Fifteen years ago, I ran my first marathon at the inaugural Salt Lake City Marathon.
Fifteen years late, I thought it would be momentous to come back and run it again for its 15th anniversary… forgetting the difference between intervals and fence posts. The 15th anniversary was actually last year… and so I’m here somewhat appropriately not momentously but out of time and mind. That feels ever so much more Kevin anyway.
Today my feet are still hurting but I’m trying a new insole to address that. Adhering to the age old adage that one should never do anything new on race day, I’m doing something new on the day BEFORE race day. So this should all work out fine.
I’m feeling better than I have been… and I’ve told myself if it hurts too much I will drop out… no matter how hard it is personally or logistically.
A flood of memories overtook me as I went about town today. I guess they were more like flashes than fully formed memories but it is odd to reflect back on that time. That’s where the B-52s played the finisher fest. That’s the hotel I stayed at. That’s where I lay in the grass after finishing and made phone calls on my VirginMobile Pay-As-You-Go cell.
The clearest memory I have though is at the pasta feed on race eve. They no longer have that in 2019, but in 2004 I recall this volunteer dancing to Hey Ya. She was “the girl next door” who just exuded fun and optimism, a woman who pulled up white haired “old” people (people who were at the time probably my age now) to dance with her, having them “shake it like a Polaroid picture.” I only saw her for a few moments but I will always remember her as somebody who could light up a room, who tried to make things better for others. It’s a testament to the notion that the world is vast and we may never know what we have done for others. That woman is 15 years older, probably is married with kids, or off on a mountain climbing adventure with her friends, or solving some mathematical dilemma that could change the course of humankind… whatever she’s doing, I hope she’s happy and still dancing. Because though the world is vast, it is also harsh and can lead even the most optimistic down a cynical path.
I pulled some old photos from circa April 2004 to post here. I figure I’ll wait until tomorrow to do a kind of before and after for the run. But seeing myself so far removed… it’s not always easy. But then again neither is 26.2 miles.
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On my flight out here I sat next to a guy coming to SLC for a fencing tournament. It was being held in the same place as the race expo, so I stopped by to see how he was doing. He had advanced… but he told me everybody did. Not sure how that works but so be it. Here he is getting ready to match epees at mat E1.
I headed to the expo and was underwhelmed. It all seemed so much more… impressive in 2004. Perhaps it’s the difference between being a wide-eyed neophyte and a wearied veteran.
Another memory flash — I was riding the SLC metro in 2004 with other runners to get to the start line. I was nervously fidgety, never having run 26.2 miles. These two guys were talking about their prior races and claimed they couldn’t remember how many they’d done. I thought that was crazy – how could you ever forget running 26.2 miles? And yet, here I am trying to think of all the races I’ve run. The student has become the forgetful fool. In oh so many ways.
I wonder if I’ll finish tomorrow. I know I will at least start… and in some small way that feels like a victory unto itself. I’m way out of shape, injured, not having run for 3 weeks, 25 pounds over my goal weight for easing stress on my body and its frame. But as the fencer guy said to me on the flight – it’s all about focus. But then again he also told me he voted for Trump, so I’m taking that with a grain of salt. Apropos I think given the town I’m in.
Anyhoo, here’s the thing. I remember uncertainty at running a marathon in 2004. And in 2019, there’s uncertainty I’ll run a marathon. Maybe time is a circle and all that has happened will just happen again. Is that optimism or pessimism personified? I wish that girl was here holding a copy of Outkast’s cass-single in her pocket and the other hand offering me to join her dancing.
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The ’04 and ’19 “day before race day”:
