Ruth Stodghill, Peak to Peak. 

Question #1: Are you nuts?

Question #2: Don’t you get bored?

These are the most common questions folks ask me when I tell them that I run marathons, and the answers are straightforward. Yes, I’m nuts. All marathoners are crazy. It’s a good kind of crazy. The kind of crazy that settled the West, that cured polio, that got humanity to the moon and will someday get us to Mars - the kind of crazy that motivates a person to attack any challenge.

And no, running in a marathon is far from boring. It’s an adventure.

Consider the following - on February 25, 2018, I successfully competed in the annual Pueblo Marathon. Along with my running buddy Giena, I completed all 26.2 miles of the race in just under five hours. Below is a breakdown of the wackiness, the bravery, the blood, the sweat, and the tears that comprised our epic journey. As you will see, it was anything but boring:

Starting Line - I don’t know if I’m jangling from nerves or shaking because it’s only twenty degrees outside this morning. How many layers should I wear? I wish I had Miss Cleo and her crystal ball here to tell me if I should keep this extra jacket.

Mile 1 - Giena and I dash across the starting line, hearts fluttering, feet pounding, arms pumping. Our buddy, Running Jeff, sprints ahead with the super-speedy peloton. Giena turns on some tunes; the music thumping from the playlist on her phone is infectious - but maybe I shouldn’t literally boogie the electric slide - I should conserve some of that energy for later in the race.

Mile 2 - Darn my underwear - they’re crooked! How do I discreetly straighten them, surrounded by a pack of runners? Hopefully over the course of the next mile, my undies will slide back into place.

Mile 3 - No such luck. I do my best to fix my skivvies without being noticed - a difficult task, since our race course is now parallel with a major thoroughfare. I do my best to straighten myself out - but things are becoming decidedly uncomfortable.

Mile 4 - The race course is now adjacent to the sweeping vistas of Pueblo Reservoir - piercing sky, stunning bluffs, deep blue sparkling waters. Giena and I pause for a second to take in the view.

Mile 5 - Bathroom! I dash inside to fix my wardrobe malfunction. Joy and happiness are restored throughout the land!

Mile 6 - Giena and I pass Tutu Girl. Everyone memorable at races gets a nickname - can you guess how Tutu Girl got hers? Yup, she’s donned a neon green tank top, Punky Brewster pigtails, and a pink tutu skirt for today’s event. I have seen Tutu Girl at races before - always in a tutu, and always smiling.

Mile 7 - Oh no! Nature is calling me, and there’s not a porta-potty in sight. Giena and I walk a minute so the jogger behind us will pass by...then Giena keeps a lookout for me while I do my best to hide behind six inches of weeds to take care of business.

Mile 8 - I am using packets of energy gel for nutrition during the marathon. As I ingest my second packet of the gel, which tastes amazingly like chocolate frosting, I wonder - would energy gel be a yummy topping slathered on pancakes? Mmmmm...pancakes!

Mile 9 - The weather is, as it often is in Colorado, a fickle mistress. No sooner do I take off my jacket for the first time in nine miles on this early spring day, then a gust of arctic wind reminds me that February still is, technically, winter. I quickly decide to don my jacket once again.

Mile 10 - Oh no! Nature is calling me, a second time. I should have taken some Imodium before the race, as Running Jeff suggested. Giena again acts as my lookout as I pull off to the side of the path to take care of business - trickier this time, since I have only roughly two inches of ‘off the path’ at my disposal.

Mile 11 - I notice the construction workers on the opposite bank of the river from us. Did they see me back at Mile 10? Is that why I heard whistling? How embarrassing! Run away!

Mile 12 - Another mile, another energy gel down the hatch. This is about my fourth one so far. The frosting-like residue is becoming slathered across everything my fingers touch - my mouth, my sunglasses, my water bottle, my jacket.

Mile 13 - Halfway there! I feel tired - no! No I don’t! Too soon to let those shenanigans start to run through my head!

Mile 14 - Aid station buffet time! The station at Mile 14 has it ALL - bananas, oranges, gels, goo, powders, Gatorade, soda, sandwiches, pretzels...I think I even saw some caviar and lemon meringue pie on the table.

Mile 15 - As we dive deeper into the forest along the midtown section of the river walk, I feel like a knight from Camelot of old...behind every tree is a mystery. Be there elves in these woods? Is that a dragon I see on the ridge - or is that steam coming from a factory? ‘Tis a mystery!

Mile 16 - I wish I was a knight from Camelot - I’d have a horse to ride. Mustn’t tell Giena I am getting tired!

Mile 17 - Within a mile or two, we should be doubling back along the route to head towards the finish line. I expect to see Running Jeff, ahead of us with the speedsters, coming back towards us any second. Hey, that’s him! No, that’s a man on a bike. My mistake. There he is - nope, just a petite woman out walking her dog. Ok, this time that’s GOT to be him - nope. Tumbleweed. I must be getting loopy from exhaustion.

Mile 18 - I pop yet another energy gel. Delicious as frosting is, I think I’ve ingested enough at this point to have properly covered an eight-tier wedding cake. I don’t know how much more of this I can stand.

Mile 19 - Giena tells me she sees Running Jeff heading towards us. I say, no way - it must be a yeti. Or a moving van. Or a daschund. But nope - this time, it really is Jeff! He high-fives us, and tells us that the turn-around is just half a mile ahead.

Mile 19.7 - Half a mile my sweet bippy!

Mile 19.9 - What’s this?! A yellow sign points for us to head through a large drainage pipe - this can’t be right, can it? Confused, Giena and I reluctantly climb in - is this the proverbial rabbit hole? Are we going to pop out in Wonderland?

Mile 20 - Sweet merciful lord! It’s not Wonderland - it’s heaven! We’ve reached the turn-around!

Mile 20.1 - Back through the rabbit-hole we go…

Mile 21 - You’ve got to be kidding me. Nature is calling me AGAIN! I don’t even bother to check if anyone else is around this time - I’m too tired for that. I hide behind a tree for a minute, then continue to lope along my merry way.

Mile 22 - As Giena and I make our way again through the haunted wood, our chatter is interrupted by a loud bang nearby. That must have been a car backfiring - but in the middle of the forest? Surely not. What sounds like three more gunshots go off in rapid succession. Who would’ve known we could still sprint twenty-two miles into a marathon?

Mile 23 - Running on fumes, I manage to choke down the last energy gel stashed away in my pack. I contemplate pausing to perform impromptu surgery on the massive blister I can feel forming on one of my big toes - but I don’t think I have the coordination left to untie my shoe to get at it. So onward we march!

Mile 24 - The route has looped us back to the Mile 14 aid station. The buffet looks as if it had been picked over by vultures. Nothing left but energy gels. Noooo!!!!! We stagger right on past.

Mile 25 - Giena and I can practically smell the finish line in front of us. Road-weary, we pause and walk for a minute as the route winds behind some trees where we know the waiting spectators can’t see us. We do our best to brush down our ponytails, wipe the dried salt and sweat from our brows, put on our best smiles, and promise not to stop again until we cross the finish line.

Mile 25.5 - Ok, maybe we’ll just walk for just one more second…

Mile 26 - Running again, Giena and I high-five. Only .2 miles left to go!

Mile 26.2 - Where’s the stinking finish line?! This was supposed to be it already! I said I was going to run a marathon - not one step more!

Mile 26.3 - Sweet lord in heaven, Giena and I spy the finish line as we round one last corner. We use what fire we have left to pick up the pace for a final frantic sprint. As we slide across the finish line, we grab hands, ending this epic journey the way we trained for the last four months - side-by-side.

So as you can see, a marathon is a series of twenty-six adventures, some of them scary, some of them thrilling, some of them embarrassing. So, am I a bit nuts? Absolutely. And is a marathon boring? Anything but.