Odometer (NSX): 101,908
Odometer (ILX): 142,582
Trip Distance: 854 Miles
Sometimes, when you take ibuprofen, it’s for a specific pain point in your body: a headache, a sore hip, whatever. When I popped a pill at mile #18 of the 2015 St. George, Utah marathon, I told that little thing: “Pick a muscle, any muscle.” I was dying, everywhere. But 8 miles later, I finished my 9th full marathon and even achieved my target finish time.
I’m definitely a little out of my mind. With all these travels in recent weeks, do you think I’ve had time to train for a marathon? Not even close. A few miles here and there in the evenings, and that’s it. As a matter of fact, the longest distance I’d run since the Wasatch Back Ragnar Relay in June was a measly 3 miles in one stretch. You can imagine my sense of apprehension when the shuttle bus dropped me off at the starting line for this race.
Ready or not, I had a long way to go. But, as I’ve shared before, I compare a long-distance run to a long-distance drive: You just have to slice it up into manageable “chunks” and convince your brain that it’s achievable in small bites. So, in my case, I looked at the race as just running three miles. Over and over again. This year’s race was a family affair: Mom, stepmom, uncle, aunt, and cousin were all running it. The chances of (literally) running into ANY of them among 7,000 total runners was slim-to-none. But right before the biggest hill in the 26-mile stretch, the dreaded “Veyo Hill,” I saw my uncle Jeff and we chatted it up. We had car talk for a few minutes, until I panted and said, “You have a better pace than I do; go on ahead!” and he left me in a cloud of dust.
Meanwhile, mom was already miles ahead of me and I had a lot of time to meditate while pounding the pavement and listening to some thumpin’ music to keep me motivated. I downed a Five Hour Energy and a couple of “GU” energy gels along the way. And, of course, a few ibuprofen as already stated. Thank goodness for those. Around mile 24, Grandma was seated alongside the road in a camp chair at the same place where she always does. That was just the push that I needed to go those next couple of miles to the finish line. I also saw my dad, brother, sis-in-law, and niece/nephew spectating. And FINALLY – as the course rounded the corner to 200 South and headed east, I could see the Finish Line sign & balloons in the distance and gave a little extra push to have a strong completion to the race.
Two chocolate milks chugged later, I was feeling better about the decision to give this whole thing yet another try.
Start line with mom and with our friend Jed
Cousin April & Uncle Jeff
Gatorade & water cups all over the place!
Sign on the roadside alerting runners: If you don’t get to “X” point by “X” time, you’re done! They have to open the road back up to traffic!
My favorite part in the race – at about mile 15, when we skirted along Snow Canyon State Park on State Route 18.
Grandma with her traditional sign! Thanks for your support, Doce!
3-year-old nephew, Beckam, totally airborne and running with me at an impressive sprint.
Anddddd, the weary runners. Tia, Tyson, Tanya
My final standings – a 4:55 finish time in my age bracket is nothing to be proud of, but I was just glad to get in under the 5-hour mark. I thought it was interesting how my minutes-per-mile pace was a consistent 9:40 to start and then slipped to 10:31, 10:53, and finally 11:16. I was crawling!
Clearly, my mom has better calves than I do.
Speaking of legs: The first leg of my trip was that ho-hum 400-ish mile drive in the ILX that I’ve done so many times before. I got to my mom’s place around midnight. On Friday morning, we went to the marathon “Expo” where I had to retrieve my bib number, goodie bag, and a few supplies.
Afterward, I stopped by my brother Bentley’s workplace to check out his latest project: a 1990 Ford F-350 4×4 dual cab, long-bed pickup truck that he restored as a “project truck” for my dad. If needed, I’m sure it could have monster-trucked (is that a verb?) right over the top of the two Acuras sitting alongside it.
Let’s take a look at that interior. Twenty five years old! And still looking pretty fresh. That red color is eye-popping, but I love it.
Don’t get carried away with the need for speed here. Note that A) The speedometer maxes out at 85 miles per hour, and B) the odometer only has 5 digits. This truck has 126,000 miles on it but shows only 26,000.
Bentley went all-out on this rebuild, including a complete “undercoat” of the bottom of the truck in fresh black paint and some new shocks.
Dad was thrilled about the pickup when he arrived! It rides pretty much as you’d expect it to – like an absolute tank. Speaking of tanks, let’s talk fuel economy. The truck has TWO fuel tanks, at what I believe are 16 gallons’ capacity each. Why so much fuel? It’s thirsty. Power for this rig comes from a 460-cubic-inch V8 motor. We’re talking fewer than 10 miles per gallon here.
But as an around-town workhorse, it’ll sure beat my dad having to haul lumber out the back of his 2010 Hyundai Sonata (and yes, that really has happened).
Another car in Bentley’s garage was begging to be taken for a walk around the block: This 1968 Chevy Nova SuperSport. It’s fully engine-swapped and mechanically updated from 1968 spec, but it’s a really REALLY fun car to drive. There’s nothing quite like the roar of a V8.
Bentley demonstrated that when pulling it out of the garage for us. Watch until the end.
With stepmom Tanya.
And with dad taking the wheel for a little bit. Chris M says I make this face too much. He’s right.
ILX calling it a night out in front of mom’s house, as did I at an early hour. Pooped.
I put a few miles on a family friend’s Porsche tonight. It’s a 911 Carrera “4S” model, and was a hoot to drive – minus its lack of a clutch pedal.
Have a great week!
drivetofive 