2004 Salt Lake City Marathon: In-depth Report

By Jim Hilding

Saturday, April 24, 2004. 7:00 am. Somewhere on the still slumbering campus of the University of Utah:

No wind, a good sign. The air is crisp and dry, and we watch our breath disappear into the early dawn. Each of us is cold now, but we are unconcerned.  The excitement and anticipation warm our souls, and we know that soon our heart rates elevating with exertion will dispel the last of this morning’s biting chill. With the sun just beginning to peek over the Wasatch and bathe the Oquirr and Stansbury ranges in a warm rose alpenglow, I find myself huddling with several thousand others before an endless bank of lime-green porta-potties. (Okay, so it’s not Everest base camp). While most of Salt Lake still sleeps or stumbles around the kitchen, I am wondering if I will reach the head of the line before the start of the 2004 Salt Lake City Marathon. Some 2800 like minded idiots and I walk through our prerace routines and pretend that we are not completely mortified. 26.2 miles. The distance from Marathon to Athens. According to legend Phillipides supposedly carried the news of the defeat of the Persians at Marathon back to Athens. Then he collapsed and died. I am undaunted, but then I will have aid stations every two miles, fluids to replace lost electrolytes and packets of liquid sugar to help me, not to mention the support of cheering throngs along the way. Phillipides probably didn’t even have a water bottle.

I lived in Salt Lake for several years and always enjoy returning for a visit, but I certainly gained a new appreciation for the city running last year’s inaugural marathon. The course winds its way down tree lined streets as it passes through some of Salt Lake’s most unpretentious neighborhoods, and I was truly impressed with how many people came out to cheer the runners. Unquestionably the most memorable thing about the race was the supportive crowd. Granted most of them probably just wanted to see the Kenyans go by, but by the time I came through the Kenyans were already eating peanuts on the plane to the next race, and still the crowds cheered. I have no idea how many people braved the cold that morning. Something like 2800 people ran the marathon. Five or six people were there primarily to watch me run. Extrapolate that out and, if the other 2799 competitors each had the same number of spectators as me, that would put the total crowd somewhere between 13,995 and 16, 794. Impressive, indeed. And that doesn’t even include the folks who didn’t know any runners. In fact I found only one thing about last year’s course that I think organizers need to change. Around mile eight a young girl, perhaps nine or ten years old, enthusiastically waved a large sign that read pain is temporary, pride is forever. At that point I felt no pain, but I thought forever was a poor choice of words when there are still 18 miles to be run. Organizers definitely need to move this young girl somewhere past mile 20 this year.