Ely Half Marathon Recap

A Runner's Ramblings: Volume 17; 10th Edition
144.1 miles run and 58 miles biked and 1930 meters swam in 2023 races
Race: Ely Half Marathon
Place: Square Lake, MN
Miles from home: 246 miles
Weather: 60s, cloudy, windy, slight rain and humidity

For the second year in a row, the app I have co-created, Sherpa, is the title sponsor of the Ely Marathon. For the second year in a row, I was running a half marathon there and excited to do so. I was excited, in spite of the fact that I’ve had less than a stellar year of racing and was definitely still feeling quite tired from the half-Iron Man race I did two weeks ago. 

I had planned more than a few months ago to take this race a little less seriously than most and just have some fun with it and help promote Sherpa in a silly way. I decided the way to do that would be to wear a disco ball helmet and carrying a 3 x 5 flag with Sherpa's logo on it to help promote it to the people at the race and in the city. I have run with the flag on multiple occasions and even on the best days it is quite exhausting. Why I think "have some fun with it" means "make the race harder" is beyond me. I wasn’t exactly sure how this race was going to go but felt I could run solid through the places where I knew it would be easier and then take it easy on the places that were harder, which, given this is a rather challenging race, would be plenty.

Race Morning:

The buses to the start of the various race were located just one block from the finish line. Ample parking awaited all those who needed it, including last arrivals like myself.  In fact, everything about the logistics of the Ely Marathon is convenient and stress-free. I don't say this as a sponsor. I sponsor the race because that is true.  Having run hundreds of races and being a bit of a prima donna on race morning, the last thing I want to do is be troubled with logistics. That is one thing I adore about this event. The lack of headaches.

I was able to catch one of the last buses for the half marathon and still had over a half an hour of time before the race started once I got to the starting line. In addition, it what would have to be an absolute first in my racing life, I got to the bathroom and had absolutely no wait.  I just walked right in.  I almost thought I cut the line. There were more than a few hundred people ready to race, it was as if everyone had already used the bathroom and was saying, "Go right ahead, Dane it’s all yours." In fact, as most runners will know, you get a little nervous before a race, and you have to go more than once, which I did, and almost never had to wait for more than one person.That was a treat.

It was then just a few minutes before the start of the race that I finally unfurled my flag, and put on my silly little helmet. I sauntered close to the start, hoping that I would be able to run close to what time I ran last year: 1:29:13. But given my extra accoutrements, that was highly unlikely. As the wind whipped around us at the start I positioned myself to the far right, not to get in anybody’s way, and simply waited for the countdown. Away, we went.

First Three Miles: 

I saw two people I immediately recognized as the men’s winner last year, and the women’s winner. I figured I wouldn’t be anywhere close to the men’s winner, who I couldn’t beat on my best day, and I was likely to lose to the women’s winner as well. As we started the race and began climbing a small in height, but long in duration. hill, I was already feeling the effects of the wind on the flag. I also just didn't have any zip. 

My 1st mile was at 7:11 which wasn’t too bad given the first hill and my 2nd mile was a 7:06, which was a little bit disappointing because this was likely the biggest downhill of the whole course. The only one which might be more forgiving would be the steeper but shorter hill at mile seven. I remember specifically that I ran these first two miles in 6:34 and 6:32 last year, so I was already well off the pace. As I went from the 2nd to 3rd mile the wind almost ripped the flag out of my hands and I could feel something going a little askew in the pole. As the point was to advertise with the flag, I didn’t mind if I rolled it up a little bit and tucked it under my arm on this portion, as there was virtually nothing but trees and deer out here to see it.

To Mile Seven: 

Quite challenging, this Half Marathon is easily broken up into four sections, which make it more easy to digest. The first section is the three miles do you which include the biggest climb of the day. The second section is the out and back where you go through the town of Winton (pop. 162) and experience a series of undulating hills, but also more than a few Wintonites out cheering you on. It was here in this section that I realized that I had two runners running directly behind me who I hadn’t heard the entire run. One thing about a disco ball helmet is that you can hear virtually nothing!

The only reason I found out these runners were so close is because, as we trudged up the hill, and, as is my norm, I slowed down. I am horrible at running uphills. Once we got to the top and were giving a few down hills to run, I was able to put them behind me. I expected to see them anytime we hit the uphills again, as there were plenty but I didn’t see them the rest of the race. 

Before I even got to Winton the overall leader was already heading back. I could tell that I was getting my butt kicked today because I was much further ahead last year. I never even saw him at this turn around. I actually made a choice to drop my flag at this one aid station, knowing that there was a little loop that I didn’t have to carry it and could be able to pick it up on the way back.

I passed a house with a flag outside and the first word I could see was "Trump". St. Louis County  went for Biden in 2020 but it also included the city of Duluth. I was not surprised to see that out there (just like I am not surprised when I see Trump signed in my own hometown of Titusville, PA.) But when I saw it said "Keep America Trumpless" it was like a burst of energy. You can actually see it on my GPS! 

As I rounded this section, I looked on the ground for my flag ready to shoulder the load again.  But it wasn't there! The volunteers must’ve seen the shock look on my face (impressive given the enormous sunglasses I was wearing and the helmet obscuring my forehead)  because one of them pointed to the other side of the street.  Another volunteer was holding it aloft ready for me to grab. Now that’s what you call service! 

I grabbed it, held it aloft proudly and began running back the way I had came. By this time the vast amount of runners behind me were streaming by. I received many smiles and high-fives from competitors. I don’t know if it was because of the disco ball helmet or the flag but either way I made some people smile and that’s a pretty darn good thing. 

I went down the other side of the biggest hill of the course and was ready to take on the section between Shagawa Lake and Miners Lake. I always forget that there are two big climbs in this section and the second one really does take it out of you. But the reward for climbing that hill and going down the other side as you get to run next to the ruins of a mill, and if nothing else, it makes for great pictures. 

You also get to join the trail that goes around Miners Lake and avoid some other hills that you would have to climb if you stayed on the road. For that, I am very appreciative! As you run around the west end of miners lake you are usually presented with a few well wishers and a aid station with nice cold drinks - glorious even when it is in the 60s.  And to say something about the weather: I have no idea how mid-60s can feel so warm but it probably has to do with a helmet.  Regardless, I was utterly drenched in my own sweat and so thankful for a cool drink.  I was ready for the best running portion of the whole race followed by one last kick in the butt.

Heading to the Finish:

This long straightaway here is where, after a small uphil,l do you have a nice long flat to downhill section that is peppered with signs that well-wishers have created and left out for you to read. At this juncture in my running career, I’ve pretty much seen all of the motivational signs, but I did chuckle at “Run like your mother used your full name." I then got a little catch in my throat because I realized it has almost been one year since my mother passed and this was the last Half Marathon I ran before she did. 

I didn’t have time to fight with those feelings right now, however. I was feeling the best that I had all day because I had given my friend Heather, and co-creator of Sherpa, the flag about a half a mile back.  I asked her to give it to me a bit closer to the finish so I could just try to run like a normal human for once. With a disco ball helmet but still, kinda normal.

I ran one of my fastest miles of the race and thought I might be able to track down the only two runners who had passed me all race, having done so as we ran between the lakes a mile or so back.  But they must have been enjoying this section as well as they only seemed to lengthen their lead, as they battled it out. One of them had asked when he passed me if this company was paying me a lot to carry the flag.  I told him not nearly enough and laughed. I see now he was a 23 year old and he was battling the 53 year old who passed me. Kudos to Caleb and John for fighting hard to the finish and giving me something to try to chase. I had lost contact with virtually anyone else miles before and this was the spark I needed to try to get moving.

When the flat section ended and the last climb back into the city began, I was feeling pretty good. Unfortunately, no one told my watch that as I had my only, 8+ minute mile of the entire race here. I also had to contend with a morning driver who had gotten a little lost and while trying not to cause any trouble but almost caused a lot of trouble. Luckily, I sidestepped her vehicle and then began running on the main  drag in Ely for the last mile and change. Ely is a small town but it was no small feet to get an entire mile plus of street completely blocked off to all traffic. Runners could feel like royalty as they had the entire street to themselves.  I ran down the middle of it feeling like I was in an apocalyptic movie with no other survivors. There were a few hardy spectators out including the ever-present jello shot givers in front of Gator's Grilled Cheese Emporium. I don't partake but I know others love them and that made me smile. With one last rule hill before the historic theater, I grabbed the flag from Heather, ran a block or two made the final turn and began heading for the finish at Whiteside Park. 

About half of a mile before the finish the ziptie on the flag broke. I am surprised it lasted this long.  I looped my finger through the grommet and balled it in my fist. I would be damned if I carried it this long to have it NOT be seen by the most people in one place!

The announcer got the people excited for my finish and I came in 11th place overall in 1:40:04.  I truly wished I had looked at my overall time as I know I could have found five seconds in me to make sure I ran 1:39.  I know it is a hard course. I know it is windy.  I know I was carrying a damn flag.  But this time realy disappointed me. Just because you decide to goof around and make your race difficult doesn’t mean that you still don’t think you should run fast.

I didn’t do that today, but I did get to enjoy another well-run race here in Ely. The event weekend continues to grow and add new and more exciting parts to it and we cannot wait to help make it a destination race in the future. Being difficult has not stopped any good race from drawing participants in the past.  In fact, some tout the difficult nature of their race as a selling point.  If you get people to desire to come to you, put on a great race, and give them something they can't get anywhere else (like the absolute lovely lunatics who run the race portaging a canoe!) people will come to you. 

I can't say that I will be surprised that if within five years, Ely has to put a cap on their race. We can't wait to see that happen!

Square Lake 70.3 (ish) Triathlon Recap

A Runner's Ramblings: Volume 17; 9th Edition
131 miles run and 58 miles biked and 1930 meters swam in 2023 races
Race: Square Lake 70.3 Tri
Place: Square Lake, MN
Miles from home: 40 miles
Weather: 55-75; cloudy, warm

After the debacle which was the final few miles of my half marathon last weekend, I was extremely trepidatious about this "Half-Ironman" race. (Quote used here as it was not a branded Ironman race which means it often has less frills but costs about 1/3 the normal going rate.) Most of that fear came from the fact that the weather which had wilted me last weekend looked pretty similar to what I was going to face for this race. Nothing "too" warm but not the best ever. My brain would normally look at 70ish degrees and think that was a good day for a run, but that is only because living in this super-heated world we live in (sure, there's no climate change, Republicans) has broken my brain and I think anything that isn't 90 degrees is the bee's knees. 

I rested a great deal the week before this , especially after a run on Wednesday evening in lovely 65 degree weather netted me one of the worst training runs I had ever had in my life. Suffice it to say I was worried. But I had trained harder on the bike this summer than I ever have in my life (really not saying much but I did have two 40+ milers and a 50 miler under my belt - something I had never done) and was going to simply give all I had.

Morning Of:

We couldn't check into the park where this race started until 6 a.m. (supposedly) to begin setting up our gear. Yet when I arrived at 5:57 a.m. the parking lot was 3/4 full. After buying the park pass and realizing I had forgotten a couple of things for my race, I went to see if anyone was selling or had extras. No one did. It wasn't the end of the world, but it was just annoying that I hadn't prepared better.

There wasn't much fiddling around after setting up my bike and run stuff before we headed to the beach to begin the swim. This portion of the tri would be done by self-seeding. Each swimmer would step up to the timer, say their number, have it repeated back to them, then sprint into the water to begin their swim.  I had only had 10 swim workouts this summer but I felt good in my swimming ability. Nevertheless, I wanted to defer to other swimmers who had put in the time and/or were talented. But when not many seemed eager to get in, I found myself entering the line of swimmers about 12th overall. I read my number and away I went.

Swim: 36:42 (4th overall)

Plunging into the the lake, I was the only person I saw not wearing a wetsuit. I know they help with buoyancy but I have had horrific abrasions from them in the past and was perfectly happy wearing just my new Sherpa trisuit. I was also using new goggles and I should have tightened them more than I did. Rookie mistake. A little water slipped in one eye but after one quick stop to empty it out, and one hard press with my shoulder, the googles were more or less fine the remainder of the way.

The water was about as perfect as you could get. I wouldn't have minded it being a bit cooler but there were no waves, no wake, and it looked like glass. Pretty clear as well and just set up for some fast times.

Our course consisted of two separate rectangles and I was ready to fall back on my swimming skills, and my penchant to never kick when I swim, which actually saves my legs for the latter portions. I didn't expect to do that great but I figured I would be ok. Let's hear it for being naturally good at swimming! (That's not a brag but more a self-own since I should probably practice it more. Alas.)

Right after turning at the second buoy, meaning we were halfway through the first of two laps, I looked ahead of me and saw...nothing. As far as I could tell, I was in first place.  This was different. I didn't even feel like I was swimming that fast. And that was where I would stay for an entire lap where I felt someone hit my feet. I hadn't seen them in my peripheral the whole lap which means they were just riding along in my wake. Legal, but annoying. So I threw in a surge to try and lose them and it felt like I did. On the final homestretch, I saw another swimmer way off to my right.  He was definitely swimming fast but couldn't sight worth a damn. He finally got the right tack and was tracking me down but with just a few yards left, I wasn't going to NOT be the first one out of the water. Or at least the first one out of the water I could see.

(As it ends up, there were two others who swam slightly faster than me but started behind me, and another, the overall winner, who swam like a marlin and beat me by nearly 5 minutes. I have no idea if he was in front of me and somehow didn't create a wake or started behind me and just bided his time. Triathlons are so annoying.)

T1: 1:47 (7th fastest)

I didn't feel like I was all that fast in this transition as things weren't going on quickly and other things weren't clicking and I was just kinda moseying along. But lo and behold, I was actually pretty quick onto the bike. Transitions have never been my strong suit but my penchant for wearing my socks when I swim helps.  Some people find that wet socks would stink to cycle in but trying to put dry socks on wet feet takes forever.  And no socks is a no go for me.  And the way I sweat, my feet are going to be wet soon regardless. So, socks on for the swim it is which allows me to run over surfaces a little better anyway.  Win win.

Bike: 3:07:16 (33rd overall)

Within about two miles I had a cyclist pass me, followed quickly by two others. Then a few miles later, two others passed me and I was already feeling the hills.  One of the biggest climbs of the entire race is right out out of the gate. I had driven this course a few weeks ago and had noticed all the hills but there is a huge difference between riding them and driving them. And in spite of my concerted efforts to be a better cyclist this summer, I am still bad at uphills.

There were a few nice sections which had just been paved but there were a few not-so-nice sections (much longer) that were not and were quite rutted and uneven. Not the worst road conditions I have biked on but not fun. 

One thing which I don't understand whatsoever is the little out and back before the second loop. That out and back had a couple of large hills in it (the whole damn course was up and down) that equaled about three miles. The whole bike course was over two miles long. Why in the, and I pause here for emphasis, HELL did we add an extra out and back that made the course long? And this was no mistake. Two plus miles from the finish of the second loop had "Mile 56" painted on the ground with a sign as well. So this was the plan. I am seriously curious why this was the case. I just don't get it. 

Don't advertise your race as 70.3 if it is at least 72.3.

Throughout the first loop my spirits were down. All I could think about was asking if it was possible to drop from the 70.3 tri to the AquaBike which was being run concurrently. And having the biggest hills of the race coming right at the end of the loop didn't help me any. It frustrated me greatly that I had put in a lot of time (for me) on the bike and still wasn't seeing the results I wanted. I know while I upgraded my bike it has a LONG way to go to being top-notch but I don't want the blame the instrument. I just need to remember that triathlons are basically cycling events with a swim warm-up and a run cool down. I hated that I was so mental defeated the first loop. 

On the second loop, I undoubtedly slowed a bit but somehow talked myself out of quitting at the end of the bike. I actually felt pretty good.  This is fairly typical for me on looped course.  Knowing what I have in store always helps me. I grabbed a water bottle from one of the volunteers about halfway through this loop.  I sure wish that liquid provided on courses was colder. This is almost universal. Almost always it is not the liquid I need as much as I do the COLD liquid. Not sure why this isn't a universal thought.  Not blaming the volunteers who were very nice and helpful. Just another thing I simply don't understand about racing.

So many hills.

I was feeling decent even though I was getting passed here and there by a few cyclists.  In the other tris I have run I have never been too bothered by this because I would always think about how many of them I would end up passing on the run and it is usually a great deal. 

As we began a nice downhill section (that was interrupted by two 90 degree turns through a bridge which we had been warned extensively about to SLOW DOWN), I once again began having those thoughts. Then the tough climbs at the end of the loop grabbed ahold of my mind again.  My energy ebbed.  My mood soured.  A cyclist passed me after we had both passed the 5th mile and said "I guess we are getting some bonus miles today, huh?"  

"Yep.  And uphill to boot!" I replied. I thought of the run ahead. I realized it would be on the same course I had just biked and that it was going to be rough. Uff da.

I rolled into the transition, saw the race director and asked if I could drop to the AquaBike. I was ready and willing to be done with the day even if it meant a DNF.

T2: 4:53 (Really low overall. I am not counting.)

The RD was nice enough to say that she would check to see if I could drop. The timer said it wasn't a problem. She said I could also start running and if I still felt like I was done, just to come back and then drop down. This was really nice. Something about having that option got me up and going but not after I had spent a long time in transition putting on my shoes, going to the bathroom and ingesting some calories. I figured I could probably plod through this run and still finish in a decent time. I had long ago thrown out any of my previous time goals and now was just trying to finish respectfully. 

As I trudged out of transition and up the big hill to stat the run, the gentleman of NOW Bikes who had sold me my bike (and had been kind enough to give me a water bottle for the same bike that morning) wished me a good run.

"I don't think it is going to be one," I said.

Run: 1:59:02 (29th overall)

This run started out far better than I could have expected. The first two miles were right around 8 minutes per. Then out of nowhere, assisted by some downhill, I threw down a 7:31 mile. "There you go, buddy!" I said, outloud, to myself.  That's hilarious in hindsight.

Even as the hills undulated for miles 4 and 5, I still hung around 8 minutes per mile. I was thinking that if I ran a 1:42 half after this whole day, and thinking about quitting, that would be a huge victory. Then we turned onto a dirt road. Damn it. I just knew some more hills on dirt were coming.

So many hills, Part Deux.

The next mile had four uphills in it including one where I just flat out began walking. I was pissed that I did but it was necessary. Even though I had already passed four runners and was catching up to others, I know when I need to walk. Here I saw the lead runner coming back and man, it sure didn't seem like he was THAT far in front of me. It couldn't have possibly have been the first runner. I must have missed him somehow. 

I filled the bottle I was carrying at the turn-around point and began to try to track down runners in front of me. But ever little gradient of an uphill began to tug at my ankles. My 7th mile was a gallant effort to stay on the right side of the pacing with an 8:30 but then my 8th and 9th miles were both basically 9:30 with walk breaks each. Two runners I had passed in the beginning passed me and I did everything I could to stay with them, running my last good mile of the day in 8:31.  Getting back onto pavement and off the dirt road helped.

Then the heat of the day (mid to high 70s by this point) and whatever else finally got to me as the long

sloping hills, and the short steep hills often brought me to a crawl. My last three miles were 11:02, 10:14, and, egads 13:05. It took everything I had to run down the last hill (I had twice stopped running DOWNhill previously) and cross the finish.

My atrocious time of 5:49:38 was over an hour off of what I was hoping to do today. I guess if you take off the extra bike miles and if I had just held the previous pace in the last three miles of the run it would have only been 40 minutes off, but regardless I was done.  Cooked. Spent.

I took 22nd overall and somehow got 3rd place in my age group, but those are always just a by product of who shows up. I had a super tough ending where I just sorta collapsed after the finish and the EMTs came over to me. I had a hard time convincing them I was fine and I just needed a few minutes. They were super kind and attentive. I kept insisting while I looked like a wreck, I would be fine soon. Sure enough, after about 20 minutes after I laid down, I was putting my gear on my bike and pushing up the infernal hill to my car. (Funnily enough, I was driving away when I heard my name announced for my age group award and had to stop my car and bound down some stairs to pick it up. I was beyond shocked at how spry I felt when 30 minutes prior I was feeling on death's door.)

A runner I met about a month ago told me he had done this tri before and it was tough. Runners often downplay how tough things are. I am not sure why. I don't know if they want to sound like they are badass or they don't want to complain or they don't want to psyche others out. So when one just says "ooh, that's tough" listen to them.

This was tough.

But it is done. And I cannot tell you how happy I am I finished it. I think I would have been happy with the drop to the AquaBike or even the DNF after the bike, to be honest. But I made it through this and am shockingly feeling good the next day when I write this recap. I have some abrasions on my ankle from a waterlogged shoe, my neck is a bit chafed as I forgot to lube it up for the swim, and my muscles are a little tired. But I did a short recovery run after watching my beloved Chicago Bears stink up the field and it doesn't even really feel like I did one of the hardest races of my life yesterday. To be honest, this is a bit confusing. I feel like I shouldn't be THIS good in my recovery after one solid night's sleep.

Time to rest up, heal, and remove this monkey from my back. Tri season is more or less done up here (or at least on weekends I am free) so I don't know when the next foray will be but I think it will be in the Olympic distance.  Less bike, more swim, please.  

And hopefully less hills.

Marquette Half Marathon Recap

A Runner's Ramblings: Volume 17; 8th Edition
117.9 miles raced in 2023 races
Race: Marquette Half Marathon
Place: Marquette, MI
Miles from home: 395 miles
Weather: 70-75, humid

I don’t remember when or how I found this particular race but I know that it’s been on my schedule all year. I vaguely recall thinking that this weekend would be good to get away from some potential warmth in the Twin Cities and catch some nice cool breezes and maybe even some fall temps up in the upper peninsula of Michigan. Then it showed it was going to be warm everywhere in the world as race day approached and all of that went out of the window. 

For all intents and purposes, the race delivered on what they promised and was what I thought it would be regardless of the weather. There were a few things that are different than what might be expected and I will get into those in the recap, but, when it comes to being disappointed with how the race went personally, that’s just one of those things about racing. It is often disappointing.

I don’t read virtually anything with regards to recipes on the Internet but apparently I have seen from enough memes that instead of just giving the recipe, people will drone for multiple paragraphs before they get to three cloves of diced onions or whatever. I guess I’m kind of doing that right now before I get to the actual recap because when you’ve written about 400 of these and it seems you’re mostly doing it for yourself, it’s nice to put thoughts down other than "I ran this fast for this distance."

As Minneapolis and the surrounding states have suffered through a warmer than average summer, I still am so happy that I’m no longer living in Austin, Texas, where I likely would’ve burst into flames this past three months. And it was the surviving similar weather for five years previously which I think has broken my brain a little. When I saw that the forecast for this race called for it to be in the low 70s with 70% humidity I thought that was pretty darn good. It is decent compared to the two straight months of triple digits that Austin has been dealing with for example. But that still doesn’t mean that it is good for me for racing. 

 

However, the morning of the race broke quite windy and cloudy with some serious gusts along the shores of Lake Superior. I thought the hardest part of the day was going to be dealing with the wind, if it turned directions from heading east (the way we were running) to into our face. But I would deal with that if it happened.

 

As I rode the school bus to the start of the half marathon at the Michigan Iron Industry Museum I didn’t think that I would be setting the world ablaze with a super fast time. But I felt that my race would give me a good idea of where I stand for the half Iron Man distance race that I would be doing the next weekend. I didn’t have to spend much time at the start to wait around as I planned, taking the last bus to the start. I just wanted to get to running. There was a very relaxed vibe amongst everyone almost like a race wasn't just about to happen. With just a few minutes before the start, I meandered to the front of the line, positioned myself about 30 people back, which is where I thought I'd finish, and waited for the countdown.

Instead of doing this in my normal format, which is pretty tried and true, I’m going to break this race down into the three sections that I think people need to know about if they are going to race.

First Five 1/2 Miles

The countdown sent us on our way and we went down a quick first hill. After a first little bit of winding through the parking lot of the museum, and then around a cemetery, across a road, and onto a dirt path, we made a left turn onto the Iron Ore Heritage trail. I had spoken to some people who had run the race previously while waiting for the bus, and they told me that the trail was half paved and half gravel. It ends up they were just about exactly right. You’ll see from where are you join the trail at just about 1 mile in, until mile 5 1/2 , the Heritage trail is a mixture of small rocks, gravel, dirt, and in one place underneath a bridge, some iron ore pellets. That was pretty interesting. 

 

And while the race page will tell you the first 5 miles are all flat, that is definitely not the case. In fact, tween miles three and four, there are more than a few little risers. I’m not saying that this is the end of the world or that you’re climbing up Mount Everest but when you are told that it’s flat or downhill, and you have more than a few quick little risers in front of you, it can really play with your brain.It can play with your brain even more when what is supposed to feel easy right around seven minute miles continues to get slower and slower as sweat pours down from your head and soon soak your entire body. 

 

These first 5 1/2 miles are for the most part either shaded by trees or have enough forest foliage to block any winds of any nature. Although, given how much sweating I was doing in what was not all THAT bad of weather (roughly 70 degrees and 70 % humidity). What was bumming me out was efforts that felt like 6:45 minute mile were being closer to 7:05. As such, I decided that instead of fighting against what was obviously not going to happen, that I would just try to mitigate these first miles and when the downhills started, hopefully pick up the pace.

5.5 miles  to 10 miles

If you look at the elevation profile, it says from mile five to mile nine you lose nearly 100 feet per mile. That should normally be something that I take severe advantage of but today was not the case. While I definitely picked up the pace a good 15 seconds per mile for the first three miles of this portion, by the 8 mile I was right back into the slog that I had been feeling earlier. What should’ve been me being light on my feet but instead me listening to the sweat slog through my socks of my drenched shoes. I didn’t realize as the race slowly evens out between the ninth and 10th mile that this was the beginning of the end of the race for me. 

 

What is nice about this course that is being run on this trail is that on multiple occasions it crosses roads where your supporters can come out and easily see you multiple times. I actually became "race buddies" with more than a few different spectators. Even when I am struggling, I do my absolute best to try to be friendly to people who are out there cheering us all on. But by the time we hit the 10th mile and the race completely ended for me, I didn't even have the energy for that.

Mile 10 the to Finish

I’m not sure if it was because it was Labor Day weekend or what exactly but there was another festival going on which brought a lot of spectators down to this area of beautiful downtown Marquette. There were plenty of people out there and even if they weren’t cheering you on, just having some bodies around you is energy that you can feed off of. This energy is something I’ve missed in a lot of my races in the past 5 to 10 years where I’ve happened to get away from the big city races and spent more time on the trails or a small town marathons. It gets a little bit lonely out there and sometimes just feels like a long training run. So having bodies around you feels good especially when you are feeling bad .

 

As we passed the mile 10 marker and I grabbed two big glasses of water and came to a dead stop. I was definitely feeling bad. I won’t bore you with details about the last 5K, but suffice it to say, I stopped a minimum of four more times. Sometimes for a break of water and sometimes just try to gather the energy to push through. 

 

There was a bathroom permanently placed on the trail with a drinking fountain that signs along the race alerted you to. I wasn't exactly thirsty but I stopped anyway.  This water fountain was one of the coldest fountains I’ve ever had in my life. I wanted to just pulled up a chair and pour all the water on me. I’m not saying that I really needed the water as I was still sweating profusely, but it sure perked my spirits up. 

 

The final stretch was a little bit cruel as we ran up to where we were finishing and then back away from it just to come back up again. The course seemed more than a little bit long as well which added about a minute to my overall time, but considering I lost probably five minutes in the last 5K, it really didn’t matter.

 

I finished 58th overall in a time of 1:38:05 in what would be my 104th worst half marathon out of 120 in my lifetime. This is definitely not what I was hoping would build my confidence for the triathlon next weekend. The forecast predicts a better day and man do I need that.  This has been a tough year for me, in racing and life and my confidence is definitely shaken. I know am in the best cycling shape I’ve ever been no matter what the weather is that shouldn’t be a problem on the bike. Regardless, I made it through another race, collected a non-precious medal and am still standing. No race finish is guaranteed until you finish so that's my silver lining.

Fontana Days Run Recap

A Runner's Ramblings: Volume 17; 7th Editions
104.8 miles raced in 2023 races
Race: Fontana Days Run
Place: Fontana, CA
Miles from home: 1882 miles
Weather: 50-60s; slight wind and dry with bright sun

Every time I have travel problems going to a race I think back to my 52 marathons in 52 weekends and still can’t believe that it happened. Yes, running a marathon for 52 marathons in a row is what most people find impressive, but to me it is two other things.

1. Averaging a 3:21 for every marathon while working a full-time job with some seriously difficult marathons in there (e.g., Leadville); and

2. the fact that I made it to every race when the race started on race day. 

That’s why I always cringe a little bit when I hear someone say they are doing so many "marathons" in so many days when they’re actually just running 26.2 miles and not actually going to a race. Getting there on race day is almost half of the accomplishment. As I have said for a long time, you can't get to the finish line if you don't make it to the starting line. Which almost didn’t happen for me this race this weekend.

Can anyone explain this logo to me?

Two days before the Fontana Days Run I was looking at my schedule and realized that the race I thought was on Sunday was actually on Saturday. Therefore, my flight that got me in at midnight to LA, then me needing to get a rental car and drive to Fontana would probably get me in around 2 a.m.  That means I would likely get three hours of sleep, max, and that was even if I could find a way to get my packet and bib number. Egads. Fortunately, I was able to change my flight to Friday morning but that still didn’t leave me much leeway. The leeway then got even less (smaller? What is the measuring amount for leeway?) After landing, I had the absolute worst rental car experience I’ve ever had when it took over two hours just to get through the line at the Thrifty car rental place. Then I was booked for an electric vehicle. I am all for the EVs but I had no idea where to charge one so I had to "upgrade" (in cost) to a gas guzzler.  Doing all this finally got me on the road...right into the thick of Los Angeles Friday afternoon traffic

Nearly three hours later I finished the 67 mile trip to Fontana. Hell, I can RUN 50 miles in ~6.5 hours. This left me just enough time to go pick up my packet, check into my hotel, grab some food, and climb into bed. Suffice it to say, I didn’t have many good feelings about how this race would go.

Race Morning:

 

After what was actually a good night's sleep I got up, drove to where the buses would take runners to the start of this downhill Half Marathon, and parked my car. I quickly used the bathroom and got on the last bus. My stomach was grumbling from the WAY too much food I had eaten the previous evening as I was starving but I tried to ignore it. An uneventful ride the the start popped us out not much more than 10 minutes before the race would start. That was a pretty darn seamless transition, especially when compared to the previous day.

 

Lining up, I didn’t have any of the normal jitters because I had more or less decided that this wasn’t going to go well. As such I just kind of stood there looking at everybody else feeling nervous or excited and waited for the starting pistol. The pistol was actually an airhorn which I think many races need to learn has to be fired once or twice before its first use. Even then it can't be a timid use. You have to push that button down nice and hard. Otherwise, you get the the "dying duck" signal we got to go.  

 

But away we went!

 

First 5k:

I immediately had to make my way through three or four lines of people who shouldn't have been at the start line. I will never ever ever ever ever ever ever ever understand why people do that. Ever.

 

As we made our way down this winding canyon, I felt extraordinarily out of breath. The stomach gurgling

continued. I had a feeling this was not gonna be a good day at all. I decided I would use the opening downhill miles the best I could and just see what happened after that. When I hit the 1st mile in 5:55 I realized part of the reason this felt labored was because I was about 25 seconds faster than I thought that I was! I instantly throttled back to conserve because I knew after the first 5 miles was over, while the race continued downhill, it would not be the same amount per mile and would feel flat. The next 2 miles presented me with a 6:24 and a 6:27, which was closer to the average I wanted to run but definitely were slower than I was expecting.

 

The canyon was providing us shade from the sun, the air was dry and the temps were cool(ish).  I vividly recall thinking that if I was in decent shape this would be easily be a day where I ran 1:22. But you can only run in the shape you currently are so I left right continued.

To the 10K: 

 

As we continue down the winding canyon road, I again marveled at how bad people are at running the tangents.  If you read my recaps, this is a constant refrain but it remains true.  Why run further than you have to?! After the first mile I had watched the first overall female slide past me and right around the third mile the second female had done the same. I kept expecting more to pass me any second now but none did even as a runner here and there did just that. I also thought I might begin to reel in a few runners here and there who went out faster than they should have and that did indeed begin to happen.  I also began some see-saw battles with some runners who would surge in front of me, and then I would pass them and we would continue this dance as the miles went on. I love playing these little games in the middle of races.  Who is in better shape? Who is running the course better? Who will eventually have the best kick? People who say the ones in the back of the pack have the most fun have no idea what they are talking about.  This is serious fun at 6 minutes per mile.

 

The mile markers were a little askew here and there, so it was hard to really get a feel for where I was, but I simply kept pushing what felt good without pushing too hard. Right after the 5th mile we more or less flattened out and came into the sunshine at the same time. I could see fairly far in front of me and began to memorize the shirt colors of the runners in front of me.  It always feels good to think "Ah yes, bright orange shirt.  I have been tracking you for three miles. Oh don't worry, purple tights, I haven't forgotten about you either." The miles here all hovered right around the 6:30 mark which again made me bummed.  Maintaining that pace when the hills flattened was going to be hard.

To Mile 10:

This next section really frustrated me greatly as No matter how hard I continue to push I kept coming up with less than mediocre miles. 6:49, 6:50, and 6:52 is what I netted even as I tried to pick up the pace. I had a few people passing me here and there. They would pull me along for a little bit, but then I would fall back, unable to maintain their pace. At one point there was a cyclist coming at me on my side of the road. This raod is completely closed to traffic (excellent stuff by the race organizers, for real) and he seem to be filming something with his phone. The entire road was open for him but for some reason he felt he needed to continue right at me. I finally had a few choice words to him, and he finally moved. What ended up being the third place female, who was happening right beside me at the time, let out a little bit of a laugh. I think she saw what was going on and agreed with my assessment.

 

We soon passed under the freeway after an unscenic but also uneventful past two miles.  Doing so meant that the remaining 4.5 miles would be one single straight shot to the finish.  Two young fellas passed me, including one who I had been playing cat and mouse with a few miles before. The other, I think named "Maverick Chamberlain" (now that's a name) looked quite fresh and was listening to music on his iPhone in his hand. I was in no mood to race kids who could easily be my children, so I let them go. But about a minute later I heard some footsteps behind me and I said to myself that I was not gonna let whoever that was past me until the 9th mile. I did just that, and in the process passed both youngsters again, and never saw them the rest of the way. That little spurt felt so good giving me a 6:33 mile.  It didn't even feel that hard and I felt if I could keep it up for the last four miles I might still eke out a 1:25. When the footsteps did pass me, I threw myself in behind the guy and decided to use his energy. We passed more than a few runners and I felt wonderful.  Then I saw my split for the next mile was 6:45.  Damn it.   I still had a 5k left to make up the distance.  Let's go, Dane!

 

To the Finish: 

 

Not so fast, Dane! In spite of staying with my pace car human, I ran an even slower 6:49 for the 11th mile. This was confounding to me on this straightaway. And when I say "straightaway" mean, one long street straight through Fontana. It was so enjoyable to just simply turn off the brain, and do left right, repeat for mile after mile without having to worry about one turn, or one curve, or any traffic at all. This race is part of the Fontana Days festival and they shut down this long stretch of multiple lane highway to all traffic, which is pretty impressive. 

 

Yet even while I was passing a runner here and there (and oodles of 5k walkers, grrrrr, stop walking many many abreast) My next mile was AGAIN slower at 6:50.  Not only had I lost any chance of 1:25:xx but now I was in danger of not running a 1:26.

 

With a mile to go, I passed the third overall female. She didn't look like she was slowing so maybe, just maybe, I was finally speeding up. I could see the finish line way in the distance with about five minutes of running left and tried to dig deep. Weaving in and out of the 5k walkers, trying to run the shortest possible distance, I knew it was going to be close. With about two blocks ago, I looked at my watch, and I couldn’t tell if I was going to break 1:27 or not. I got a little deflated for a few seconds and actually laid off the throttle. What's the difference, I thought. Then a fire lit under me again, and I answered myself:  the difference is you WANT it. So I gritted my teeth and pushed one final time. But just a few yards short of the finish I could see the clock tick over to 1:27. I gave too little too late. Crapola. 

 

I finished in 1:27:04.

This was good enough for my 25th fastest half marathon and five seconds faster than the Ventura marathon back in April which also pissed me off for being over 1:26. What can you do? Just a few days after my 47th birthday, I finished 46th overall.

This was my fourth half marathon and marathon in the past five weeks. Mixed results overall but I will take what I have and learn from it. A summer of training awaits me as I attempt to do something I haven't done in 12 years and hopefully faster than I did even then!

Overall this was a very well-run event. Just big enough to make you feel like you have some people around you but not so big that you get overwhelmed by all the business going on around you. There's a reason this is the 68th running of this race and it is clear that the city gets behind it, which I always love for an event. When it is clear it inconveniences some people with a road being closed for a few hours on a Saturday morning and there is still a good turnout, you know the city takes pride in what they have. I don't know if these temps are normal for this time of year in this part of the country but for a June race, this is one I would recommend.

Prairie Series Half Marathon South Dakota and North Dakota Recaps

A Runner's Ramblings: Volume 17; 5th and 6th Editions
91.7 miles raced in 2023 races
Race: Prairie Series Half Marathon South Dakota and North Dakota
Place: Baltic, SD and Wahpeton ND
Miles from home: 246 miles and 201 miles
Weather: Mid 50s; humid; kinda smoky

A year ago on the day when I started these back to back half marathons, I was on my third straight day of running six back-to-back half-marathons in New England. I can tell you today as I relax back home, that I’m very happy I’m not running another half marathon! Which is more a testament to how it is amazing what people can do when they decide to do a specific goal than anything else. Knowing going into the endeavor last year that I was doing six in a row last year, I am convinced I couldn't do another. But if I had planned to do seven, well, I am sure I would have. So much is about mindset.

When I was putting together my year for racing, I had a lot of different things in mind, some of which have stayed the same and some of which have changed. Running these two half marathons on back to back days in South and North Dakota was a relatively recent addition. it checked off both me racing a half marathon in those states for the first time as well as another geeky thing that I am doing where I am trying to visit every county in the United States. Having said that, even though I was to one extent, simply checking the box for a race in a certain state that doesn’t mean that I also don’t want to run as fast as I can on a well designed course.

I knew both of these races would not exactly be my favorite type of course going in, so I’m hardly surprised to say that both more or less fit my expectation. There’s no way I can say this without someone still reading into it incorrectly, but I am going to try anyway. The people who put on the Mainly Marathons seem to be very nice people indeed. They know what the vast majority of their runners want and have provided that.  A warm and welcoming atmosphere where even the slowest of the slow receive a very neat medal attached to an even neater medal holder with plenty of support along the way. However, it’s quite clear that at least on the courses that I ran, these courses skew quite long and are also not meant to help people run their fastest. This might not mean much to most of their clientele, who are obviously there just to do the check-in of a box or meet a life goal without much pressure, but for me, when I am racing, I don’t want to run any further than I have to. Again, I knew all of this going in, so I am not surprised, and I am not lambasting the organizers. The events just weren't my cop of tea. And I won them both. So it's not sour grapes.

South Dakota:

The course for what was Day One for me but Day Six for many participants, was shaped like a shepherds crook.  We began in the curly portion at the top, looped around a few twist and then ran along the "staff" portion for a bit.  Up the smallest of a hill we turned around a cone and went back. The thing is, if we didn't actually go up that tiny hill, I think this might have actually been close to the right distance.  That's what happens when you run the same course 12 times for a half! 

As we were given final instructions by the amiable race director,as to how the course will be run, it was mentioned that they purposely measure these courses long to make sure that they fit Boston marathon qualifying standards. This is exactly what many races do that in order to make up for the fact that a cone might be miss placed somewhere and they don’t want people to get short-changed on their run. But when you have such a short course and each loop is a little long, you end up with way more than you need. 

I noticed at we listened to the directions a man who had run the previous two states in the series was on hand to run his third marathon in as many days. Having just run on either side of three hours the previous two days (2:58:373:04:32) I was surprised he was still standing.  That's a heck of a run with no rest. I could tell he was looking at me like "Who is the new guy?  He looks fresh.  Damn it." because that's exactly what I had done on day four of my six last year. I figured he would soon figure out I was running the half and to not worry too much.

We directed that all of the Mainly Marathon races have runners grabbing a rubber band at the end of each lap to help them keep track of how many they have done. This seems far simpler than it actually is, especially if you are trying to maintain speed. Before much longer, we were off.

The race director led us out on the course like a rabbit showing us how to run the course.  I stayed in his back pocket hoping to run right around 7 minutes per mile. I could tell the fast marathoner was just off my shoulder and I wanted to tell him I wasn't in his race but as we passed the first 180-degree turnaround, he passed me. I had zero desire to race him today even if he was doing double the distance that I was, because I was here to run as fast as I could and hopefully win. I was surprised, however to see a small young lady behind me not too far pushing the pace as well. As we went back down the course and made the first turn to grab a rubber band, I instead grabbed two.  I didn't know if this was a foul so I tried to toss it back onto the table. I think I hit another runner/walker in the back. Whoops.

The course was all on dirt or crushed gravel, which definitely slows you down compared to running on the road.  I saw some people parroting the physically incorrect statement about how the dirt felt better on their knees that the road races they usually run and just shook my head. Sometimes, just ignoring people is best.  (What are you talking about, Dane? Well, your foot hits the ground with the same force regardless of what surface you are running on. Running on softer or uneven surfaces like grass or dirt do nothing for the impact, but they actually DO make you work harder, and can hurt your ankles and joints because of said unevenness. Which actually tires you out more. But I will just be over here with my correct but unpopular knowledge. Because people "feel" something does something regardless of what it does.) 

That said, I was pretty pleased how in the first 3 to 4 miles I was maintaining a 1:35 marathon pace. As the fast marathoner continued on, actually increasing his lead increase on me, I noticed that the female runner behind me was running the 5K. I was a little bit bummed she was as I was hoping for someone to push me along other than just the marathoner. However, that’s how the rest of the race went. Me occasionally making up a little distance on the guy running the marathon, but mostly just going through the motions. 

The weather was pretty humid and a low-level fog and hazed continued on for most of the day. It was only later I learned that the wildfires in Canada were creating this haze. I don't feel it affected my running and at least kept the sun at bay for most of the day. It also made for a lovely sunrise.

On at least two other occasions, I had a muff up on trying to grab a rubber band as my had was too sweaty. Also, with lots of people coming in at their own paces, and the feed table being right in this tight spot, there was plenty of milling around going on. When I am running hard, I really don't like milling around. Alas.

When it became clear that I was going to run much longer than a half marathon I was a little bummed. Granted I was using these races as hard training runs but I also didn't want them to artificially inflate my lifetime average. This is beyond nitpicking but all of racing is. This is all frivolous. But that doesn't mean it doesn't matter to me.  I have been trying to get my lifetime average under 1:30 for a few years and running a 1:39:06, like I would end up running today, when the course was a half mile (3.5 minutes worth of running) was a bummer.

I got my very nice medal, wished all those still running good luck, and headed back to my hotel. Time to shower, pack, and drive four hours to the next state.

After driving through all of South Dakota I got to North Dakota did a little bit of sightseeing, including checking out the "Wahpper"; a 40-foot long fiberglass sculpture of a catfish beside the Red River of the North in Wahpeton, ND (get it?) and also the Tent Pole Monument to Circus Dead. Yes, I am still single. Why do you ask?

Then it was time for bed. Fortunately, I was much closer to the start of this race than I was the previous day.  I had to drive 20 miles from Sioux Falls to Baltic and also pick up my bib number. For this race I was less than three miles away, had my bib, and as such could catch an extra 20 minutes of sleep! 

This course was a little different than some of the others the Mainly Marathons people put on as it included a slightly different first lap due to some changes in the park we were running in that didn't allow them their normal starting point. 

Like the day before, and I’m assuming every day, the race director took the lead runner on a tour of the course. It’s clear he is quite speedy and it was nice to have this rabbit for the first three miles of the course.  as we approached the end of the first loop,the RD told me that I did not have to grab the rubber bands off the table this time as long as I could remember how many laps I was on.  I think it was clear to him I had difficulty the day before so this was greatly appreciated.  I said "I think I can count to five."

And then, from there, on out, it was simply the same thing as the day before. Dodging runners and trying not to get in their way as well (they paid for the race, too) while also not trying to run too much further than I had to on each lap. People were very friendly and encouraging. I tried my best to do the same. I sometimes got in my head and didn't say it to someone I had just seen in the opposite direction four minutes earlier but I hope they will forgive me.

I could tell that today's course was going to be even longer than the previous day and with absolutely no competition whatsoever it was hard to push myself that fast. The same runner doing the 5K the day before I was again doing it today so that was a nice little push.  That only lasted  for 25% of the race, however.  I did see her out running the course with a marathoner which was nice of her to do. But for me it was simply concentrating on running hard on the one mile of each loop that was paved and then trying to find the best places to run on the back half of each mile which was gravel and dirt road.

In spite of the wildfires in Alberta, we lucked out in the weather department. Mid 50s with mostly cloudy skies helped combat the relatively high humidity. Nevertheless, I was completely drenched in both races. I was also doing an experiment of sorts by running both of these half marathons without taking a single drop of liquid. Being these were also my third and fourth races in the last past 19 (one marathon and three half marathons) I was surprised how unsore I was even if I wasn’t necessarily running as fast as I would like. That’s something to look into for sure in the coming months when I try to change my training up and see if there still are some fast races in these old legs. The lack of soreness tells me that I can run faster but I don’t know if that engine still burns as hot to turn the legs over and allow me to do so.

My mind drifted to my mom here and there. Most of what I am writing here I would bore her with in a post-race recap. Then in a nanosecond I would remember that I can't tell her any of this boring stuff anymore. I would then try to shake that feeling off and find something else to think about.

All told, my GPS, which usually skews low, told me I ran 13.55 miles (I later measured it online and came up with 13.85 miles) for a near-identical-to-yesterday time of 1:39:13. 

Two more races in two new states, two more wins, 23 new counties visited, and some snazzy medals. These were my 110th and 111th (out of 118) slowest marathons ever but likely closer to 90th and 91st if the courses were right.  Either way, I have another half in two weeks where I hope to set the course for the rest of the year with my first race as a 47 year old. I am making a prediction here of a 1:24. Let's see how right I am.

(Oof, just looked at the forecast and it looks like it will be in the 70s during race time in Fontana, California. Let's hope for low humidity and some tree cover!)