Rio Grande Marathon
Las Cruces, New Mexico
October 30, 2005 by Paul Cooley

A large part of the intrigue of the marathon, for me, is that each marathon I have run is unique. It is unique not only in the way the race unfolds over its 26.2 mile course but it is also unique in the way that it defines the runner on that particular day. I recently finished the Rio Grande Marathon in Las Cruces, New Mexico and it was a classic example, to me, of the intrigue of the marathon.

First a little background. One of my concerns for this race was the elevation. I live in Houston, Texas which is at 50 foot elevation compared to Las Cruces which is at 3908 feet above sea level. I have run a number of marathons in places such as: Houston, Surfside, Texas (which must be at sea level, since it is run on the shore of the Gulf of Mexico), Dallas, Austin and Boston. Arriving on the Thursday before the Sunday race, I was able to acclimate three days and did squeeze in a last minute 6K training run on part of the marathon course on Friday morning. I had no idea if that was sufficient to adjust to the altitude. I had talked to a number of people both at home and in Las Cruces to see what affect 4,000 foot of elevation may have, and the consensus was not definite, but that it would have "some" affect. On my short pre-race run I seemed to labor more than usual for having rested several days that week as a part of my "taper" for the marathon. My thinking was: there are many marathon races at higher elevations, so 4,000 feet, relatively thinking, probably would not be that bad. Another concern was the layout of the course. However, it was advertised with an elevation gain of plus or minus 10 feet, which, if true, would make it flatter than the Houston marathon course. My other concerns were the temperature and humidity. Las Cruces is in the desert, so I knew it would be low humidity and cool in the morning, warming quickly as the sun rose. I talked a friend, Larry Lindeen, into coming with me to Las Cruces. My brother Mike and his wife Helen have resided there for many years and I had visited them there on several occasions so I was somewhat familiar with the city.

Daylight savings time entered into the picture as we set our clocks back one hour the morning of the race, which meant the sun would be up for about 45 minutes before the 7 a.m. start. The race course is out and back, with the start and finish at the Field of Dreams Stadium, which is a high school track and football stadium. My family walked us to the start line. It was in the mid to upper 40’s, which meant gloves and a tee shirt that I could peel off, to leave my singlet, and of course, my shorts. While the marathon was the main event, we started off with entrants in the companion 5K, half marathon and 5 person marathon relay. The first mile followed a field of cotton, which looked like it was about ready to be harvested. The second mile went along a highway and we picked out a landmark to spot on the way back in: Soto’s Tire shop. The third mile made a turn out into the country along a field planted with cabbage and the fourth and fifth mile found us off-road onto a dirt then asphalt trail that paralleled the Rio Grande river. This is where the race started to become unique for me. My right hamstring that felt noticeably tight off and on for the first couple miles suddenly cramped. I have dealt with leg cramps before and know that if they come they usually do not go away without laying off completely i.e. stopping the activity. The only race I have ever DNF’ed over the past 17 years of racing was a 5K where I developed a calf cramp warming up. I started the 5K race but could go no further than about ¼ mile before I had to quit. My choices seemed to be: 1. quit; 2. continue on at a slowed pace and see what happens; or 3. try to ignore it and go for broke. I chose the middle ground. I dismissed the idea of quitting with the thought that, after all, this is a marathon and as they say, not only can anything happen in a marathon, but it is meant to give challenge and to test you to see how you meet that challenge. I was willing to be challenged but I did not want to seriously injure myself in the process. I did not think that running until I finished or the cramping made it so I could not run any longer would produce that type of injury. My average pace for the first 5 miles had been around 8:20 minutes per mile. My mile pace for the next mile was around 14 minutes, but I was moving comfortably, and only if I tried to accelerate did I feel any sign of discomfort in my hamstring. I decided I would try to make the half way turn around and see what would happen from there.

The race course along the Rio Grande was pleasant. The sky was clear and blue. Picacho Mountain, a dormant volcano, was on our right and the jagged Organ Mountains on our left. I now was on the part of the course that I had run my training run on a couple days before. My mind flashed back to meeting a runner in the dark that morning and asking questions about the course and whether it would be safe for me to run there. He mentioned something about someone being found in the river. Later that day I read in the Las Cruces newspaper that on Wednesday a 16 year old girl’s remains had been pulled from the Rio Grande near that area of the course. Apparently she had been murdered several months ago and her body lay there until it was found. Very tragic and very sad. I know that all the thoughts and prayers of the runners must have gone out to her and her family when they went by this point of the course.

The race course on the trail along the Rio Grande passed the turn around point for the half marathon and ended at about mile 8 into a dirt parking area. My sister-in-law and my niece, Sara, were there to applaud and give encouragement. They informed me that Larry was just a few minutes ahead. The race course then turned east on an asphalt road toward the town of Mesilla and then after about 1 mile turned right down a two lane highway lined with Pecan orchards to the marathon turn around. My brother met me at about mile 12 with water and I shared part of the bottle with Larry as he approached from the opposite direction after making the turn around. I now was encouraged. I had run 8 miles without further cramping and was maintaining a fairly steady 9 minute per mile pace. My legs felt tired, but not spent. I believed I could finish the race and set my mind to it. At the 25K point my time was around 2:17, I had run the Rocky Raccoon 25K trail run in Huntsville State Park the week before at 2:08, so I was not doing that bad. I also was thinking that maybe racing the 25K the week before had more to do with my hamstring cramp than either the air temperature or the altitude. The marathon, I figured, based on the prior years results and my observations this morning, had about 90 participants. Apparently only 1 of those participants was running anywhere close to my pace, and that was me, because I had with no companionship from about mile 6 until the finish.

At mile 17 I was back off the road and onto the trail again. It was probably in the mid 70’s by now and I handed my singlet off to my sister-in-law who was still at the trail exit/entrance. Between mile 20 and 21 two runners passed me. I tried to give pursuit but was only able to increase my pace enough to stay the same distance from one of them for the remainder of the race. So it was back off the trail, down the cabbage patch road and onto the highway looking for Soto’s Tire shop. I passed a runner I had chatted with at the start line at about mile 24. He was walking. It dawned on me then, that except for the brief time I stopped to rub my hamstring after it cramped at mile 5, I had not stopped or walked since.

I knew that the race finished in the stadium. What I did not know is that when we came into the parking lot of the stadium on the south side that we had to run the full length of the stadium to the north side, enter the stadium, run again to the south side on the track and do one complete lap of the track to finish. If you have run over 25 miles that is an unpleasant tease, especially passing the finish line and knowing you still have ¼ mile to go. But my family was there taking pictures and it felt like a real accomplishment to finish in front of them. Once I stopped I was a little wobbly and reflected back on how dry my mouth had been for much of the latter part of the race. I downed two bottles of water within the first few minutes of finishing and was still thirsty. One physical challenge remained. We needed to check out of the hotel within the next 45 minutes, but each time I attempted to get in the Jeep Liberty I had rented, my legs would start to cramp. Not just one hamstring but both, both calves and the big toe on my right foot. At one point my left calf cramped so hard I could see the distortion of the muscle. I was not brave. I yelled and grimaced each time the cramps hit. The cramps would hit anytime I took the weight off my feet. Finally I was able to crab crawl backward into the rear of the vehicle and with my feet sticking out the back window I waived to my sister-in-law and brother as Larry pulled out of the parking lot to drive me back to the hotel. I am sure they were wondering about that time, among other things, whether I was having fun doing this. I had a devil of a time getting out of the vehicle at the hotel, but once inside the hotel room, with the help of more water, some food and some Advil, the cramping dissipated.

Before we left Las Cruces for El Paso and the flight home, we returned to the stadium. Larry placed first in his age group with a 3:51 time, and to my surprise, I placed second in mine with a 4:06 time. The awards were hand made Kachina dolls. I placed mine in a running bag and protected it with cardboard for the transport home. It looked and felt as fragile as my legs.