I made a huge mistake.
I never should have come to Utah.
In St George’s defence, they never claimed theyd have any Covid-19 precautions or protocols. So it’s not like they failed to deliver. They acted as if Covid-19 never happened… and wasn’t still happening.
I should have realized all of this based on my expo trip yesterday. Yet this morning as I boarded the school bus taking us 26.2 miles, i was stunned at the unmasked super majorities, from volunteers to most runners.
There was a smattering of masks… and i opted for a gaiter/bandana which i know isn’t Fauci preferred but it was better than nothing.
At the start line staging area, the DJ kept telling us St George is the United States 16th biggest marathon. And based on the sea of people gathered around the pre-race bonfires, I certainly believe it.
I was incredibly uncomfortable being there. But this being a point to point race, my car was 26.2 miles away and the easiest solution was to run back.
I had run this race five years prior… but i was a younger man in a world not so crazed. It’s a shame i wasnt better prepared as the weather and tailwind afforded ideal conditions for a speedy time.
I wasn’t trained up for this race. A bit of arrogance was to be expected… but I really should have considered the implications of 4000 feet elevation at the start line. That combined with smoke inhalation from the bonfired made for a tough bit of breathing from the word go.
The course has two tougher hills and a few rolling ones. The first hill is at mile 7, leading past an extinct or dormant volcano’s caldera (because an extinct volcano is but one bad day from spewing lava). This hill killed me. I was huffing and puffing from the altitude … and life … and wound up walking the last bit of incline.
I was excited to see a long stretch of downhill, marked with warning signs for trucks using the road, but I struggled to capitalize on the descent. I think I shredded my calves on the up and downs… another level of fitness lost to the ravages of Covid quarantines.
Indeed, as the miles piled up, a stitch in my side added to the woes. By mile 18, the mile.of the second hill, I was struggling to approximate the Jeff Galloway walk/run strategy, which is heavily regimented when used properly. I however walked whenever I couldn’t muster any more.
The silver lining though was a fellow runner having a mostly equally rough time shaking the cobwebs. His name was Mike and he got me through the remaining miles, first leap frogging back and forth with me in lead position and then side by side. So shout out and thanks to SLC’s Mikael.
I had nothing left at the end, particularly in the closing half mile. Mike ran ahead and finished while I shuffled along behind. I crossed the line with a fine-ish 3:46 but was oh-so-broken. I was and remain just so tired and frustrated with the day – be it the covid-deniers or perhaps the cumulative effects of too many race days canceled… and too many training runs cut short/abandoned.
Speaking of cumulative effects… as I finished the race and found myself in the food hall festivities, I couldn’t bring myself to don my bandana. Was that because I kept eating a ice cream popsicle or downing a bottle of water? Or was it because I felt like why bother since no one else seemed to care to mask up?
I am concerned about a too-quick return to “normal,” mostly in the world at large but also within the running community.
I don’t think I’m overreacting.