Some pretty average people run marathons — but you rarely read about them.

Sports writers can be found putting elite athletes on pedestals and attaching labels to them like "true" marathoner. And great for them — they worked hard to make it to the top.

But the Deseret Morning News/KJZZ-TV marathon Thursday brought out the likes of Jay Evensen, Jason Swensen, Andrea Christensen and yours truly. Our bond is that we all work for this paper — and that we, also, are true marathoners.

You've never read about us in the sports pages, though, because we're like the hundreds of others who completed the marathon Thursday.

For whatever reasons we average runners have mustered to sign up for a marathon, we end up racing against ourselves and our own limitations, physical, psychological and emotional.

Take Evensen. He's a tall, thin guy — lost a lot of weight. Wife, kids. Writes editorials here. Smart guy. Rides the train to work.

"Does it ever get any easier?" he asks while sitting on a bench in the shade of Liberty Park, feeling a little light-headed.

Well, no. Just different. Each marathon is its own animal. Different courses — some painfully hilly, like Thursday's marathon. The weather is almost never the same. Each race a new test.

Then there's the runner. You might have diarrhea one race, a nagging injury in another. You might cramp up, get dehydrated or even lose your will to finish.

Evensen finished his first marathon this week and is already signed up for another in Arizona.

Swensen. Works in Church News. Family man. Average build. Above-average drive. Tough guy, when you consider this "recreational runner" ran more in a day than most people run in a year.

"It's one of those kind of mythical accomplishments, to run a marathon," he said after the race. It's an achievement that "everyday people," like himself, can work toward.

He "plods" mostly to keep the gut at bay, but already he's thinking of doing another marathon.

Christensen. A 22-year-old intern fresh out of BYU. Petite. Freckled, fair skin. Doesn't have that tan or sunken cheeks like a lot of competitive female runners who have a lot of time to train outside.

Last year, though, she conquered the Utah Grand Slam — five marathons in a year, all in Utah. Four-hour marathoner. Self-described "total dork" due to her penchant for reciting inspirational poetry aloud while running alongside total strangers.

"The hills ahead look hard and steep and high/And often we behold them with a sigh," are lines she likes.