I awoke groggy with my stomach still uneasy, but we soon headed out for an uneventful trip to the valley. My trusty GPS brought us to the front door of the hotel.

View of the Ranch Grounds

The final instructions for the run indicated that bib pickup is to be at the saloon on the property. This is the first time I've been in a bar at 7AM, let alone getting ready for a run. It became really obvious that this marathon is small and casual - seemed odd it was certified to qualify people for Boston given all of the informalities. For example, there were no timing chips, or other obvious "officiating" that I could see.

The transportation we took to the marathon

Anyway, it was a luxury to sleep in knowing all I had to do was walk to the "bar" and pick up my bib by 7:45AM. I ended up getting getting there by 7AM, so I had lots of time to think about the stomach issues I had and the fact the bowl of pasta I had the night before didn't exactly work too well for me either (I'll spare you the details). Mostly, I just wanted to get running.

The Corkscrew Saloon - aka, Race Bib and Registration Location

The weather was predicted to have a high of 75 degrees. It felt cool enough in the morning before the start - but not very cool. The race officials "strongly recommend" that each runner bring a water bottle due to the dry air. Hmm, I thought that the water stations at every three miles will be more than enough, won't they? I left my water bottle behind.

So as the various other runners arrived we mostly found ourselves searching for the official start line, since it wasn't obvious - that is until the Race Director and originator of the Death Valley Borax Marathon came out to point at it. He gave us a pre-race briefing, which also applied to all starters for the half marathon and 10K entrants. Those of us in the full marathon were given a ten minute head start to avoid any early log jams. This run is an out and back, so 13.1 miles out we do a 180 turn on the road and just come back to the Ranch - how convenient is that!

This is the start/finish line right out in front of the Ranch (photo taken as finishers coming in).

So a little after 8AM it's finally time to rock and roll. Speaking of which, the Race Director had all of us sing America the Beautiful before we started. Certainly fitting for such an awe inspiring scenery, but it seems only a few knew the words.

After a count down to zero, we were off. I had a humble and very doable plan of averaging eleven minute miles or a total race time of about 4.8 hours. I had tried to factor in all of the variables leading up the the race, my training, my nutrition, the temps of the valley, my stomach issues and so forth. No problem, or so I thought.

Typical view along the route

For the first 5 or 6 miles I was feeling good, but was running ahead of my planned pace, as slow as it might have been. Miles 6 thru 13 (the turn around) I slowed to my planned pace.

The runners really spread out on this thing since less than 200 hundred were running the full marathon. It gets lonely on the road in the desert!

Lonely highway 190

After the half way mark it began to heat up. No shade for us, just clear blue skies and heat (I think it was a little under 80f maybe a tad bit warmer on the pavement). It was at this point I realized my mistake by not bringing a water bottle as my pallet was dry as a bone and the next water station was miles way. I consumed what I could at each water station but I was either bloated or parched, nothing in-between. I opted for parched most of the time.

Around mile 15 my calves begin to lock up with extraordinary pain. This happened during training and I had learned how to work thru the pain and keep running, even if at a slower pace. About mile 16 or 17 the calf pain went from hurting to disabling - that is to say hard to move no matter what the brain tried to correct. From this point on I knew I was screwed and even my humble eleven minute per mile plan would be scuttled.

Death Valley had dealt me a lesson in humility, I averaged a painstakingly slow pace of 12 minute miles as I had to walk much of the remaining course. I used road markers as goals, run from this one to that one, then walk from this one to that one, and repeat. Hard as I may have tried, the legs just weren't in the game and all I could do is suck it up and get to the finish by will power.

Me arriving at the finish

Even in the humility of it all I learned a great deal about the art of the marathon, a few things about myself, and a lot to learn about what makes my calves breakdown when I need them the most.

Where else can you arrive at a finish line with a Coyote waiting to snack on you for lunch?

In parting, I will say that the Death Valley experience was great, even given its casual tone and nonchalant atmosphere. It was damned hard with the heat, dehydration, pain, and humble finish time but still a worthy experience.

I finished in 5 hours and 14 minutes