Four Events Is Not Enough (Part 8 of 10)

With that miraculous healing of my legs, I began to train for the Deseret News Marathon in July of that year. One preparation was a half marathon in Ogden. Dad took me up there. I also took a scale and weighed myself before the race. During the race, I made it a point not to drink any liquid at the aid stations. After the race I weighed myself again. I had lost 13 pounds! As we got closer to the time for the Deseret News Marathon, I trained with my friends from cross country and track, Steve Allen, Phil Allen, and Bret Parker. We even stayed over one night at Bret’s house and we were going up in the early morning to run part of the Marathon course. But due to mechanical problems with the old jalopy that we were going to take, we never made it. The night before the actual marathon, we all slept in sleeping bags in my livingroom. Phil found out at the last minute that he couldn’t run, but took us up to the starting line in East Canyon. We started off together and ran like that for a while, but Bret pulled way ahead. He was very soon going on a mission and he wanted to do as well as he could. Steve and I ran together for a while longer, but I encouraged him to go on ahead, that I didn’t want to hold him back. Most of the 26 mile race retraced the trail of the final leg of the journey of the Mormon Pioneers into the Salt Lake Valley. It was hard to think of that historical significance, though. It was a hard race. At mile 13 I started to run downhill. I opened up and ran faster because gravity could help me. My legs cramped up when I did this, so I’d have to walk to feel better. I soon found that I needed to go slower so my legs wouldn’t cramp up. As we ran down through Emigration Canyon, people were off to the side of the road and offered to spray us with their water hoses. It sure felt good. At mile twenty, near the mouth of the canyon, I hit “the wall.” I had heard about this but never before experienced it. It was an over whelming feeling of stopping and quitting the race. I was also getting dizzy and I had difficulty staying on the road. I had a great desire to lay down on the ground, even in a rocky area. I knew that if I did, I’d never get up again. The next few miles I started to rally. And then I turned onto the parade route. I wasn’t prepared for what came next. The 200,000 people who lined the streets to see the parade were all cheering for me. I had chills down my spine. This was a great reward for finishing such a hard race. I ran as fast as I could. My legs didn’t cramp up and I ran the final miles of the marathon. I finally got to Liberty park and the finish line. I did it in four hours and fifteen minutes. Though I ran that same marathon a total of five times in the next ten years, my only faster time was the next year with a time of four hours and ten minutes.

Pictured above is the end of Vera's first marathon and it was my second.