Marla's Last Race

Marla Runyan remembers her visit to Minnesota in 2006.  It was the last race of her competitive career and she went out in style.   She won the women's title at the Medtronic Twin Cities Marathon.

Marla winning the 2006 TCM

"It was 13 months to the day from the birth of my daughter," said Runyan.  "I was still nursing.  I hadn't slept through the night.  I was hoping I could fit into my uniform."

While her personal best for the marathon was 2:27:10, a 5:37 per mile pace, she calculated that being able to run 5:45 per mile(2:30:39 pace) would be great.  That was what she hoped to do.  Her vision deficit, however, posed certain unique problems/obstacles.  "I can't see the clocks," she said of the large electronic LED devices set up at the mile marks along the 26.2 mile route that displayed the approximate race time, so they could figure out what pace they were running.

She told the race officials she was worried about being able to get mile splits.  They told her that they would have volunteers at each clock who would be yelling out the time as the runners went past.  Buoyed by this information, Marla came upon the first mile check point and there was indeed a volunteer stationed there.  Instead of the time, however, the volunteer shouted: "Way to go!  Keep it up!"

OK, Marla thought, I'll get what I need at the next mile.  She got there.  Another volunteer shouted: "Way to go!  Keep it up!"  "I never got my time," said Runyan.  OK, she thought, they also told her that there would be a lead cyclist in front of the lead men and women in the race who could also relay time information.  "We'll go with that," she said to herself.  "I have to lead the race."  Miles two, three, and four passed, no bike.

But then she heard a couple of people talking behind her.  There was someone on a bike.  She turned and asked: "Excuse me, are you the lead bike, can you come up and lead."  He couldn't  because of issues with pacing, assistance rules, the bikes can't go in front of the runners.  No times.  Then, just before the ten mile mark, she was passing a man and thought, "Great, I can ask him what the time is."  "No Eng laze, no English," was his response.

Frustrated, she told herself: "You know, I am just going to win this race."  But at the halfway point of the race "somehow my husband had made it there," and he told her the time: 1:14:35.  It was the only split she got in the race.  Undaunted, she kept going, pushing through the pain and discomfort of the final miles, down the hill from the St. Paul Cathedral toward the finish.  As they approached the finish, however, the lead bike went by and peeled off to the side. Thinking she had to follow the bike and not being able to recognize the finish, she followed the bike, which was heading off the course before the finish as instructed.

People began yelling: "No, Marla. No Marla!" guiding her back toward the finish line.  There she raised her hands, broke the tape. Despite all the obstacles, she finished in 2:32:17, winning by over a minute.  As she came through the chute and into the elite finish tent, the caregiver who was taking care of her daughter came up to Marla and said her daughter was hungry.  Sorry, Marla told her: "I'm closed.  I'm not available."

On this occasion, her daughter would have to make due with bottled milk.