Estes Park Marathon: Estes Park, Colorado, June 16, 2024 – Marathon #50
I’m finding it hard to put my feelings into words, but I’ll try. This marks Phase 1 of my journey to run 50 marathons in 50 states, a challenge I set for myself on October 16, 2021. With my final marathon in Phase 1 just behind me on June 16, 2024, I’ve experienced more than I could have ever imagined. In many ways, this is just the beginning—but I can’t help but reflect on all I’ve learned and accomplished so far.
One thing is certain: this journey has taught me so much about myself, other people, and the world around me. There have been moments of pure joy, extreme exhaustion, doubt, and triumph. Some races were grueling, others more beautiful than I ever anticipated, but every single one has shaped me. And there’s one race, in particular, that stands out as a true testament to everything this journey is about: the Estes Park Marathon in Colorado.
The Rules That Kept Me Going
When I set out to run marathons across all 50 states, I established three simple but powerful rules:
- Finish the race — No matter what, I wasn’t leaving a marathon without my medal.
- Don’t get hurt — Because no one is coming to save you.
- Don’t be last — Because there are already people who doubt you. I wasn’t about to prove them right.
Through sickness, exhaustion, excitement, and even depression, I stuck to these rules. Even when I ran on little sleep, in strange and unfamiliar conditions, or after incredibly long travel days, I made it through. I’ve had my fair share of hiccups—like showing up to Alaska and Vermont races only to realize I hadn’t registered, but somehow the race directors worked their magic and let me run anyway. And after a course error at the Oz Marathon in Kansas, I reran it in 2023 to get certified, which technically brought me to 51 marathons. Hey, I’m a rule follower, so I’m counting it.
But let’s get back to Estes Park, because it’s a race I’ll never forget.
The Estes Park Marathon: A Close Call and a Special Moment
The Estes Park Marathon was a true test of grit. We started at an elevation of 9,500 feet—higher than anything I’d experienced before—and right from the beginning, I could feel the thin air making each step more challenging. But as tough as it was, it also promised something special: the chance to run alongside wildlife, as the race organizers had warned us. They said the wildlife had the right of way, but I didn’t fully understand what that meant—until about mile 12.
I rounded a corner and came face-to-face with a mama elk and her baby, right in my path. The other runners and I immediately did what we were instructed to do: we stopped and waited, hoping they’d move aside. But then, out of nowhere, a few runners came from the opposite direction, spooking the mama elk. And in that instant, she charged straight at me!
For a moment, I thought my marathon journey would end not with a finish line, but with me being trampled by an elk. I wasn’t sure what to do, but somehow I managed to escape her charge. It was that close. My heart was racing, not from the run, but from sheer survival instinct. But hey, what’s a marathon journey without a few unexpected adventures? That elk encounter is definitely a story for the books.
The rest of the race was relatively uneventful—until mile 17, when I had the surprise of my life. My youngest grandson, Owen, showed up on the course to run with me. His face was full of excitement, and we shared a moment I’ll never forget. There was nothing more special than running alongside my grandbaby in the beautiful Colorado mountains. When I crossed the finish line, the race directors let Owen hand me my medal. It was the perfect end to an unforgettable race, and despite not having my best time, I finished 3rd in my age group. It was a reminder that sometimes, it’s the moments that matter more than the time on the clock.
Thank you, Estes Park Marathon, for giving me that memory.
The People Who Lifted Me Up
Throughout all of these marathons, the support of family, friends, and even strangers has meant everything to me. There were moments of doubt, times when I felt like giving up or was told I couldn’t do it. But I didn’t listen to the naysayers. Instead, I listened to the encouragement from my family, my fellow runners, and the people I met along the way who reminded me that anything is possible if you keep pushing forward.
A special thank you to my family for being there at every race, showing up with signs and cheering me on with full hearts. And to my friends and running communities—KC Smart Runners, Marathon Maniacs, 50 States Club, and RMHCKC—your support has been a constant source of motivation. From text messages to Facebook comments, to running beside me in some races, your belief in me has carried me through the toughest of times.
Looking Back, Moving Forward
As I look back on the races I’ve completed in this first phase—nine states down, with many more to go—I realize just how much I’ve grown, both as a runner and as a person. I’ve run sick, tired, and on minimal sleep. I’ve fought through physical and mental exhaustion, encountered wildlife on the trail, and had my fair share of mishaps. But I’ve also learned to embrace the challenges, to keep moving forward no matter what, and to celebrate the small victories along the way.
And through it all, I’ve learned this: it’s never really about the finish line. It’s about the people you meet, the lessons you learn, and the strength you discover within yourself that you never knew was there. Running these marathons has taught me more than I ever expected—not just about endurance, but about resilience, community, and the power of never giving up.
So, while my 50-state journey is far from over, I’m already looking ahead to what’s next. There are more races, more states to check off, and more memories to create. But for now, I’m so grateful for the family, the friends, and the moments—like the one in Estes Park with my grandson—that make every mile worth it.
Here’s to the next chapter.