I started running for the same reasons most people do – to drop some pounds, feel better, and give this bored guy something to do. Most people lose interest in running after a while, but I caught the competitive bug. I got to a point where I wanted to see if I could add an extra mile, if I could lower that mile pace time, if I could complete a 10K. When I started racing I was hooked and always looking to perform at my best.
Some people can enter a race and not actually race it, but not me. I need to know how I did against others, against the clock, and against my previous efforts. How else do you know how well you are performing if you aren’t comparing yourself to those parameters?
When I race I have found over the years that I will be in the upper middle of the pack, somewhere around 25-30% of the field. This plays out during the race and is very apparent in the results at the end of the race. I have finished in first place overall once, been a top-three age grouper in many other races, and have been squeaked out of a podium finish many, many times. There is always a post-race analysis of the finisher results for me. How did I do overall? How did I do against the other males? Against the other age groupers? Against my past efforts? But does the analysis make me feel any better? Generally, I’m happy to receive any award at all, and if I do better than the average then I am content. However, if I just miss out on getting on the podium, I am going to mull that over for a while. What if I hadn’t pushed too hard at the beginning of the race? What if I didn’t waste so much time in transition from swim to bike? Where could I have gotten faster?
I read an interesting article (Inc. Magazine – Haden, Jeff) today about how counterfactual thinking can affect your happiness. In the article, it points to a study in which the faces of the gold/silver/bronze medallists at the 1992 Summer Olympic Games were examined to determine who was the happiest. Of course, the gold medal winner was happy. But the big surprise was that the bronze medalists were almost always more happy than the silver medalist. The gold medalists came out on top and were super happy. The bronze medalist is the one who beat out all the rest to be in the top three. But the silver medalist is the one who will be thinking about what went wrong.
Counterfactual thinking is an interesting concept. Basically with counterfactual thinking, you find yourself wondering “what if?” in certain outcomes and play out alternatives in your mind. The silver medalists will use upward counterfactual thinking, judging themselves only against the gold medal winner according to the article. They will dwell on the second-place finish, thinking about what they needed to do to win. The bronze medalists often employ downward counterfactual thinking, comparing themselves to the others who missed out on the podium. They are elated not to be in that group. Whew! Pretty interesting concept.
Although I think I’m aging past the point of dwelling on my placement in the field, there’s still the old guy age group that makes a difference for me. But now I have a little more insight into how to make myself feel better about my performances. Being thankful to still be in the hunt is feeling pretty good right now.
A first-place a/g win and two second-place a/g wins at Manteno Triathlon over the years. I think I look pretty happy in all three!
Earlier this year I struggled with some butt pain, essentially some high hamstring tendonitis that was not going away. I took time off from running, did a whole bunch of stretching, and finally got myself back to feeling pretty good – good enough to start running again without the tendonitis bothering me. And then I went and raced a sprint triathlon.
If there’s anything that will do me in is pushing myself too hard, and I when I sign up for a race, I plan on racing it at my hardest and best effort. I had tested myself a little leading up to the race and had no issues really. And even during the race and the day after, I had no ill effects. I felt great. So great in fact, that I thought why not switch to the marathon training plan and stop following the Ironman training plan that I was using to train for my fall marathon. After all, the sprint triathlon was over, I wasn’t sore or hurting, and really felt like I was ready to add some more running intensity. So instead of taking Monday off, I ran a four-mile run and pushed a little in the last mile per the plan, and that’s when I felt the butt pain again. Oopsie… oh, well – back to the drawing board.
I think I will bounce back a little quicker this time, knowing that rest and stretching was the combo that worked the best for me earlier in the spring. I’ll have to take a little time off from running again, stretch more, and keep putting my butt back on the bike to keep my cardio fitness going. And I will rotate the Ironman training plan back to the front. I need the cross-training to keep me from overdoing the running.
There’s still plenty of time to get ready for the Chicago Marathon in October. I just have to stop doing foolish things and stay away from things that will derail me. No more oopsies!
One of the finishing photos from last weekend’s race. I actually don’t look fat here.
A lot can happen in three years. I certainly changed in that short period, taking time off from almost any type of race that involved going fast, and concentrating on going long and slow. But as I claw my way back into shorter and faster races, I find it difficult to get back to where I was. The Forge Gravel Triathlon has also changed since the last time I did it, adding a very technical (i.e. scary hard) section to the run course that involved a lot of walking and praying that I wouldn’t fall. I ended up with a time about 5.5 minutes slower than in 2021, which I can’t be too upset about. I’m actually somewhat impressed that I held it together through the last mile of the run. It wasn’t easy.
All set up and waiting for the start.
As I drove over a very potholed road into The Forge on Friday to pick up my race packet, I was reminded that this road is part of the course, and it was going to need my full attention on race day. I was up at 4 am on Saturday to get ready for the race. The drive to Lemont was an easy trip and I parked in my usual spot at Lemont HS and rode my bike into the park along the I & M Canal trail. Once there I racked my bike, set up my transition area, then started taking in the important Swim Out, Bike Out, and Run Out portions of transition. That led me to discover that the run-out now takes a narrow path, winding around and eventually dumping you on the trail. I decided a warm-up jog was in order, and headed down the trail to see what parts were changed and what to expect. I saw my friend Tony walking down the path and we exchanged pleasantries. He was there to volunteer as a lifeguard in a kayak, which is very much appreciated. He has a super-packed race schedule this year, so I was a little surprised that he finds time to volunteer for stuff like this.
Back to the warm-up jog, it led me to a very technical portion of the park that is used for mountain biking. It had steep drops and climbs, with many rocks and other gnarly stuff. I “jogged” through some of it until I finally decided I had seen enough and returned to prep for the race.
I saw another friend Leah, and I asked her husband Steve if he was wearing “the shirt”. “Oh yeah, I’m wearing it!” He wears this shirt that says “I DON’T DO MARATHONS, I DO A MARATHONER” to all her events and it gives me a chuckle every time. Leah and I chatted about our nervousness and then got ready.
Even though the water was 75 d. F. and wetsuit legal, I opted for my Roka swimskin, a sort of swim outfit that is supposed to reduce drag in the water. I love my wetsuit, but struggling to get it off after a swim can be a chore.
I was one of the first triathletes to head down to the swim start area and I found myself first in line in Wave 2. Looking at some of the athletes behind me had me thinking that I should probably move back, but I kept my spot and waited for the start. After the Elite Wave group of about 10-12 started, we all started to make our way to the dock and jump in, separated by about 5 seconds. It was a good swim for me – the water was a good temperature, I settled into my pace easily and had zero contact. I started to tire and felt a little out of breath on the last section heading back to the dock, but I got through it fine. SWIM TIME: 13:36
Into T1, I easily unzipped my swimskin and lowered it to my midsection, while sitting down, drying my feet, putting on socks/shoes, grabbing my helmet and bike, jogging to Bike Out, and then I realized I hadn’t fully taken off the swimskin! I stopped, leaned my bike against the fence, stripped it off, tossing it back to my transition area, and then off on my way to ride. T1 TIME: 2:32
I redlined the ride in true Gunner fashion. I was breathing heavily and my legs were screaming at me, but I soon found myself concentrating on my line on this twisty-turning trail and looking out for others as well. I passed a few and had a few pass me, but still felt like I was giving it my best effort. I knew that I wanted to press hard here and try to gain some time advantage because I knew I would be walking some of the run. BIKE TIME: 37:21
T2 was quick for me! It took me all of 44 seconds to rack my bike, take off my helmet and cycling shoes, put on my running shoes, grab my bib belt and visor while running to Run Out. I’m usually not that quick! T2 TIME: 0:44
A photo of the early part of the run course. The gnarlier stuff came later.
Once on the run I secured my bib belt, got my visor on, and carefully jogged through the opening path leading to the trail. It helped me settle down a little. As I got to the flat main trail, I started pushing pace and was doing quite well. Fortunately, a volunteer directed me over a bridge or I would have blown straight past her, cleaving off about 2/3s of a mile from the course. I was running pretty well on the flat trail and when I got to the technical part the walking began. There’s no way you could run up these little hills. On one of them, I was almost crawling up it. Fortunately, I didn’t have any mishaps and was about to finish that section when I heard a guy yelling about being confused about where to turn. I found that the run course was pretty clearly marked with arrows, but could understand how someone could get confused. He had been ahead of me, so I told him to follow me and got him going in the right direction again. I hit the gas for the last half mile back and finished pretty strongly. RUN TIME: 26:23
I was recovering a little past the finish line when I had a guy come up and ask me if my watch showed three miles. I informed him that it did and he said that he only had two miles recorded for the run. Five minutes later, a young lady also inquired about the run distance, saying she only had done two miles. Things were starting to get a little weird. It wasn’t long after the race that the race director grabbed a microphone and explained that somehow an arrow on the course had been moved, directing runners in the wrong direction. He advised that he couldn’t change the results, but if anyone in the crowd was aware that their run was short by a mile, to do the right thing and let him know. I didn’t see anyone approach him.
That somewhat explains the difference in my finish place compared to 2021. I finished 22nd overall in that race, and finished 60th in this one! And to add insult to injury, I placed 5th in my age group, but when I looked at the results, it was pretty clear that at least two of them had questionable run times. I should have been 3rd overall in the age group. I was robbed of an A/G spot!!! Oh well, it’s not that big of a deal. The bigger picture is that I raced well, felt good about my performance, and had a great time.
It was nice to get back to racing triathlon again.
My gravel bike has been my riding choice this year, as it is more versatile and the tri-bike hangs in the garage, needing a tune-up and a reason to do it. Most of my weekday rides have been in the 20-25 mile range and I have stayed mainly on the local paved trail. Some of it is smooth as butter, but most of the portions of the trail have cracks and bumps, which are hard to avoid. And every bump lately has also come with a loud Ka-KLUNK! The sound was curious at first, causing me to wonder about it, but also to completely ignore it. But on my ride on Thursday, the sound was really bugging me.
The sound sometimes sounded like it came from the front fork, other times it was the back of the bike. But it seemed to echo through the carbon fiber frame of my bike. I tried coasting over bumps – Ka-KLUNK! I tried riding faster over bumps – Ka-KLUNK! I removed my water bottle – Ka-KLUNK! I checked and tightened all my screws – Ka-KLUNK! I removed the top tube bag which contains a bunch of stuff – Ka-KLUNK! One last thing to check was the saddle bag, which includes my flat repair tools – BINGO! No more Ka-KLUNK! It was a little surprising because it was tucked very tightly under the saddle and packed so full of junk that nothing loose could have been moving around. I added a piece of foam between the bag and saddle for now and have been riding Ka-KLUNK-free.
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I had gotten a couple of flats while riding on the tarred and chipped roads we have around here, and the inspection of my rear tire showed considerable wear on it. Little pointy rocks on the road and on the crushed limestone paths were easily causing small cuts and piercing my tube. I ended up buying a new tire to replace it. Replacing the tire was not easy. I got the old tire off easily enough, but the new tire was not going on at all. My son was called in to assist and we both struggled to get this tire on the wheel. We were eventually able to muscle it on, but it left me thinking about how hard it would be to fix a flat while out riding by myself.
I was scrolling through Reddit and saw a post on r/bikewrench from a guy who was having the same issue – couldn’t get the tire on the wheel. One guy responded that he could get it on in about 30 seconds. Others chimed in with the same advice the 30-second guy had and I was embarrassed to admit I had not heard of these instructions before. I bought a new matching tire for the front wheel and it went on much easier, and without having to call for assistance.
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One of the reasons to replace the front tire to match the back was to avoid looking silly, but also because I am doing my first triathlon in 3 years next weekend! Yes, I’m racing a gravel/off-road triathlon next Saturday and the tires I have added to the bike should make for good traction at this course. It’s a crushed limestone path with lots of turns, so hopefully I won’t have any problems negotiating those turns.
I found myself looking at the participant’s list, hoping to see if I knew any other locals racing, but couldn’t resist taking a peek at what the competition looked like in the M60-64 age group. There was one guy I found who had a very similar finish time to me and I figured he was my main competition. I searched his name and found that he’s a triathlon coach. Great. Well, I’m still going to give it a good effort and try to be competitive, despite trying to ease back into it after having hamstring injuries earlier this year. While I was on vacation, I was able to ride 10 miles in about 35 minutes and run 3 miles in about 25, so I’m not too far from my race pace effort.
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Speaking of coming back from injuries, I have been doing much better. After my above-mentioned 25-mile bike ride on Thursday, I followed it up with a 9-mile run on Friday. I fully expected to be sore and have to run a little slower on a rather warm and humid day. But I was surprised to be running very well and pushed a good effort through 6-7 miles before the heat made me dial it back. I’m glad that the stretching and smart training I have done has made a difference. I just got to keep it up and not do something stupid like racing.
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There’s a new Ironman 70.3 in Rockford, Illinois next year and of course, I had to sign up for it! Feeling good about riding and running again, and since this race is fairly close to me, I decided that this is would be a good reentry point. It’ll be a fun time!
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I haven’t told the wife yet, but I signed up for the Broken Anvil Backyard Ultra yesterday. The race director said it was filling up and was capped at 100 participants. So I checked and saw that it had 79 runners so far and figured why not sign up? The race falls about 3 weeks out from the Chicago Marathon, so I can use it as my last long training run before then. I really like the backyard format and this race has been fun the past two times I have done it. I got through 50 miles in 2022, and 37 miles in 2023, so I’ll play it by ear and try to have some fun without wrecking myself.
I’d better tell the wife that I signed up. She hates it when she finds out on Facebook. If I don’t break it to her soon, you might hear a Ka-KLUNK! from my skull.
The plan that I follow for triathlon training includes a bike workout immediately followed by a run on Wednesdays. Triathletes call this type of workout a “brick,” which basically means two workouts stacked together, or the way your legs feel when you get off the bike and attempt to run on them. It’s a tough workout, but by the end of the plan, you will be in a much better position to run well without the heavy legs you experienced initially.
The plan doesn’t say to go hard, but I always tend to let it rip. I will push hard on the bike, quickly transition to running gear, and then head out for the short run. It’s a good way to measure fitness and readiness for racing sprints. Today was the first brick workout I have done in quite a while, and I really shouldn’t have pushed very hard, but old habits die hard with me. I went hard on the bike for 12.6 miles, averaging 16.6 mph. That average pace is a little slow when you factor in the many slowdowns and stops for road crossings on the local bike trail. It’s probably more like 17-17.5 mph effort-wise.
The run was definitely a surprise. After struggling with a 5-mile run on Tuesday and feeling sore, I began the 2-mile planned brick run just hoping to not ruin myself. It started out as I expected with heavy legs and the overwhelming feeling that my calf muscles could go to Charley Horse mode at any time. But I slowly moved along until I felt like I was out of danger. The first-mile split showed a surprising 8:15 pace! The route I took was a little downhill and I struggled a little more with the second mile running back home. Again to my surprise, I ran an 8:11 min/mile. Yesterday I was lucky to average a 9:30 pace.
Post-workout I felt pretty good, without any soreness at all. Doing bricks and pushing pace is not something that I want to do more than occasionally, but I’m glad to see where I stand with my fitness, as I will do similar distances in the upcoming Forge off-road triathlon race next month. Back to my regularly scheduled training!
Today marks the start of training for the 2024 Chicago Marathon! Sixteen weeks of training, and I kicked it off with a… swim?
Yes, I started with a swim. I have had a fairly rough go with running this year and was forced to hit the reset button. After taking basically two months off from running during March-April-May, I slowly started easing my way back into it. But boy, has it been a slow recovery.
I was dealing with an injury that I self-diagnosed as high hamstring tendonitis, and took some time off from running to help my old tendons and muscles recover. I have recovered enough now that I can do five miles pretty well, albeit much slower than I would like. I ran eight miles the other day and felt pretty beat up afterward, so instead of starting training with a bang, I better ease into it.
In the past, I had used an advanced plan to train for the marathon and it worked pretty well for me. But I really saw success when I was also training for triathlon, specifically Ironman. My three best marathon times were all done in the same year that I had trained for an Ironman. So I thought that maybe I might use the Ironman training plan to prepare me for the fall Chicago Marathon.
The main reason why following a triathlon-based training plan would be beneficial for me is because running is tough on my body, and at 60 years old, it isn’t getting any less tough. By following the triathlon plan, I have to spread my workouts over three disciplines and not just one. This should allow me to build cardiovascular conditioning through swimming and biking, as well as running, without putting all of that on just running.
To make it even a little less taxing, I will be following the “just finish” plan, which is a beginner-type plan instead of the advanced or competitive plan that I would normally follow. I can always up the training another notch if I feel like it is going well, but I really don’t want to have to hit that reset button again. Also, I have signed up for a sprint triathlon in July and I need to prepare for that too. I must admit that I enjoyed my swim today, and I have really enjoyed the biking that I have done as well.
I’m not setting any time goals, or shooting for a Boston Marathon qualifying time – I just hope to run strong and finish well. So, hopefully, all of this will work out and I will find some success in sixteen weeks. Chicago Marathon 2024, here I come!
My wife and I head to northern Wisconsin every spring to get our lake home ready for summer, mowing the grass and picking up the hundreds of sticks that seem to gather on the ground. Memorial Day weekend is the perfect weekend for that getaway.
After getting all the chores done and taking a relaxing boat ride on Saturday, the following Sunday was the perfect time to drive to the local trail and get in a short run. As we approached the trailhead the parking lot was packed, and clearly there was a running event going on. I figured it was probably a 5K, so we made the decision to drive up the road to where a street crosses the trail, park, and start our run there. As we parked, we could still see runners heading back into town with race bibs on but it was pretty thinned out. We started running the other direction on the trail and I asked someone what race was going on and she said that it was a 5K/half-marathon/marathon. Here we were crashing another Minocqua trail race.
I’ve done this inadvertently before a few times. Heading up north for Memorial Day and Labor Day generally means I have work around the house to do, and if I run, it’s just to get a training run in – racing is never on my mind. But both holidays seem to have a big race going on. One year I was doing a 20-mile training run while the No Frills Marathon was going on. I got to run with a few of those runners too. Hopefully I will remember and have enough training under my belt to join in officially.
Kari and I were getting lots of “looking good” and “way to go” comments even though we weren’t in the race.
As we headed out most of the runners coming toward us were wearing the half-marathon bibs, and one runner was carrying a 2:00 hour pacing sign, so mostly mid-pack runners at that point. Then came a biker with another runner with a different bib. The leader of the marathon had just run by – with bleeding nipples. Even the elite runners still make the mistake of neglecting to tape the nips!
Kari decided to turn around after a little more than 2 miles, and I said that I’d run another 1/2 mile and then turn around. Just before I turned around I saw another marathoner heading back in, who was clearly struggling. I caught up to him as he was walking and I asked him if he was in the marathon. He replied that he was. I then said to him that he was the number two overall runner, that he had about a 5K to go, and that there was an aid station just ahead. He replied that he was feeling okay, just tired, and that he appreciated the pep talk. I said that I’d hate for him to get passed and lose a podium spot, and offered to pace him a little. He started running again and I picked up my own pace to make sure he got to the aid station. He took on some water and sports drink and I figured at that point he was looking good again.
It wasn’t long after that the third overall marathon leader and the first place woman runner caught me and passed me. This was turning into a very tight battle for second place. She was wearing earbuds, so I’m not sure if she could hear me, but I informed her that she was in third overall and that she had a good chance of catching the guy I was pushing to finish strong and not get caught! I always root for the underdog, and love to inspire someone to go for it.
I finished my 5 miles and went home and checked the results. Sure enough, the guy had enough left in the tank to hold off the hard charging top woman. I googled his name and saw that he was a rower at UW-Madison, so maybe not a runner, but an athlete who runs well for sure.
So as a reminder to myself, if I’m running well again this fall, I’m going to try to participate and not just crash the race.
I was on an ultramarathon Reddit page when I made a comment on a post about underestimating ultramarathons, mentioning how I felt ultras were more difficult than Ironman was for me. Then there was this reply to my comment:
“How do you know when someone has done an Ironman? Don’t worry, they’ll tell you.”
This is an old joke, and probably pretty fitting for most of us Ironman finishers. The guy thought that he was pretty witty I guess, even though it wasn’t even an original joke. Some people just feel the need to belittle others. I initially took his comment as an insult and then told him to stick it, and he then confirmed his insulting nature by trying to belittle me some more. A bully hiding behind his keyboard that I didn’t waste any more time on.
But it got me wondering if it was true? Could I be a little over the top with Ironman pride? Yeah, guilty as charged. I’m proud of being an Ironman, damn proud of it actually. It was something that I never thought was possible for me. I couldn’t swim 100 yards in a pool without stopping, and the thought of biking more than a century and then running a marathon after all of that – used to boggle my mind. I would watch the Ironman race on television and think that these people were superhuman.
Most finishers feel the accomplishment is worthy of celebration. We buy the gear – and wear it. We refuse to take off the athlete wristband for weeks after the race is over. Some follow a long-held tradition of getting the “M-dot” tattoo, usually on the right calf. Talk about telling others that you are in an elite club.
But this is not the first time I got the feeling that I need to dial it back. After my first finish, I took to wearing my new Ironman Wisconsin hoodie, the one with the athlete names on the back of it, every chance I could. Another dad, who liked to raze me, mentioned that I was wearing that hoodie – AGAIN. Touché, but did I dial it back?
Heck no! One Ironman finish became two, then three, four, and currently I am up to five. I wear the finisher jackets, the Ironman hats, t-shirts, and hoodies. I drink my coffee from my Ironman race mugs. I started this blog to document the training and the racing, but there’s definitely some level of pride going into it. I want the memories to be there for me when I am older. Although I write them for myself, others visit the site, looking for race insights and maybe some inspiration. I like to write about running, triathlon, and Ironman, I’m not making any excuses for bragging a little.
At home, it may even be worse. I have a room dedicated to running medals, race posters, and memorabilia. I have a similar shrine to myself in my office at work. Guilty, guilty, guilty.
My shrine to myself at work.
I’m not sure if there are many more races in the cards for me. I may not earn another Ironman finisher medal, jacket, name t-shirt, hat, or plaque with pictures of me working hard to earn those things and that title of Ironman. I’m going through some injuries right now and realize that I will get over them, but at 60 it’s not getting easier. So I will look back on those five Ironman finishes and cherish them, and maybe brag a little about it.
As they say, “Suffer for 140.6 miles, brag for a lifetime.”
If there’s one thing I consistently do as a runner it’s having bad ideas and then acting on them. On Thursday I had already decided to skip this race having dealt with high hamstring tendonitis for over a month, a lack of running for three weeks, and the weather showing rain and snow the day before. Since this trail race has many stretches of dirt sections, I didn’t want to deal with it being muddy. But on Friday I opted for an easy 3 miles on the treadmill and found that my butt pain from the tendonitis wasn’t any worse for it, planting the bad seed in my head. What if I show up and just take it easy? Walk the hills, run slow, and have a plan to bail if things turn bad. And that’s how bad ideas get acted upon.
Saturday morning was the complete opposite of Friday weather-wise. It was bright and sunny and not horribly cold. I picked up my race packet and then milled around the start line waiting for the start. I joked with the race director that at least it wasn’t last year with its stupid 11 degrees F. at the start. Or the year before last, a mudbath of a run.
The countdown began and I thought about how I bolted from the start last year and led the race briefly. Maybe I could lead this race for a bit this year too! I took my spot on the line, but I wasn’t alone there this year. I was out-bolted by a woman who looked to be taking the race very seriously, and she would end up finishing third overall. Well, that was one bad idea averted.
The previous day’s weather left a small amount of an icy snow-like covering which was melting quickly. I’d rather my feet get wet as I progressed through the race and not at the start, but here I was dealing with wet toes not even a 1/4 mile into it. Thankfully, I had applied plenty of lube to my feet for just that reason.
As we got to the first hill, I decided to implement my hill-walking strategy. The hills aren’t overly difficult, but rather just a bunch of rollers one after another. By the time three miles had been run, I felt like I had warmed up somewhat, both overall and with my butt tendonitis, making running seemingly okay. I must be doing things right. About four miles into the run I decided that the windbreaker of a jacket needed to go, so I stopped at a little table that was unmanned and had a jug or two of water sitting on it. I took off my jacket and a couple of upcoming runners gave me a hearty “THANK YOU!” mistaking me for a volunteer. “Guys, I’m running too – but you’re welcome!” It lifted my spirits.
Soon afterward, I got to an open area and the cold headwind made my sweaty body rethink taking the jacket off, but I knew I’d be back in the woods soon. Passing a very vocal volunteer aid station, I was high-fived by a toddler who was enjoying his moment and headed into the technical part of the run.
An hour into the run, I ate one of the two gels I had brought along to keep me fueled for the run and tried to concentrate on my footstrike as I ate it. As I went to put the wrapper back into the pocket of my handheld water bottle, I realized that the second gel was not there. I thought I might be in bad shape without it, and I could have dropped it within the last quarter mile, but I decided to keep pressing on instead of doubling back to look for it. They will have something at the aid station to eat in less than two miles.
I pressed on and soon saw my bad influence of a friend Jodi, returning back toward the start finish. She was in the 50K and had an hour head start on me. She was walking and acting like she was in some pain, and I thought that maybe I might catch her before I finished if she truly was suffering. Fat chance, as I later saw her again with a mile to go running just fine. She’s not a quitter.
I was running through the area where I had tripped and fallen the year before, but I never saw the root that had tripped me up. The course was in better shape than the past two years, and there weren’t really any hidden dangers. I kept stepping on little sticks that would then be elevated and I would catch my trailing foot on them, almost tripping myself three times, but I was never really concerned with actually falling this year.
I had been running by myself for quite a while, nobody directly ahead of me or behind me and wasn’t really sure where I was in the field. At the 7.75-mile turnaround, I refilled my water bottle, grabbed a mini Snickers bar as a replacement for my lost gel, and then headed back toward the start. I was very surprised by the many runners still heading to the turnaround. I thought I had been bringing up the rear of this race.
I was feeling pretty good but decided I needed to hold back any uptick in pace until I was closer to three miles to go. As I neared the spot where I lost my gel I kept my eyes on the ground looking for it and when it appeared in the mud I literally shouted “YES!” and stopped to pick it up. The runner behind me was a little surprised at my enthusiasm at this spot in the race, but I explained how I had just found the gel I had lost and that it may be vital to me finishing the race.
At that point, I had a little surge of adrenaline and realized that this guy could be a good pacer for me. I matched his pace for a while, but as we hit the technical hills, he was more adventurous than I was and bounded up and down them with ease, whereas I exerted caution to not fall and break something.
I was starting to feel the effect of the hills and getting a little low on energy. At two hours into the run, I decided to eat my recovered gel. As I was eating it, another runner overtook me and I could tell he was probably in my age group. We chatted a bit and he became my second pacer, trying to keep up with him with four miles of the race to go. A little earlier than my planned push, but I tried. But even with eating the gel, I was hitting the wall. Not running in the past three weeks, having not done any long runs longer than eight miles in the past month, was starting to remind me that this bad idea may lead to a crash and burn. I walked more, and before long the guy was out of sight.
I was hoping for more hills just so I could have more walk time. I remembered that I had a Snickers bar in my possession and decided to start eating it. I’m so glad that I had it, or I might have been in really bad shape. I chewed it until it was basically liquid, washed it down with water, and hoped that the sugar would be quickly uploaded to my muscles.
Two miles left and I found my final pacer, a woman who was also walking hills but had a stronger running pace than I had at the moment. I kept trying to keep up but she was heading strong into the final stretch. At a mile to go, I heard another runner or two coming up behind me quickly. I said to the first guy “Can I borrow some of your extra adrenaline?” and he said he was using it all. And just like that we were both passed by the leader of the 50K. I knew that might be coming, but I was still surprised that it happened. “Oh shit! I just got passed by the 50K leader!” He offered some encouragement and I looked back to see who else might be coming.
I made the turn back onto the grass and looked back up the road and kept looking back – nobody there. I was spent and decided to walk the hill up toward the finish, maybe a quarter-mile to go and looked again – two people! Where did they come from? I picked up the pace. I saw my wife Kari and asked if they were gaining on me. I think she thought I was crazy, as they were pretty far back. But I was running on fumes. I kept looking over my shoulder and as I made the final turn I could see that I had no challengers. I began walking and about five feet from the finish, three guys standing around started yelling encouragement – “YOU GOT THIS!” I got this? I’m literally five feet from the finish. It struck me as odd and hilarious at the same time. I crossed the finish, hit stop, and was thankful I survived this really bad idea.
I met Kari, drank some Coke and Gatorade, ate a piece of banana, warmed myself in the truck, and then waited for the award ceremony. Second in the age group, finishing behind the guy who passed me at the 11-mile mark. He finished four minutes ahead of me, which was the time I finished this race last year.
Exhausted, but happy to be done.
Time to rest, recover, and start training for the next bad idea. Thanks for reading.
I just can’t seem to break the injury cycle. I recover and then push myself too hard and then reaggravate the injury or discover a new one. I’m currently dealing with high hamstring tendinopathy, also known to runners as a pain in the butt. My hamstrings are too tight, I hate stretching, and I’m old, a perfect combination for this infliction. So I am back to laying off running and walking instead, and it’s been nice enough during this “fake” spring to get on the bike and ride outside every once in a while.
I have to admit that I miss riding a bike, that is until something reminds me how angry I can get at people on the trail for being idiots. This past week it was a guy who just had to be the guy to run on the wrong side of the trail, which means toward me on the side I am riding on. Everyone else on the trail followed the rules except this guy. I encountered him twice, and both times I had to adjust what I was doing because he was in the wrong position. It’s people like him who remind me why I use only a small portion of the trail to get to the safer roads to ride on. It’s funny that I feel safer riding on roads with traffic than I do riding on the trail. At least most people are following the rules on the roads.
The winds of “fake” spring have been blowing pretty hard lately, often influencing which type of non-running exercise I will do. Today I considered riding, but thought the winds would be too strong. My wife Kari suggested a walk instead, and we both agreed to head to the local tree-lined running path to have a buffer from the wind.
As we walked east I complained about the fact that I once again had overdressed for the day. Not a problem for someone dressed in layers, but it’s never comfortable having to deal with a bulky jacket wrapped around your waist. It wasn’t too long into the walk that I started thinking about all the miles I had put on this trail over a couple decades. I looked up ahead and could see the bridge that spans over Route 45, taking trail users to and from downtown Frankfort, Illinois. I have run and biked over it many times, but today my memory was jogged to a half marathon that I ran several years ago in which the bridge came at the end of the race, maybe about mile 12.5 or so. There’s a hill to the crest to get over the bridge, which pales in comparison to the many hills that this race route had before it, but it comes when you are spent and it is one last challenge before gliding into the race finish. I remembered that my race tactic was to pace hard to the hill, pull back a little heading up it, then hammer it downhill for the last half-mile.
Old Plank Road Trail bridge, Frankfort, IL
Kari and I continued east turning around about 3.75 miles from where we started and walked west into the wind back toward the car. As we passed a local park we both found ourselves examining the empty field and I asked her if she was remembering all the soccer games we sat watching our youngest child Becca play there.
Arriving back at the truck, I hit the stop button on my watch at 7.5 miles and thought about how the trip down this trail had not only given my legs a workout but my mind as well. And given that I had spent two special hours with my partner in life, I think I had just created a new memory to be reminded of the next time I wander east on the OPRT in Frankfort on a windy, almost spring day.
an amazing run 