This race popped up on my Facebook feed last year, most likely due to Facebook knowing absolutely everything about my personal life, whether I like that or not, but it seemed interesting to me, so I signed up for the Saturday race (it ran again on Sunday), and my son Ben decided to join in the fun.
I really like the backyard ultra-type format, where you run 4.16 miles every hour and see how far you can go. It’s not about how fast, just how far, and I wondered what it would be like if there was a speed element added to it. I also often wondered about my pacing in backyard ultra races, particularly whether I might be better off running a little faster than my typical 52 minutes per loop. This race would provide some answers to those questions.
The Outlast format is one 5K per hour, repeated for six hours. The runner with the fastest cumulative time is the winner. There were no age groups for this race, and it bothered me a little knowing that my best 5K effort at 62 years of age would be no match for the North Central College runner winner of this race, who was clicking off 17-minute 5Ks, while doing cool-down jogs in between the loops. Still, I chose to push myself on each of the six 5K segments and see where I would stand against the rest of the runners.
The course was a single loop that was about 3.05 miles long, according to my watch.
This was really a race of two halves for me. The first three loops were pretty good. My splits were consistent, averaging 8:44 pace per mile. It was the fourth loop that I could feel some fatigue and a sort of malaise coming on. After completing that fourth 5K in 29 minutes, I spent some time in the porta-potty with stomach issues. I got back to the tent and really didn’t feel the best. I started the fifth loop, doubling up with another long-sleeve top on, and put my gloves back on. By the time I got about 3/4 mile into it, I was in trouble – I had an urgent bathroom need, but had no place to go. I stopped running and walked off the course to possibly squat behind a tree, but everyone in the race coming along would have been witnesses to some extremely embarrassing stuff for me. I opted to not crap in the open in front of everyone, and thought about calling it a day and heading back to the start and drop out of the race. But I chose to just keep walking, and eventually the need to go subsided. I somehow made it back to finish that loop and immediately headed to the porta-potty. A few minutes in there made a difference for me, and I felt 100% better after. The sixth and final loop of the race went really well, and I pushed myself to a good finish.
Here are my splits according to my watch:
26:19 – 8:37 pace / I started a little too strong and overheated a little
27:07 – 8:54 pace / Held back a little at the start, but a much better lap
26:10 – 8:35 pace / My best split of the day
29:00 – 9:35 pace / Trouble started to brew
34:22 – 11:22 pace / Almost crapped my pants, decided to walk
28:08 – 9:21 pace / Feeling good again, finished with a strong lap
Ben & I at the just before loop 1. I started with pants, took them off after the lap.Second lap finish. I’m old! But my legs look good. I put the gaiters on after getting a ton of trail crap in my shoes on the first lap.Ben was running in a strong second place for the first half of the race, but also got derailed with stomach issues.
Overall, I enjoyed the race. My biggest complaint about the race was the conga line that quickly formed in the opening half-mile. The race was run on a combination of grass, dirt, and mud on mostly single-track, which meant that early on, we were in a conga line for at least 1.5 miles, and getting stuck behind a slower runner was annoying at times. The third mile was much more open and wide, so if the race was run in the opposite direction, it would have given the field more room to run and spread out before getting to the single-track portion, and possibly eliminating the conga line.
The race had some issues with timing in the first couple of laps, missing some results for the top ten finishers on those laps. I guess they will figure it out and let us know, but I was listed as being 35th overall out of around 200 runners in the race. Not a bad result, but I might move down when the official results come out.
(Official results came out on Monday. See the results at the top of the page. There was one 64-year-old male who finished ahead of me.)
The race did give me some answers to the questions I had at the top of this post. First, without an age group competition, the need to hammer every lap didn’t really matter unless one was vying for the top spot, or you were interested in seeing how fast your splits could be overall. I can definitely say that I wouldn’t feel so dang sore today if I had just run each loop at a casual pace. Which leads to the second question – I would not last very long running a backyard ultra at a fast pace for each yard/loop. It would end my day very early if I ran a backyarder with the same pace plan I did today’s race. So, I think I will continue running and walking through my backyard races.
So there you have it, the first race of 2026 is in the books for me. Back to half-Ironman training for Ironman Rockford 70.3 coming up in June.
09/20/2025 ~ West Point, Iowa ~ 10 hours/loops/yards ~ 41.6 total miles
It’s my fourth time at this event, and it’s become an addiction. I love the backyard ultra/last runner standing format, and I love pushing myself to new distance goals. Broken Anvil is a great event, and if you’re looking to find out how far you can go, this is an awesome way to do it.
My wife, Kari, decided to join me this year – not just crewing, but also running – the second time for her, and my fourth here at Broken Anvil. We arrived on Friday night and set up our tent in the same spot we were in last year. We also set up our collapsible canopy next to it, as the tent can get warm. We spent most of our time with our chairs under the canopy in between loops.
Checked in Friday night.
The day was forecast to have some rain, and there was a little bit at the start, but then it let up for a few hours. Most of the midday, afternoon, and early evening was spent running in a steady light rain, with the occasional bit of heavier rain thrown in. Honestly, it didn’t bother me at all. When I run, I sweat, and the rain didn’t make it any worse. The temperatures were also mild, which helped keep the day manageable.
Morning sunrise in southeastern Iowa.
I was using my typical two-minute run/two-minute walk pacing plan from the start, and found that I was bringing up the rear. Most of the pack was finishing ten minutes ahead of me, if not more. But my pace plan has worked well for me in the past, and I kept chugging along.
On the second loop, it is not yet raining.
I made the switch to Tailwind this year as my primary hydration/nutrition, and it was working great for me. Gels tend to give me a sugar rush and then a blood sugar crash. Tailwind eliminated that issue, and I felt great on each loop of the race. I supplemented every loop with snacks in camp – pretzels, grapes, chips, a yogurt, bananas, etc.
Our camp setup – we spent most of our few minutes in between loops in the canopy.
As the guy coming in with less than 10 minutes to spare before the hour was up, I found myself worrying about anyone who was behind me. Sometimes they would squeak in under the cutoff, but I knew when I didn’t see them on the last out and back portion of the course that their day was probably done.
The field getting ready for the top-of-the-hour start.
Kari went out for the fifth loop, and she had been ahead of me for most of the loops for the day. It wasn’t long until I passed her, and then I became worried that she might not make the hour cutoff. I made it back to the tent, grabbed a couple of sandwiches, some chips, and refilled my handheld water bottle, and heard the 1-minute warning whistle. It was time to head back to the start corral for the next loop. Kari hadn’t made it back yet.
Kari and the rest of the runners were ahead of me, as usual.
But as the seconds ticked down, the runners ahead of me started cheering, and I realized that they were cheering for Kari, making it across the line just as Loop 6 began. Others were encouraging her to “Do One More!” loop (a sort of motto for this type of race), but she had collapsed on the ground. Now I had some concerns. I offered to walk her back to the tent, but she was having none of that and encouraged me to continue on with the race, insisting that she would be fine. I’m not sure if she crawled back or was dragged back to the tent, but when I returned to the tent, she said that others had assisted her in getting back on her feet, both literally and figuratively. When I came back in from that loop, she had changed clothes and looked refreshed. An impressive 20.8 miles, a personal best distance for her.
Sometimes hilly, sometimes flat – a little grass, asphalt, dirt & concrete.
I swapped to my backup pair of shoes when it was clear the rain was going to be around for a while. The pain I have been having at the top of my left foot made an appearance around Loop 4, so I popped a couple of Ibuprofen pills to take the edge off. Other than that, I had really no issues with strains, pains, chafing, or other issues that are typical for me. I used a product called Salty Britches anti-chafing ointment, and it performed really well. I would also add some Squirrel’s Nut Butter occasionally, as it was less hassle to apply, and to keep any chafing at bay.
Whispering Pines Trail is mostly dirt, pine needles, and tree roots, but it offers a definite walk break opportunity.
On Loop 8, I was getting pretty tired of running and was thinking of pulling the plug on the day. Loop 8 is a popular drop point in this race format, as it gets you an ultra-distance finish of over 50K. But I pushed myself back out there to the starting line to “do one more” loop. While in the corral awaiting the start of Loop 9, I met Matthew, who was wondering if he could join me for the loop. He was attempting his first ultra and was hoping to reach 50 miles before dropping. I advised him of my pace plan, and he was cool with going along with me at that pace. We chatted, and for the first time in the race, I wasn’t running mostly by myself. It was a relief not just to be in my own head for the first time. There were a few runners in the field like Matthew, who were there learning as they went. I am eight events into this type of race, and I am still learning as well.
Matthew and I paced through Loops 9 and 10, and upon finishing Loop 10, I decided that I had had enough. Matthew continued on and got his 50 miles/12 loops done. Pretty impressive. Well done! Also impressive were the runners who made it past 100 miles. The winner was Nick S., with an impressive 33 total loops and 137.5 total miles. The assist went to Keely Y., 32 loops, 133.2 total miles.
Out of the running and sitting in our chairs, waiting for the rain to stop. It’s tough packing up after 41.6 miles of running.
Kari and I hung around in the tent for a couple of hours, waiting for the rain to stop before tearing our tent down and heading back to the hotel for well-earned showers and some solid sleep. Another great experience at the Broken Anvil Backyard Ultra, and I hope to be back again next year.
3 out of the top 10 (distance-wise) were females (just got goosebumps typing that)
We had an age gap of 53 years from the youngest to the oldest participant (16 – 69 years young)
A total of 5,000 miles were collectively run during the race – That’s like running across Iowa 17 times
NOTES FOR NEXT TIME
I am really fond of my 2-minute run/walk pace plan, but maybe I am a little too faithful to it. The goal is to get in before the hour, and I was doing that, but I was also not leaving myself much time to regroup for the next loop. I may play with a 3-minute run/1-minute walk, or maybe stick with 2 minutes of running and only 1 minute of walking. Lots of time to try it out.
Our tent is great, but it might be time to buy a 10’x10′ canopy for easier setup and takedown. It’s miserable having to try to get everything packed up after running 40+ miles.
Caffeine! I totally forgot about adding some caffeine into the mix. I had about 5 ounces or so of Coke at noon with my sandwiches, but that was it. I might have gotten an extra loop or two more done with some caffeine in me.
I have done the spring version of this 25K before, and since I opted to not burden myself at Tunnel Hill 100 with another 100-mile attempt this year, I decided to give the fall version a go. And I am happy that I did! We had a cool and overcast morning for the race, with perfect trail conditions, and seeing that the fall version is run at a different course, I found this one to be a lot less technically challenging. That’s not to say this was easy – it had nearly 1500 feet of elevation! Lots of rolling hills, and a few steep enough to force me to walk, but the day turned out great for me.
My faithful sidekick/super sherpa/wife Kari and I got there way earlier than necessary, but were glad to do so to get a prime parking spot as the location had very few and we didn’t want to have to find the second and third parking option and have to walk. We had lots of fun people-watching and chatting about the other racer’s prerace routines.
I had made a race morning decision to wear my more comfortable road shoes instead of my trail shoes, based on the race director’s email stating that the course was in great condition. I also wore my gaiters to keep the little rocks, sticks, leaves, and other trail junk out of my shoes. I was looking around and it seemed that I was the only one that opted for them. I was so glad that I did.
At the start of the race, a short grassy section that led to the path.
The 50K started at 8:30 and my race started at 9:30. This course is much more crowded with other patrons, but they weren’t too bad and gave us plenty of room. My plan was to not go out too fast and have to suffer in the later miles, but of course, I bolted out of the gate. It wasn’t long before I found myself in no-man’s-land once again, not quite with the lead pack and way ahead of the back-of-the-packers. Doesn’t matter what length of race I do, I find myself in this spot every time.
There was a giant hill that I walked just before mile 2 and I got passed by a couple of other runners, but walking calmed me down and I settled into a more appropriate pace. The hills kept coming and I just kept pushing on.
That’s a lot of hills.
The 50K leader was shirtless and I saw him around my 5-mile mark and knew that I would definitely see him again. It wasn’t long after that when I saw the first 25K leader coming back at me from the turnaround, and she was flying! She did eventually win the race, a first for the race director, which he was super excited for.
As I got closer to the turnaround myself, I was marveling at how good a gel would make me feel. Every 30 minutes is when I choke down the 100-calorie syrupy stuff, and I was finding myself looking at my watch 15 minutes after each one wondering how much longer to the next. I finally caught a guy that I had been slowly reeling in, but he would jog the hills and I would walk them and have to work at pulling him back in again. We arrived at the turnaround aid station at the same time. I had already had the lid off of my 21-ounce water bottle and had it refilled with another 21 ounces. I’m glad that I opted for the bigger bottle this time instead of the 12-ounce handheld bottles I used in the spring race. I was staying on top of hydration.
After the turn, I found my legs and started running at a pretty good clip. This portion would be downhill for a while, and I tried to take advantage of that. I could see the competition coming at me for the first time and I was glad I had a good lead.
I have to give a shout-out to the large group of spectators who greeted us when we went out and came back on the course around the middle section. It was a big pick-me-up.
The next runner ahead of me was another one that I had tried to reel in from the start. She had passed me within the first 1/2-mile of the race and looked strong, but by mile 11 she clearly had run into a wall. I passed her and put some distance on her. I didn’t think that I was in the top ten at this point, but gaining a spot gave me some motivation to keep chasing others. The problem was, there weren’t any ahead of me that I could see!
With about 2.5 miles to go, we hit the last big hill and I was passed by another guy. Great, I had just gained a spot and now I was losing one. I tried to match pace with the guy, but he was younger and stronger. And to add insult to injury, the race director informed us at the awards that he had raced the RDs fall Lakefront 50K the week before. Tip of the running visor to him.
Once up the big hill it was flat and I summoned the energy I had left to push a little bit. I could hear the quick footsteps rapidly approaching me from behind and of course, it was the 50K finisher passing me in the final mile. It has happened twice now to me and I hate it! Oh well, another tip of the running visor to the shirtless 50K winner, whose overall 50K time was nearly a half-hour faster than my Chicago Marathon time. Actually, the second-place 50K finisher was also faster than my CM time. Crazy kids. Tip of the running visor to both of them.
As I was dealing with that defeat, the sounds of more footsteps were approaching, and I was passed by a woman who clearly was kicking to the finish. I tried to keep pace with her but she was slowly pulling away (tip of the visor to her-lol). We emerged relatively close from the trail and onto the grass to do a parade lap of the park to the finish and she hit the afterburners, beating me by 15 seconds. I knew that I couldn’t catch her, but I also knew that the clock was ticking rapidly to the 2:20 mark and I gave it my best to be sub-2:20, but my official time put me two seconds over it. My watch time shows 2:19:38, but it paused while I was refilling my water bottle. Seeing that I had predicted a 2:40 finish when I signed up for the race, and then thinking I had a good chance to go sub-2:30, to get 2:20:02 was a huge surprise that I will proudly take as a new PR.
Earned another A/G glass – 1st place!
Finishing the race and getting my medal and age group award
All in all, it was a great day and a great performance for me. I might have to keep this one on the calendar for next year!
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.
Ask any runner if they check the weather report weeks ahead of the big race and I would bet that most would say they do. I’m no different. We had really great fall temperatures the week before the race, but it was about to change – just in time for race day, naturally. Instead of packing several pairs of short sleeve shirts and shorts, I packed for a day in the low-30s, with evening temps below freezing. Kari told me later that the truck’s outside thermometer reading only reached a high of 34 degrees.
My super awesome sherpa/crew wife Kari and me heading to Vienna.
But as it turned out, the cold temperature for the day didn’t bother me at all. They say that you hope for the best conditions and prepare for the worst, and if some freezing-type temps were the worst of it, then that’s no big deal. I’ve run plenty of times in the cold. I knew it was going to get cold, but the two inches of snow we woke up to was quite a surprise. That’s the weather in the midwest for you.
Yes, two inches of freshly fallen snow greeted Kari and me as we went out to the truck for the trip to the starting line in Vienna. This will be interesting, I thought. We arrived, parked, and found our way to the start area to look for some familiar faces. My son Ben and become friends with a guy named Sean, and they had done a lot of running together. Sean was there to run the 50-mile race and I was glad to see him. We greeted each other at the pre-race dinner the night before and again just before starting our journeys, wished each other luck, and he took his rightful place in the front of the starting group and I made my way to the back. I found my local friends, Jim and Calvin, both doing the 50-miler, and we took some selfies. Jodi, Jennifer, and Lara must have been avoiding us, but I would see two of the three later in the race.
Sean and me at the start. He’d finish 4th overall in the 50. Impressive!
I’m not sure if I was just not hearing the national anthem or if they didn’t sing or play it this year, but the race seemed to start before I was aware it was time to do so. A trip around the parking lot led to the trail, and to the south, we all headed. As we trampled through the now slightly muddy trail, we all were taking the least sloppy line. But before too long, the trail firmed up, and only the edges of the trail and the numerous wooden bridges would show the icy reminders of the early morning snowfall.
Staying near the edge of the trail where it was less mushy.
I felt great as I pressed on, keeping on track with my plan to run for two minutes, followed by walking for two. I did really well with this method in September at the Broken Anvil Backyard Ultra, and it was netting me about 4.5 miles every hour. I met Kari at the second aid station located in Karnak, Illinois, and advised that all was good – and it really was. I tend to sweat, no matter if it’s hot or cold, but I wasn’t sweating at all. I must have picked the right amount/type of clothes for the day – two thin, long-sleeve undershirts, a pair of running shorts under a light pair of running pants, and my 2016 Ironman Lake Placid Finisher jacket, a jacket that is more like a windbreaker than what is typically offered by Ironman as a “finisher’s jacket” but was the perfect thickness for this day. I topped my head with a visor covered with a running beanie and of course a pair of gloves to keep my hands warm. I was shocked that I wasn’t sweating at all, and I attributed it to the run plan that I was following, keeping my heart rate down, and not heating myself up for too long. Of course, the weather and my clothing were contributing as well to keeping me dry.
Ran with Calvin for a bit and stopped for a picture.
Since I wasn’t sweating, and I was doing my best to keep hydrated, I was developing a new issue – I was peeing a lot. I estimate that I was drinking about 1/4 of a cup of water every couple of minutes. Early in the race, I was peeing every 10-15 minutes or so. By the later stages of the run, I was peeing about every five minutes. At one point it seemed like I would take a drink and then stop to pee. And since there was snow along the edge of the trail, I could clearly see that I was peeing very clear, not yellow at all. It was like the water was running straight through me. I took it as a good sign, but it was a little bit of a new experience for me and I thought about it a lot. Too much info, I know, and I’m sorry. It’s just a memory from this race that I don’t want to forget.
Chad Colson Photography – used with permission
There are another 3 miles from the first major aid station in Karnak to the turnaround and when I got back to Karnak again I decided to make an attempt at pooping. Into the port-o-potty I went, and was glad to take care of business. I walked back over to Kari to swap out my vest and I was approached by a woman who very delicately informed me that I had toilet paper trailing behind me from my pants. I would normally be thoroughly embarrassed, but when you’ve been whipping out your wiener to urinate in front of everyone for the last 16 miles, it really didn’t faze me that much. Kari got a kick out of it though. Another bit of too much info, and another memory for posterity.
Run for two minutes. Walk for two minutes. Pee. Eat a gel every half-hour. Eat something solid every hour. Repeat for hours. And that’s how the first fifty miles went. Very uneventful, and highly executed. I was dialed in. At a couple of points, I was pretty bored, so I pulled out my phone and called my super-fan Carl and chatted him up a little. I also called my daughter Rebecca who seemed a little surprised that I was taking time out of the race to chew the fat with her. Both conversations were big pick-me-ups.
The northern section of the trail has better scenery.
Heading into the tunnel
Chad Colson Photography – used with permission
Upon reaching the 50-mile mark and being back at the start/finish again for the second time, I couldn’t help to think about how I was doing. The prior year I had quit well before I crossed the mat. This year that wasn’t happening. Kudos to Kari for being wise with where she set up her chair and had our gear; it was roughly the same place as last year, and I had no trouble finding her. Of course, she found me before I found her most of the time, but I wasn’t having to figure anything out. I would take off my vest and she would either refill the bladder of the vest I preferred or swap it out with my secondary vest with a full complement of snacks and water. Occasionally I would forget to swap my phone over, and once I realized that I didn’t have my gel flask with me. But overall all, we were dialed in.
Finishing 50, ready to eat, and head back out.
Kari had dinner ready for me again, more Ramen noodles and broth, a sandwich, some potato chips, and my favorite drink Lipton Lemon Brisk tea. I ate what I thought I needed and headed off for mile 51 and more. It was just a few miles later that I felt so good that I called Kari to tell her so. I was really feeling good, and that continued for most of the night trip on the south portion of the out-and-back course.
Upon getting back to Karnak for what was now the fourth time, things were getting a little weird for me. The energy I had in the mid-50 miles was no longer there, and I was struggling to get through the two minutes of the run portion of my run/walk. I was definitely running slower, and would occasionally skip a run turn. Another thing I noticed was that I was drifting while walking, not staggering, but just having trouble walking straight. I thought of an old childhood friend named Mike who did that type of walking normally, and it gave me a chuckle. I think that it being so dark and that I was using a headlamp to light my way was causing me to get a little off. It’s like when you are driving in a car and being okay when you stare off into the distance, but try focusing on the things speeding by right in front of you and it becomes hard to focus. And I was staring at a gazillion rocks passing by my feet very quickly.
Heron Pond aid station is between Karnak and Vienna, and I tried to eat something there. I had some more ramen and broth, and a portion of banana. Kari walked with me for a while, and I mentioned that I felt like I was starting to get drained.
One weird sensation I was experiencing was uncontrollable yawning. This happened a couple of times. I was perplexed by it because my mind was pretty sharp, having consumed caffeinated gels every 30 minutes. I think it was my body telling my brain that it was tired. A very strange sensation.
From around mile 70 to back to Vienna I knew the writing was on the wall. To continue on was going to be tough. I told myself that I would try to eat some more food, maybe drink a 5-hour energy drink, and see how I felt. Kari met me and walked me to the warming tent, and then scrambled to get me the things that might turn me around.
As I attempted to sit in a chair in the warming tent, I had already unofficially quit the race. I stumbled a little trying to sit down, which wasn’t surprising to me. I had difficulty walking in a straight line for the last six miles and felt a little wobbly for quite a while. But I had been telling myself all day to keep giving it the “old college try.” They say in ultras that if you feel crummy at some point, you may feel totally better a little later. Kari had gotten me some of the creamy potato soup they were serving inside the tent, and I began eating what I could. But it wasn’t long before I was covering my face with my hands attempting to hide my emotions, and through some sobs, I confessed I no longer had the ability, nor the desire, to continue. Kari, without a doubt the best crew/sherpa ever, would have tried to push me on, but she didn’t try to convince me otherwise. It was pretty clear that I was done and she could tell.
I scanned the faces in the warming tent and I could see some of them were making the same difficult choices. Continue or quit? Some had already quit and were at peace with it, others had that 76-mile stare like I had just before getting back to the tent. Then in walked a guy around my age, who threw down a shiny new belt buckle on the table and declared “I’m done.”
“Did you drop, too?” I asked through some foggy mind haze. “DROP?! NO, I FINISHED!” he declared. I sat there somewhat dumbfounded. Finished? Puzzled, I looked at his belt buckle again, this time a little closer – 100 Mile SUB 20. It became crystal clear and I sank further into my hard metal folding chair. This guy had just gone 100 miles in under twenty hours and looked like it was no big deal. I picked my jaw up off the grassy floor of the tent, offered a small apology for making an erroneous assumption, and advised that I just misunderstood. I told him that I was dropping and was very impressed with his accomplishment. I think at that point he realized that I was not quite all there at the moment. He offered some encouragement, but by now my body was going into recovery mode, and any further energy would be spent keeping myself from uncontrollable shivering and hobbling to the truck for the ride back to the hotel.
Last year I went into the scoring tent to notify them that I was dropping to the 50-mile finish, which resulted in them encouraging me to continue before handing me a 50-mile finisher buckle. But this year the volunteer just asked for my bib number and offered me another 50-mile finisher buckle with some brief well done’s. Kari had pulled the truck close, I stiff-legged to it and got in, and off to the hotel, we went.
Officially I am a Tunnel Hill 50-Mile finisher, with an official time of 11 hours and 50 minutes. But my Garmin watch told the real story – 76.8 miles in 19 hours and 23 minutes. Farthest I have ever run. Last year it didn’t take long to regret dropping at 50 miles. This year there is none of that. I’m damn proud of those 76 miles.
It took me three Ironman races to finally dial in my approach to that race distance, and I’m finding that it’s a learning process with the 100-mile ultras as well. I’m not sure if I’ll make it back to Tunnel Hill for another shot at 100 next year, but I’m not giving up on this quest. Hey – I made it a marathon further than last year!
First time racing a triathlon since Ironman Chattanooga in 2019! It seemed a little different, but all things considered it was just like I remembered it.
I was a little apprehensive about this race. Any first-ever race, especially one that is not governed by USA Triathlon, can raise a red flag for me. But as more information kept coming I realized that the race director wasn’t a first-timer, and in the end it was a really well run event.
The Forge is a small to medium sized adventure style park located next to the old Illinois and Michigan Canal and the Lemont Quarries, where stone was mined to help build and then rebuild Chicago after the Great Fire. Lots of old quarries located in the Lemont, Lockport and Joliet areas. The park has zip lines, climbing walls, pump tracks and paths for cycling, and utilizes one of the quarries for swimming and kayaking. Lemont is a nearby community and when a link to this race was shared on a page I follow, I decided to give it a go. Okay, on to the race!
Getting up at 4 am is never easy, but I got up, ate, and then I drove to Lemont and parked at the Lemont High School parking lot, as the participant guide indicated that parking was limited at the Forge and it was really easy to park at the school and ride my bike to the park. Once that I got there, I found the rack for my bike and got my transition all set up.
After setting up I had some time to kill, so I walked to the swim start and exit, and walked back to transition to see where bike and run in/out were located. I jogged down the bike trail a little while to burn off some anxious energy and then used the bathroom and headed back to get my swim stuff.
The Swim – 11:28
I had swam on Friday and had a really good workout. Felt really strong and had no issues. I’m not sure why I couldn’t duplicate that here but I couldn’t. I was slow, felt like I couldn’t get enough air, and seemingly couldn’t get it under control. I was getting passed by a lot of other swimmers, but I finally settled in. Fortunately, the swim wasn’t long and I was out of the water soon enough.
Jump off the dock, head left and swim around the turn buoys. Seemed simple enough.
I had planned for a non-wetsuit swim as the race director had said several times that the water temps had been high and that we should plan to swim without a wetsuit. Turns out, Friday night and Saturday morning were cool and it was wetsuit legal. I hadn’t even brought the thing. I kind of wish I had, but nothing I could do about it. There were only a handful of triathletes wearing them. I would have thought that the quarry would have been really deep, but there were several places where I could easily see bottom, and there were times where my hand was actually touching the weedy stuff growing in the water. I was in 76th place overall after that miserable swim.
T1 – 2:08 – Coming out of the water we had a thin, green outdoor carpet covering rocks, but I’m such a tenderfoot that it was a struggle for me. Then we hit the crushed limestone and I didn’t really enjoy that either, but eventually we got into transition where there was more carpet covering grass. I quickly grabbed my water bottle and rinsed off my feet and then made a decision that I later regretted – I decided to go sockless on the bike. I never do that but I didn’t want to wrestle socks onto two wet feet. 22nd overall fastest through T1.
The Bike – 37:52 – I had biked on Thursday and I thought that I could probably push close to 20 mph average on race day. Boy was that wrong. I ended up averaging about 17 mph, but it wasn’t for lack of trying to go faster. The course was new to me, and there were lots of slower riders ahead of me. But the thing that really affected my overall speed was the numerous sharp turns, as well as a few hairpin turns thrown in for fun. It was a difficult course, and even though there was a no passing mandate on a portion in which there was two-way riding on a six foot wide path, there was plenty of passing going on. But from the moment when my butt hit the seat, I was gunning hard and passing lots of the faster swimmers. I never got passed on the bike, and ended up with the 24th best bike split.
T2 – 1:25 – What I thought was a super fast transition from bike to run, it turns out I was pretty slow compared to the others. This is also where I realized how dumb it is to go sockless. My cycling shoe had worn the skin off a small spot on the top of my foot. Needless to say, I put on my socks for the run and won’t be going sockless ever again. The results had my T2 split at a questionable 164th place. Really? That surprises me because I thought I had done pretty well. But I guess having to put on socks is what killed my time.
The Run – 22:04 – Grabbing my visor and bib belt, I bolted out of T2 without yet putting them on, and I was on the trail for what is my strong suit – the run. I passed three very fit triathletes by 1/4 mile into it and was feeling great. I just kept motoring along, passing numerous other runners. I came up on one woman at the turn around who knew what was about to happen and stepped aside to let me go by. I thanked her and started trying to catch the next runner. Soon I saw another woman heading toward the turn around and I thought to myself that I bet she overtakes me soon.
Somewhere after the 2 mile marker, the course veered off the I&M Canal trail and headed onto a park trail. There was a hill and the volunteer standing there said “You’re welcome.” I said “I’m walking this damn thing.” And I walked up it. It was steep, but what goes up quickly came down as we meandered through the portion of the Forge where they have climbing apparatus and zip lining stuff. There were some pretty steep rocky stairs that I had to run down, but they weren’t too technical. Back up a couple more hills and it was back the the trail and over to where we had to pass the finish line and do a quick 1/4 mile out and back to the finish. The out portion was where the woman who I figured would pass me finally did. We went around the cone together, but she hit the gas and I couldn’t match her pace. I had the 16th fastest run split for the day and moved myself up to 22nd overall.
I cooled down, grabbed a banana and some water, put on a dry shirt, and kicked back by the quarry to wait for the rest of the triathletes to finish. The scrolling results on the projected screen would only show overall place and not age group place, so I had to wait until the awards to find out if I had placed. When the announcer announced my time first I started heading for the stage. I was slightly surprised at 3rd place in my age group, but I was glad to take home the award, even if it was an odd carabiner clip thing attached to a chunk of wood. I think I prefer medals. The Old Guy age group seems to be the most competitive group out there. 16 of the top 25 were over 40 years old, and most of the rest were in their thirties. Only two of the top 25 were under 30 years old, a 19 year old and a 29 year old.
Conclusion – The Forge Off-Road Triathlon was a fun event. It was different to have to actually think about riding on a course like this, instead of just hammering along in aero on my tri bike. I would do this one again, and would recommend it to anyone thinking about hitting the trails for the bike and run instead of what we normally race on.
Results: 22:20 – 19th Overall – 12/124 Place Male Overall – 3rd Place M56-60 Age Group
Racing is back! Not sure I am though. After a year plus hiatus from racing due to the pandemic, I decided to join three of my coworkers and jump back into racing. I felt some anxiety about participating in this race, which is the norm for me for any race, but it was mostly due to not really being prepared to race a 5K having done nothing but long and slow distance training for most of this year and last. But I figured why not jump in and test my fitness a little, so I did.
I had checked the race results from 2019 and saw that I had a pretty good chance to possibly crack the top ten in this little local race, but when I got to the race I could clearly see that the competition was going to be strong. People want to get back to racing I guess. When I noticed that Tinley Track & Trail was well represented, I knew that a top ten finish was going to be a challenge.
I arrived and did my usual warm-up, and it didn’t take too long as the temps were in the low 80’s for this Thursday evening in June. About five minutes prior to the start I took my place in the start area and waited for the gun. Instead of a gun though, the girl starting the race gave some unclear message about starting the race when she starts the music. Well, the music started and we where all like “do we go now?” Someone took off, and the rest of us followed.
My plan was to try to stick with a guy named Rich from the Tinley T&T squad, as he is a little faster than me and would help me pace to my best effort. Rich has become my main competitor (arch enemy) lately, as he is in my age group and I see him at most of the local races.
The race starts with a little uphill and then flattens off for a while. When I noticed that I was running at 6:50 pace I tried to dial it back and settle in and also realized that I was once again hitting it too hard out of the gate. That wasn’t my game plan, but I seem to always go out too fast for the first mile. I clocked a 6:54 first mile and just shook my head. Rich was still ahead of me but he was starting to build a little bit of a gap.
I used to have some dumb rules for myself about who not to let beat me in a race. I need to add mom’s pushing baby strollers to the list, as two of them passed me in the second mile. To their credit they were fit, but it sucks to get passed by anyone pushing a baby stroller!
The second mile came 7:19 and although that was a decent pace that should have been comfortable, it wasn’t because I had already burned all my matches in that first mile and that pace was being forced upon me. I had driven the course earlier in the day because I was unfamiliar with it and saw that the last mile had a good drop but the last half-mile would be a climb uphill to the finish. Once I made the turn onto that hilly portion I was maxed out. I retook one of the stroller pushing moms but knew others were chasing me down. I gave it my all but got passed by another runner named Kelly, who I know from the local running club. But I was just glad to be finishing the last mile in 7:22 and coming in at 22:16, according to my watch.
The awards were quickly posted online and I could see that being third in my age group would not get me a medal for this race that only went two deep for the awards. Rich finished a half-minute ahead of me and I couldn’t quite match the pace at the end of another guy, who beat me by about ten seconds. Oh well, I need to be a little more prepared for next time and just be happy that racing has returned. 19th place out of 281 finishers isn’t so bad.
Summary: Chasing the Sun 5K is a tough little course with lots of turns and challenging hills at the start and end. I may keep this one on the calendar. I kind of like races on weekday evenings.
The family was up north in Minocqua for Thanksgiving and four of us decided that doing the local turkey trot would be fun. Ben had already looked at the previous results from last year and figured he could easily beat the winner’s time by a couple of minutes. I was glad to see we could save a few bucks by signing up as a family, $90 for the four of us instead of $30 each on race day! What we hadn’t planned on was the snowstorm the day before.
The snowstorm caused the race director to alter the course and eliminate the trail portion of the run. The course was now changed to an out and back. The town took care of the snow for the most part, but the sidewalk and the streets we would run on still had some snow. Fortunately, due to the sand they throw around up there on the streets, the footing was pretty good.
So we all showed up, registered and then Kari and I went back to the car to keep warm while the real runners, Ben and Emily, went for a pre-race warm-up.
Trying to stay warm on a cold upper Wisconsin Thanksgiving morning.
The start time approached and we all started gathering around the start banner. Ben had keyed on a kid wearing a Ripon College cross country shirt and figured he would stay with him until the end and out-kick him. Emily joined me and said she was going to run easy, which meant to go my pace, and I was glad to have the company. Kari took her spot away from the front and then the countdown began. 8… 7… 6… I hate when they do this because some guy always will jump the gun and go on 1, but here we were. 1… GO!
The race start was narrow and fed us almost immediately into a more narrow sidewalk, and that is when the festive mood of the race changed for me. A woman runner started to run almost directly at me from the left and I thought she was going to run into me so I held my arm up and kept her from bowling me over.
“YOU SHOVED ME, YOU ASSHOLE!”
For the record, I didn’t shove her. She didn’t even lose her balance. She just didn’t get to run into me like she was about to do. I explained to her that I was just keeping her from knocking me down, but damn, she was angry enough about it to call me an asshole. But now I was a little miffed. When you are a slow runner you shouldn’t be starting at the front of the race where the faster runners belong, and if you are going to cut someone off you better understand that the person you are cutting off isn’t going to like it. Why can’t these races just be fun and not end up with some weird, screwed-up occurrence? Happy Thanksgiving to you too, lady.
So with that incident on my mind, I tried to find a comfortable pace to run and try not to slip and fall on the snow-covered sidewalk. Emily and I made our way to the side street and to the turnaround point without any further issues. There were a couple of younger guys ahead of me wearing turkey outfits and I decided that I didn’t want to get beat by a couple of turkeys, so I started working on pulling them in. Emily had also decided to push ahead and leave me in her snowy dust. The first turkey I caught pretty quickly but it wasn’t until about a half-mile left of the race that I caught the second one. Another runner was ahead of me and I passed him as I was starting my last all-out kick, but he still had a kick left and then blew past me and started racing a high school kid up ahead that we were getting close to. I finished alone without any further challenges.
I looked at my watch and saw that the GPS recorded a distance of 2.90 miles and Ben and Emily said the same. The course was a little short, but no big deal.
Being called an “asshole” aside, it was a pretty good race for all four of us. Ben implemented his race plan and waited until 20 feet left to take the air out of the other kid and beat him by a second, winning the race. I think Ben enjoyed toying with his prey until the final moments. He won’t deny it. Emily was also first on the women’s side and both of them got turkeys for their wins. Kari was also on the podium with a 3rd place in her age group.
When we got home I was explaining to everyone what I did to get called an “asshole” and I demonstrated what she did with my daughter Rebecca. As I got close to Rebecca she instinctively put her arm up to keep me from running into her. There, I am vindicated!
Results: 57:32 / 9th Overall / 8th Place Male Overall / 2nd Place M55-59 Age Group
I started running this race in 2011 and this was my 5th time running it. It’s a fun race that is unique – an 8-miler, which you don’t see very often, it’s run in a nature preserve on mostly chipped limestone trail that meanders through some scenic Illinois prairie, and finishes the last half-mile or so on a grass horse track.
My goal for this race is always the same, finish the 8-miles in less than an hour and place in the age group and take home a medal. Mission accomplished!
This race starts at 9am but I have a habit getting there early to nab a parking spot in the main parking lot. Again, Mission Accomplished!
I did a little shake-out run to see if I was dressed warm enough and was satisfied with what I had on. After a couple of bathroom trips and reading the paper in the car it was time to head to the start line.
The start line has this funnel start in which only one runner can pass through at a time, which is really an odd way of doing it, but there may be some method to that madness. Since this is a trail run and it’s only so wide, this gets the runners to spread out. The first banner in the starting area said 7-minute miles, then 8, 9 and so on. I came back from another quick heartrate boosting jog I took my spot in the 7-minute spot. I was by myself. I was looking around and it appeared no one else was going to join me. Really? None of you runners back there can beat a 56-year-old guy? I noticed one guy wearing a North Central hat and said get in front of me and he was turning me down saying that he really wasn’t in racing shape. Really? You’re a former runner of the top DIII Cross Country running school in the nation and you don’t think you have a chance of beating me or the rest of these guys?! I got behind him and told him just not to run too fast because I didn’t want to lose sight of him and get lost.
North Central guy and me 1-2 out of the gate. I’M IN SECOND! In retrospect, I should have started first and then I could claim that I lead the race for a while! Oh well. North Central guy lead from start to finish winning the race.
The guy doing the announcing yelled everything like it was the most exciting info you could hear and he always went up in pitch at the end. Things like how to line up, when the race was starting, etc., he made it sound exciting. He counted down to zero and an air horn blew and off we went.
North Central guy and I were 1-2 out of the gate and I was already throwing out my usual pre-race run plan, start comfortable and run negative mile splits. Nope, I redlined it from the start. After the first turn, I lost sight of North Central guy and started hearing the footsteps of others behind me. By the half-mile mark, I was passed by a group of 3 runners, including the top woman and was now in 5th place. Everyone ahead of me was younger until about the 3-mile mark when I finally got passed by another guy with grey hair wearing shorts. He was running at a good clip and put some distance on me in no time. And then I was alone again, which is where I find myself in every race.
At one point I passed a couple of high school kids monitoring the course to make sure that the runners don’t turn off course and they cheered me. I told them to cheer nice and loud for the next runner so I could get a feel how far back the next guy was. They didn’t let me down, and I heard loud cheering about 40-seconds later. Nice.
Around 4.25-miles into the race, I encountered a girl who was right ahead of me on the course, right after a point in the course where those behind were supposed to turn right and follow the loop. Since only one girl had passed me early in the race I knew right away that she didn’t make the turn. I asked her if she missed it and she said she decided to only run five miles of the course, pulled out her phone and that was the last I saw of her.
The rest of the race went pretty much how I expected it to go. I had brought along a gel, which seems kind of unnecessary for a race lasting less than an hour, but I couldn’t resist and started taking small nibbles from it. I’m glad I did because it did feel like I was suffering less.
When I would pass a turn I would look back and I could see a runner wearing a blue singlet behind me. He had been back there a while so I was hoping that the kick I had planned for the last mile or two would be enough to keep him at bay. Then I got to the portion of the course where the 5K turnaround was located and hit a wall of slow walkers not even halfway done with the 3.1 miles. This gets me going because they should know that they need to stay right and not block the rest of the racers. I did a lot of shouting “SHARE THE TRAIL!” at these people, and not in the same way the announcer dude was shouting stuff.
I finally made it to the horse track for the finish and was in the final turn when the guy in the blue singlet finally caught me and passed me. Got me riled a little knowing that he had been back there the whole time and waited to the very last 1/4-mile to overtake me, but whatever, that’s racing. I finished and was glad to be done.
Place: 8487th Place Overall / 6610th Male / 243rd Male 55-59 Age Group
Another Chicago Marathon is in the books! Here’s a “By-the-Numbers” look at my race.
9 – Number of Chicago Marathons I have started and completed.
21 – Total number of marathons run (including Ironman finishes).
3 – Where my finish ranks for the fastest marathon finish times for me (3:25 in 2016 & 3:28 in 2015, all at Chicago and all in my fifties.).
3 – Number of times meeting the Boston Marathon qualifying standard, all at Chicago.
13 – Seconds below the BQ at this race (3:35:00 is the BQ for my current age/sex).
0.000000000001 – Percent chance that I will get into the Boston Marathon with that slim margin.
0.0 – Percent chance that I will even apply for the Boston Marathon with that time.
2 – Number of weeks after completing Ironman Chattanooga that I ran this race.
97 – Minutes faster I finished the Chicago Marathon compared to the marathon split at Ironman Chattanooga (5:11).
27.1 – Miles that my Garmin watch recorded for the run. It was off by 2/3’s of a mile by the halfway point. It’s hard to plan splits when your watch gets off.
8:12 – Average pace minutes per mile (I was aiming for 8 min/mile).
7:13 – Best mile split, Mile 1
Feeling good back downtown in the first half of the race.
8:56 – Worst mile split, Mile 26
3 – The number of seconds Emily’s grandfather yelled at me that I was wasting by stopping to kiss Kari when I saw her and the group of family and friends that came to watch Emily and I (okay maybe just Emily) race. I wasn’t expecting to see Kari that early in the morning because she had a long night on Saturday. So I took 3 seconds to appreciate that. Worth it. Should have spent four seconds.
1:45:00 – Halfway (13.1 miles) split, a perfect 3:30 pace split (Nailed it!).
Just crossed the 13.1 Mile mark timing mat at exactly 1:45:00.
0 – Number of times I stopped for a bathroom break.
1 – Number of times I peed into an empty Gatorade bottle shoved discreetly down my pants in the start corral before the start.
4 – Number of guys who stood next to me in the corral and whizzed openly on the curb.
41 – Degrees Fahrenheit at the start of the race.
45786 – Number of finishers.
187 – Average run cadence/steps per minute for me.
156 – Average heart rate/beats per minute for me. Seems high. I wasn’t working that hard.
2919 – Number of calories burned, according to my Garmin.
51331 – Number of steps total for the day.
6 – Mile where you turn back south and get a whiff of the strong smell of breakfast being served at some restaurant along the course. It makes me angry every time because I want to stop and eat pancakes and can’t.
1 – Number of times I said to myself during the race that I am not enjoying this anymore, somewhere around Mile 8. Yeah, I know, pretty early on and it was due to the cold wind that was blowing on me all of a sudden. The wind was pretty strong and cold at times.
2/3 – Portion of the race that I kept my gloves on for.
Numerous – Number of spectators I saw trying to cross the gauntlet of runners to get to the other side of the street, which is really a dumb idea and really ticks me off.
1 – Number of spectators I saw wipe out trying to cross the gauntlet of runners to get to the other side of the street, landing with a pretty hefty thud, which caused me to laugh and call him a dumbass.
2 – The number of Ben’s friends (Adam and Colin) still hanging out around Mile 22 that I saw and High-5’d. It was a welcome boost.
4’9″ – The estimated height of the girl that I spent the majority of the race running with, usually behind her because she had such an arm swing going that I was afraid she would punch me with it. It’s interesting that after a couple of miles into the race that you will be running with the same people for the majority of the rest of it.
3:25 – The finish time I was predicting for myself at the halfway point.
3:30 – The finish time I was predicting for myself at the 20 Mile mark.
3:35 – The finish time I was praying for with one mile to go so that I would be under the time cutoff for a Boston Qualifier.
The finish line was dead ahead.
1 – Number of hills of any significance on this course – located at Roosevelt Road, AKA Mt. Roosevelt, which comes at Mile 26. It’s a nothing hill but comes at the end and I started to cramp up and had to walk some of it.
0 – Desire to do this race again.
Exhausted, glad to be done. But the journey wasn’t over just yet…
Okay, that’s enough of the numbers. Here is the report in a nutshell. The race went pretty well for me. I was a little concerned that I would not have been recovered enough after finishing Ironman Chattanooga two weeks prior to running this race. But seeing that Chattanooga was so hot and that I walked/jogged the vast majority of it, the Ironman didn’t really beat me up that much. I actually felt pretty good after it. So I decided to push myself in Chicago and shoot for a 3:30.
I had one layer too many on at the start and the windbreaker that was getting me too warm and making me sweat was handed off to Kari in the early miles. The temperature was awesome, but the occasional gust of wind would jolt you pretty strongly. I was taking on water and Gatorade as well as hitting the gels every 30 minutes, which I increased in the latter part of the race. I felt that my energy level was good, but my muscles were just not responding and getting more tired and sore as the miles added up.
Kari knows how to spectate this course. She was able to catch me as I shuffled through the last mile toward the finish.
I wouldn’t say that I hit a wall, but I did feel like the last 5K was a battle of will for me. I really dug deep in that last mile and a half. I could see that my pace was slowing even though I felt like I was giving it everything I could. It seemed like I was passing a lot of people at the end, but that’s not unusual. Then I finished and was relieved.
Now the fun part starts.
After crossing the finish I tried to keep moving forward. My hands started to tingle and I could feel myself starting to get a little lightheaded. I grabbed a water bottle and started drinking it. A medal was placed around my neck by some bearded guy and I worked my way through the chute. One thing about the marathon finish chute is that there isn’t any place to sit down. That’s by design, they don’t want you to stop moving or it will clog up everything for the remaining runners coming in, and it is in your best interest to keep moving so you don’t start cramping.
It wasn’t long and a girl ahead of me dropped to the ground and started screaming in pain, raising her leg up. Clearly, she was having a bad leg cramp, but the volunteers didn’t have a clue what to do with her. As I stepped around her I assured myself that they would help her, and I did that because I didn’t want to BE her. My goal was to make it to the Medical tent and be close to it if things went further south for me. As I got there I was met by two guys, Jeff and Kyle, a couple of nice guys, probably med students, who started peppering me with questions. I thought I was passing their test, but they decided to get me in the tent and get some blankets on me. A doctor approached and peppered me with more questions, one of which was “what’s your bib number?” Hell, I couldn’t remember it. I don’t think I ever really committed it to memory. It had an 11 and some 6’s and 7’s. “Okay, let’s go sit down.”
They sat me on the cot in what I could tell was a pretty empty medical tent and made me lay down, and that’s when all hell broke loose. My calves seized up and I began screaming. Loudly. Then they had a great idea to shove a foam roller under my legs and have two massage therapists grab my calves like they were squishing Play-doh between their fingers. That prompted more screaming now fortified with some very strong expletives. They were fighting me and I was fighting back. I finally convinced them that I needed to stand up, which thankfully for them they allowed, because had they not I would have summoned all strength that I had to murder each and every one of them.
Guess what? The cramps went away as soon as I was on my feet for a few seconds. I apologized, they understood and we tried a different approach. I was now shivering and blankets were piled on me. After a little walking, I sat in a chair and they brought this thing over called a “bear hugger,” which was a warming blanket that was heated to 43 degrees Celcius. They offered warm chicken broth and Gatorade and I did my best to get that in me. It was now pretty clear, I was dehydrated and paying for it. But at least I was now warm and toasty.
In retrospect, an IV probably would have done me wonders but I was reluctant to ask for one. I had gotten them post-race before years ago with no issues, but one time at the Rockford Marathon I requested one and the next thing I knew I was in an ambulance taking a trip to the hospital. I did not want that to happen, so I kept my mouth shut. Also, getting an IV would have required me to lay down again and there was no way in HELL I was going to do that.
After warming up and doing some more walking around, they allowed me to leave. Actually, I think it was more along the lines of they no longer needed to waste their time with me. I asked where the Red Gear Check tent was and they offered to get me a golf cart to take me there. Really? After I called each and every one of you an MFer, you are going to cart me there? Sweet! So I hopped in “GOLF CART 1” as the lady driver broadcast herself into her portable radio, informing maybe the other two people listening that she was giving me a lift. The ride was to the Red Gear Check tent was interesting. Instead of putting me in a wheelchair and pushing me there in a couple of minutes, we instead drove what seemed like 90 MPH down the sidewalk along Lake Shore Drive for several minutes, while Helen Wheels kept blowing a whistle to get people to get out of her way. I was crouched over trying not to get tossed out of the cart while still clutching the three blankets around me to keep me warm. We passed the backside of the Red Gear Check tent at what seemed full speed and I really wished that I had just walked there instead, and then we pulled into an open gate while other workers looked at us like this was quite unusual. She drove me as close to the Red Gear Check tent as she could without hitting other marathon finishers walking past. I could read their faces – “How the hell did this guy get carted to the Red Gear Check tent?! Must be a celebrity or VIP or something.” Hardly, just some guy who just had experienced the strangest 60-minutes post-marathon of his life. Then Helen Wheels barked into her microphone “GOLF CART ONE RETURNING TO THE MEDICAL TENT,” and that was the last I saw of her.
But wait, there’s more.
So I get my checked bag from the Red Gear Check tent and was so glad that I had checked a hoodie and some pants. The warmth felt great after a 90 MPH ride in a golf cart with Helen Wheels on a now 48-degree day.
Then it hit me, I had to walk back to the hotel. Not sure that it was even a full mile, but at the pace I was shuffling at it was going to take me a while. Where the heck was Helen Wheels when I needed her? I spotted some port-o-potties and peed for the first time since 7:15am, then I shuffled over and saw the Runner Reunite area, and since the big inflatable labeled G-H was nearby I made my way close enough to see if I could see Ben or Kari standing there. That was never in the meet-up plan, so I wasn’t surprised that I didn’t see them. Exiting Jackson Street back onto Michigan Avenue was miserable. Tons of people all trying to squeeze out right there and now I was getting a little too warm. Thankfully I made it to Michigan Avenue, turned north and that’s when I saw my tall son towering over the rest of the pedestrians. He looked relieved to find me. As we shuffled down Adams Street I apologized for my slow tempo, and I could tell things weren’t right. I was getting nauseated. When we got to Dearborn Street I spied a large planter next to the road and basically barfed up all of the liquid that I had just put in me in the Medical tent. I instantly felt better.
Kari was walking to meet us and was briefed and we went back to the hotel where I showered up, put on some clean, warm and comfortable clothes, and then started walking to the car. On the way, we offered a homeless person one of the blankets I had been given in the Medical tent, and it was gratefully accepted. As we headed out of downtown Chicago I caught a glimpse of some runners still on the course running in Chinatown at Mile 21.
After some restless attempt at sleeping in the car on the way home, upon getting home I walked inside and said hello to my daughters Ashley and Rebecca and laid down on the bed and slept. After eating some soup Kari picked up for me and some salty potato chips and sugary drinks I started coming around.
And my friends wonder why I declare after every marathon that I will never do another one.
an amazing run 