The only concern I had about the course was that it was on a gravel path. I knew it would a wide path since it was an old railroad grade, but I didn’t know how rough the gravel would be. A couple of friends who had raced there told me not to worry; as long as I had shoes that wouldn’t get chunks of gravel stuck in the treads, I should be fine.
The other concern that some reviewers mentioned was the 2.3-mile Snoqualmie Tunnel. It is dark and the footing can be treacherous. But I was used to running on dark mornings, and I don’t have any fears of enclosed spaces, so I figured it would be fine. I bought a cheap headlamp at Target for the tunnel, planning to drop it at the end of the tunnel like most participants do in this race.
On race morning, I drove from our hotel in Seattle to the pass, then parked just 50 meters from the start. It was a chilly morning, so I sat in the car until a few minutes before the start time, then lined up to get ready to go. It’s a small race, limited to 500 runners by the state park service which maintains the trail. Soon we were off, heading east towards Lake Keechelus at the top of Snoqualmie Pass. The trail follows the edge of the lake, so it’s flat as a tabletop. The gravel near the start line was quite rough, but it evened out after a half mile or so, and I was able to get a nice running rhythm going. There was a 3:35 pacer, which was convenient since my main goal for the race was to beat my Philly time of 3:37:25.
Unfortunately the pacer was running a little faster than I was planning on pacing my race. I wanted to run about 8:15 per mile, which works out to a 3:36 marathon, and I could pick up the pace when I got to the downhill part if I felt good. The pacer was running closer to an 8:00 pace, which is really a 3:30 marathon pace. He wasn’t far behind the official 3:30 pacer. So I backed off a bit but still ended up running a little faster than planned. When I reached the turnaround at Mile 5, I was actually at an 8:00 pace for the race myself—and still behind the 3:35 pacer!
Heading back towards the start, I consciously slowed my pace, trying to get closer to that 8:15 I had planned on. I ran through the 10-mile marker at the start line in an 8:18 for that mile. Tunnel ahead!
Within a half mile, I was at the tunnel entrance. I turned on the headlamp I had been wearing since the start of the race and ran inside. It was dark. Really dark. Was my light even on? I waved my hand in front of the headlamp and saw that it was on, but it was barely illuminating the path, which was quite uneven. I took off the headlamp and held it like a flashlight to get it closer to the path, which I could now just barely see. I guess that’s the difference between an $8.99-for-two Target special and the $50 running headlamp I normally use! As I shuffled carefully along in the damp tunnel, my pace slowed. A runner passed me and I tried staying close behind him, but I was struggling to find smooth ground, and I had to slow down to avoid a tumble. My first mile in the tunnel was an 8:48. As I got used to the surface, which was kind of a hard, gritty, dense, wet, rutty gravel, I was able to pick up the pace a bit, and ran an 8:24 for Mile 12.
Finally I emerged from the tunnel! I could see the trail now, and soon the downhill section would start. Unfortunately, the gravel also got rougher in this section. The tunnel had taken a lot out of me, and now my feet were aching as the gravel pounded me with every step. I couldn’t get into any kind of a rhythm. Mile 13 was 8:39. Though the downhill section had started, this wasn’t feeling easier. I have a Morton’s neuroma on my left foot, which causes pain on my footpad, but which I can usually manage with the right combination of footwear and a bit of a modification to my stride. In this gravel, I couldn’t run a consistent stride pattern, and every few steps I would land awkwardly and deliver a piercing pain up my left leg. Mile 14 was 9:11. To beat my time from Philly, I needed to be running 8:15s. I had hoped to be going even faster than that on this section, but I could see that would be impossible. Was it worth it to continue?
I walked for 30 seconds as I consumed a gel, then started back running, hoping that brief break would allow me to get back to pace. It didn’t work, and I was running slower than ever. I could probably limp to the finish, but it would be a very painful slog.
After a few minutes, I did the math in my head. I could stop now and walk 4 miles back to the start, or I could keep going for 12 miles to the finish line, with a lot of pain and a disappointing finish time. I decided to stop. This would be my first-ever marathon DNF.
I stopped my Garmin, turned around, and headed back towards the start. As I passed all the runners who were still heading for the finish, I wondered if I had made the right decision. I knew they all had different goals from me. Some were older than me, still on track for a BQ. For some, it might have been their first marathon, or their fastest. For me, it was none of those things. I had tried to reach my own goal, but that was clearly not going to happen today. Stopping was the right decision, at least for me.
After a chilly passage back through the tunnel, I finally made it back to my car. Soon I would be headed back down the mountain with a hot cup of coffee. Definitely the right decision!
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