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USAT Certified Coach Jim McGehee of One-on-One Endurance analyzes the swim stroke of age group triathlete Anne Clelland in Blacksburg, Virginia. www.oneononeendurance.com

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Everything You Know About Marathons Is Wrong

 

A researcher reported recently that he could find no relationship between dehydration and cramping.

By GINA KOLATA

Most runners have heard the marathon lore: Your time will be best if the weather on race day is about 55 degrees and overcast, or even drizzly. And avoid dehydration at all costs, because it will cause your muscles to cramp and you could collapse at the finish line.

But none of that is true, researchers said at a recent marathon medicine and science conference in Chicago.

The weather theory “needs adjusting,” said Scott J. Montain, a research physiologist at the United States Army Research Institute of Environmental Medicine in Natick, Mass.

“Most of what we know comes from the lay literature,” he said.

Thousands of runners are no doubt monitoring the weather forecast for Sunday, when the New York City Marathon makes its annual tour of the five boroughs. (As of yesterday, it looked promising, with temperatures expected to be in the upper 40’s and partially cloudy skies.) But the weather nostrums for marathoning that are cited so authoritatively in journal articles and textbooks are not always borne out in legitimate science. Montain and his colleagues set out to conduct a proper study.

They gathered data from 28 years of the New York City Marathon, 35 years of the Boston Marathon and 23 years of the marathons in Hartford, Vancouver, Duluth, Minn., and Richmond, Va. The routes for those marathons have barely changed over the years, and each had a large field — more than 10,000 runners. The investigators looked at the average times for the top three men and women, and at the times for the runners who placed 25th, 50th, 100th and 300th.

Elite runners ran fastest in the coldest conditions — 41 to 50 degrees. But the slowing effect with heat was not as great as had been previously reported. For every five-degree increase in temperature, times slowed by 0.4 percent.

Warmer weather had a greater effect on slower runners. On a 77-degree day, an elite runner would be about 5 percent slower than on a 41-degree day. But a runner who finished in three hours on a 41-degree day would be slowed by about 12 percent on a 77-degree day, finishing in 3 hours 21 minutes.

One reason, Montain said, could be that slower runners spend more time on the course, and the temperature generally rises through the day. Or it could be because slower runners tend to run with a larger pack. A tightly clustered group of runners generates heat and blocks it from dissipating.

Montain and his colleagues also looked at whether marathon times were better under sunny or overcast skies. Only 13 percent of records were set on cool and cloudy days.

“It is more likely that a record will be set when it is sunny or when there are scattered clouds,” Montain said. He is not sure why that is; perhaps sunny conditions put runners in a better mood, he suggested.

Then there is the issue of cramping, that often excruciating, spasmodic, involuntary contraction of muscles that can occur during or, more often, just after a marathon. It almost always involves the muscles that were used to run — the hamstrings or calf muscles, for example. And it can last a minute or two — or much longer.

Conventional wisdom says cramps are caused by dehydration and that the solution is to consume salt and drink more fluids. Not true, says Martin P. Schwellnus, a professor of sports medicine at the University of Cape Town in South Africa.

At the conference in Chicago last month, he reported that he could find no relationship between dehydration and cramping. He has studied cyclists, marathoners and triathletes, measuring levels of electrolytes and body-weight changes, both of which are indicators of dehydration. Those who cramped were no different from those who did not.

Two other studies looked at how much weight ultramarathon runners and triathletes lost during races — a measure of fluid loss and a direct indicator of dehydration. Those who cramped lost no more weight than those who did not. If anything, Schwellnus said, those who did not have cramps were slightly more dehydrated.

The cause of cramps, Schwellnus believes, is an alteration in the electrical signals going to exhausted muscles so that the balance between those signals activating muscles and those inhibiting them is distorted. One way to protect yourself is with proper marathon training and proper pacing. “Racing at too high of an intensity is one of the single most important risk factors,” Schwellnus said.

When muscles cramp, there is a simple and effective treatment: stop running and stretch that muscle. And, Schwellnus said, realize that the cramping will soon stop.

“Almost no matter what you do, if you stop the activity, the muscle will come back to normal,” he said.

Beyond the finish line of every marathon are runners who feel dizzy, and some of them collapse. It is not as common as muscle cramps, but the condition can afflict up to about 5 percent of marathon runners, said Michael N. Sawka, head of the thermal and mountain medicine division at the United States Army Research Institute of Environmental Medicine. He wondered whether the cause could be dehydration, a commonly evoked mechanism.

Sawka looked at published studies. One compared 45 athletes who collapsed after an ultramarathon to 65 who completed the race and did not collapse. There were no obvious differences between the two groups: their body temperatures were the same (dehydration makes the temperature rise), as were their electrolyte levels. But those who collapsed were pushing themselves as hard as they could, were at or close to their personal records, or were medal winners in the race. Perhaps, Sawka said, “that final effort might contribute to collapse.”

The actual cause, though, does not appear to be dehydration, Sawka said. Instead, it is a pooling of blood in the lower legs and feet when vigorous exercise suddenly stops and the heart rate slows markedly.

Timothy Noakes, a professor of exercise and sports science at the University of Cape Town, said he had stopped giving intravenous fluids to collapsed runners.

“We completely changed the way we treat patients,” Noakes said. “All we do is have them lie down and put their feet higher than their head.”

Postmarathon collapse, Noakes added, “is a benign condition.”

“Just lift their legs and you will help the majority of patients,” he said. “That’s all you need to do to make most people recover very, very quickly. You can infuse as much fluid as you want, and you will not get the same response.”

 

Be a Better Runner—No Running Required

By Amanda MacMillan

Once a week I park myself in the living room, but it’s not to watch TV. For 30 minutes I cycle through six moves that will—hopefully—help improve the way I swing my arms, kick my legs, and plant my feet as I run.

I’m training for the Shamrock Half Marathon to be held in Virginia Beach in March with the help of Coach Mindy, owner and head coach of The Running Center. Yes, I’m still doing some real running during my thrice-weekly jogs. But I’ve also added these “Runditioning” exercises, which were developed by Coach Mindy to help improve running form and performance and to prevent injuries. Here’s a breakdown of my new regimen.

 

• "Running Arms": Holding five-pound hand weights, I stand with one leg in front of the other. Keeping my elbows bent at 90 degrees, I alternate my arms, swinging them forward and backward in controlled movements. I am careful not to cross in front of my body or let them flail out to the side.

• Leg Strengthening: I wrap a resistance band around my ankle and anchor the other end of the band to a couch leg. Facing away from the couch, I raise my leg up till the knee is bent to a 90-degree angle, 12 times per leg. Then I switch positions to face the couch and kick back, 12 times per leg.

• Balancing: I must simply balance on each leg for 30 seconds. Finally, something I’m good at! Since only one foot is touching the ground at a time when running, my body needs to get used to supporting all my weight on one leg. Coach Mindy taught me to use a balance board (shown at top left), but solid ground works too when I’m not at the gym.

It feels a little strange to use my couch as a training partner and to stand around on one leg in my living room, but if I stick with it, I should run more efficiently during the race.

And this isn’t the end of the indoor fun. At midnight on Saturday, for example, I’m hopping on a spin bike and will pedal away for an hour in the middle of Manhattan’s Grand Central Terminal.

No, I’m not crazy. It’s part of New York Sports Clubs’ Saints and Spinners ride, for which they’ll set up 100 spin bikes for 24 hours. For $100 an hour you can donate or fund-raise for a great cause: Dr. Mehmet Oz’s HealthCorps charity, which educates schoolkids about nutrition and exercise.

Athletes over 40 hurtle past records, stereotypes

Over the Hill?

Matt Carpenter, 43 Carpenter – owner of a 90.2 VO2 max, a record high for the measurement of efficient oxygen use – leaps a gulley at Garden of the Gods. The runner is often a winner of the Pikes Peak Ascent and the Pikes Peak Marathon. Photo by Helen H. Richardson, The Denver Post

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Jason Blevins The Denver Post

The familiar doubt arrived, haunting Marshall Ulrich.

"You are too old for this."

It was 114 degrees, and 56-year-old Ulrich was 35 miles into July’s Badwater Ultramarathon, a 135-mile race that climbs from California’s Death Valley to the flanks of Mount Whitney. Ulrich was crossing Death Valley for the 20th time in his running career, and things were looking grim. He’d lost 6 pounds since the start. His legs felt leaden, his breathing was labored. He was cramping. Sweat pouring. He was dead last in a race he’d won four times.

Maybe he’d pushed too hard, racing across the Gobi Desert, taking on an adventure race in Virginia and an ultramarathon through the Swiss Alps during the two months prior. Maybe after two decades of endless running in 117 ultra competitions and a dozen expedition-length adventure races and summiting the highest peaks in each continent, he was nearing his end at the top.

Maybe he was simply too old.

"I definitely thought about that for a little bit," he says, leaning back into a leather chair at his home perched above St. Mary’s Glacier.

"I had to give myself a little talk and say, ‘So what?’ I had to stop feeling sorry for myself. So I’m suffering. Big deal. I expect to suffer, and really, I just don’t care. You have to remember you always come back."

After an hour in the medical tent and a gallon of water, Ulrich found his inner champion and passed more than 40 other racers on his way to the finish the next day.

Turns out age wasn’t a factor. For Ulrich and an impressive roster of other over-40 athletes, a combination of smart training and the wisdom of experience lets them stay competitive.

They aren’t winning despite their age. They are winning because of their age.

Oxygen-burning machines
"What we are seeing is a new phenomenon in that we have athletes who are basically athletes their entire lives," says Chris Carmichael, Colorado Springs training maestro to Lance Armstrong and a former pro bike racer who finished his second Leadville 100 this year at the age of 46, this time in less than nine hours.

"They just keep on going. They just keep on getting more efficient with their use of oxygen. After years and years of aerobic training and competing, they are, in a sense, smarter athletes."

And they compete in an evolving playing field that is turning recreation into sport. What were once multi-day or several-week hikes – like the Colorado Trail or the Kokopelli Trail – are now venues for nonstop endurance races. Marathons, once the pinnacle of athletic achievement, are mere training runs for ultra races that span at least 50, but more often 100, miles.

Front page of the Sunday, 10/21/2007, Denver Post

Adventure racing, which draws teams so fast that the biggest weeklong races sell out in a matter of hours, has evolved into a contest for those who can suffer the most and still keep moving.

Take Bernie Boettcher. On his 45th birthday last month, the Silt legend reset his master-class record and logged his fourth overall win at the Imogene Pass race above Telluride. It was his 267th race in 260 consecutive weeks. In those five years of every-weekend racing in sneakers and snowshoes, he’s tallied 115 wins and 208 master-class wins.

"At the end of suffering, there is a reward, and it’s a really neat feeling to overcome that suffering," says Boettcher, his blue eyes gleaming beneath his trademark wide-brim straw hat. "After a while, that feeling is irresistible. You plow on through because you know it’s so good."

Passion before performance
A common thread found among Colorado’s venerable elite – aside, of course, from natural athletic talent – is a late competitive start. Most didn’t begin their full-tilt racing career until their mid-30s or even later.

"Maybe that’s because we have a different set of expectations and the passion came before the performance, where a lot of guys who started young had the performance first and then lost the passion," says Matt Carpenter, a rarely beaten world-class runner who, at 43, just won both the Pikes Peak Ascent and Pikes Peak Marathon in the same weekend.

"You have to look pretty hard to find young guys with the level of passion some of us old guys bring."

A few months ago, Carpenter teamed up with Ned Overend, a 52-year-old mountain biker from Durango, to win the team contest in the Teva Mountain Games. The two gray-haired athletes giddily beat some of the strongest young competitors in outdoor sports.

"I have a lot more respect now for the old-man strength, and I know now, once the gun goes off, forget the age groups. It’s every man for himself," says 29-year-old Josiah Middaugh, a nationally ranked triathlete from Vail who has lost several times to some of Colorado’s toughest over-40 racers.

The passion of the extraordinary elders is anchored in a steadfast love for training. Sure, for outdoor athletes, training means going for runs and rides in the woods. Who doesn’t like that? But when it comes to competing at an elite level, training involves somewhere around 40 hours a week of heavy work, not a weekend ride or two.

And after a couple of decades of training, the older athletes learn a few tricks – like how to taper and how to make it fun – that keep them in shape while staving off dreaded burnout.

They have trained for so long, their fitness level is staggering and it stays high. They aren’t rolling off the couch to prep for a race. They are building on decades of work.

"Training is a part of our lifestyle," says Overend, who was twice ranked as the world’s top rider and still levels virtually all rivals who pedal against him.

"Racing is important, but training is absolutely important. … You have to build momentum, get the right intensity and volume and find the right recovery time. It’s complicated, and it changes all the time. "

Wisdom of the war horse
The right training regimen fosters the right mental game – and that’s where some over-40 athletes say they have the sharpest edge over their younger rivals. It’s the same for most sports, where the old war horses know the strategies of a contest and carry the confidence and expertise they need to defeat stronger adversaries.

"Physically, I know there are people on the starting line who are probably stronger than me, but that doesn’t mean I cannot beat them," says Vail’s Mike Kloser, a 47-year-old husband, dad of two teenagers, director of activities at Beaver Creek and the world’s most accomplished adventure racer – who still rides a mountain bike like he’s being pursued by wolves.

"It might actually mean I am more able to beat them, because they rely less on their mental game. The mental game is a huge factor."

So long as that mental war is waged before the start of the race. While a younger racer might be strategizing and obsessing during a race, veterans know that in competition they have to remain in the moment.

"For me the mental part isn’t really a part of it. I just get out there, and it’s too overwhelmingly physical to get stressed," says Dave Wiens, a mountain biking champion who beat Floyd Landis and his own record in his fifth win at the grueling Leadville 100 race this summer. "A lot of it is attitude. You are going to be as old as you think you are. I like to think I’m only 43."

Motivation is a varying characteristic among older athletes. For racers such as Carpenter, Kloser and Boettcher, it’s all about winning. Some race to win, but they race for other reasons. Wiens and Overend are so in love with riding, they will race long after they lose that perch on the top podium.

Winning for a cause
As for Sedalia runner Diane Van Deren, she races to win so that her message will be trumpeted.

A dozen years ago, surgeons told Van Deren her career as a pro tennis player was over. The chunk of seizure-scarred tissue they were carving from her brain would take with it her athletic excellence. Today, the 47-year-old mother of three is on track to become the most accomplished female endurance trail runner in the country.

Last month, she placed fifth overall at the 50-mile Dances With Dirt ultra in Hell, Mich., dominating the women’s field, setting a masters record and beating all but four of the male racers who lined up at the start.

She found herself grinning at the same panting question from several racers she passed: "Do you mind if I ask how old you are?"

"When I win, I use it as a tool to raise awareness of brain injuries. It’s not about me. It’s about what I can do with that win," says Van Deren, a North Face-sponsored runner who works closely with patients, administrators and doctors at Craig Hospital.

"I want to take a gift I have as an athlete and use it to the best of my ability. My legs are my voice."

Ditto for ultramarathoner Ulrich, who has raised more than $250,000 for the St. Lucy Filippini Health Center in Hamelmalo, Eritrea, through his tireless running and fundraising.

"When I was young, it was an ego thing – pushing myself to see what made me tick," Ulrich says.

"Then I got that figured out and found another motivation. Knowing I’m doing it for someone else keeps me going. If it was just for myself, I wouldn’t do it. I guess I’m kind of getting over myself."

 

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MATT CARPENTER, 43
Carpenter just changed his motto. It used to be:

"Go out hard. When it hurts, speed up."

Now it’s:

"Train like you’re young, and race like you’re young."

"I’m not making any concessions to age. I think the key word is denial," says the father of one, whose particular skill is running up and down mountains.

Carpenter says he is stronger than ever before, but maybe not as fast. Judging by his recent performance on his home hill, Pikes Peak – winning both the ascent and marathon in two days – it’s hard to see any declines in speed. Besides, a decline in Carpenter’s world means that his dominant wins are simply less dominating.

The 122-pound racer chooses his contests carefully and does not lose. Arguably the best mountain runner in the world, Carpenter logged a VO2 max of 90.2 in 1990, the highest ever recorded for a runner. (VO2 max is considered a benchmark of fitness and measures the amount of oxygen a person can extract from circulating blood and distribute to muscles during high exertion.)

Learn more about Carpenter, one of the more opinionated and colorful runners, at www.skyrunner.com.

 

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DAVE WIENS, 43
Wiens owns the Leadville 100 bike race.

The five-time winner of the ridiculously difficult race put a special effort into this summer’s competition, knowing that Floyd Landis, and possibly Lance Armstrong, would be racing.

For training this spring, he rode the Kokopelli Trail Race from Fruita to Moab – scorching the 142-mile desert race in 12 hours, 45 minutes.

It paid off. When push came to shove in the final leg of this year’s Leadville race, it was Landis pushing Wiens – and the Gunnison father of three boys shoved harder.

Born and raised in Denver, Wiens started racing pro after graduating from Western State College in 1988. Wiens officially "retired" from racing in 2004, but that was before the two-time national mountain biking champion won his four Leadville 100s, the inaugural 125-mile Vapor Trail Race and the Crested Butte Classic 100.

Obviously he has his own definition of "retired."

"It’s kind of an obsession. That’s a problem I have. I am going to have a hard time defining ‘the end,"’ he says. "While winning is certainly more fun, I think losing has way more to offer in terms of character building. I’m going to do Leadville until I get beat. And then I’ll probably do it again."

 

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BERNIE BOETTCHER, 45
Boettcher lives to run in the hills. Not just jogging, but racing and beating everyone who lines up against him.

During nearly five years of racing, the part-time artist from Silt has developed an encyclopedic knowledge of his rivals: their style, how they look when they are feeling strong, and more important, what they look like when they are suffering. Things like tilting their head back. Slowing the swing of their arms. And the most tell-tale sign, looking back over their shoulder.

"You know that that means? That means they’ve stopped racing. That’s when I make my move. For years I have worked on recognizing signs of weakness. I’m like a predator," he says, noshing on a buffalo burger after a quick 30-mile training run.

He makes sure to never develop a pattern his rivals could use against him, working feverishly to assure his strategy is never turned on him. His wife, Jeannie Blatter, is an equally gifted runner, and often the pair wake up Monday with pairs of matching medals. They both share an "excessive personality" that drives them to compete.

"Everything I do is designed to win at running," he says.

 

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MIKE KLOSER, 47
Kloser started pedaling his mountain bike competitively in the mid-’80s after living in the Vail Valley for several years.

He dabbled in the pro mogul skiing circuit for a while, winning a few national contests. But he found his calling hammering the knobby-tired ride, winning mountain biking’s pre-sanctioned world championships in 1988. The father of two teenagers who are emerging as top-tier athletes themselves, Kloser credits his longevity to his switch to adventure racing in 1997.

"Now everything I do outdoors is training," he says.

In the past decade, the 26-year Vail Resorts employee has earned the most wins in adventure racing history, captaining his Team Nike to five world titles, three Eco-Challenge wins and four Primal Quest championships.

Last year he won the U.S. Winter Triathlon Championship at Grand County’s Devil’s Thumb Ranch, confirming his reputation as one of the world’s top all-around outdoor athletes. He does it all and he wins, sporting an unnervingly placid "isn’t-this-fun" grin with every step.

His strategy: pray for the worst weather imaginable. "I really hope for adverse conditions. I relish those hard circumstances because I know rivals wither in those conditions," he says.

 

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DIANE VAN DEREN, 47
In April, Van Deren ran 47 hours, logging 150 miles without stopping.

On her final – and 15th – 10-mile lap at the McNaughton Park Trail Run in Illinois, race organizers began taking down ribbons marking the trail. After all, the racers had been there 14 times. Van Deren freaked out.

"Where’s the trail?" she screamed at the checkpoint staff. "I have a brain injury. I can’t remember!"

A flustered organizer joined her, running along the trail, pointing out the turns – and Van Deren set her record. Just like always.

After brain surgery 12 years ago, Van Deren must write notes on her hands and drop-bags on long-

distance runs. "Drink. Flashlight. Rain jacket." That keeps her focused on stuff like surviving while she stomps her way into history.

The mother of three – including a 19-year-old serving in Iraq – kept her surgery and seizure history secret during her first years on the competitive ultra circuit. When she established herself as a force, she came out and became one of the nation’s leading voices for brain-injury awareness.

She takes her role-model status as seriously as her training, which involves waking at 4 a.m. daily for trail runs that stretch past 30 miles.

"There are no shortcuts to what we do," she says. "It all comes from hard work, and we need to convey that message more clearly. It’s our obligation to set good examples."

 

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NED OVEREND, 52
Overend is the living legend of mountain biking. The Durango racer started his career on the highest step of the podium as a runner, logging top finishes at Imogene Pass in 1980 and 1981.

When he mounted a mountain bike in the early ’80s, he began a career that kicked off with wins at the inaugural world championships in Durango in 1990. From there, he went on to earn two world champion titles and six national crowns as well as dual nicknames: The Lung and Deadly Nedly.

He beat his own record at this summer’s Vail Hill Climb – part of the Teva Mountain Games – beating Floyd Landis with a blistering time of 27 minutes, 29 seconds on the 9.7-mile, 1,500-vertical-feet climb up Vail Pass.

"Avoiding injury is my key," he says. "If my knees get sore on a bike ride, I turn around and go home. I stand in freezing water a lot too: the Animas River, right here in town. I think that kind of ice bath is a good way to reduce inflammation and reduce the chance of injury.

"Injury means needing to take more time off, and that can lead to getting out of shape. You can’t be this old and get out of shape, because it takes so long to regain it."

 

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MARSHALL ULRICH, 56
Ulrich started running 26 years ago to handle stress as his first wife was dying of cancer. He ran a few marathons, barely dipping below the three-hour mark.

On a whim, he decided to run a 24-hour race in upstate New York in 1988. He won it, setting a record, and surprised himself by maintaining that three-hour marathon pace for the entire 24 hours. The father of three had discovered a rare ability to run for, well, forever.

In 2002 he began a quest he dreamed up at age 8: to climb all seven of the highest summits on the seven continents. It took him a mere 3 1/2 years.

Next spring, the lithe Ulrich will join renowned ultra runner Charlie Engle, 44, in an attempt to break the record for running across the United States. Starting in Seattle, the pair plan to run at least 68 miles – probably 15 to 17 hours a day – for 47 days, ending in Washington, D.C.

"There are lots of people out there who think it is extraordinary to go out and run 100 miles. For us it’s much more instinctive to do that instead of sitting on the couch drinking beer and watching a ballgame.

"We have this yearning. I always said I wanted to run into my 90s. Now I’m thinking I can do it into my 100s."

 

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A Guide to Some of the Best Marathons in North America

Picking a "best" marathon can be like finding a good piece of chocolate in a sampler box of candies: You either take the plunge–and possibly pay the price for it–or you rely on the advice of someone else who has eaten a piece before (or in this case, has done a particular marathon before). Here’s our advice on some of the best races in the country–all so you can match your tastes with a race. Now all you have to do is start training.

 

Best Rural Race: Napa Valley Marathon

You don’t need to be a pretentious snob with a lifetime subscription to Wine Spectator to understand the appeal of Napa. The race is miles of pristine rolling countryside (mustard fields that will later be replaced with grapevines), with only the last mile in town. The fast course requires a Herculean effort between several municipalities, and has 1,300 volunteers for a 2,300-person race. Runners get a plethora of perks in return for their entry fees.

"I think the most important thing is we treat every runner like they’re the only one in the race," says race co-director David Hill. www.napa-marathon.com.

Best Small-Town Race: Richmond, Virginia

Richmond is a smaller city that thinks big. Its marathon offers prize money and has many of the same features of Chicago or New York, but without the crowds. Instead, you’ll run by stately neighborhoods on tree-lined streets, albeit with a smaller audience.

"You get a lot more of the funky urban multicultural experience in Chicago," says Meg Daniel of Kennesaw, Georgia, who has run both. "In Richmond you get a little bit of everything else: the stately old neighborhoods, the quiet Zen-like tranquility of the river, and the historical in-town setting."

Plus, race directors entice marathoners with two dedicated "Junk Food" stops (miles 16 and 22), stocked with cookies, pretzels, Gummi Bears, soda and other sweets to keep runners on a high www.richmondmarathon.com.

Best Big-City Race: New York City

The New York City Marathon is doing what the city has always done–embracing those from abroad. New York’s field is comprised of a stunning 12,000 international runners, and the town welcomes them with some of the largest marathon crowds going (two million or so). The runners tours all five boroughs of the largest city in the U.S., and is one of only two marathons to garner national television coverage, which is why "big" doesn’t really do it justice. Now that ING is ponying up one of the largest prize purses in marathoning, look out: New York’s only going to get bigger. www.ingnycmarathon.org.

Best Destination: Honolulu

Here’s some running therapy for you: Think December. Think white sand, warm temperatures, the sound of waves lapping against the shore. Good. Next, visualize running in shorts while your friends back home are trying to find ways to keep their extremities warm. Now think fireworks over a pre-dawn sky, torch-lit roadways, Japanese banners, costumes and drums. Picture a long, dramatic uphill that will suck the wind out of your lungs, followed by a view that has a similar effect. The Honolulu Marathon is one of the world’s greatest spectacles of running. If you’re up for scenery and a wild time, this is the place. www.honolulumarathon.org.

Best Chance for a PR: Chicago

There are some obvious reasons why those seeking to catch lightning in a water bottle invade Chicago. The crowds are enormous, and no matter how fast you are, there’s someone to run with. The course is flat, which means even pacing–the best route to a PR. But there are other explanations why people speed here. An underrated one is that runners can walk out of their hotels, across the block and up to the starting line in Chicago. In many other "fast" marathons, you sit on a bus for an hour or more, then anxiously kill time (outdoors) in a temporary village that is often as welcoming as Amityville. Chicago removes a great deal of the stress before a marathon by nature of its loop course, which means you run relaxed. And when you run relaxed, you run very, very fast. www.chicagomarathon.com.

Toughest Marathon: Pikes Peak (Colorado Springs)

A race that began as a challenge between smokers and non-smokers, Pikes Peak has enough standing between you and the finish line without chronic emphysema.

"The joy of running the event is really overwhelmed by the agony of it," says Ron Ilgen, race director. "I was one of many who say while they’re running, I’ll never do this again.’"

But they just can’t stay away. Keith "Curly" McKenney of Georgia finished just four minutes before the cutoff. "Standing thereI could only think of how well we had all done, and how I never wanted to do that again." This year, he’ll attempt "The Double": the Pikes Peaks Ascent, Saturday, followed by the marathon (up AND down) on Sunday. If you think that’s brutal, try volunteering. Twenty-two garden hoses are hooked together to transport water to the last aid station. Then there’s the occasional snowstorm. It’s a world-class mountain race, but it’s still a mountain race. The point? Yes, you’re a badass if you run it, but know what you’re getting into before you decide to conquer Pikes Peak. www.pikespeakmarathon.org.

Most Charitable: Marine Corps (Washington, D.C.)

People can, and in fact are, raising money for charity at almost any marathon these days. Some have become destinations for charity groups; others are linked directly to organizations. Along those lines, Marine Corps staff have turned what used to be a sore spot for them (the difficulty of gaining entry) into a chance to do good: Raise money through one of their chosen charities and you receive a coveted race bib. So you can feel good about your race, even before the gun goes off. www.marinemarathon.com.

Most Legendary: Boston

The Boston Marathon has taken quite a beating recently–by the weather, by the press, by the inability of anyone not born in the Rift Valley to win the thing. Sure, it’s got some issues. Like the fact that the trip out to Hopkinton feels like a cross-country tour in your parents’ old station wagon, the one with vinyl seats and without air conditioning ("We’re on a pilgrimage to see a Moose!"). But this is still the granddaddy of them all–the one on every runner’s wish list, either to run in or to win. It’s a fabled course, steeped in history, and you feel its magnitude at the starting line. There’s just nothing like Boston. And until you’ve suffered through the journey like the rest of us, there’s a little piece of your running puzzle that’s missing. www.bostonmarathon.org.

Best New(er) Race: Baltimore

Baltimore, seemingly rife with orange cones and potholes, was not in the running for "Most Scenic Marathon" on our list. But it’s here because those in charge are determined to keep improving their race. Michael Shilling of New Jersey has run every Baltimore Marathon since it began in 2001.

"The beauty of this marathon lies in the fact that the race director and race management company listen to the runners," he says. "They have changed the marathon every year based on runner feedback."

That includes the course, which has been smoothed out since its inaugural year and starts and finishes at Baltimore’s coolest feature, the stadium area that houses both the Ravens and the Orioles. Note the plentiful pre-race restrooms, top-notch expo, swank race shirt (Under Armour is the main sponsor) and lots of spectators. www.thebaltimoremarathon.com.

Best Race at Altitude: Salt Lake City

Yes, the air is thin. Salt Lake City rests at around 4,500 feet. But the vociferous encouragement may make you forget that it feels like you’re breathing through a straw. "This town took ownership of the race from the time it was announced," says Jeff Wilson of Columbus, Ohio. "They took the race as their own and made it special."

"Special" included a finish through the Olympic Plaza and boisterous crowds, in addition to a race management company that sweated the details.

"Great races combine a tireless service to the athlete with an attitude of fun," says Wilson, a veteran of 31 marathons. "We’re all out there to celebrate the day, the sport and each other. The best (races) build on that." www.saltlakecitymarathon.com.

Most Scenic: Big Sur

So you know that car commercial, where a sedan is knifing down a two-lane road high above the ocean with some overdone Led Zeppelin song cranking in the background? You know how your eyes drift from the car you can’t afford, over to the dazzling view? That’s Big Sur, a breathtaking stretch of Northern California coastline. And you, my friend, are going to see it at a much more reasonable speed. Because as beautiful as it is, the Big Sur Marathon is also hilly, and no place to shoot for a PR. Looking west, that won’t matter much.

"Spending the better part of four hours watching the California coast is a pleasant way to spend a morning, even as the pain in my legs constantly increases," says Rick Swayne of Los Gatos, California, a regular here. Be sure to bring along a portable camera; you’ll want to document your slow, painful, gorgeous journey. www.bsim.org.

Best Place to Feel Like a Movie Star: Los Angeles

Drawn to the bright lights of show biz like a moth to a porch light? You’ll dig the 8:30 a.m. start (though some have complained of the heat). Love hearing people call out to you? The personalized bibs (with your first name in big letters) will be right up your alley. Dream of competing in a reality television show? Try crying at the end of a marathon in front of a grandstand full of beautiful people. Los Angeles makes you feel like a somebody.

"The city made such a big deal about it," says Kelli Picon of Greeley, Colorado, who ran the race in 2004. "There were posters all over L.A., Hollywood and everywhere else we went. We saw coverage of it on TV–it made us all feel very important." www.lamarathon.com.

Best Marathon/Vacation Combo: Vancouver, B.C.

It’s about time somebody recognized our neighbors to the north. Vancouver, whose marathon is typically at the end of April, is a beautiful historic city with a British feel and plenty of entertainment for everyone. The race itself is a well-organized, athlete- and spectator-friendly race that gives you a jumpstart on sightseeing. Plus, the hills aren’t so bad that you’ll have to spend the rest of your vacation holed up in the hotel. www.adidasvanmarathon.ca.

Best Race to Leave the Kids Behind: Las Vegas

Running is to Vegas as gambling is to the Vatican. Running means early mornings, carb-fests and sweat-drenched shirts. Vegas means sleepless nights, all-you-can-eat shrimp and sweat that smells like rum and Coke. Maybe that’s the allure: If you’re going to sacrifice your social life in the pursuit of endurance, you might as well celebrate the end of it all in Party Central. Tom Stieg of Washington state knows. He came up short of a Boston qualifier in a windy Vegas last year.

"I was so disappointed I didn’t get to Boston, I headed right for Monte Carlo Brewery and just went crazy," he says. "I was there for the rest of the day, still in my running stuff." Some runners say they come for the fast course. We say they’re bluffing. www.lvmarathon.com.

Best Race with a Half Marathon: Flying Pig (Cincinnati)

Many people don’t know that Cincinnati was once known as "Porkopolis," or that it houses one of the best rib joints in the country (a favorite of the late Bob Hope). In fact, pigs are ubiquitous in the ‘Nati; even the statue commemorating the city’s bicentennial has four winged swine on top of a riverboat’s smokestacks.

Now, for the first time, the Flying Pig Marathon (purveyor of one of the best medals on the circuit) serves up a half-slab of marathon in addition to the full slab. It’s a great addition for those who don’t quite have the appetite for all those hills. www.flyingpigmarathon.com.

Best Race Off the Radar: Cal International

This marathon is actually pretty well known, if you live west of Boise. But Cal International is held in December, after all of the major fall marathons have come and gone. To many runners east of the Rockies, it never crosses their minds. Their loss.

Cal International is one of the best point-to-point marathons going. It runs downhill from Folsom Dam to the center of Sacramento, and is impeccably organized. Typically good weather greets runners, as does a varied course, a fantastic finish line and good crowds — which makes Cal International a good change of scenery, or a great place to rebound from a fall marathon disaster. www.runcim.org.

Best Race That Lives Up to the Hype: Twin Cities

The Twin Cities Marathon lays claim to being the "Most Scenic Urban Marathon." Apparently, it’s all true. Talk to anyone who has run it, and it’s as though they’ve been hypnotized by the fall foliage and the pristine neighborhoods.

"I would say if you’re going to run a marathon in a city, you’d be hard-pressed to beat Twin Cities," says Jesse Pagels of Chicago, who has run all the big ones. Twin’s course traipses through stately neighborhoods, along the shoreline of the lake and on the banks of the Mississippi. But it’s not just scenery that draws people: Twin’s point-to-point course begins just outside the Metrodome, which means a cozy warm-up and plenty of restrooms. At the other end in St. Paul, the finish up Summit Avenue then down past the capitol is one of the most memorable in the country. www.twincitiesmarathon.org.

Biggest Bang for the Buck: Houston

Way back in the ’90s, the HP Houston Marathon was having an identity crisis. They were losing elite runners to other races, and registration was stagnant even as marathoning was experiencing a second boom. Enter new race director Steven Karpas, a runner with a marketing and finance background. Exit prize money for elites. Karpas and the marathon staff plugged that money back into runner benefits and race technology. For $65, each entrant gets a training T-shirt, official race T-shirt, finisher’s sweatshirt, finisher’s beer mug, finisher’s medal, finisher’s certificate and a hot breakfast at the finish line. Houston also helped pioneer the art of tracking runners online.

"We wanted to grow our race, and thought the one way to do that was if runners were direct beneficiaries of the aspects of the race," Karpas says.

It’s worked. Since 2001, the HP Houston Marathon has added a half marathon and 5K and has grown its participation to 18,000 total runners. The half marathon is the men’s national championship race, but every runner feels elite in Houston.

"Lots of races claim they do everything for the runners," says Randy Moore of Minneapolis, who ran Houston last year. "Houston lives up to everything it claims." www.hphoustonmarathon.com.

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Why I Tri

 By: Lori Epstein