Race Report: Spirit of St. Louis Marathon, 6 April.
This was my 3rd marathon, and a homecoming experience for me. I lived it St. Louis for 15 years, and moved away 6 years ago. I miss the place. I would have entered if they only promised aid stations, traffic control, and a guy with a stopwatch. As it is, the organizers are really trying to make a headline event. They combined a USA Track & Field Women’s championship on Saturday with some other running events and made a Family Fitness weekend of it.
Unfortunately, as it turned out, almost none of the planning and events would make up for the awful weather. At race start the temperature was 34 degrees, and within minutes of the starting gun, a light drizzle started falling. It intensified over the 1st hour into an honest sleet/rain mix, then let up. I had come prepared for rain, or for cold, but having the two together made it miserable. (Actually, I had been more worried that early April in St. Louis could catch a warm trend, which I would be really unprepared for).
So, I ran with three shirts (two synthetic and one cotton), shorts, running gloves (not waterproof - gotta look into that) and for the 1st hour I wore a cheap raincoat, then pitched it.
My plan was to run 9:40s until mile 20, then try to muster 11:00 minute miles. I was three minutes ahead at the halfway point (which was in sight of the 1904 Olympic venue). At mile 20, I was one minute ahead. The last 6.2 was a real killer, with a couple of sadistic hills, and I finished in 4:24 (a PR by 10 minutes, despite the conditions).
In my other marathons, I relished the last quarter mile, knowing I’d accomplished something special. In this case, at mile 25.5 the course passed right by my hotel, and all I could think about was how I was going to survive the end of the race, plus walk back the three-quarter miles and get into a hot bath. It really was a concern, because my fingers had gone numb, and (after finishing) I began shivering quite a bit. I couldn’t linger and enjoy the other finishers for fear of hypothermia.
But later, two ales and a Bison burger at the Route 66 Brewpub, I could share my stories of heroic endurance.