Missoula Marathon

Have you seen the movie "A River Runs Through It" ? The scenery outside of Missoula really hasn't changed much. Oh sure there are a few roads and cars, but the homes are separated by enough land to give you freedom, the rivers still run wide and deep, this year especially with the unusual amount of snowfall, and the mountains still had snow even in July.

The marathon started outside of Missoula in a little "don't blink your eyes" town, at dawn.

Fireworks against the soft glow of the morning rays just barely starting to light the sky was the signal that it was time to run.

From the moment we began with the day dawning and a much appreciated 48 degrees, I really did not feel my feet hit the ground. I was too distracted by the amazing views of the mountains that surround this glacial valley.

But it wasn't just the mountains, it was the people. From the farmhouse who had a wagon at the end of their long driveway with flowers and a sign welcoming us and a box of tissue tied to the mailbox. Someone new how runners noses ....well...run! To the couple who rode their horses through the valley to cheer us on.

And then there was the long hill, the only hill, but a doozy of a hill at the mid way point. Normally this would ruin my day but I was so in love with this country, the river, the trees, the valley, the mountains, the snow, the clear blue sky...I sailed right up, then struggled downhill a bit, a little tough on the knees.

After the hill and around the bend, music. Not a band, not a radio, but a baby grand piano, in the middle of this beautiful green grass behind a white fence and in front of a beautiful farm house. There, in a tux, was a man playing a baby grand piano. The music seemed to sweep me off of my feet and my tempo picked up. What a treat.

Soon we were heading into town and everywhere, and I mean everywhere, people were out with their hoses and sprinklers holding them out to let us run through. This is something runners truly appreciate, by now the sun is up and shining bright and although the temperatures are cool, we are still hot, oh does that cold water feel good! You find misters on many courses but nothing like this, not this many, not people with their own hoses, their own sprinklers...cheering you on, welcoming you to their neck of the woods.

As we approach mile 20 the inevitable happens, my legs begin to feel heavy. This is how it happens in the marathon. Mile 20 to 23 is always the toughest, you are just plain worn out. My plan was to increase pace for that last 10K and so, legs heavy, but mind positive and thrilled my knee is feeling good, I slowly begin to run a little faster.

The euphoria speaks to my legs willing them to stay with it, keep going, soon the beer will flow. And they respond. At mile 23 I increase a bit more, just a little but enough to know it's an increase in pace.

The last mile I am oblivious to the pain in my legs and my feet. I am amazed that I am running faster in this last mile and then it's up and over the bridge. With the Clark Fork River flowing beneath me I see my family standing on the right of the course. I move over for a quick high five and run in with a smile on my face and a deep love for Missoula.

Oh the mountains they call me home...and there someday I shall be!