NORTH TO ALASKA!

Most South Dakotans know that Pierre is one of only a handfull (5) of state capitals not served by an interstate highway. Perhaps fewer of us are aware that one of the other four not only lacks an interstate, it is totally unreachable by any sort of road or trail. Juneau, Alaska is accessible only by sea or air travel. There are roads and cars, but all end; the main highway’s stopping point is referred to by residents fittingly as “End of the Road.”

Having run a marathon in at least 30 states, I was in the market for an Alaskan marathon to add to my expereinces. Juneau offers a small, well-established one in August, featuring cool weather, a scenic, uncomplicated course, and fresh grilled salmon free to all finishers at the end of the run. Given the spate of 100+ degree days we’d been experiencing in the Black Hills this summer coupled with my penchant for seafood, this race beckoned. (Needless to say, it helps that my husband is an avid traveller, even in this day of airport snafus and aggravation.)

Rule number one in travelling to a marathon is get a room first. We’d decided relatively late to try this trip, and were lucky enough to find a place complete with a fully equipped kitchette that wasn’t too spendy. Registering for the race and booking a flight were more easily accomplished. Next steps were directly to the Rapid City Library where I found the Lonely Planet’s guide to Alaska along with Alaska for Dummies. My husband checked out an Alaskan travel DVD and Jonathan Raban’s Passage to Juneau. Much more than a travelogue, the Raban book descibes a voyage he made through the inner passage from Seattle to Juneau, while exploring both the histroy of the area and some personal emotional journies of his own.

Anticipation is one of the essential parts of travel. We eagerly awaited the start of our trip, taking delight in packing decisions involving jackets and heavier warm-up pants for the 50 degree nights and early mornings in our future. Summer’s great; I love it, but running when it’s over 90 isn’t recommended, and with good reason! The climate change became more real once we were in the Alaskan Airlines part of the Seattle terminal, observing folks deplaning from Alaska in jackets.

Arriving on Wednesday, I had several days before the race on Saturday and got in some easy sight-seeing runs, including one 7 miler on a delightfully sunny Thursday afternoon. Juneau is in what is described as a “temperate rainforest” and the array of plants and trees are astounding. There are a number of hiking trails in and around town. Friday’s packet pick-up was at the Goldbelt Hotel; I made arrangements with Steve, a runner from Ventura Beach to get a ride to the start, across the bay in Douglas.

Race day dawned overcast and mild, just perfect for marathoning. We arrived at the start, where I happily greeted Rob Lopez, a Maniac friend from Seattle. Rob ran the course last year; this year, he is running and raising money for breast cancer research, attired in a bright pink shirt. I also bumped into fellow Black Hills Running Club member Gary Miller, in Alaska for a family wedding and there in anticipation of the half-marathon to start later on in the day.

We marathoners lined up, met a few fellow runners, including a first time marathoner from Cocoa beach, Florida and another Floridian from Naples. They were fairly ecstatic about the weather as they traded comparisons on who had to contend with more humidity back home.

At the start, we saw Shawn Miller, who would go on to win the race. About the only other time we saw him on the course was as we headed toward (and he had long since made) the turn-around at the 13 mile mark. He finished 40 minutes ahead of the second place runner with a blazing 2:33. Rob and I ran the first half of the race together, chatting amicably at times and also just enjoying stretches of companionable silence while we took in the beauty around us, occassionally pointing out an eagle or one of the many narrow ribbons of waterfalls that cascaded down the hills to our left. To our right was the bay, and, as we neared the turn-around, the Mendenhall Glacier. Rob waved me on at the point so I was mostly solo for several miles with the glorious view of the Glacier to contemplate. This was just an awe-inspiring vista and truly eclipsed the description of the course as being “scenic.”

I’d noticed at the turn-around there was just one other woman ahead of me. (Remember, it was a very small marathon.) Since I was feeling great, running in high 50 degree weather at sea level, I increased my pace just a notch to see what might happen. Sure enough, around mile 17 I caught her. Kate is 28 and from Juneau, I learned as we chatted a bit before I moved ahead.

There was a half marathon that started 2 hours after we did, an out and back on our same course. Just as I approached their turn-around (6.55 miles from the finish), the lead runners were making their turns. A number of half marathoners passed me, of course, as they were running a faster pace and I got to see a great many more coming at me. It was a pleasant change to be surrounded by so many people after the previous solitude. The peaceful nature of the middle of the run was wonderful, but having company for those final 6 miles helped with the fatigue that sets in no matter how good you felt at the halfway mark.

I crossed the finish line in 3:31, 4th overall and the first woman. The finishers medal is a raven head in the style of one of the Native American tribes of the area. There was a fantastic feast awaiting us; grilled burgers, hot dogs, and abundant salmon. While we ate (and there was a massage corner, for those runners wanting some loosening up), the awards were given out and a woman who had completed her quest to run a marathon in all 50 states was acknowledged.

While I hope that every marathon is one I’ll remember, I know that this one will always have a special place in my mind’s eye. That’s not just because of my finish. I’d remember this one for the beauty of the land alone. Factor in the outstanding welcome provided by all of the race volunteers who take demonstrable pride in putting on a first-class event and you have one truly unforgettable experience.