Denver Half Marathon Race Report

October 19, 2008

What do you get when you pair 5623 runners with about a hundred port-a-potties?

Really long lines.

That said, it’s about the only major executive-level complaint I have about the Denver Marathon. Then again, when you have a former Boston Marathon race director designing the course, it’s sort of expected that that level of organization is included with your race fee. The fact that there were nowhere near enough port-o-lets at the race’s start/finish to accommodate the runners was kind of a bummer. I don’t expect to find thousands of temporary toilets on the grounds of Civic Center Park, but surely a few more wouldn’t have hurt.

We were pretty much left to fend for ourselves on the course, as well, although since it toured through several parks in greater downtown Denver, there were a few more toilets available around the course…but there were very few. Outside of port-a-johns, you could head into a local business along the route and hope for sympathy.

How did my race report get so toilet-centered? Well, to say my digestion was suffering on race day would be the understatement of the millennium. My stomach was so bad that I couldn’t even imagine starting without going to the bathroom; when the starting gun went off and the lines for the toilet disappeared, I stood my ground and fled into the next open toilet. I’m not used to this. My digestion has been one thing I’ve always had going for me: races, training runs, whatever, my stomach has never been an issue before. That morning, however, my tummy was NOT having it. As a result, I started running about ten minutes late…and departed the start line just ahead of the sweeper truck.

OK, so, that aside…Colorado in autumn is absolutely gorgeous, for the most part. There’s a chance you can get bogged down in snow, but it’s pretty slim, and on October 19, Colorado’s fall spectacular was on display. I ran the Denver Marathon under crystal-clear skies and warming temps as the sun came up to illuminate the gorgeous fall colors: aspen and oak and crab apple and mulberry trees all in the midst of their annual showcase in brilliant golds and oranges and reds and yellows. I feel extraordinarily blessed to call this part of the world home, especially at this time of year.

The entire course is paved, and ran through sections of LoDo and downtown Denver, including Coors Field, the newly redesigned Denver Art Museum, City Park and Cheesman Park, along with scads of beautiful older-Denver neighborhoods. The race started and finished at Civic Center Park, near the state Capitol building. Both races follow the same course; the marathon course splits off and weaves through several other historic areas and a couple of extra parks, then loops back and rejoins the main course about a mile before the finish. Finishers were directed by ever-helpful and friendly race volunteers and personnel into separate chutes for the half- and full-marathon, and the reception at the finish was phenomenal: to already be running a gorgeous course on a beautiful day just feels fantastic; to feel so beloved by the hundreds of cheering fans at the finish, especially those already-finished runners who stick around to cheer for us back-of-the-packers.

The course was well-stocked with Gatorade and water, and surprisingly not quite as well-stocked for nutrition otherwise. Personally, I didn’t mind the single aid station offering Clif Shots—I can’t stand gels and pack my own sustenance—at mile 7, and for a half-marathon, you really can get away with very little if any nutritional complements, but looking at the course map I only saw one other aid station for Clif Shots, at mile 17. Perhaps less nutrition is better, but it seemed kind of lacking to me. Since I didn’t run the full, however, I’m in no place to comment: volunteers often bring their own snacks and generously share them with dogged marathoners, a courtesy I have always appreciated.

Speaking of volunteers…the volunteers for the race were exceptional, as usual, and cheered and enthused and encouraged us all on, even me, barely ahead of the race-walkers. The awesome attitude and charm of race volunteers and spectators never fails to amaze me; I think the sidelines at any road race are possibly the best evidence for the social and supportive nature of humans available. Runners are crazy: we get up at absurd hours and then go exert ourselves for an extended amount of time, so that we can cross that finish line, beat that PR, get that metal trinket handed out at the finish and then mill around with a bunch of fellow crazy, sweaty people afterwards to chow down on bagels, burritos, bananas and beer (alliteration unintentional, but amusing). But what of the people who aren’t running, who show up to support us, to hand us water and Gatorade, to sweep up millions of little paper cups and cheer us on and take our pictures and carry our crap for us? I can really only offer my enormous gratitude and thanks to every spectator and volunteer present, not the least of which goes out to my awesome boyfriend/sherpa/personal photographer/cheerleader/sideline therapist/motivator Jeremy.

The police presence was commendable as well. Having to blockade substantial areas of main streets and neighborhoods can’t be easy, but they not only assisted the runners wholeheartedly, they would smile and nod or cheer us on as well. What a great feeling. I’m sure that closing roads for this race seemed like small potatoes to them after hosting the Democratic National Convention, but I still really appreciate their candor and cheery attitude.

While the course is “relatively flat” there are some hillier sections that made me really thankful for being residentially acclimated to life at 5000 feet. I’d recommend getting here a few days in advance, if possible, so as not to be stymied by the less-than-flat sections, if coming from sea level to run this race. It’s nowhere near as hilly at the Boulder Marathon but still might warrant acclimatization for runners from sea level. It’s much easier to haul up those hills without feeling like you’re breathing through a straw.

Miscellany: McDonald’s was a title sponsor, which simultaneously doesn’t surprise me and makes me cringe. Nothing like America’s greatest championer of obesity promoting an athletic event. There was a huge Team In Training presence, which I always enjoy seeing and am starting to think hard about joining, or at least running a race or two with; I really admire this organization. Finally, there was a woman at mile four holding a McCain/Palin sign. OK, the political situation was driving most of us crazy to begin with, and escaping it through running doesn’t work anymore as myriad lawn signs are posted everywhere. I don’t need anyone else’s political assertions injected into my race as well. Granted, it was more of a run than a race for me, but I still think it was annoying, at best. I was there to run, not evaluate my political conscience…apparently a $102 race fee can’t get you away from the die-hards.

Speaking of what that $102 fee included…the race packets were pretty pathetic: lots of shiny advertisements, a beverage that couldn’t possibly pass muster as a sport drink, and a cotton t-shirt. Because we runners love to wear cotton so much. I really think there oughta be some sort of universal stipulation for giving race participants synthetic race shirts. The finishing medals were really nice though; you kind of felt like an Olympian considering the heft and size of the things.

All in all it was a beautiful race that gives a nice scope of Denver for out-of-state entrants, and a great reminder for us residents of the wealth of awesome running routes we enjoy year-round. If you’re considering a Mile High marathon, I strongly endorse this one.

http://www.denvermarathon.com