I was runner 4. And with a team of 12 we had 2 vans to cheer on runners, meet at exchanges to hand off the baton (it's actually a slap bracelet, I never thought they could be so useful!).
Leg 1: 5.1 miles, 9:40 pace
As I started this leg of the race, I actually felt nervous. Nervous because I didn't know how my team would view my running form, pace, or if they would think anything at all. I haven't run on a team since my track days in 1996! I was nervous about how I would perform. If I didn't give 100% in the first leg to save energy for the end, would it make a difference? I was concerned about the unfamiliar terrain and the swarms of other runners I might encounter. Yet, all the fear and concern I felt dissipated when I looked around. The rolling hills, the greenery, the cows grazing in fields. The elderly couple watching the clouds and runners from lawn-chairs. Even the in-home taxidermy shop I passed with 5 point elks displayed outside made me chuckle, as I ran through a part of Northern Utah I had never seen before. It was beautiful. I kept my pace comfortable so I would have an excuse to push it later, as long as I felt capable. I passed no one. And one guy wearing blazing, bright green passed me like I was going backwards. I also had a nice middle-aged women on my tail for the last 2 miles and we stayed neck-in-neck for the duration of the entire race (actually our teams stayed close), although, she never passed me. I just passed her once and was waiting at an exchange with her later as well. Anyway, the first leg was pretty comfortable for me. There were some inclines and mild declines and nothing really unexpected. And with a start time of just after 4pm, it wasn't too hot. Probably hovered around 70 degrees. The first leg of the race gave me more excitement and anticipation for the upcoming 24 hours. My team diligently stopped to cheer me on and keep me hydrated and I felt really good.
Leg 2: 4.2 miles, 9 minute pace
My night run started around Midnight. I started the leg with a burst of energy immediately passing a woman about my age as we exited the exchange. She didn't seem bothered like maybe she was used to it, or just tired. As I wove through the dark watching for car headlights, it seemed very peaceful. I wasn't nervous at all and I was surprised that the hat, reflective vest and headlamp I was wearing didn't feel unnatural. But as I pressed forward I noticed my pace wasn't as fast as I had hoped for. I guess it made sense though, while running in the dark it's tough to see where you are headed or know how much distance was covered. When my van stopped to give me water I was surprised it had only been 2 miles. Yet, I was able to enjoy that the temperature was ideal for running. I wore long sleeves and didn't feel hot at all. the stars and the moon were bright and I could see another runner ahead of me for a long time before I noticed I was slowly gaining on him/her. Knowing that I was making small progress pushed me a little harder. I picked up my feet a little higher and adjusted my headlamp hoping I might find a way to increase my visibility, which might help me get under a 9 min. pace. The closer I got the less I noticed the dark. Yet, she was moving, and was probably more than 1/4 mile ahead. If the road had a bend ahead, I would lose sight of her and see her flickering red tail light again when it straightened. When the road went flat I took some deep, low breaths and and focused on my form: legs kicking high, check, arms rapidly swinging across my belt loops, check, breathing smooth and easy, check, back straight with a slight lean forward, check! Now push! I creeped up on her quickly and quietly, and as I passed her I realized she was the opponent I had had during my first leg! Awesome! She smiled and looked at peace. I passed volunteers reading pop culture magazines in lawn chairs. They looked bored. I was grateful they were there because it meant that I was getting closer. I felt good and continued to push my pace until I came to a hill which brought me into town. More cars, lights, noises, a teen yelled "you're going the wrong way!" But I kept moving up that hill because I knew the exchange was near and I felt calm and satisfied.
Leg 3: 4.1 miles, 8:05 pace
As I started this leg my heart was pumping. The sun was beating down on us and the cars were zipping fast on the canyon road. I wanted to give this leg of the race my all, no regrets! As I exited the exchange I sprinted for a minute and then settled in to what I thought was about an 8 minute pace. The decline was a bit tough, but I knew I just had about 4 miles and I would be done! The others runners around me (quite a few this time), looked very tired. Their forms were poor and I could tell many of them just wanted to finish and didn't care about anything else but picking up their feet, one at a time. Not me, I was cruisin'! I sped past those runners and counted at least 8 or 9 in the first 3 miles, which I finished in excellent time. It was the last mile+ that was a little tougher. As I could see the exchange area in the distance, I realized a had a dirt hill to ascend and still another 1/4 mile more after the hill. Yikes! I pushed myself for the remaining flat ground I had and took some deeps breaths. Then as best I could I climbed that hill. Dust was whirling in the wind and puffs of dirt would seep into my face and nose as race vans would surge up the hill. I felt like I was on a stair stepper on the hardest resistance. And after the descent I had just overcome, my quads were completely shot. Plus, I was feeling so thirsty--that dust, ugh! The sun was so hot and my skin was just salty, there wasn't any time for the sweat to form, it immediately evaporated, and gave no relief. Almost to the top, almost there. Don't stop. Keep going. I did it! Hooray, now just run to the exchange. My legs felt like jelly and my heart was beating so fast, I was hurting, and the GU I downed before this leg was starting to heave in my stomach--please don't throw up, please, not now. I am here! I am done! I pulled the bracelet off, my wrist shaking to get it straight for the hand-off. And I was done! Hooray!
As I started this leg my heart was pumping. The sun was beating down on us and the cars were zipping fast on the canyon road. I wanted to give this leg of the race my all, no regrets! As I exited the exchange I sprinted for a minute and then settled in to what I thought was about an 8 minute pace. The decline was a bit tough, but I knew I just had about 4 miles and I would be done! The others runners around me (quite a few this time), looked very tired. Their forms were poor and I could tell many of them just wanted to finish and didn't care about anything else but picking up their feet, one at a time. Not me, I was cruisin'! I sped past those runners and counted at least 8 or 9 in the first 3 miles, which I finished in excellent time. It was the last mile+ that was a little tougher. As I could see the exchange area in the distance, I realized a had a dirt hill to ascend and still another 1/4 mile more after the hill. Yikes! I pushed myself for the remaining flat ground I had and took some deeps breaths. Then as best I could I climbed that hill. Dust was whirling in the wind and puffs of dirt would seep into my face and nose as race vans would surge up the hill. I felt like I was on a stair stepper on the hardest resistance. And after the descent I had just overcome, my quads were completely shot. Plus, I was feeling so thirsty--that dust, ugh! The sun was so hot and my skin was just salty, there wasn't any time for the sweat to form, it immediately evaporated, and gave no relief. Almost to the top, almost there. Don't stop. Keep going. I did it! Hooray, now just run to the exchange. My legs felt like jelly and my heart was beating so fast, I was hurting, and the GU I downed before this leg was starting to heave in my stomach--please don't throw up, please, not now. I am here! I am done! I pulled the bracelet off, my wrist shaking to get it straight for the hand-off. And I was done! Hooray!
