27/50 - 3 Bridges Marathon

As satisfied and as exhausted as I claimed to be in the previous Las Vegas post, I just had to add one more marathon this year. Seeing this 50 state sub-3-hour marathon goal taking more time than I have patience for and fearing what age will do to my ability to continue to run sub-3-hour marathons, I negotiated to start running some of these states without the company of The Wife. With three small children, these trips have become logistically more difficult to arrange.

So with two weeks before the 3 Bridges Marathon in Little Rock, AR, I registered. There were a few reasons I chose Arkansas, one of them having to do with the recent untimely death of our beloved dog, Dixie. Dixie, who loved to join me for runs, was born in and rescued from a farm in Arkansas. I was going to bring her back to her birthplace for one last run with me. The morning I left home, I collected Dixie's cremated remains - a small dusting of which I scattered under the sock liner of each shoe I was wearing for the race. I needed a good cathartic experience and ultimately I got that and more.

Dixie bringing my running shoes to her bed one last time.

Little Rock could not have been easier to navigate. It's a cool midsize city that is separated from North Little Rock, an up-and-coming area, by the Arkansas River. Lucky for me, craft beer has been making a splash in these cities and lucky for those cities, I like craft beer. After arriving the evening before the race, I went down the street from my hotel and bellied up to the bar at Lost Forty Brewery. Of all the breweries I ended up at this weekend, my two visits here were no accident: this place has great food and beer. My pre-race rituals are pretty minimal and I don't really have a specific must-eat food item. Here, I settled on a fantastic spicy shrimp gumbo and a few coffee stouts. I can almost hear your collective groans from the thought of what that outcome might yield. 

Pre-race dinner of champions... Or iron stomachs.

I hadn't gotten anything for breakfast the night before which provided a bit of a scare in the morning. On the drive over to the race, I couldn't find a gas station open to grab breakfast. With 30 minutes until race start, I stumbled upon one, grabbed a ham and cheese sandwich, and literally finished it 5 minutes before the start. If there was a race plan going into this, I certainly wasn't adhering to it.

I like these style of marathons. The field was about 400 runners, all full marathon distance. Little Rock has a great running community, evident by all the support along the course and the vast trail system we ran on along and around the Arkansas River. The race gets its name from the three bridges the course crosses over, two times each. On a mostly flat course, these 6 bridge crossings added just enough variation to keep things interesting. 

From the start, there were three of us in the lead: Me, a guy from Chicago, and the guy wearing bib #1, who turned out to be a local running hero as evidenced by all the cheers for him along the route. After 13 miles, our Chicago friend fell off while Mark (the local runner) and I continued along, chatting away as if this were a training run among friends. I came to find out that we both recently set PRs; his being 4 minutes faster than mine. My only strategy was to keep him talking, thinking that would wear him out early. He had speed but I had experience! I assumed this was going to be his race, but I was also there to do something special in memory of Dixie and if the opportunity presented itself, I wouldn't mind winning the race. 

At mile 17.5, just as we crested the Big Dam Bridge, I pulled away. As I ran past the start/finish line at mile 19.5, the announcer was a bit confused that Mark wasn't in the lead anymore. In fact, he referred to me at that point as Mark and I could hear him refer to Mark as Mike Brunette moments later. Soon, he fumbled through an amendment to his mistake which I could hear as I crossed the next pedestrian bridge. Looking back, Mark was no longer giving chase. These next 7 miles were going to be the catharsis I needed.

I imagined her running along side me one last time. Pulling me as she usually did when I needed it. Letting her off the leash to zig zag in front of me; chasing whatever animal caught her attention. I began to realize just how cool it was going to be that I was about to win this marathon with her when a wave of emotion swept over me and I began to cry. Then I took a wrong turn that cost me about 20 seconds. The course wasn't very clearly marked and there was no lead bike. 

As I came across the last bridge and into the finish line I was again robbed of breaking the winner's tape, since there was none. For my efforts, I was given what looks like a really big belt buckle commemorating my win with a time of 2:53:02 for what I'm referring to as marathon #forty-won. The guy from Chicago, the next finisher, was 5 minutes behind me. 

This award is the size of a dinner plate.

My celebration would continue throughout the weekend with a visit to every brewery I could find starting back at Lost Forty then onto Diamond Bear to Stone's Throw to Fly Way to Vino's. If you find yourself here on a Sunday, remember this is the heart of the Bible Belt - there are not a lot of stores open on Sunday; thankfully, the breweries do not follow suit. Bill Clinton's legacy permeates Arkansas; I spent some time exploring his presidential library. All the while, there was a familiar and beautiful feeling; she was with me. I held her close to me this weekend and I'm thankful for the opportunity. I enjoyed one last beer out on a quiet road sitting on top of a deserted railcar just outside of the airport.

I had a great year of running: 6 marathons under 3 hours (HI - 2:53, MO - 2:53, NE - 2:54, IL - 2:48, NV - 2:59, AR - 2:53) and finished my first 50-mile race in 9th place. I have less than 100 miles to run to reach 3,000 miles this year. I finished 2015 the way I started it back in Hawaii: winning! 

Award ceremony for that-guy-that's-not-the-guy-they-were-expecting.