I’d been in a feud with the marathon for the past 18 months. I hadn’t run a race that I’d been happy with since Marine Corp in 2010, and I fell apart in that one. The last couple of months had been especially rough with the heat in Nashville and the nausea in Deadwood. I needed a good race. Or at least a decent one.
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| Me with Chuck to my left and Annette and Tom |
| just behind us. The other dude? No idea, but |
| I'm sure he enjoyed the race, too. |
A few days before we were scheduled to fly to Montana, I checked the forecast. High of 94 degrees. Are you kidding me? More than a few times, I thought about bagging it.
But I was going with my friend Jim Lynch, who was moving to Hawaii less than a week after the race, and a few other friends were heading up, too. Oh, why not?
Jim and I flew out on Saturday morning. He’s a veteran with 87 marathons under his belt heading into this one, and he likes to make these trips quickly. We got to Missoula around 1 p.m., following a quick layover in Salt Lake City, and we were flying out at 1 p.m. the next day. After taking care of the usual pre-race stuff, we met up with our friends Donna Wise and Kandy Timinski, as well as Kandy’s friend Jill, for some carbo loading at Ciao Mambo.
Morning came too soon. The questions about why I was about to run a marathon came quickly. Jim and I were up at 4 a.m. and out the door 45 minutes later, heading to the buses that would take us to the start. We found the bus pickup, and the line was literally wrapped around the block. At first, I was a little annoyed (for no real reason, other than it was early and I was cranky), but the nervous, happy energy among those waiting changed my attitude. We reached the starting area, and they had everything we needed (i.e. – plenty of port-a-potties and a bag drop).
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| The Missoula Marathon is 26.2 miles |
| of stunning beauty. I am 6-foot-2 |
| of considerably less beauty. |
The race started when a cannon fire fired, and fireworks shot off to our left. We started near Frenchtown and headed down a long road with cow pastures on both sides. Seriously, we were on that road for nearly 9.5 miles without making a turn.
Both Jim and I had bibs on our back with pictures of Michael Fontes on them, and I thought about Mike a lot during those early miles. I couldn’t help but think he would love the cool morning with the sun cresting the mountain on our left side.
At dinner the night before, Jim and Donna said they really don’t like talking to people during a race. I’m the opposite. I love meeting new people during races and clicking off a few miles with them. For the first four miles, I kept to my own thoughts and reflections.
Then I ran past a few people, and all I heard was, “In K.C.” I turned and asked if they were talking about the Kansas City Marathon. They were, and I told them it was my hometown. It turned out that two of them went to Rockhurst College in K.C., so we struck up a conversation. I asked if I could latch on to them for a while and they were welcoming.
I generally stick with people for a couple of miles and then we part ways. Little did I know, I would hang with Annette Toomer, her dad Chuck and her friend Tom for quite a while. Chuck was running his 17th marathon, but Annette and Tom were running their first.
Like I said, I was in a feud with the marathon, and I needed something to help me. I decided I wanted to stick with these guys and try to help them finish their first.
Right after the halfway mark, we headed up the only real hill on the course. It was pretty tough, but Tom (who lives in Missoula) said that the views at the top made it worth the climb. He was right. The next three miles were among the best I’ve ever run during a race. We were high up, overlooking rivers and pastures with mountains all around us. Living in Colorado for the last 14 years, I see beautiful views on a daily basis. But this was different. It was peaceful. It was perfect.
At some point I jumped in a port-a-potty and figured I was probably not going to see them anymore. Instead, I spotted Chuck. We laughed as we speculated that Annette and Tom were probably miles ahead already. I had a great conversation with Chuck, who said the first half of the race was the best he had ever felt during a marathon. We talked about running and families and life in general – this was the first time he had ever gotten to run a race with one of his six children – as we passed a man in a tuxedo playing a grand piano. And we crossed over a bridge with a wide stretch of whitewater below us, and a kazoo playing “band” at the end.
About that time, Annette caught back up to us. It seems she made a stop, too, so she had to track us down. Not long after, Annette and I started to pull away from Chuck. Also around this time, I noticed a guy named Matt who had been running near us for a few miles, so I asked him to join us. He was running his second marathon, but his first had been a few years before.
By that point, we had hit the neighborhoods with enough turns to make up for the straight stretch on Mullan Road to start the race. This was also the point when first time marathoners begin to struggle and to lose trust in their training. Actually, that’s the point when nearly all of us, regardless of the number of marathons we’ve run, begin to struggle and to lose trust in our training.
I can almost guarantee you that Annette and Matt would tell you I was helping them. The truth is that I was using them. I needed something to help me through this race and this slump I’d been in. I hadn’t done a marathon without walking in a long, long time.
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| Annette's caption for this picture was, |
| "Kicking Mike Kennedy's ass." She did. |
I’m not a marathon expert. Not even close to it. But I do know quite a bit about walking during marathons. And this is all you need to know: Once you start walking, it’s almost impossible to get any kind of rhythm back. I knew the three of us needed to just keep going. Just keep moving forward.
There are not a ton of people along the Missoula Marathon course, but the ones that were out there were outstanding – and I include the volunteers and police directing traffic in that statement. Everyone was friendly, and everyone was cheering for all the runners. I thanked several people for coming out, and they looked taken aback. Their reply was always the same: “Thank you for coming to our town and allowing us to do this.” And that, my friends, is why I absolutely love smaller marathons.
Around Mile 22, I saw a guy with “Kive” printed on the back of his shirt. He was walking and I just said, “Come on, Kive. Run with us.” He smiled and then started running. It was his first marathon, too. Annette, Matt, Kive (real name Kevin) and I weaved through the neighborhoods, never really knowing where we were.
Kive had to start walking again at Mile 24, and at Mile 25 I heard Matt groan. He cramped up bad enough to pull something in his leg. I wanted to finish the race with Annette and Matt, but I knew Annette and I had to keep going. We yelled some encouragement to Matt and told him we’d wait for him at the finish.
Annette really didn’t complain much. She clearly had hit the wall at Mile 20, but she was gutting it out. The last mile was probably the hardest for her, but I kept telling her whatever I could think of that might keep her going.
“You’ve got a mile to go. You can have a beer in your hand in less than 10 minutes.”
“Less than a half mile to go.”
And, finally, “Hey Annette, see that sign? How beautiful is that?”
The sign said, “Mile 26.” And Annette beamed. In fact, I’m not sure I’ve ever seen anyone smile that big.
We made one last turn, and people were lining the bridge for the final 200 meters. We saw the finish line, and Annette went into an absolute sprint. She pulled ahead of me and I saw her turn back. I said, “No way. Keep going. This is all yours.”
The next thing I heard was, “Crossing the finish line now is Annette Toomer from Yakima, Washington. And Mike Kennedy from Denver, Colorado.”
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| Friends Jim Lynch (look for his book coming out soon), |
| Donna Wise and Kandy Timinski all agreed with me that |
| Missoula should be toward the top of every marathoner's list |
We crossed at 4:08. It’s not a BQ. It’s not a PR. But it’s an hour better than my last two. And it was as much fun as I’ve ever had in a race. I realized it during those final 6.2 miles. I had fallen in love with the marathon again. There is so much more to it than a simple finish time. It’s the things you see, and the people you meet.
I have a feeling Annette is going to drop at least 30 minutes in her next marathon. And I can pretty much guarantee you she will be signing up for another one soon.
Tom had a great race, too, finishing right around four hours. Matt crossed the line a few minutes after us, and I saw Kive finish with a giant, well deserved smile a couple minutes after that.
The Missoula Marathon is nearly perfect. I still love Big Sur, but Missoula is right on its heels. I hope they don’t change the race in any way in the future. And the heat held off until a couple hours after we finished.
A few years ago, Runner’s World called Missoula the best marathon in America. With all due respect to Big Sur, I’m not about to argue. I loved it.
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