Bataan Death March Marathon

After class on Friday I caught a ride to Los Angeles International Airport. After a couple of easy hours waiting in the terminal I caught my flight to Albuquerque. I landed, checked out my rental car and made my way out to the hotel where I was staying. The next day I woke up and headed toward White Sands Missile Range where the race was held. On the way I stopped at a rest area. I was struck by the beauty of the desert.





I continued on down interstate 25 towards La Cruces. I decided to turn off the interstate and head east toward the north end of the missile base. White Sands Missile Range is extremely large at over 100 miles in length. This turned out to be a terrible decision because evidently you can't enter the range at the north end. A somewhat friendly yet cautious guard turned me away and I headed towards the southern end from the outside. I had two possible routes, the faster less scenic route, and the more scenic slower route. I had time to spend sight seeing, so I opted for the later. I almost went to Roswell, but I hated the idea of spending more money on gas. I finally made my way to the Alamogordo gate, I realized that since I had failed to print out the pass that the race had e-mailed me, I had to return to the guard station where I could be provided with a vehicle pass. I made my way into the base and to the community center where the packet pick-up was being held. I was expecting a line but not to the extent which was present.

I overheard from people behind me that there were over six thousand people participating in the march and marathon. That was astounding to me, considering the location. None the less I waited in line for an hour and a half before reaching the front of the line. Everything seemed to be run in an orderly fashion not unlike the military. During the early part of the race packet pick-up a race volunteer mentioned that if I was to be staying off of the installation I would have to reach the gate at 4 AM. That sounded mildly unpleasant to me. It was soon after that I decided to camp in my rental car. I attended a prerace pasta dinner and decided to find a good place to park my car for the night. I decided to park at the barracks and prepare for the night. With an almost unbearably I endured the night and awoke at 4:30 AM to the sound of my alarm. I dressed and drove to the Frontier Club, which housed the pasta dinner the night before. There were already hundreds of people idling around waiting for the start. I prepared everything and packed away loose items in the rental car before heading off into the almost encampment. A half an hour before the race began the sounds of bagpipes rang over the entire crowd. I had to see what this was about. There was a troop of bagpipe players, I found that mildly interesting. Soon the race briefing started and there was a role call for the survivors and those who passed on, then then a flyover from the nearby Holloman Air Force Base.



Then over the PA system there was a call to head towards the starting line. The organization was a little lacking considering the race organizers put together a listing of who goes first and who goes second. Never the less everyone moved together in a large clump through the starting chute. The first couple miles were overcrowded, and the terrain was smooth. I passed hundreds of marchers, I never once lost respect for anyone of them marching 26 miles in uniform with boots and all. However we were continually moving towards the less crowded open desert. After 3 or 4 miles on pavement we headed off towards the trail. I moved along quite quickly however tough the hills and sand of the trail. I was increasingly becoming tired, but I decided to push myself and hope for the best. I failed to bring any salt and I hoped that the race had decided to take that into consideration. The race had started cold but as the race progressed the desert began to show itself. I took off my jacket long ago and had it wrapped around my waist. Before I knew it I had reached 13 miles. My race was counting down. I was heading up a long hill when I heard a familiar voice, it was a fellow 50 state runner Steve Hughes. We met up and seemed to have the same objective, merely to finish. We went on and talked about past experiences and our future goals. Time seemed to fly by and we talked and laughed. Soon we both became somewhat in need of walking time. We decided to walk and run off and on for a while. Finally we reached the last mile and a half. I had plenty of energy and I was ready to sprint into the finish. I said my farewell and we departed. I took off as fast as I could and moved towards the finish feverishly checking my watch. Before I even realized it I turned a corner and was greeted by a few spectators telling me that the finish was around one more corner. I moved faster than before, and turned the corner. I sprinted into the finish. The clock read 5 hours and 56 minutes.