Race Report: 2025 Mesa Marathon and Grand Canyon

On February 8, I ran the Mesa Marathon.  Deb and I built a vacation around this race, so we could go to the Grand Canyon afterwards.

Friday, February 7

We flew to Phoenix on Friday, arriving around noon.  Before going to our hotel, we stopped for lunch at a diner near the airport.  Then we went to our hotel, which was in Tempe.  Our hotel was about six miles from where the race finishes.  There were closer hotels, but they were already booked.

After dropping Deb off at the hotel, I went to the expo, which was at the Mesa Convention Center.  It was a larger expo than I thought, with vendors both inside and outside the building.  While I was there, I bumped into two friends.

Deb and I were both tired from waking up too early, and I needed to be up early again on Saturday.  Instead of going out for dinner, we had an early dinner at the hotel and got to sleep as early as we could.

Saturday, February 8

Saturday was race day.  The course was point-to-point, so I needed to park near the finish area and take a bus to the start.  We could catch a bus any time from 4:00 to 5:15 AM.  I got there at 3:45, because I didn’t know how quickly the parking lots would fill up.

When I arrived, the parking lot was almost empty, so I got one of the closest spots.  Fifteen minutes later, the lot was full.

I waited in my car until 4:00.  Then I made a bathroom stop before getting in line to board a bus.

It took about 45 minutes to get to the start area, which was up in the hills to the northeast of the city.  When we arrived, we still had an hour and a half before the race.  I was pleasantly surprised to find out that the buses would stay there, so we didn’t have to wait outside.

As it turns out, waiting outside wouldn’t be too bad.  It wasn’t as cold as I was expecting, and there were rows of space heaters set up in the start area, near the port-o-potties.

Several members of the 50sub4 Marathon Club were at this race, and we were planning on having a group photo near the bag check at 5:45.  I went there and waited for about 10 minutes, but I didn’t see any other members of the club.  I think the others were on later buses and didn’t arrive in time for the photo.  I eventually checked my gear bag and then got into a port-o-potty line.  By now, the lines were getting long.

I was expecting it to be colder in the start area, so I started the race wearing tights.  I was willing to risk getting too hot in the late miles of the race.  As it turns out, I probably would’ve been OK in shorts.

My last race gave me a lot of confidence that I’m ready to pick up where I left off last fall, when I was consistently running times in the 3:40s.  In Marrakech, I had multiple reasons to have low expectations, but I ran 3:48:24 on a flat course.  This course descends almost 1,000 feet, so I expected to be faster.

They had pace groups.  At first, I lined up in front of the 3:50 group.  Then I noticed a 3:45 group, so I moved forward to line up next to them.  That seemed like a reasonable goal for me, but I wasn’t actually planning to run with the group.  The early miles are downhill, and when I’m running downhill, I need to go at whatever pace feels natural.

When the race started, I followed the 3:45 group for about a minute.  That was enough time to get a sense of the pace.  Then I went ahead on my own.

The sun was still below the horizon, but there was enough light to see the road.  Looking ahead, I could see the lights of the city in the distance.

The first mile was noticeably downhill.  It was the easiest mile on the course, and I ran that mile in 8:02.  My target pace was 8:35, but I wasn’t surprised that I started fast.  I was OK with that as long as it didn’t feel like I was putting too much effort into it.

The first time we turned onto a different road, I immediately noticed reflectors where there were lines separating the lanes.  After that, I was careful to stay away from the lane lines.  Last year, I tripped on a reflector and had a hard fall.

The next three miles were also downhill, with the exception of one very brief uphill tick at the end of the second mile.  Those three miles weren’t as fast as the first mile, but they were still much faster than my target pace.

Right at the four-mile mark, the road turned uphill.  The first half of the course is mostly downhill, but it’s slightly uphill from four to six miles.

On the uphill section, I paid careful attention to how hard I weas working.  I allowed myself to slow down enough that my effort still felt sustainable.  Even at a slower pace, I started to warm up.  I had been wearing gloves, but I took them off during this section.

Most of the other runners were passing me now.  I didn’t worry about that.  My only concern on this section was to get through it without wearing myself out.

The next time I reached an aid station, I had trouble getting through all the other runners to get over to the table to get a cup of Gatorade.  As I was delayed at the aid station, I saw a pace group go by.  It was the 3:45 group.  I had started much faster than their target pace, so I was surprised to see that they had been right behind me all along.

If I had been on a flat or downhill section, I probably would’ve picked up my pace to stay with the group.  After all, their target time was also my goal.  I didn’t want to expend too much energy running uphill, so I let them go.  By the time we reached the end of this uphill section, I could barely see them in the distance.

Mile five was my slowest mile of the race, but it was also the only mile that was entirely uphill.  By the end of mile six, the road had already turned downhill again.  That mile was slower than the pace I wanted to average, but it wasn’t as slow as the previous mile.

After that, I picked up my pace again.  Mile seven was all downhill, and it was almost as fast as mile one.

Around eight miles, we made a sharp right turn, and the road leveled off for a while.  After that, the trend was still downhill, but some miles were more level than others.  Through these miles, my pace varied, but it never got slower than my target pace of 8:35.

The course was well-marked.  I especially liked that they had signs letting us know when we were approaching a turn.  About a quarter mile before the turn, there would be a sign saying “Turn Right” or “Turn Left.”  Knowing when a turn was coming up made it easy to pick the most direct line.

My neck was feeling stiff.  I’m not sure if running downhill affected my posture, but I couldn’t seem to move my head and neck in any way to alleviate the stiffness.  I had to live with that discomfort for the rest of the race.

At about nine miles, we reached the suburbs of Phoenix.  Then we started to see spectators and motivational signs.

By now, I was feeling the sun for first time.  We didn’t have any direct sunlight until the sun was high enough in the sky to be shining over the mountains.  After that, there wasn’t much shade.

I occasionally asked myself how I felt, in comparison to my last race, which was two weeks ago.  After 10 miles, I no longer felt fresh.  I was starting to feel like I was working.  I didn’t feel like I was working as hard as I was two weeks ago.  That was reassuring.

I reached the halfway mark in 1:51:29.  I knew the second half would be slower.  The first half was the easy half, as it was mostly downhill.  The second half was much more level.  There was still a slight downhill trend, but the second half of the course looked and felt flat.

Again, I asked myself how I felt, in comparison to my last race.  In that race, it seemed like it took more and more effort to run the same pace from about 14 miles on.  This time, I still felt like I was doing OK.

I started to pick out the runners who looked the strongest.  I challenged myself to keep up with two runners who were starting to pass everyone else.  It took a little extra effort, but I could do it.  In miles 14 and 15, I sped up to a pace in the low 8:20s.  At this point, I would’ve been happy just to keep my pace in the 8:30s for the rest of the race.

In the next mile, I spotted the 3:45 group ahead of me.  I picked up my effort to see if I could catch up with them.  Once I caught up, I could just run with them for the rest of the race.  I ran with them for a minute or two, but then I got ahead of them.  That was probably a mistake.

As I went ahead on my own, I reached the 16-mile mark.  I ran that mile in 8:11.  I knew I would probably regret that later.

In the next mile, I eased up a bit.  I was no longer trying to keep up with the fastest runners near me.  Now, I was just keeping up with a majority of the runners around me.  I slowed to 8:28, but my effort now seemed like it would be sustainable for the rest of the race.

Earlier, when I was catching up to the 3:45 group, I moved ahead of the two runners I had been trying to keep up with.  By the end of the 17th mile, one of them had moved ahead of me again.  Against my better judgement, I picked up my effort enough to keep pace.  That mile was only a few seconds faster than the previous one, but my effort no longer felt like it was sustainable.  I had to back off again.

In mile 19, I slowed to 8:37.  That was slower than my target pace, but it was close enough.  If I could keep up that pace for the rest of the race, I would have a fast time.

In the next mile, we turned, and I suddenly noticed a nice cool breeze.  The temperature had warmed into the 60s, and it was sunny.  I had dressed for cold temperatures at the start, so I was now overdressed.  Until now, I didn’t even realize that I was getting hot.  The breeze would keep me cool until the next turn.

My pace in mile 20 was similar to mile 19.  Then the 3:45 group passed me again.  I tried to pick up my pace to keep up with them, but I could only do it for a few minutes.  Then I had to let them go.

At first, that was discouraging.  I couldn’t help but wonder if I would’ve been able to stay with the group if I hadn’t gone ahead of them four miles earlier.  Then I did the math and realized they must be at least two minutes ahead of their target pace.  On the previous 20 miles, I had been faster than their target pace in 16 miles and slower in only four.  Of those, two were only a few seconds slower.  I knew my average pace was much faster than their target pace.  They had to be going too fast.  If I could keep up my current pace, I would still break 3:45.  I didn’t have to keep up with the group.

I kept up the same pace for one more mile, but it seemed to take more effort.  I asked myself how I felt in comparison to my last race.  In that race, I was struggling badly by this point.  Although I was getting tired, I didn’t feel like I was coming completely unglued.  Also, my average pace was much faster in this race.  I liked the comparison.

In mile 22, I slowed to 8:45.  I no longer felt like I could keep up the same effort.  Even if I could, the same effort no longer translated to the same pace.

Even at this pace, I would still break 3:45, but I expected to keep slowing down.  Sure enough, in mile 23, I slowed to 9:01.

Now, I was no longer sure that I was still going fast enough to break 3:45.  It seemed like I was giving up too much time.  That last mile was 26 seconds slower than my target pace, and I still had 3.2 miles to go.

Again, I thought back to how I felt at the same point in the race two weeks ago.  In that race, I felt much worse, yet I managed to keep my pace under nine minutes per mile in those last three miles.

I tried to pick up my pace, but the next mile was five seconds slower.  I had trouble motivating myself to dig deep and fight for it.  I didn’t realize it yet, but I was suffering from the rising temperature.  I was overdressed, and I was paying for that.

There was a half marathon that followed the second half of the marathon route.  With two miles to go, I started to pass people who were near the back of the pack of the half marathon.  I heard a familiar voice ask. “Is that David Holmen?”  I yelled, “Yes!”  It was my friend Natalie, who was doing the half marathon.

My pace stabilized in mile 25, but I had no idea how I would finish.  I had been paying attention to my splits, but I never remembered to look at my total time.

In addition to the mile markers for the marathon, I was also seeing mile markers for the half marathon.  When I got to their “12” sign, I checked my time.  It was 3:35:01.  If I could run the last 1.1 miles in 9:58, I would still beat 3:45.  At the pace of my most recent two miles, I would do it, but it would be close.

That gave me the motivation I needed.  I finally summoned up the strength to pick up my pace.  I ran harder the rest of the way.

In the last mile, I saw that the road was going to turn downhill, but only briefly.  That last little downhill started as we crossed a street called “Longmore.”  I didn’t like that name.  I didn’t want the rest of the race to be long, and I didn’t want more.

As I got closer to the finish, I saw that I was catching up to the 3:45 group again.  At this point, it was just the 3:45 pace leader.  The rest of his group had gone ahead.  My previous assessment was correct.  He was going too fast for most of the race.  Then he slowed down in the last mile.

In mile 26, I did indeed speed up.  I ran it in 8:46.  There was still one more turn, but looking to my right, I could see the finish line arch.

On the final approach to the line, I was chasing the 3:45 pacer.  I didn’t catch him, but I did break 3:45.  I finished in 3:44:40.

Moments after crossing the line, I suddenly realized how hot I was.  I was sweating profusely.  I felt sweaty in spite of the dry desert air.

Volunteers were handing out large cans of water in the finish area.  I don’t normally drink more water right after finishing, but this time I really needed it.

The finisher medal was in the shape of Arizona.  There’s a small spinner in the center.  The other side of the spinner depicts a cactus.

I stopped for a while to talk to friends just a short distance from the finish line.  Eventually, I continued moving through the finish area.

At the results tent, I found out that anyone who qualified for Boston in this race got a luggage tag.  It’s always nice to get extras like that.

I went over to the gear retrieval area with my friend, Eliot.  The volunteers found my bag easily, but they couldn’t find Eliot’s bag.  It wasn’t where it was supposed to be.  Eliot spent more than an hour looking for his bag, without getting much help from the volunteers.  He eventually got his bag, but he wasn’t too happy with the volunteers.

That was the only blemish on what was otherwise a well-organized race.  In all the other areas, the volunteers were great.

Finish line food included an ice cream bar, a banana, a protein bar, and beer.  I ate most of the food and had my free post-race beer.  I saved the protein bar for later.

While I was in the finish area, I saw at least 10 friends.  Some had finished before me.  Others finished while I was still in the beer garden. When Eliot joined us, we took a 50sub4 post-race pic with the club members who were in the beer garden.

I ended up staying in the finish area for almost two hours before finally driving back to the hotel.  Deb had a nice breakfast at the hotel, but she was hungry for lunch by the time I got back.  I took a quick shower, and then we went to lunch.

My race packet included a coupon for a free doughnut at Voodoo Doughnuts.  We stopped there on our way back from lunch.  I saved my doughnut for later.  We also stopped at Wal-Mart to get some nasal spray to help cope with the dry air.

Neither of us had the energy to go back out again.  We spent the rest of the afternoon relaxing at the hotel.  Our dinner was a combination of happy hour snacks and other foods that we already had.

Sunday, February 9

We checked out of our hotel in Tempe and drove up to the south rim of the Grand Canyon.  It’s a four-hour drive, so we didn’t get there until the afternoon.

After a brief stop at the visitor center, we walked out to Mather Point for our first view of the canyon.

We stayed at a lodge in Grand Canyon Village.  When we checked in, Deb mentioned that this was her first visit to the Grand Canyon, and they gave us a free upgrade to a room with a canyon view.

After we unpacked, Deb checked out one of the shops while I went for a short run.

The elevation at south rim is 7,000 feet, so I expected my run to be more tiring than usual.  I was still surprised to be intensely out of breath in the first mile.  I forced myself to keep running for two miles before turning around to head back to the lodge.  As soon as I turned around, it got easier.  It turns out that the first half of my run was uphill.

We had dinner at a restaurant in the adjacent building.  After dinner, we went outside to see the evening view of the canyon from behind the lodge.

Monday, February 10

We did most of our sightseeing on Monday.  After breakfast, we drove to several viewpoints to the west of the village.  Deb has a fear of heights, so at most of the viewpoints, Deb stayed near the car, while I hiked out to the farthest viewing point.  In the morning, the sun was shining from the east, so I could only get good pictures looking west through the canyon.

Here’s the view from Trail View Overlook:

This is the view from Powell Point:

Hopi Point:

Mohave Point:

Pima Point:

Out last stop going west was Hermit’s Rest.

There’s a curio shop at Hermit’s Rest, and we got there just before it opened, so we looked around the shop before heading back.

After driving back to the village, we headed east.  Again, we stopped at all the scenic overlooks that are accessible by car.  By now, the sun was higher in the sky.

Here’s the view from Pipe Creek Vista:

This is Duck on a Rock.

Grandview Point:

Moran Point:

Lipan Point:

Navajo Point:

Our last stop was Desert View, where there’s a market, a gift shop, the eastern visitor center, and a lookout tower.

The ground floor of the tower has floor to ceiling windows, so you can be indoors, yet get great views of the canyon.  This was a good viewing point for Deb.  She felt perfectly comfortable viewing the canyon through the windows.

There are stairs leading up to four higher levels.  Inside the next few levels there are examples of Native American artwork:

On the top level, there are more large windows.  Here are two of the views:

When we got back to Grand Canyon Village, Deb visited some of the shops, while I went for another run.  I ran the same out-and-back route, so I knew what to expect.  In the uphill direction, I was gasping for air.  Coming back, it felt more manageable.

When Deb was done at the shops, and I was cleaned up from my run, we walked over to the Lookout Studio behind the Bright Angel Lodge.  While Deb was looking around in the studio, I went out on the viewing platform.

Next, we drove to the Yavapai Geology Museum.  Here, you can see a relief map of the canyon and learn about the geology of the canyon.  It’s also another building with floor-to-ceiling windows where you can get good canyon views from indoors.

Our last stop of the afternoon was the park store, which is near the visitor center.  After that, we went back to the lodge to relax until dinner.

Tuesday, February 11

We weren’t flying home until Wednesday, but it was a morning flight, so we drove back to Phoenix on Tuesday.  We took a different route, so we got to see some different views as we drove through the mountains.

Neither of us slept well Monday night, so we were looking forward to getting a good night’s sleep Tuesday night.  When we checked into our hotel, our room was uncomfortably warm and the AC didn’t seem to be working.  When we called about it, we found out that the AC for the whole building had gone out that day.  We were assured it would be working in a few hours.

In the meantime, I found some trails near our hotel where I could go for a run.  Running in Phoenix was much easier than running in Grand Canyon Village.

Despite the promises of the hotel manager, the AC still wasn’t working after we ate dinner.  By then it was cool enough outside that we could start cooling the room down by opening the door to our balcony.  The room cooled down a few degrees, but it was still warmer than ideal when we went to bed.

We shut the balcony door before going to bed, so lights from outside wouldn’t keep us awake.  We assumed the AC would come on when it was fixed, but it never got fixed.  I slept for a few hours, but then I woke up and couldn’t get back to sleep again.  The room had warmed up again.

Wednesday, February 12

After spending most of the night lying awake in bed, I was a train wreck.  What had been a nice vacation ended on a sour note.

Race statistics:

Distance:  26.2 miles

Time:  3:44:40

Average Pace:  8:34 per mile

First Half:  1:51:29

Second Half:  1:53:11

Lifetime Marathons/Ultras:  538

Boston Qualifiers:  175

Race Report: 2025 Marrakech Marathon

On January 26, I ran Marrakech Marathon.  I’ve been interested in traveling to Marrakech, but I didn’t know enough about Morocco to be comfortable planning a solo trip.  Then I found out that Marathon Tours & Travel (MT&T) goes there.

I first saw this race on the MT&T race calendar for 2024, but I already had plans for that weekend.  I made it a priority to go there this year.

Thursday, January 23

I arrived in Paris on an overnight flight from Minneapolis.  I had a four-hour layover in Paris, but there were two other runners from Minnesota who were on the same two flights.  We spent the next three hours together in the Air France lounge before boarding our flight to Marrakech.

We arrived in Marrakech in the late afternoon.  As it turns out, there were dozens of runners in my tour group who arrived on the same flight from Paris.  Once everyone had their luggage and got through immigration and customs, we left together to go to our hotel.  MT&T arranged for our transportation.

Our group stayed at the Kenzi Farah Rose Garden, which is a five-star hotel near the old town.  After everyone had time to check in, we went for a three-mile shakeout run.  This was our first chance to see the neighborhood around our hotel.

We had a welcome reception in the evening at the hotel bar.  After the reception, I had dinner with my friend Gwen at an Italian restaurant at the hotel.  By the time we paid our bill, I was struggling to stay awake.

I had no trouble getting to sleep, but I couldn’t sleep through the night.  I woke up at midnight and it took me a few hours to get back to sleep.

Friday, January 24

We had a buffet breakfast at the hotel.  Besides our group, there were other large groups staying at the same hotel.  I made a point of getting to breakfast before it got too crowded.

The air was really dry.  I didn’t drink enough water the day I arrived, so I drank as much as possible with breakfast to get rehydrated.  That became a daily routine.

After breakfast, we had a half-day guided tour of the city.  They transported us by bus to the Koutoubia Mosque.  We started our tour with the mosque and its gardens.

From there, our tour was on foot.  There were 90 of us, so we split into four small groups. We walked through one of the main gates in the medina, which is the old town.  Then we visited the Saadian Tombs.

We walked by several small shops to get to the Bahia Palace, which includes numerous rooms and gardens.  We spent a fair amount of time there, but I only took one picture.  This room is part of the prime minister’s private chamber.

The rest of our tour took us through a large marketplace.  We navigated through a maze of narrow alleyways with dozens of small shops.

We made a stop at a local pharmaceutical shop, where we got to taste the Moroccan mint tea.  We also had an opportunity to buy various cosmetics.

As we made our way back through the market, we stopped at the main square, and we had some time to explore on our own.

We were going to be bused back to the hotel, but it was only about a mile away, so some of us just walked back rather than wait for the buses to arrive.

MT&T had already gone to the expo to pick up everyone’s race packets.  After getting back to the hotel, we could get our race packets in the hotel lobby.

A few of us had a late lunch on the terrace next to the hotel pool.  Then I went to the fitness room to do weight training before relaxing until dinner.

Our dinner was a Moroccan meal at Chez Ali, which is an entertainment venue on the outskirts of the city.  We were scheduled to leave at 7:00 PM, but nothing ever happens on time in Morocco.  We left about 20 minutes late.  With traffic, we didn’t arrive at Chez Ali until 8:00.

Our dinner was a four-course meal.  We had a choice of entrée.  Mine was a tagine dish with lamb, prunes, and almonds.  Between courses, various groups came into our tent to entertain us.

Dinner was going to be followed by a Moroccan folklore show, which included a parade, acrobats, and traditional songs and dances.

We didn’t finish dinner until 10:15.  I didn’t know long the show would be, but I didn’t expect to get back to the hotel any earlier than midnight.

I didn’t sleep at all Wednesday night, and I only slept half the night on Thursday, so getting back so late wasn’t ideal.

Somebody else asked one of the MT&T guides if it was possible to go back to the hotel early.  That was only possible if enough other people were interested.  We came in a motor coach and three large vans.  They would need to have enough people going home early to fill at least one of the vans.

One of the MT&T guys went from table to table to see how many people wanted to skip the show and go home early.  Of the 90 people on our tour, 31 were interested in going back right away.  I was one of them.  I’m sure it was a good show, but I desperately needed to get some sleep.

We got back to the hotel at 11:00.  It took me about an hour to get to sleep.  I slept better than the previous night, but I still didn’t get a full night’s sleep.

Saturday, January 25

I set an alarm for 8:30, just so I wouldn’t miss breakfast.  Noise from one of the other rooms woke me up much earlier, and I couldn’t get back to sleep.

I had a late breakfast.  One of the other runners in our group said the show was spectacular, but she didn’t get to sleep until 3 AM.  I’m sure I would’ve enjoyed the show, but I don’t regret going back early.

We didn’t have any planned activities until the afternoon, so I spent the rest of the morning with Gwen, walking through the same marketplace that was part of our tour on Friday.  Gwen was able to buy some Moroccan coffee, mint tea, and a tagine.

Our tour in the afternoon took us to three gardens.  The first was Parc Lalla Hasna.  We had seen this park on our first tour, and some of had walked through it on our way back from the marketplace.

Our second stop was Menara Gardens.  This park has thousands of olive trees and a central reservoir which provides water for irrigation,

We spent the majority of the afternoon at Le Jardin Secret (the secret garden).  The entrance to these gardens is a doorway in a narrow alleyway in the medina.  You could easily miss it if you didn’t know it was there.  This was by far the most interesting of all the gardens.

Our last stop was a place where we could ride camels.  We split into three groups, and each group formed a caravan of about 15 camels.

We got back just in time for our pre-race dinner.  It was a buffet that included pasta and also other entrees.

That night, I got to bed earlier.  For the first time during this trip, I slept well.

Sunday, January 26

Sunday was race day.  The marathon didn’t start until 8:30, so I was able to have a light breakfast at the hotel before walking to the start.

The starting line was a 10-minute walk from our hotel.  We met in the lobby at 8:00 to walk to the start together.  We crossed the first street, and about half of the group went around some barriers, so they could keep going straight.  Then the police moved the barriers, so nobody else could get through.

I found a way through on the other side of the street, but I don’t know if the rest of the group was able to follow me.  They could get to the start area another way, but we weren’t all able to go as a group.

On the way to the start area, I caught up with Gwen.  After we entered the start corral, we were reunited with Julie.  Julie wasn’t part of our tour group, but Gwen and I met her on our flights.

The temperature was in the upper 40s at the start, and I expected it to remain chilly for the first half of the race.  The sun had just risen, and it wouldn’t warm up much until the sun got higher in the sky.

In the second half of the race, I expected it to warm up rapidly, getting to 60 degrees by the time I finished.  I wore tights, because I would rather risk being hot in the second half than be cold for the first half of the race.

I wasn’t sure how fast I would run.  My only other race this year was a 48-hour race.  My previous three races were all marathons, but none of those races was conducive to running fast.  As a result, I haven’t tried for a fast time since early November.

For the last two months, I’ve been training in cold weather, so I’ve been wearing bulky clothes that slow me down.  I normally train at an easy pace, but all my recent training has been slower than normal.  That had me feeling unsure of my readiness for  running a fast race.

I had to start the race before I could evaluate what pace I could sustain.  At a minimum, I wanted to start the race on pace to break four hours.  Ideally, I wanted to start fast enough to break 3:50, which would be a Boston qualifier.  To do that, I would need to average about 8:45 per mile.

This is a large enough race that the start was congested, but it didn’t take long before I could run at my own pace.  I kept accelerating for the first kilometer.  By then, I started to feel like I might be going too fast.  I didn’t know for sure until my watch gave me my split for the first mile.  I ran that mile in 8:21.

I knew that pace wouldn’t be sustainable, so I eased up a little in the second mile.  That mile was 8:36.  That was still too fast, so I eased up some more.  By now, it seemed like 8:45 would be a sustainable pace, but I worried that anything faster might not be.

There were a lot of turns in the early miles.  At about two miles, we made a large U-turn and came back on the opposite side of a divided parkway.

As soon as we made that turn, I felt a breeze.  It---- was probably at our backs when we were on the other side of the road.  I hadn’t noticed any wind since arriving in Marrakech.  Having a breeze during the race meant I was less likely to feel overdressed in the second half of the race.

In the third mile, my pace slowed to 8:42.  That was pretty close to the pace I wanted to average.  Ideally, I would have settled into that pace now for the rest of the race.  That was easier said than done.  Because of my fast start, I was surrounded by people who had also started faster.

They had aid stations every five kilometers.  On the course map, the aid station locations were denoted by an image of a water bottle.  I couldn’t find any information indicating whether they would have other food or beverages.

At the 5K aid station, I just saw bottles of water.  I grabbed a bottle, took the cap off and drank about two thirds of it.  That was as much as I could drink at one time.  After drinking what I could, I tossed the bottle onto the sidewalk, so other runners wouldn’t be in danger of tripping on it.

In the next two miles, I started running too fast again.  I’d tell my self to slow down, but then I’d go back to running at the same pace as the people around me.  It wasn’t until the sixth mile that I had a mile that was slower than 8:45.

As I was approached 10K, I saw people who seemed to be assembling tables.  As I got closer, I realized they were tearing down the tables.  Those were the fluid tables for the elite athletes, and they were no longer needed at this point.  I was still surprised how quickly they were taken down.

At the 10K water station, I only drank half of my bottle.  That was as much as I could drink without slowing down to walk.

After slowing down to 8:53 in mile six, I picked up my effort.  I didn’t want my pace to get any slower than 8:45.  I evidently overcompensated, because I sped up to 8:11.  I settled down a little bit after that, but I kept running faster than I needed to.  I’m still surprised that I was able to run that fast without realizing it.

By now, we had left the older part of the city and were getting into the more modern parts of the city.  I recognized a mural that we had driven by on Friday, so I stopped briefly to take a picture.

When I finished that mile, I saw that I was slower than my target time of 8:45, but only by a few seconds.  If I hadn’t stopped to take a picture, my pace would’ve been just right.

At 15K, I took off my gloves.  My hands weren’t getting hot, but they no longer felt cold, and I knew it would start warming up soon.

In mile 10, I was back to running too fast.  I sped up to 8:21 in that mile.  I wasn’t trying to run that fast, but I kept falling into the trap of running with the pack, and the people around me were going that fast.

There’s a rule of thumb that if you don’t feel fresh after 10 miles, you’re going too fast.  I didn’t feel fresh.  I definitely felt like I was working to run at this pace.  On the other hand, I didn’t feel like the pace was taking a toll on me.  I felt about the same after 10 miles as I did in the first few miles.

In the 11th mile, we went through a roundabout that had an elaborate fountain in the center.  I was tempted to take a picture, but I didn’t want to lose time again.  As it turns out, I sped up to 8:18 in that mile.  If I had realized I was running that fast, I would’ve stopped to take the picture.  It would’ve help me to settle down.

A couple miles after taking off my gloves, my hands starting to feel cold.  I didn’t worry about it too much, because it would warm up about 10 degrees by the time I finished, and the sun would get higher in the sky.  The fact that I had cold hands this late in the race was encouraging.   I didn’t worry as much about being too hot later.

The first three aid stations only had water.  The aid station at 20K was the first pone where I saw food.  I saw bananas and other food, but I didn’t want to slow down long enough to eat anything.  I was in a good rhythm, and I didn’t want to do anything to disrupt that.

I run best when I can stay in a consistent rhythm.  This race has one of the flattest courses I’ve seen, and the whole route had nice smooth pavement.  I was surprised how comfortable I felt at the pace I was running, but this was an ideal course for me.

Halfway through the race, I was on pace in finish in about 3:44, but I expected to slow down in the section half.  My only goal at this point was to break 3:50.  That gave me some room to slow down in the second half, but I kept running with about the same effort.

After running miles 12 and 13 in 8:25, I ran the next two in 8:33 and 8:40.  I was still going faster than my target pace, but it was starting to take more effort with each mile, and I wondered if I would keep slowing down.

When I’m running on an unfamiliar course, I’ll sometimes think about where I would be if I was at the equivalent point on a course that’s familiar to me.  As I approached 25K, I though about where I would be at 25K of the Boston Marathon course.  That race is pretty easy for the first 16 miles, but you have to hold back or you’ll struggle when you reach the hills between 16 and 21.

In Boston, my goal is to reach the 16-mile mark feeling like I’ve been hold back.  I was only at 25K, and I was clearly working hard.  If I felt the same way at 25K on the Boston course, I’d be heading for a train wreck.  That was a wake-up call.

I regretted not having anything to eat at 20K, because I didn’t know if other aid stations would have food.  When I saw food at the 25K aid station, I decided I should eat something.  I didn’t see any bananas, but I grabbed a date and a handful of golden raisins.

Eating the date, I had to be careful to chew around the pit.  I was carrying a water bottle, but I didn’t start drinking until I was done eating the raisins.

Running with a water bottle while chewing raisins caused me to get out of breath.  It was starting to warm up now, so I should’ve had more to drink, but it was all I could do to drink half the bottle.

It took me a few minutes to catch my breath.  Then I gradually started to catch up with the runners who were near me before the aid station.

About half a mile later, we ran down a ramp to go under two bridges.  Then we had to come back up a ramp.  It was the only hill on the course, but at this point I needed to be careful not to work too hard.  Going up the ramp, I tried to maintain a consistent effort and not worry about my pace.  I ran that mile in 8:45 despite slowing down for the ramp.  I was satisfied with that.

Just after coming up the ramp, I saw runners merging in from the right.  There was a half marathon that started at 9:45.  They had a different course, but it overlapped with the marathon route in a few places.

The half marathon runners outnumbered the marathon runners by about ten to one.  I’m not sure how far they had run by this point, but it seemed like they had not spread out much.  The road was now filled with a wall of runners.

I quickly discovered that these runners weren’t going as fast as I was trying to run.  To stay on pace, I needed to work hard to get around the slower runners.

It was no longer possible to run the tangents.  Instead, I was weaving back and forth, always looking for a gap I could run through.  When I broke through one wall of runners, I would accelerate.  Then I’d have to figure out where to break through the next wall of runners.  I was like a running back who has to follow his blocks, only I didn’t have any blockers.

When I finished the next mile, I was pleasantly surprised to see that I actually sped up in that mile.  It took a lot of extra energy though.

I was still fighting my way through this horde of slower runners when I reached the 30K mark.  The aid station was total chaos.  I had to come to a stop before I could get through the other runners to get to one of the water tables.  Runners were grabbing bottles faster than the volunteers could unpack them.  I eventually got a water bottle, but it cost me some time.

That mile was slower than my target pace, but there was a good reason for it.  The next mile was equally slow, but now it was because I was getting tired.

At 20 miles, I finally reached a point where marathon runners went straight, but the half marathon runners turned right.  It was a relief to be out of the crowd.  Now I could follow other runners and know we were all doing the same race.  I could once again use the other runners to gauge my pace.

We did a short out-and-back.  Then we turned onto the same street where the half marathon had turned previously.

There were barriers in the middle of the street, but they were spaced about 100 feet apart.  I think they were supposed to be connected with caution tape, but the tape was missing.

It was obvious to me that the marathon runners were supposed to stay on the left side of the street, and the half marathon runners were supposed to stay on the right.  There was nothing to prevent runners from crossing over, and most of the runners moved over to the left side of the street.  That was frustrating.

This street was wide enough that I could easily get around the slower runners.  Unfortunately, I didn’t know which runners were doing the marathon.  I couldn’t gauge my pace according to the other runners without knowing if they were doing the marathon.

Occasionally, I would pass a runner who I remembered passing before.  I had run an out-and-back that they didn’t have to run, so they all got ahead of me again.

I was struggling to keep up my pace, but I no longer needed to average 8:45.  After 22 miles, I calculated that I could slow down to roughly 9:30, and I would still finish in 3:50.  That’s all I cared about.

The two races diverged again.  We turned to the left, and the runners doing the half marathon turned to the right.  In theory, I could once again stay on pace just by following the runners in front of me.  In practice, the wheels were coming off.  The pace I had been running for most of the race was too fast, and it was catching up to me.  The extra effort I put into weaving around slower runners didn’t help.  My legs now felt like lead.

I reached the 35K sign, but the aid station was farther down the street.  Before I got there, my watch gave me my time for mile 22.  I slowed to 8:58.  That was my slowest mile so far, but I viewed anything faster than 9:30 as extra time in the bank.  With 4.2 miles to go, I just needed to average 9:37.

The aid station had bananas.  They were cut in half, but I needed to remove the peel.  As I pulled back the peel, the banana squirted out.  It popped up in the air.  I couldn’t catch it, but I kept it from hitting the ground by deflecting it onto the table.  I don’t know how clean the table was, but it was a lot cleaner than the street.  I still ate the banana.  Then I slowed to a walk while drinking some water.

When I looked at the course map before the race, I saw aid stations every 5K, up to 35K.  I didn’t see an aid station at 40K.  As far as I knew, this was the last aid station, so I drank as much as I could stomach.  Then I forced myself to run again.

When I finished the next mile, I saw that I had slowed to 9:35.  That made me panic.  I couldn’t afford to slow down much more.  I momentarily forgot that I had lost a lot of time at the aid station.

I could no longer count on the runners ahead of me to keep a consistent pace.  Most were slowing down.  Some were walking.  I spotted a runner who looked like he was still going strong, and I challenged myself to keep up with him.  Then I passed him.  Then I looked for another runner to chase.

In October I bought a new running watch.  My old watch displayed my current pace, but it never seemed to be accurate, so I didn’t trust it.  I didn’t know how fast I was going, so I looked at my watch.  I saw my current pace, but the readout was tiny.  My watch said my current pace was 8:45.  If that was accurate, it was encouraging.  That gave me the motivation I needed to keep up my effort.

For the next mile, I moved up through the field.  Then we merged with the half marathon again.  I continued to focus on the same two runners I had been following.  One was a guy wearing a red shirt.  The other was a woman with a pink shirt and a camelback.  I ignored everyone else, knowing that most of the other runners were doing the half marathon.

When I finished mile 24, I saw that I had sped up to 8:43.  To break 3:50, I needed to run the last 2.2 miles in 23 minutes.  I could afford to slack off, but I didn’t want to get lazy.  I did my best to keep chasing those same two runners.

In the second-to last mile, I went through a roundabout and saw cars going through it.                   Often, in races with traffic control, the police will let a few cars though when there’s a large gap between runners.  Here, it seemed like too many cars were going through.  I continued to run through the roundabout, even though cars were entering from another direction.

It wasn’t until later in the day that I learned from other runners that the roads were opened to traffic long before the race was over.  I only encountered cars at the last roundabout, but the slowest runners were sharing the road with cars for the last two hours of the race.  These weren’t quiet residential streets.  The course was on streets that are normally busy.

When I reached the 40K sign, I didn’t see an aid station.  Then I turned a corner, and my watch recorded my split for mile 25.  I slowed to 8:54 in that mile, but that was still much faster than the pace I needed.

A little farther up the road, I saw water tables on the left.  The guy in the red shirt stopped to grab a bottle, so I figured I could too.  He resumed running while I was still drinking.  After that, I couldn’t keep up with him.  All I could do is to try to keep him in sight.

I had already been out of breath for the last two miles.  I’ve never felt like this in the late miles of as marathon.  I might be fatigued or have sore legs, but it’s not normal to be out of breath in a race as long as a marathon.  I felt like I was running a 10K race.

I wanted to give my maximum effort, but I could no longer force myself to do it.  I did my best to limit the damage, and I only slowed to 9:11 in that mile.

The last turn was in front of the Menara Mall.  We had driven by there on at least one of our tours, so I had a good idea where I was.

After turning the corner, I saw the first of several balloon arches.  I remember seeing at least two other arches at the beginning of the race after crossing the starting line.  Now, I was about to go back through them.  I was expecting the finish line to be under the third arch.

As I ran under the first arch, I looked ahead for the digital clock at the finish line.  I could see now that there were more arches than I remembered.  It now looked like I had to run to the fourth arch.  Then I saw another … then another.  There were six or seven other balloon arches before the finish line.

I knew I was going to break 3:50, but I had to run farther than I expected.  With two arches to go, I finally summoned up the strength to put on a strong finish.  I crossed the line in 3:48:24.

Immediately after finishing, I started to feel light-headed.  Fortunately, that feeling passed quickly.  I continued to move forward, but I couldn’t get far before I encountered a wall of runners who weren’t moving.  They were packed in like sardines from one side of the street to the other.  The start/finish area was fenced off, so there was no place to go but forward.

I never felt too hot during the race, but with hundreds of runners packed in around me, I quickly got hot and sweaty.  I was uncomfortable, but there was nothing I could do about it.

For the longest time, nobody in front of me was moving forward.  Gwen had told me before the race that she was going to stay and watch for me after she finished.  I sent her a text to let her know I had finished.  Then I got a text from Gwen saying she was still in the crowd of runners in front of me, even though she had finished much earlier.

Eventually, the crowd started moving forward, but only at a snail’s pace.  It wasn’t until I was almost to the last balloon arch in the start/finish area that I saw the problem.  There were only a few narrow openings for us to squeeze through.  In between, there were tables with volunteers handing out food bags.  It was like six lanes of traffic having to merge down to two lanes.  It was a bottleneck.

I eventually got through and got my food bag and finisher medal.  By the time I got out to the street, 36 minutes had elapsed since I finished the race.

The food bag contained a bottle of water, a banana, two oranges, and a package with dates and raisins.  I ate the banana and drank half of the water while walking back to the hotel.  I ate the rest of the food when I got back to my room.

After showering and changing into clean clothes, I relaxed in my room until I started to get hungry again.  Then I went down to the pool bar to have a late lunch.

While I was eating, I saw other runners I knew, and we shared our race experiences.  I learned that the race ran out of medals, so many of the runners who finished later didn’t get one.  That’s also when I learned that the streets were opened up to traffic.

My own race experience was mostly positive until I crossed the finish line.  The post-race experience was bad for me and worse for others.

I spent the rest of the afternoon with other runners in the pool area.  Then I went to a post-race celebration with all the runners in our tour group.

Many of the runners weren’t showing up in the race results.  When I looked up my bib number, it didn’t initially show any result.  MT&T made a list of all the runners who either didn’t get a medal or didn’t get listed in the results.  I’m confident they’ll make sure everyone gets a medal and an official result.

I was one of the last runners to leave the party.  By then everyone else had already made dinner plans.  Despite having a late lunch, I still needed to have something to eat before going to bed.  I eventually had dinner by myself at an Italian restaurant at the hotel.

I’m happy to say that I slept well for the second straight night.

Monday, January 27

MT&T had an option for a four-day extension to see more of Morocco, but I didn’t want this to be too long of a trip.  Instead, I flew home.

I didn’t have a lot of options for flights.  I could wake up in the middle of the night for an early morning flight, or I could take a late afternoon flight and have an overnight connection in Paris.  I chose the afternoon flight.  That allowed me to get a full night’s sleep and have one last breakfast with the other runners.

Many of the runners either left early or had booked other excursions.  At breakfast, I saw two runners I knew, and I met two others.  We had done many of the same races, so we talked for almost three hours.

After breakfast, I had just enough time to do a workout and finish packing before I needed to check out.  I checked out before noon, but I didn’t need to leave for the airport until 1:30, so I continued visiting with other runners who were in the lobby.

One of the topics that came up was the problems with results.  I looked up my result again.  They now showed a time for my bib number which matched the time on my watch.  There wasn’t any name associated with my bib number.

That was a common problem.  In the participant list, there were numerous bib numbers that weren’t associates with any name.  Mine was one of them.  My best guess is that it was a data entry error associated with runners who were registered by a tour group.  I talked to a runner who registered himself, and his result was fine.  If that’s the only problem, I’m sure MT&T can get it straightened out.

I got to the airport about two and a half hours before my flight to Paris.  Check in, security, and passport control were all quick, so I had time to relax and eat an early dinner in an airport lounge.

In Paris, I spent the night at an airport hotel.  I was leaving the terminal, so I had to go through passport control for entering the Schengen zone.  After that, getting to my hotel was fairly easy.  I took an automated train from Terminal 2 to Terminal 3.  From the terminal 3 stop, I only had to walk a quarter mile to get to my hotel.  I got there around 9:00.

When I got to my room, it was a little too warm.  I set the thermostat and went down to the lounge to have a beer while I waited got the room to cool down.  When I got back to my room, I was disappointed to find that it had only cooled down by one degree.  I was so tired that I crashed hard anyway.

Tuesday, January 28

My flight wasn’t until 10:30, so I had time to eat breakfast before going back to the airport.  I’ve made connections at CDG before, but this was the first time I’ve departed from this airport.  It’s a large airport, and it can be confusing, but I found it to be a breeze.  There were airport employees in various places scanning boarding passes and directing people to the right gate area or the best security line.

Flying home from Europe is always a long travel day, but it helps that I got a good night’s sleep, and I only have one flight today.

UPDATE: I checked the results again on Tuesday, and my result now shows up correctly.  I also checked the results of some of the other runners, and their results are there too.

Race statistics:

Distance:  42.2 kilometers

Time:  3:48:24

Average Pace:  8:43 per mile (5:25 per kilometer)

First Half:  1:52:07

Second Half:  1:56:17

Lifetime Marathons/Ultras:  537

Boston Qualifiers:  174

Countries:  52