Run All The States!

My mama once told me of a place
With waterfalls and unicorns flying
Where there was no suffering, no pain
Where there was laughter instead of dying
… Sal Tlay Ka Siti
Not just a story mama told
But a village in Ooh-Tah
Where the roofs are thatched with gold

Thanks to The Book of Mormon, this was basically my entire Salt Lake City knowledge base. Naturally, my first trip to Ooh-Tah came with sky-high expectations: golden roofs, mythical creatures, zero suffering.

Laura and I flew in on Thursday for a long weekend of playtime and race pain, aka the Salt Lake City Marathon and Half. Since she was crashing with a college friend and my bestie Cara wasn’t arriving until the next day, I had some solo wander time.

First impression: everything is so squeaky clean! Like, Disney World Main Street levels of pristine. Perfect landscaping, sparkling sidewalks, and not a single gum wrapper in sight. Add in those majestic mountain views and sunshiny spring weather, and I was living a tourism commercial. I eventually made my way to Temple Square to see the grand Salt Lake Temple, because when in Mormon country, you gotta do the thing. It’s an impressive sight by day, but extra glowy at night:

The next day, Cara arrived! I celebrated by nearly knocking her over in the hotel parking lot with a hug tackle. She greeted me with a tale of woe: the previous day in Moab, she went to mount her bike… and instead flopped directly onto a cactus. A very pointy, very unfriendly cactus. Her summary: “Who the f— DOES that?!”

After we stopped laughing (barely), we strolled over to the race expo at Energy Solutions Arena, home of the Utah Jazz. Given the venue size, I expected an expo of enormous proportions. Instead… it occupied about half a basketball court. They could’ve hosted a pickup game and packet pickup simultaneously. Sadly, no race magnets were to be found. I mourned appropriately.

After some race-eve sushi, we hopped on the UTA train back to the hotel, where we were gifted a bit of unexpected theater. A woman was loudly berating a man with such lines as, “GO BACK AND F— YOUR MORMON WHORE!” Oh my. This escalated until he bolted off the train and sprinted down the street. She then bellowed after him, “RUN, BITCH, RUN!” A pre-race motivational send-off if I’ve ever seen one.

Downhill Dreams & Uphill Regrets

Race morning greeted us with a perfect forecast: 50º and calm. We joined a crew of chattery runners on the train to the half start at Olympic Legacy Bridge — once home to the ’02 Winter Olympians. Festive balloon arches and snow-capped mountains made the whole scene feel very Instagrammable.

The course started with a glorious downhill stretch — the kind where your quads beg for mercy but you feel like you’re breaking the sound barrier. We zipped into Memory Grove Park, a springy green oasis full of budding trees.

As we passed under the Eagle Gate Monument near Temple Square, I scanned the skies for flying unicorns (Book of Mormon lied to me, rude). Instead, there was a big bronze eagle perched on top. Not quite as magical, but I appreciated the effort.

Somewhere near the halfway point, the course threw in an incline that felt like a betrayal after six miles of downhill cruising. I briefly considered calling for a sherpa. The rest of downtown featured streets with names like S 900 E and E 800 S — basically a GPS panic attack.

At one point, the official race photog snagged this action shot featuring my rear view:

photo credit: Salt Lake City Marathon Facebook page

Around mile 9, we wished the marathoners luck as they veered uphill. We waved and laughed and said encouraging things like, “Better you than us!”

After a scenic loop around Liberty Park, we wound our way to the finish line at Washington Square. State #5: conquered! I happily accepted my medal — complete with a spinny center — and proceeded to spin it like a toddler on espresso.

We reunited for our signature post-race activities: tacos, beer, and celebratory chest bumps.

Later, Laura crushed her marathon with a shiny new PR! We celebrated the only way that made sense: whiskey in a dive bar, all her favorite things.

photo credit: Laura’s friend

Thanks for the weird and wonderful memories, Sal Tlay Ka Siti. I’ll be back someday — and next time, I fully expect at least one golden roof and a unicorn or two. Don’t make a liar out of Mama.

Mountainous Musings:

• Best pre-race scolding: Laura got a pre-dawn finger-wag from TSA for jumping the “wait here” line. I responded like any good friend would — by laughing at her.
• Most confusing airport sign: “Caution. Wet carpet.” Is… that a threat?
• Hardest-to-believe overheard statement: A man on the train telling his buddy “Colorado’s so flat.” Sir… I’m gonna need you to Google “Rocky Mountains.”
• Unexpected safety delight: The city provides little orange flags for crossing the street. Safety, but make it fashion.
• Best post-race treat: So Delicious dairy-free fudgesicles! And later, giant cookies and coffee from City Cakes & Cafe — worth the mile-long walk (calories out, calories in).
• Cara’s quote of the weekend: “I NEED MEAT.” This primal cry led us to acquire steak salads at a neraby restaurant, where all was made right again. TSA for failing to heed the “stay back until you’re called” sign. Like a good friend, I pointed and laughed.