2011 Pocatello Marathon

17. Pocatello Marathon – Pocatello, Idaho – Aug. 27, 2011

The race begins in the dark, but the sun

starts to rise after the first couple of miles

Two years earlier, I traveled all the way to Pocatello only to back down to the half marathon due to the first of several calf injuries I would suffer. I loved that race, even though I was disappointed about backing down a race. Determined to get it done in 2011, my friends Jim Lynch and Michelle Wolcott joined me in the short flight to Salt Lake City, followed by a two-hour drive north to Pocatello, a blue-collar college town.

I’ve really learned to love small races, and this one captures all the greatness that less participants and outstanding organization can offer. The expo is in a meeting room at the Red Lion Hotel. There are no lines. You walk right to a folding table and give your bib number to a smiling volunteer. Once you get your bib and T-shirt, you grab a bag of potatoes – quite possibly the most unique extra at any race. For the record, I ate the potatoes after both races, and they were outstanding. Later that night, we returned to the same meeting room for the pasta dinner. Like everything else about this race, it was cheap and good.

Michelle, who was running the half, dropped Jim and I off at the finish line, where we caught a bus to the starting line. They drove us up to a gap in the mountains. It was pitch black outside, as all the marathoners gathered and talked. It was a little chilly, so Jim and I made our way into a goat barn that the owner had offered up to runners for a little shelter. We had to be a little careful about where we stepped and put our bags down, and of course we also had to make way when the goats and chickens walked by. There were probably 20-25 runners hanging out and waiting, sitting on hay bales. This was race No. 80 for Jim, but it seems he still has things to learn from the marathon. This morning, he realized that sitting on hay after applying Vaseline to his thighs may have been a mistake.

Jim Lynch, my nerdy compression socks and

I hung out in a goat barn, waiting for the race.

The first 13 miles of the race are absolutely beautiful, not to mention significantly downhill. The course runs along a road next to a river that is surrounded by pine trees. I had planned on running with Jim, but he was feeling great and started too fast for me. About five miles in, I saw a guy with what looked like a giant rattail. As I caught up to him, I realized that it was just the band for his sunglasses. I couldn’t resist telling him about it, and he said he got that all the time. We ended up running the next 12 miles together. He was from Seattle, and oddly he had just visited the University of Denver a few weeks before with his daughter who was considering the school. As I’ve mentioned with previous races, I love meeting new people during races because talking always makes the miles go more easily. I know a lot of runners who don't say a word or even look around during races. But I would rather sacrifice a few minutes on the clock to enjoy myself a little more on the run. I wish I could remember his name, although it wouldn’t surprise me if we ran into each other at a race in the future.

The first half of the race is all downhill with amazing scenery.

I was shooting for a four-hour race, especially since I was using the race as a training run for New York City a few months later. My new friend from Seattle told me that he had to back down and wished me luck as I kept going. Once we hit the 14-mile mark, the course really flattened out as we headed back toward town. It’s not as scenic, but there was something I really liked about running along quiet roads for the next six miles. Around Mile 21, we crossed under the interstate and hit the only real uphill on the course, although the 100 feet or so of elevation gain is a small price to pay for the 1500-feet of elevation loss throughout the rest of the race. I got to the top of the hill and suddenly I had to change my stride mid-step. My foot was heading right toward the head of a snake. The head is all there was, but his eyes were pointed up toward me and his fangs were exposed, as if he wanted to protect himself even after death. I also didn’t want to find out if those fangs could make it through the soles of my shoes. Fortunately, I was able to land an inch or two away. Every race offers something I’ve never seen before.

Next the course runs by a few trailer parks. Normally that might not be ideal, but a few of the neighborhood kids came out and cheered as we ran by. On a course that doesn’t have a ton of spectators, those kids helped. My calves started tightening up, and I didn’t want to risk tearing them again. I wasn’t going all that fast, and I knew slowing down would probably cost me the four-hour mark, but the risk wasn’t worth it, especially with New York on the horizon. I was walking and running the rest of the way. I met a guy wearing a maple leaf on his shirt and shorts. He said he was hoping to qualify for Boston, but he just didn’t have it that day. A few minutes later, he admitted that he had just missed qualifying in his last race, and I asked when that was. He said two weeks before. Oh, and that one had been his first marathon. I’m no expert, but I would not have given him a very good chance of having a great race in Pocatello. We helped each other to the end, coming in at 4:07.

The sign as you drive (or run) into town says, “Pocatello. Smile Capital U.S.A.” During race weekend the two times I was there, it was true for both the people around town and the runners. The natives are extremely friendly and pleasant, and the race is outstanding. I’m sure there were some runners that were disappointed with their races, but I didn’t see them. All the finishers I saw at the finish area were smiling and enjoying themselves, while partaking in the famed baked potato bar along with several other goodies. We headed back to the hotel for quick showers and then jumped back in the car. The best part about flying in and out of Salt Lake? They built an In-n-Out Burger just north of town. It was the perfect post-race meal for us. We were away from Denver less than 36 hours, packing in perhaps more in a limited amount of time than any other race trip. For those people that don’t necessarily need a ton of spectators to carry them through the race, Pocatello is a must-do. Aside from maybe Fallsburg, I’ve never seen a race where runners get more for their time and money. And, despite my somewhat average performance (and that of my new Canadian friend), this course has BQ written all over it.