Björn Borg Helsinki Half-Marathon Recap

A Runner's Ramblings: Volume 20; 10th Edition 
131 miles run in 2026 races
Race: Björn Borg Helsinki Half-Marathon
Place: Helsinki, Finland
Miles from home: 4397 miles
Weather: 60 degrees; 90% humidity 

On a training run in Minneapolis recently, the weather had abated for a bit and the humidity dipped below 50%. It was still 79 degrees, hardly cool, but I did one of my fastest training runs of recent memory. I told myself, and titled the Strava run "Have to remind myself that I’m not that slow". The point was, no matter how often it happens, when the humidity drops to a semi-acceptable level, I am suddenly reminded that yes I am currently our of shape and recovering once again from issues but if I can still run decent speeds. Similarly, when it is super humid, I am going to struggle. Why I think that suddenly, at age 50, this is going to change, I don't know. Sure, the lower temperature wit ha higher humidity is "better" than a higher temperature with the same humidity, but high humidity means rough day for Dane.

The humidity during this race in Helsinki was 90%.

 After I finished me 50 state quest of running a half-marathon and a marathon in all states before I turned 50 a week before my birthday in May, I was beat. After knee replacement surgery in February of 2025, I began running again in late June. From then until January of this year it was an upward swing of improvement. Then I had a right calf muscle problem. I DNFd a 30k in preparation for my final marathon. Then I absolutely destroyed my left quad muscle for no discernible reason. Somehow I finished the marathon in a decent time but March, April, and May basically left me hobbling through half-marathons in either disgusting humidity or insane elevation.

Then on my birthday I ran my longest training run since the left quad went kaput/ A whopping 5 miles. But I was able to be consistent. 30-ish mile weeks. Building up. Even dealing with the summer weather I was getting better. I decided to do a week of 6 milers on the treadmill to avoid the heat and humidity.  On the third day, my right hamstring twanged. That was July 14th. I took another 8 days off. Finally started going again on the 22nd of July. Which means I had one month to basically have my third comeback in three years.

But I was slow. Lethargic. Still overweight. Running was not fun.  I eked out a 7.65 miler outside and then a 10 miler on the treadmill two and one week before this race respectively. I got to race morning in the best possible shape I could.

Race Morning: 

The forecast had called for clouds, some rain, and 90% humidity throughout the day. Waking up to a gorgeous blue sky was confusing. If it was going to be humid, I was hoping it would at least be cloudy to keep the sun off my back. Alas, this was not the case.

I had booked my lodging not even 500 meters away from the start. Even with the odd start time of 8:10 a.m. I didn't bother to rouse myself until 7 a.m.  I leisurely dressed and moseyed down to the start positioning myself between the 1:40 and 1:45 pace groups. I really hoped that I would be able to stay here all race.

I looked around at all the people in my area and remembered how tall Scandinavians are (even though, I hope you know but you do now, Finland is not part of Scandinavia.) I had also been confused why this was the Björn Borg Helsinki Half-Marathon when he is Swedish.  Then I found out Björn Borg is an apparel company named after him. Given I am running a half-marathon in Stockholm next weekend, his birthplace, you can see how I might be a bit confused about where I was!

A Finnish countdown to zero (I think) and away we went!


First 5K:

Being as far back as I was, something I have rarely done as a runner, meant I had to contend with a lot more people, especially in a race of this size. I am not sure why but I wasn't expecting nearly 3500 finishers for this race.  Our first mile had a slight rise in it and I was paying too much attention to the runners around me to worry about my time. Some were running on the sidewalk, some where running on the road and I didn't want to twist an ankle.

When my first mile was 7:20, I did a double take. I hadn't seen a 7:20 mile this year, I don't think. I thought I might have gone out too fast and was going to pay handsomely for this hubris. I tried to pull it back a little bit but went even faster for the second mile.  By now I was already drenched in sweat and was aching to find shade anywhere. There wasn't much.

Few of the runners seemed to know anything about running the tangents and as there were so many people around me I couldn't really run them either. So I slipped to the far left and did my best to not tangle feet.  My third mile was a bit slower, even more than I felt and I was hoping I had got things under control.  We went through a lovely little area of town that felt sorta collegiate with brick-walled building and cobblestones.  I was happy these were not uneven rocks but rather smooth and solid.  But with the mist from the nearby bay kept things a bit slick.

To the 10K:

I had a white-haired gentleman slip right in front of me as I approached the fourth mile. White as in Scandinavian blonde not white as in old.  And when I say slipped right in frot of me, I mean almost to the point of tripping me. It was odd as there was no reason for him to do so as there was virtually no one around us. I had found a little pocket between large groups and while I do not attribute his actions to malice, they pissed me off anyway.  I went around him to the right and began running up the hill to the bridge we were about to cross.

I ran down the small embankment right as we hit the fourth mile. A little slower than I was hoping given the effort but more importantly this might be the first time since my knee surgery that I have run down a hill and felt great. Running downhill used to be my forte and I was wondering if I would ever be able to regain some of that and this felt like bliss.  Of course the uphill on the other side slowed me as usual but that was ok!

We crossed another bridge and I saw the sign for the zoo.  I then remembered I wanted to go to this island zoo (and later in the day I did.) I was utterly drenched in sweat at this juncture and noticed my safety pin had already torn through my bub number. As a heavy sweater I am used to this, especiallly if the bib is more paper than laminated.  I took a few seconds to re-pin it as I was running which oddly took a lot of energy out of me. I ran my slowest mile of the day here.

Onto 10 miles:

At one street crossing, after a small hill, I crossed in front of an active trolley that race officials stopped for me.  Seconds later they let it pass which seemed odd to me as I know there were runners right behind me.  But then I noticed that it appears they simply redirected the runners down the street before the trolley and then let them pass on the backside of it as it went by.  I thought that was incredibly impressive and would likely requite some serious training.  If that was the plan and worked all day long (as it seemed to be the case later in the race as well) kudos to the organizers and volunteers.

Down under a large array of trains we went and the tunnel felt great. As I struggled up the hill on the other side I had a few people cut me off to make the right hand turn. I really don't know if people are just oblivious to others around them or what but if I need any motivation to run faster it is to be amongst fewer people who can do this. 

I noticed that this was one of the few places any spectators had gathered. I then thought that, for the most part, urban marathons are no fun if there are not copious amounts of spectators. Running on bike paths or street amongst the concrete jungle doesn't really do it for me if there aren't throngs cheering. 

We went through shaded park area and man did I need that. As I cut a turn close I noticed we had a bit of a hill to conquer so I put my head down. I only barely noticed that I had passed the 1:40 pace group. "They can't be running right on time," I thought before falling back into my thoughts. I also noticed this was my slowest mile of the race so far.  Hold it together, Dane.

Down a quick hill where I again felt great we burst into the sunshine. Through some buildings and some people and I just had a 5k to go.  

Taking it Home:

I don't even know how to describe this but after the first mile of the final 5k which included this awesome bridge, I came up to an area where we had just run the other side of under an underpass. I came up and immediately almost ran into people coming off a trolley. I assumed I had somehow got off course but there were course marshals ushering me along. I ran about a tenth of a mile and was directed to my right where I rejoined other runners. I didn't think to look behind me to see if I had gotten off course or other runners had gone the same way but I felt totally off. (I looked after and that was supposedly the course. IT just felt so odd.)

Now I just had two miles to go. We ran around a harbor with ships to our right. I was faltering a little bit and a few runners were passing me but I looked like I was not only going to run a sub-1:40 but set a new knee half-marathon PR.  This was inconceivable just that morning. 

I then recalled there was this cruel little out and back of about half a mile and then I couldn't do math anymore. Was I still going to PR? Had I messed up again? I just had to run with the people around me. 

Down a tree-lined boulevard we went, with the previous days outdoor expo to our left.  I could see the finish (or is it Finnish) line arch to my right in the distance. I didn't exactly push it hard but I didn't let up either.  

I crossed the line in 1:38:36 - my 112th slowest half marathon ever but the fastest I have run in three years and the fastest with my new knee by 17 seconds.

Post-race, I was merely tired and that was only after another three-mile walk around the hilly zoo. No real muscle soreness to speak of. I am just out of running shape.  My goal is to get my half back under 1:30. If I can do that, I will consider this recovery a success.  If not, we will see what the future holds.

The immediate future is a Björn Borg-less half-marathon in Stockholm in less than a week. It will be a harder course than this one but possibly less humid but a bit warmer. The kicker? It begins at 3 p.m. I THRIVE (or at least used to) in races that are run in the afternoon or evening. Here's hoping for another surprise!

A Half-Marathon in All 50 States: Looking Back and Forward

 

A decade ago I had just finished my 87^th lifetime half-marathon. At the time I had only run a half-marathon in 25 states. Doing one in all 50 states had likely crossed my mind but it wasn’t a big goal of mine. Having run 52 marathons in 52 weekends and making a name and living off of that, half-marathons were races I enjoyed but rarely ran. In fact, on the day I ran my lifetime 100^th marathon in 2009, I had only raced 13 half-marathons.

But that day in Miami in 2016, I had just finished running a 1:28:56, my 41^st fastest half-marathon.  Almost exactly in the middle of the pack. (Less than a month after I had fallen and received a spiral fracture in my hand. The pictures of the race show me still wearing the brace.) I saw that my lifetime average of half-marathons that day was 1:30:14. I remember talking to another running friend and numbers nerd who told me something like it would take a good ten half-marathons around 1:27 or so to get that average under 1:30. That shouldn’t be a problem, I thought.

The next week I ran a 1:29:57 on an indoor track around anice rink. Not bad, but not what I was hoping. Then I proceeded to run 1:32:00, 1:31:47, 1:34:55, 1:36:21, 1:32:59 in my next five half-marathons. I was now at 1:30:25 lifetime average; 9 seconds slower in the wrong direction. Granted there were some extenuating circumstances for some of the slower times (two of them were on back-to-back days in July) but I thought this might be a touch harder than I originally surmised.

In Utah, 1:22:32 was my next race, just days after I moved halfway across the country. One race knocked an entire five seconds off of my average. It is still my 4^th fastest half-marathon to this day. Then Trump won the election. What does that have to do with anything? Well, I was avery early and vocal disapprover of the child rapist. This cost me virtuallyevery sponsorship I had, oodles of speaking engagements, and essentially mylivelihood. Racing took a back seat. When I did race, it was often a bit unprepared and not always in the best of mindsets.

I only ran five halfs in 2017 (including my 100^th lifetime half-marathon) and three in 2018 which also included one on a hot sandy beach in Galveston in, what was at the time, the slowest stand-alone half-marathon I had ever run - 1:48:48. I still finished 6^th overall.

In 2019, I had just come off a ridiculously good training schedule just to crap the bed in my only half-marathon of the year, running a 1:32:15when I was in PR shape.  My average, now at 104 half-marathons had crept up to 1:30:48.

In 2020, my only race in the COVID year I did one half-marathon where I took 2^nd in a time of 1:32:17 on a hilly course that was mostly in the dark. I also ran it in a mask to show all those "we can't breathe" people who freaking stupid they were. 

I did one half in 2021, and then in 2022 Itook on 6 half marathons in 6 days in 6 states with the goal to win them all. I took first in the first two, and then 2^nd in the last four races.  However, each course was usually a bit long and as I was doing six in six days so my times were quite pedestrian.  My average had climbed to 1:31:13 by the end of that week. Six years after I thought it would be a cake walk to get my time below 90 minutes, I had added a minute to my average time.

I ran a few more halfs, including a couple of 1:27s in 2023 and then disaster hit. I tore my root meniscus in my knee on Halloween night.  I didn’t know I had  at first, and while I tried to make it better, ran another 470 miles over the next four months. Finally finding out I needed surgery, I got it repaired and began the long 10 months of rehab.  From February until finally going for a three-mile run in November, I did everything right and by the book. But I knew something was up. My knee didn’t feel right. After pushing hard for another MRI, the results confirmed what I felt. The meniscus was toast. The only solution to get back to running was a partial knee replacement.

I got that surgery in February of 2025 and after hearing that I could likely be running again just four short months later, took a look at my running prospects and the calendar. I had 13 states I had not run a half-marathon in. If I began running again in July, I would have 10 months before I turned 50 to run a half-marathon in every state.  Given how I had not run in 16 months, that was a tough but not impossible challenge.  The only problem, or one of the biggest problems, is that I still hadn’t run a marathon in North Carolina. 

I had run my 49^th state in 2016 also with that broken hand.
I was going to run my 50^th in North Carolina.  On my 40^th birthday I celebrated by running 40 kilometers around a track. Quite knackered, I slept in the next day and missed the lottery for the race I wanted to enter.  Then everything I mentioned above happened. And here, ten years later, I still hadn’t run a marathon in North Carolina.

However, that happened, as I recap here.  And by then I had run a half in five more states. Throw in an international half-marathon and a half-marathon carrying a canoe in Ely, Minnesota, and I still had eight states to knock out before 05.31.26. 

I started the year off great with a new knee PR of 1:38:55in Mobile, Alabama. I figured if I played my cards right, I would possibly be running close to 1:30 in my final state, New York, on Mother’s Day weekend. This would be especially touching to me, having lost my mother just a few years ago and her being so supportive of my running for the past 25 years.

Then, late at night, I realized a crucial error. I had not run a half-marathon in Wyoming.  How had I missed that? And with my tight schedule, and Wyoming not having a lot of races in in the spring, I would be lucky to even find one. Of course, when I did, it would be the highest half-marathon I had ever run.

Unfortunately, at the beginning of February, I began to experience excruciating pains in my legs from muscle imbalances (I would late learn.)  My times were getting slower. Some of my training runs were approaching ten minutes per mile, which is two minutes per mile SLOWER than my 50 MILE personal best average.

I tried everything I could. Taking days off. Getting massages. Red light therapy. Steam rooms. Nothing was working. The big unknown was when I had three halfs in six days in three states. I can only say that I survived those, running 1:55:38, 1:50:44, and 1:54:04.  Then a week later, in Maui, the heat and humidity just destroyed me in the end, with me barely jogging the last four miles. I ran an atrocious 2:11:26. Ugh.

I bounced back slightly in another humid day in New York, what was supposed to be my final race, in 1:50:36. With one half marathon to go, my average had now climbed to 1:33:48. I had added nearly four minutes to my average from half-marathon 87 to 137.  50 races, with me adding 4.2 seconds with every race.

I stared down the downhill at the start of the Medicine Bow Half-marathon at 8700 feet. We would go down 600 feet in less than 5 miles, go back up 400 feet in the next two, and then turn around to reverse the course. Ugh Part Deux.

I finished in 2:17:34. The only slower half-marathon was the one I did, 100 days after I ran my first mile again, while PORTAGING A CANOE.

1:34:17 is my half-marathon average now. If I was a betting man I would say that it is highly unlikely I will get that time below 1:30 now.  If I ran my PR for the next 50 half-marathons, my average will still only be 1:30:29. Ok, take out the canoe half-marathon and the 70.3 Ironman half I did one month before I tore my knee (when I clearly was on a shredded knee it) and my average would be…drum roll…1:29:59. (I swear to god I did not do that on purpose.)

OK, there were a lot of numbers here to digest. If you are not a runner, your eyes probably glazed over. Hell, even if you are a runner they probably still did. A runner’s personal stats are like someone else’s dreams.  Who cares? But numbers are why I like running so much.  Other than a few caveats (bad weather, very tough course, etc.) you can look at a time for a race and make very reasonable comparisons to other races of the same distance.

After my first knee surgery, a few months later I was in Paris to watch the Olympics. I was walking every day but my knee was killing me. I told myself that if this meant my running days were over, so be it. I am a better swimmer anyway. I could make a late stage turn to masters swimming and enjoy that. Then I found out another surgery might make things better and it did. But I made a promise to myself that if I can’t be running semi-close to what I was running, even at my prime, I might go enjoy some runs, but my racing days were over. I simply don’t enjoy going slow.

Just a few days after my final state half-marathon, I appear to have found out how to fix the muscle imbalance in my legs with some physical therapy. On my birthday and the next two day I ran 5 miles outside for the first time since December.  Each run was pretty solid with me running right around 8 minutes per mile on the last two. I have signed up for some half-marathons in about three months.  I am giving myself that amount of time to lose the weight I have gained, fix my legs, and get back down to around 1:35 for a half and maybe an outside chance at sub-90 again.

I could likely write a book just about these half-marathons I have run. But the lessons I have learned boil down to one sentence: I was fortunate to do what I did. My father was crippled in a hunting accident when he was 33. My mother had a damaged heart from rheumatic fever from age 8 onward. The fact I am half a century old and miffed I can’t run a 6:52 average for 13.1 miles is a luxury. I don’t take it for granted. I also don’t use my age or the fact I can do more than whatever percentage of the world as an excuse to not keep trying to be the best version of myself that I can be.

So, I will keep on striving. I will keep pushing myself. I am sure I will fail. But I won’t ever stop doing what is best for me. I can only hope this inspires others to do the same.

Medicine Bow Half-Marathon Recap

A Runner's Ramblings: Volume 20; 9th Edition 
117.9 miles run in 2026 races
Race: Medicine Bow Half-Marathon
Place: Laramie-ish, WY
Miles from home: 848 miles
Weather: 46 degrees; 46% humidity 

I am going to try to keep this recap from bleeding into another post about finishing all 50 states with a half-marathon but it will be difficult to do so as they are so intertwined. That said, getting to the starting line of this race allowed me to take a deep breath for the first time in months.

I had a knee replacement in February of 2025. I was able to finally start doing my first mile a few months later in July after almost 16 months of not running. Combining almost two years off because of surgeries with time off from not racing because of COVID throughout our country left me with very little time to finish an overarching goal of running a marathon and a half marathon in all 50 states before I turn 50. In fact, I hadoriginally intended on finishing two weeks ago in New York until a few monthsago I realized that I did not have a race in Wyoming under my belt. How that had slipped past all of my plans is beyond me but it left me with this particular race as one of my only viable options.

What kind of race would that be? It would be the second highest I have ever started a half marathon and the highest by far that I've ever finished one. A few months ago when my running was going stellar on my return from knee surgery this might not have been nearly as challenging as it was. However, since late January/early February I've been dealing with some muscle imbalances that caused me great pain and forced me to barely run at all in that time period. So I showed up to the starting line out of shape, overweight, and still trying to get back to where I was a few years ago. But getting to the starting line meant that no missed flights, no broken down cars, no anything was now going to get in the way of me finishing this 50th state just one week before I turned 50.

Race Morning:

I awoke at 5:30 for a 7 am start time while my hotel was just a scant 8 miles away on easily drivable highways. I wanted to get in some stretching exercises my physical therapist had given to me to assure my quad and calf worked with me. Exercises done, showered and dressed, and I still found myself sitting in my car at the starting line with over a half an hour to kill.

The temperature was a lovely 46 degrees and while it was already sunny (the sun had been up before me which was shocking when I opened the drapes) there was a slight chill in the air and it was the least humid run I would have done since November.

I decided on one last bathroom break which required me to hike to the rest stop area.  Yes indeed,my final half-marathon state race was the first race I have ever did that beganat a highway rest stop!

I got back to the starting line with a minute to spare, shook out my legs, and away we went at the starter’s pistol.

To Mile 4:

Right out of the gate a guy with a dog ROCKETED down the hill. Like complete breakneck speed. I was astounded. I knew I wanted to use the mostly downhill of the first four miles ot put a little extra time in the bank. Even with a small uphill in the first half mile when I crossed the first mile I saw a 7:13 on my watch. That was pleasing. But I could feel my lungs protesting at the 8500 feet elevation we were at so I quickly slowed it down.  Almost immediately two runners passed me. The next mile was a more respectable 7:45 and another runner passed me as I continued to lay off the throttle. At this juncture other than the guy with the dog everyone was running the half marathon so I sat in fourth place. 

Not long thereafter a runner passed me running the marathon and I fell in behind him, passing the 3rd place half-marathon runner at the same time. Even as we continue to run downhill I could feel I was slowing up a touch, with my third mile being a 8:07.  I had really hoped for another sub-8 at the effort level I was doing but alas.

The sun was mostly blocked to our left buy some trees so I stayed in the shade as much as possible. Even in the cooler temps and humidity, I was still sweating profusely. 

I couldn't see what was happening at the front of the race to determine whether the woman or the young fella who had passed me at the beginning were in first place but I figured it would all shake out in the end. And if not the end I would at least see where they were when we turned around and came back home at the halfway point. Perhaps I still had a chance to win this thing.

We approached the fourth mile and after that soon was the first aid station. This was a cupless race meaning you had to carry your own container to get liquids. I appreciated the one gentleman volunteer who was out there but he didn't even have the water bottle open as I approached him looking to get my cup filled. I used that brief respite after we had crusted a small hill to drink my fill and get ready for the rest of the race.

To the Turn Around:

After a fast but steep downhill I noticed that the female runner wasn't all that far in front of me. The young buck was out of my sight as we twisted and turned through the Wyoming landscape. My perusal of the course profile showed me that we had a slight uphill to deal with before the turn around but not long after I caught sight of the female runner we began to make a series of steep climbs. I was using her as a yardstick as to when I would walk and when I would run because it was definitely too steep for my basically sea level lungs to handle running full out at this elevation.

On and on we climbed for the next mile and 1/2 and I was astounded how much more elevation there was.  I guess I had misread the rudimentary map on the basic website. A marathon runner passed me with about a mile to go before the turn around and soon left both me and the female runner in front of me in his dust. Pretty impressive.

We continue to climb and I wondered where the actual turnaround was because it was clear that it was going to be more than 6.55 miles away.  That would make this longer than 1/2 marathon for sure which I assuredly did not need. Not long after this realization, the lead runner headed back our way and passed me running down the hill. I felt I might have a chance to cath him if I could just get my lungs under me. Then a half-marathon runner passed me. I was now in 4th place. Within a few steps another runner passed me but this was right when the course finally flattened for half a second.  While I grabbed water from the aid station (again from an unopened jug of water - I guess they were expecting people to make quick pitstops) and while I grabbed water from a seemingly unexpected person at another aid station I made sure not to let those two runners get away from me.

To Mile 9:

At least I knew what to expect as we began our trek back to the finish line. I quickly passed the one man who passed me and was soon within sights of the second man. As I gingerly crossed a cattle grate (one of three I think we had to traverse) I could see that I was more or less keeping pace with the gentleman in front of me. I wasn't making up any ground but at least I wasn't losing any either! He was a pretty good downhill runner as well. I was more than pleased to see that I ran an 8 minute mile here even with a small uphill in the middle. I thought that maybe I was completely cooked from earlier but it was clear that as long as it was downhill or flat I could still run a pretty good speed. 

This section felt great as I continued even to run up the small uphills and began to think that perhaps I would shock myself with a negative split on this course. I looked behind me on a curve and saw no other runners. I had cleared all those who has passed me and none from behind were making up any ground. This was going ot be an epic finish!

However, when the downhill finally ended and there was a little bit of an incline as we began our climb back to the aid station that was at mile nine, I found myself really beginning to search for air.

To the Finish:

I stopped at the aid station to throw some water on my head as I was a little warm and to fill my cup. A half-marathoner passed me who had seemingly come from nowhere.  Damn it. I figured it would be a battle between us the rest of the way but little did I know that the next 4 miles would basically be me running until I felt like I was going to pass out and then walking until I was able to potentially run again. 

That's more or less how I spent the last four miles of this race as it climbed 500 feet back up to 8700 feet above sea level. A handful of other runners passed me here and there and I did my best to keep them in sight but sooner or later they all pulled away.  It was demoralizing. But I also couldn't breathe so that mattered more than my ego.

I began to wonder if I should really push hard to still break 2 hours for this half marathon or just accept the fact that this is probably going to be my slowest half marathon ever. The latter soon became my state of mind as I was just in survival mode.

Even the slight downhill with half of a mile to go gave me little respite as I could find barely enough energy to run down the hill. That's when I know it's bad. With the last quarter of a mile to go after I had already hit 13.1 miles it was clear this race was definitely going to be long. Worse than that it was the steepest part of the entire course that would take us to the finish line. I did my absolute best to jog but it was really no faster than a fast walk so I quit even trying.

I was able to muster enough strength to jog the last 100 yards or so to finish in my absolute worst time ever of 2:17:34 - nearly anentire hour slower than my half marathon PR. I finished in 9th place overall and couldn't have been happier to be done.

Three major notes of interest in this race.

1. There was a 9 year old boy completing his first marathon with his Dad and it was incredible.  Looked like he was having the time of his life and I am just flabbergasted that this difficult course was theo ne they chose to break that seal.  Great job, Ezra!
2. The guy who ran out like bat out of hell I think was the one who won the 50k in an blistering time of 3:48.  Given the elevation and hills, this time is ridiculous.
3. At the packet pickup, of this small race, the guy who was next in line behind me was ALSO from the Twin Cities and ALSO finishing his 50^th state.  The only thing more amazing than that was how completely un-gobsmacked he was by this fact while I stood there completely in shock.

So the 50 states are done. It is quite funny that the final half is the slowest ever.  Now I am going to take some time off and see if we can get everything healed and ready to potentially take on some more challenges. Or do nothing at all!