Race Gender Equality: Let The Women Run

Your uterus will fall out!

As many a runner knows, this was what many (men) back in the day used as an excuse for why women were not allowed to run distances greater than the 800 meters. We laugh at it now and like to point to that insane thought as a symbol of how far we have come as a society. Look at those silly people from days gone by! They don’t know what they are talking about! We are now so enlightened! 

Here’s the problem: no one actually believed that would happen.

OK, maybe somebody thought it was a possibility. But some people think we faked the moon landing, too. So you can see whether some people thought something was true is not a good proof that it was accepted as common knowledge. But the fact remains that reasons did exist in the minds of many which kept women from running (or voting or anything else for that matter) many decades ago. Virginia Slims aside, we have come a long way, baby. But there is still progress to be had.

This past summer took part in the US Mountain RacingChampionship.  (FYI, if you ever get a little too uppity in your running britches, take on some of the elite in the country at the sport. You will remember why your age group trophy at the Dog n Dash 5k sits prominently on your shelf.) At this race, not counting talent, there was something distinctly different between myself in the men’s race and those in the women’s, and it had nothing to do with chromosomes.  Here on this day, the men’s course consisted of three loops of a hard mountain trail; the women’s course had only two. Why the difference? According to the race website, this was done to mimic the world mountain running championships format in order to give the women the best chance to compete. I can definitely agree that something can be said for preparing for what you will race. But the time has long since passed for the distances run by women to equal those of men, up and down the board.

Now, I am not pretending to be any great champion for women’s rights. I do, however, do my best to fight what I see is injustice in any form it may take. Also, when I am not a member of the class being potentially slighted, I do my best not to speak on their behalf.  Sure I can extrapolate feelings, but it it is best to go to the source. In order to see what at least a sample size of women might think about this issue, it would be best to have them gathered in one place. Fortunately, I had the right group here in front of me on race day to test out my theories. So I reached out to a few competitors to ascertain the situation from their viewpoint.

Kimber Mattox, who took third place overall in the race, has had little experience in trail racing. In fact, these However, while she liked the “shorter distance just based on my running background, there is certainly no reason why the men's and women's race distances shouldn't be the same.” Whether this mean to shorten the men’s race or lengthen the women’s, Kimber felt there was no reason to have a difference between the genders.

championships were her first ever mountain race.

Nancy Hobbs, founder and executive director of All AmericanTrail Running Association, who took the women’s title for 50-54 said there is some precedence for change here.  “The World Long Distance Championships are equal length for men and women -- they run the same race.” Furthermore, according to Hobbs, it is also extremely forward-thinking to have the men and women run in a separate races, so that they can be viewed individually by genders.  

Unfortunately, getting the same distance for men and women is no new battle. There have been more than a few groups who have lobbied the World Mountain Running Association to make the changes for quite some time now. Obviously, they have been so far unsuccessful.

Even those who were not directly competing, but who have a stake in the world of racing, fell in line with the idea that change needed to be made. Renee Metivier Baillie, the former track star who has two marathons under her belt (including a 2:27:17 debut in Chicago) has recently moved to Bend, Oregon to open a training business. On hand to watch and cheer for some of her own athletes, Baillie felt it was long past time for the change. She cited the problem starting all the way back in high school cross country where women often only run two miles to the men’s 5k (3.1 miles.)

All told, it is wonderful that there are differences between the genders. We are each other’s yin to the other’s yang. Pretending we are the same is folly. Yet, while we are different there shouldn’t be any need to handle women with kid gloves. They have shown, when given the chance, to be made of a tough stuff (Ronda Rousey, anyone?) It matters not whether that stuff is “tougher” than men.  It matters only that women have shown they can handle much more than they are often even allowed to attempt.

Of course, with the talk of gender inequality in pay, there is a silver lining in the sport here. At least on this day, women only have to run 66% as far as men to collect the same paycheck.   

That’s progress, right?

UPDATE:

Since writing this, there has been some movement to make the distances equal.  There has also been some pushback as well. None other than Paula Radcliffe said "Equality actually means Equal Rights and Respect for every person on this earth. It does not mean we must make everything we do exactly the same as men in the name of equality. Many things we already do better. Leave them be." 

While I see her point, I disagree for the reasons listed  above.  For those who may not know, the 8K has long been the standard distance for the women’s course at the IAAF XC World Championships - the men run 12K. Last year things changes and men and women run a 10K course in the “senior” (20 and over) race, though the “junior” women will still run a 6K course. the men still run8K.

Now, I don't think the 12K is special. And women needn't have to move up to that distance to make things right.  Heck, there would be nothing wrong with dropping the men to 8K. 

But it should be the same.

Stop the Embellishment

I read a cool story about an inspiring individual. Unfortunately, I am not sharing it because of two things which irked me.

1. The person is dealing with an illness. They finished a marathon in spite of their doctor saying "which mile do you want to die on?" How outrageous, right?

Is it possible this was said? Sure. Probable? No. First, the claims which people pin to their doctors has always fascinated me. Having many close friends who are doctors, I know their bedside manner and what they can and cannot say to people. Most of what people say a doctor has told them would be ethically, if not legally, wrong.

People telling stories and "journalists" writing them have used this lazy narrative for eons to encapsulate either their own perceived doubts or the accumulated doubts from naysayers they have experienced in their life.  Rather than lay that entire history out, it is easier to say "Susie G at Trader Joe's said I couldn't run a sub 2:00 half. This will show her!" and everyone rallies behind you giving Susie the ole what for.  It moves the story forward. I get that.  But it is often full of crap. (I touch on that method in an article about a writer who tells the tale of picking up and running across Spain just cuz.") I learned long ago that people will either be impressed with your story or not. Rarely does embellishing it make fall off the fence onto your side.  So many tales are fascinating without the added oomph from a fib and when the fib is found out, it kills the truth.

The cousin of this type of story is the "I didn't even train and wasn't even aware this race existed until I happened across it in the middle of a training run! So I signed up and beat everyone! Let's pretend I haven't been in intense training mode for months prior to this and congratulate me for my ability to somehow be oblivious about a 20,000 person race in my backyard AND my superhuman talents!" Think I am lying? I literally, while writing this, happened over to twitter and saw this:

Accountability is out the window. We see it in politics and now with social media, the little white lies you used to tell to 5 people are now things we share with the world. Again, perhaps this person did just set a new 13.1 PR after doing nothing for a week. Perhaps.


2. The runner says that “Racing wasn’t fun. I was there to get to the finish line as fast as I could.” This is something which has irked me for quite some time. The notion that running hard is not fun.   I wrote about that in Fast is Fun. Let's face it.  We live in a world where many runners are not running the races they run anywhere close to their potential. Completing is celebrated more than competing.  Now, I was about to say "That's fine" when I erased it and started over. It is not fine.  Sure there are instances when just getting to the finish line is admirable. But continuing to just get to the finish line, without remotely pushing your limits, should rarely be applauded. However, my beef is with the idea that running fast is mutually exclusive from having fun.

You can have fun at almost any pace you want. Watch this video of Deena Kastor winning the bronze in Athens and tell me if she is not the most overyjoyed person ever. (If you don't have time for 2:41 minutes of awesome, just jump to 1:45 in the video.) So wracked with happiness is she that she is in tears while still running the damn race!

Personally, when I set my marathon PR, I was so overjoyed I was waving to the crowd in the homestretch. I was fortunate enough to know the announcer who was aware of my goal. As I neared the finished he shouted it out to the crowd who cheered me onward. I had finally, after three 2:51:xxs, ran a sub 2:50 marathon. I was ecstatic.

My point here is not to denigrate the subject of the article.  In fact, I think it is wonderful what she did and when you read she set a new PR in what was probably her last marathon ever (because of her terminal illness), it is even more awe-inspiring. However, following the points I have delineated above, I know that the tale could be so much better.

I know it sounds like I am nitpicking. That is not my intention. But when you are watching a show or movie and the people in it do something glaringly wrong in a field you are a specialist in, it almost ruins the movie for you. That is how it is for me and reading other writer's articles. I am already happy to have my heart strings pulled. But I also know that the music is so much sweeter when the song being played is done so with defter hands.

(And because it is still a darn good story, and I have not exactly been vague and you could find it yourself, here is the link to the article itself.  I do that because I still wish to celebrate the runner and their accomplishments. )

Santa Barbara Veteran's Day Half Marathon Recap

A Runner's Ramblings: Volume 10; 23rd Edition 
302.1 miles run; 16 miles biked; 800 meters swam in 2015 races
Race: Santa Barbara Veteran's Day Half Marathon
Place: Santa Barbara, CA
Miles from home: 943
Weather: 50s; Dry; Sunny

Even though I surged hard in the second half of the Milwaukee Running Festival 13.1 last weekend, I was still not pleased with how I did overall. I felt good for the race and even with a tough course, felt I could have easily run a 1:25. As such, I was hoping for a little redemption at the Santa Barbara Half Marathon.

This is the third year that the race has been affiliated with Veteran's Day and the third year I have run carrying the US Flag. I have only run with the flag on one other occasion and that was on the 10th anniversary of 9/11. It is a wonderful feeling to have people cheer when you run by with the flag. However, I have limited running with it to those rare occasions because doing so feels, well, a bit unsavory. I am not a veteran (although my brother and grandfathers are and were) and running with the flag seems not exactly patriotic but a rather little pandering. This isn't saying others can't do it for their own reasons.  Just for me, there has to be a special particular reason for me to carry Old Glory.

Usually run in conjunction with a marathon, the half was a standalone event due to the cancellation of its bigger brother this year. About a month prior to the race, it appears that it would not be a fiscal possibility to put on the race so the organizers gave those who were registered three solid options: refund, deferment to another year or switching to the half.  It seems while there was some grumbling, most understood how things happen and moved on. Those who don't, well, I would suggest you try putting on a race yourself. You get all kinds of understanding after you have stood in those running shoes.

There was also a small course change to the half but the last 10 miles or so were unchanged. This meant the infamous Cliff Drive hill and its little sister hills earlier in the race remained. So, if I happened to hit my goal of setting a new personal best while carrying a flag, I wouldn't have to add an asterisk because it was an easier course.

As usual, I had an excellent time at the expo, meeting people running their first or hundredth race or everywhere in between.  Each expo is always an opportunity for me to observe the human condition in way that I never find unfascinating. Predictable in many ways, but still fascinating. Was happy to talk to people about my accomplishments, listen to their goals and go into detail about products I use such as ASEA. Runners are never short of curiosity when it comes to find ways to shave just a few more seconds off of their time.

Race Morning:

I got to the race with just a few minutes to spare. I was fortunate enough to be greeted by a woman who purchased my book the previous day. She was pleasantly surprised I remembered her name. We chatted for a bit while I stood in the portapotty line. CJ was her name and she was kind enough to hold my flag for me while I powdered my nose. Then there as just enough time to head to the start, hear an amazing rendition of the Star-Spangled Banner (I have to find out if that was an actual live performance) and virtually right on time, away we went.

First Four Miles:

Running with the flag is obviously not an easy task. If you are conscientious when you run, which is seemingly in short supply, it is even more difficult.  In the first few miles, I was doing all I could to stay out of people's way. Fortunately, one of the changes from the previous course was a first ever running along highway 217. This wide expanse of road was completely shut down for us scantily clad sweatmongers to traverse. It also made it easier to run on the side and away from others.

The entirety of this first section was new. It also gave the race a beach to beach feel it had been missing previously. I have now run the race six times and haven't run the same course twice. This is no knock on the race. I have run the Marine Corps Marathon five separate times and am pretty sure I haven't run the same course there either. But these changes might be the best ones yet and I hope they keep them for the future.


My goal for the race was simple: run the fastest time I have ever run on this course carrying the flag. This new section here in the first few miles, while beautiful, may have been mildly more difficult than the previous
course. I felt up to the challenge.

Some quick twists and turns took us from the UCSB campus out onto the highway and then onto a nice tree-lined parking lot. By the second mile, I was curious if my pace was off as the 1:30 pace group rocketed past me. (He would go on to run a 1:28:30 which if not, if you are scoring alone, a very good pacing job.) But a quick check on my watch had me going right where I needed to be.

I wasn't paying as much attention to my surroundings as I was during last week's Milwaukee Running Festival as I was doing what I could to run hard and not get in anyone's way with my flapping flag.

We turned out of this parking lot and onto the Obern Trail. Four miles in, I was still on pace to go under 1:30 for the race. But this is not the race course upon which to guess your finish time on how well you run the first third.

To Mile Nine:

I noticed immediately as we got onto the trail this this was the coolest temperature of all six of the races I had run here in Santa Barbara. Note I don't say it was cool or even chilly, but I was more than happy to not be sweating buckets. I don't recall being as much of a heavy sweater growing up or even playing sports in college. I am unsure if running has increased my sweat output or if I just became aware of it more given I hardy ever moved for over an hour continuously until I started running. But here as I pushed along I could tell it was going to be a good weather day.

This past week I posted my recaps of my previous races and I noticed a theme. I constantly spoke about how bicycle paths, like the one we were on here on the Obern Trail, always seem to give me a hard time. I have yet to really figure out what it is about them that slows me so.  In fact, even in my marathon PR at the Ogden Marathon, the last three miles had me slowing greatly on a bicycle path. Part of it was by design but part was forced.

On this day, however, I ran one of my better efforts on this path as I passed a few people who were in front of me and used the energy of a few who tried to pass me to help propel me forward.  One young fella who had been out way in front came to a stop on the side of the path. I had guessed he might have gone out way too fast but was hoping he was another prodigy as I seem to be running into them left and right this year. I offered some encouragement as I passed and he seemed to be at least in good spirits. I assumed he would be up and running any second again and thought he may just pass me.

One runner in this race, who was definitely younger but hardly a child, I had met at the expo the previous day. Peter from Denmark, now living in Santa Barbara, had asked me about the course. I told him I had heard a few friends set a PR on it but it might be tough.  He told me about his race results rather generally and I predicted a 1:19 for him. He ended up running a 1:18:05 for 10th place overall.  Kudos Peter!

After a bit on this trail we were finally spit out onto the back streets of a neighborhood that I feel like I know so well after so many repeated running of this race. I was happy to be out from the skinny bicycle trail and could roam a bit more freely. This neighborhood area starts a slight uphill portion which becomes full blown in less than a mile. While many know of the Cliff Drive hill coming up later, this portion here can make or break your race.

A very interesting thing has happened to me in the past few years. I used to be an excellent downhill runner. I can't say I have slowed that greatly but I have noticed my uphill running, at least when it is done on roads, has improved a great deal. As we ran along Modoc Road, I found myself, even without the full use of my arm holding the flag, powering up and passing more than a few people. Interestingly enough, right here, there were no less than five women all running close to each other in time. At least two of them seemed to be partially working in tandem but for the most part these women appeared to just be women running roughly the same pace. As they had passed me on the path earlier I was not expecting to see much of them again.  But up and down the hills of Modoc Road, leading to the downhill before Cliff Drive, I was able to pass most of them and get ready for the last four miles home.

While it appeared I had lost all chance to break 1:30, I was still well under the pace I needed to best my two previous times of running this race holding a flag (1:32: 57 and 1:32:35.)


Heading Home:

Making a turn off of Modoc Road on a short but steep hill, I knew we had approximately 1.5 miles of gradual downhill to shakeout our my legs. I expected to do better on this downhill than I did.  As I mentioned above, I used to be able to shred downhills. Perhaps I was saving myself a but as I knew that Cliff Drive awaited.  I know I didn't feel strained at all which was reassuring. while this section is normally

shaded by the sun for most of the run downhill, it still felt even a bit cooler than usual.  The wind was there as I could tell from the flapping of my flag but it was not as bad as in previous years. For the past few miles, I had been playing cat and mouse with a couple of women and one had pulled far ahead. Another was on my heels and we ran down this hill together. She also pulled away near the tenth mile, about .3 of a mile before we began our climb up Cliff Drive. I looked at my watch and saw it was going to be one of those races where my time was going to probably be close to the next minute. I have more races with 50-some seconds in them than any other time.  If I can, I do everything possible to not have a time that ekes over into the next minute. I know I am not the only one who does that.

I took a deep breathe and began to climb Cliff Drive. For some reason, even though this hill has almost made me walk sometimes, and has made me walk others, I felt strong today.  I powered up it with my eyes held high. I am not ready to say "before I knew it I was at the top" as it is assuredly a hill that makes its presence known.  But 3/4 of mile later I was on the top and breathed a sigh of relief. I knew a couple of turns through some neighborhoods and a small uphill was all that stood between me and the long beautiful downhill home.

Again I played cat and mouse with a some runners and again I was able to pull past them on the uphill. We made the turn and the Pacific Ocean exploded on our right. Soon thereafter, the mile of flags began with members of our military there to hand out small postcard-sized flags to everyone to carry to the finish. I politely declined as my hands were already full..

Here I also noticed that because I had run Cliff Drive far faster than I expected. I had an outside chance to run under 1:30. I would have never thought that possible a few miles earlier but wanted to give it a go. It would requite a 6:00 mile in this last mile, unfortunately. I lowered my head, and began to run.

As the final few yards of the race came into focus I knew I had run hard and had made up some time but that sub-90 minute half was not in the cards today.  I ran a 6:19 last mile and finished in 1:30:22. This was just my 51st fastest half-marathon ever but one I was exceedingly proud to run. (Also, for the third straight year, I had someone pass me very close to the finish line, with not a care in the world that they were passing a flagbearer. No major complaints as a race is a race but at least this one hadn't tried to trip me three times.)

Having now done this event six times in one form or another I think it might be time for me to move onto a different race.  I love coming here in November but with only so many weekends in a year and only so many miles in my legs, I want to see more of this country and world. I am presently accepting invitations from all races.

Until that time, however, my heartfelt thanks goes out to all veterans. By doing what you do, I am able to choose to go run around on weekend's knowing I live under the blanket of security you help provide.

Milwaukee Running Festival (13.1) Recap

A Runner's Ramblings: Volume 10; 22nd Edition 
289 miles run; 16 miles biked; 800 meters swam in 2015 races
Race: Milwaukee Running Festival
Place: Milwaukee, WI
Miles from home: 2063
Weather: 50s; Dry; Sunny

Taking on inaugural events is usually a mixed bag of happenings.  It is exciting to be on-hand for the "first" of a running event.  However, being the guinea pig for something in which you are also testing yourself physically can leave you hung out to dry. I have experienced both the pros and cons of being involved with inaugural races in the past and as such am more selective with those I involve me, and my legs, with these days.

Yet, with this race I knew I would probably be in good hands.  The race director, Chris Ponteri is not only himself a sub-3 hour marathoner but also the RD of the wildly popular Icebreaker Indoor Marathon held in Milwaukee in January.  I have heard rave reviews about this race from trusted friends and assumed that expertise from Chris in that race would carry over to this one as well.

What also intrigued me about this event weekend was the addition of a mile race to be held prior to the expo on Saturday.  Built more as a fun run for kids than a speed race for those looking for a fast mile, it was still nonetheless a mile race. The miles, as an event, used to be the stuff of spectator sport legen.  But it has fallen on hard times. That is why such companies like Bring Back The Mile were needed. which the country is sorely lacking in. A few months ago I wrote about witnessing my first ever sub-4 minute mile and how incredible of an experience that is.  Obviously, on a good day, while I wouldn’t come within 45 seconds of that time, I still love the idea of racing a mile.

I knew going into it would not be a fast race, regard. I told Chris that, as a race director myself, I completely understood the reasoning for the course design as it was. Shaped like a backward C, it ran around the grounds of the Harley Davidson Museum, where the expo took place.  As such, no streets needed to be blocked, no permits were needed, and all the other headaches which come from street racing were set aside. From  the perspective of an event manager, it was a dream.  From a runner’s perspective, making eight 90-degree turns was going to be a nightmare.When the morning of the mile race broke with cold rain, we knew a slick pavement was going to be likely. Like I said, it wasn't going to be fast.

I lined up with the “elites” of the day which was both flattering and laughable for me.  But I fit the criteria for the bill, so I accepted it. I had spent the hour before the race setting up my expo booth at the expo which, I am pretty sure, is not the proper warm-up for a mile. Nevertheless, I was excited to race. I felt on this course a 5:20 would be possible. But with the rain I figured ten seconds should be added to that to account for slowing down. When the gun went off I was briefly in the lead before I realized I am slow and it is almost impossible to convince a marathoner’s legs to run that hard for that long. The governor on my energy level simply is hard to override.  It cannot seem to understand that this will all be over in 5 minutes, not three hours. That said, about halfway through I was able to put a little more of a spurt of energy than expected and came in with a time of 5:36.  Definitely not what I was hoping for but I hadn’t fall and broken any bones on the pavement so let’s call it a win. In addition, there were some stunningly fast time with the winner running a 4:30, so who am I to say what is fast and what is not?!

After a day at the expo, I had a good night’s sleep and felt excellent for the race.  The weather was marvelous with a starting temperature right around 49 degrees.  People kept saying it was perfect to which I have to disagree. It was rather windy in spots and with bright sunshine, that doesn’t make for "perfection."  Do not get me wrong: it was pretty darn good. I just reserve my superlatives for when they should be used. Which is why virtually nothing is “epic.” (Take note, millennials. Your salad is never “epic.”)

My goal for the day was to run right around 6:30 per mile which I felt well within my wheelhouse. I knew there were two long hills and a series of shorter ones in the middle of the race but I felt prepared. I was ready to get underway.

The gun went off and while I felt like I was really running hard, I could tell by using clues of the runner around me, I wasn’t going as fast as I would like. The first mile went by in 6:46 and I was rather perturbed. I thought perhaps I would settle into a groove and recoup some of the time in the next mile.

Apparently, many of the races in Milwaukee make use of this shoreline road, alongside Veteran's Park and a marina near McKinley Park. But for those who don’t race here often, or are from out of town, this was a beautiful setting.  The sun was casting diamonds off the water and it was simply gorgeous.  Then next thing I know there was the sand from Bradford Beach Park and I felt like we were running in Florida. It was

visually stunning.

I ran another 6:46 at mile 2 and realized, with the race barely underway, that race-wise it was probably over for me. As the course continued down this flat stretch, I knew we would just finish the third mile before climbing up the biggest hill of the day. A group I was running with pulled away from me effortlessly. I could only hope they were speeding up but knew that was not the case.  When we passed the third mile and I clocked a 6:56, I felt like the course was breaking up with me but in reverse fashion: “It’s not me, it’s you” it said. I couldn't have asked for a better start to a race and my legs simply were to having none of it.

I mentioned in my Twin Cities Marathon recap that one of the more difficult things about long-distance racing is knowing early on that your goals for the day are shot. You still have an hour (or two or three) more of running and all it will do is end up with you being disappointed anyway.  It shows one’s true character if they can accept that disappointment and just move on the best they can. For me, I felt it would be best to jettison time goals and turn this into a day where I was a running spectator. Obviously, I was not going to be just jogging alone but if it is not your day, well, it is not your day.  That is what makes racing so special. It is not what you "can" do, it is what you actually do. Furthermore, while I know many read my recaps to hear about my experiences, many more read them to learn about the race itself. So, I became a journalist with a 140 pulse rate at this point.

Cresting the big hill at 3.5 miles I was rather surprised that my mile split was just ten seconds slower than the previous mile. I figured it would be far worse. Perhaps accepting the inevitable slowdown had somehow helped me. We turned from Lake Drive to Wahl Ave and were visited by the twin visions of beautiful Lake Michigan on our left and some stunning homes with price tags I am guessing in the millions on our right. Unsurprisingly, there were few spectators here. I have run numerous races through ritzy sections of towns and I can count on one hand the number times the 1% who crawl out of bed in the mornings to cheer on the sweaty masses.  No hate here.  If I had 3000 count sheets it might be hard for me to get out of bed to cheer on runners as well.  No, that's not true. In fact, any time a race goes on near me and I am not racing, you will see me out there trying my best to give back.

As I finally felt human, I thought perhaps the first few miles were an aberration. With a mild downhill section for the next two miles, I might be just able to turn up my speed and salvage this race. However, my next two miles stayed in the same time area of the previous miles in spite of my intense efforts to pick up the pace.  Here is where I knew the full re-evaluation from earlier about this not being my day was spot-on.  As I ran, I laughed as I saw a sign for the Oak Leaf Trail.  This trail was part of a shakeout run I did on Friday morning when I first arrived in town.  However, I noticed the Oak Leaf Trail seems to sprawl all over Milwaukee.  In fact, it doesn’t necessarily seem to be connected to itself yet maintains the same name.  This could definitely lead to some confusion if people were trying to meet on it somewhere. Getting jolted back to the run from the previous day, as I explored some of Milwaukee helped break up a slight pity party for me on my less-than-stellar day.

What was stellar, however, were the beautiful trees surrounding us as we left Back Bay Park and into some of the neighborhoods of town. Here the crowds, hardly teeming but still quite vocal, began to have a presence. One woman loudly clanged on a dinner triangle and shouted “Thank you for coming to Milwaukee and giving us a reason to drink beer at 8 a.m!” I fully felt that she would have gladly toasted the sunrise as a reason to drink but appreciated the enthusiasm nonetheless.

After a couple of rolling hills we crossed underneath the Marsupial Bridge to traverse the Milwaukee River.  If you have read my second book, 138,336 Feet to Pure Bliss you will know about my love of bridges. While there was an ankle-breaking 180-degree turn section here, I loved the footpath we crossed to get over the river.  Some road construction on the other side made things a little tight for a bit here as we forced up onto the sidewalk but it was short-lived. After a couple of quick turns we ran briefly on the Riverwalk, another section I had run on my shakeout run previously. Then we ran through downtown past my hotel and where I had eaten dinner the previous night.  I thought perhaps I should have looked at the map a little closer to see how many places I was going to see twice!

The last big hill around mile nine loomed ahead.  Nothing too high but rather a long sloping tilt brought us out of the heart of downtown and passed numerous architectural treats. Stone buildings which now house banks and buildings of finance but whose outward appearance was that of fortresses were on both sides. Churches and the spires rose above the skyline. The wind picked up here a bit in this little tunnel and I found myself falling in behind a few runners to let them block the wind. I was fully expecting to have continued to slow through this section as my “A” goal was gone for the day. The odd thing was not that I was tired but that my legs simply refused to respond to my yelling at them to go forward. I wasn't out of breath either per se. Simply nothing would fire.  In hindsight, the fact I had run the second highest mile month of the year in October and raced the mile the day previously should have been enough reason to expect a slight slowdown.  However, I wasn’t ready to accept that. I just assumed I could will myself faster. I assumed wrong.

As we closed in on Marquette University, the stone buildings and their ornateness continued. I have only been to Milwaukee a handful of times and I have enjoyed being there every time.  It is one of those cities where you just feel like people are doing things right. Sure they like beer and are mostly Packers fans but I can forgive that. It was also rather coincidental that Al from Happy Days, set in Milwaukee, had just died 48 hours earlier. This has nothing to do with the race or the city per se but it is what was on my mind as I simply

wanted to be at the top of the hill.

I passed a rather exuberant chap wearing a November Project shirt right before the half marathoners split from the marathoners. Someone he knew asked him what he was running that day and he told them he was going the full way. I mentioned I was also going the full way but my “full” was going to take significantly less time than his. There were more than a few people with these November Project shirts on which have become rather cultish in certain cities in the ways those who are involved support the others. This guy seemed to have no fewer than three different people running certain portions of the race with him for a few miles. He had been around me for most of the race so far and I marveled at those who seemed to be supporting him and he supporting them. If that sort of support is what having a team project like this is about then I am all for it. Good for them.

I left Marquette University and headed toward the last 3 miles. I somehow, also, was speeding up.

Mile 10 was hardly a pretty mile but if you run a race in a city not everything is going to be roses. People don't want to say ill of the NYC Marathon which just happened to be run on the same day but a vast majority of that course is hardly "pretty" or easy.  It is the character and organization of the race which allows it to thrive, not the foliage or buildings (although they don't hurt.)  But as non-eye-pleasing as this mile was, I saw it as exactly what it needed to be: a connector mile to have the half marathon join the marathon for the last two miles. When you have done more than just run races, but spent time directing them, designing them and all the nitty-gritty as I have for the past decade, you completely understand why some things are the way they are. I didn't see it as anything other than an opportunity to take on long, flat, straight stretch in which I could really shake out my legs. For the previous few miles, a few runners and I had been duking it out as I seemed to find a second wind. I kept thinking I was surging ahead only to have them get into my peripheral vision again. Here on the bridge however, with no need t think about hills or turns or anything else, I finally began to separate myself from some of them. The "ugliness" here was a thing of beauty to me.

As we left this overland bridge and went onto the surface streets, I have to share a funny story about the volunteers at the aid stations. They were extremely helpful and very vocal so there is no complaints whatsoever from me. Rather, the fact they were telling runners what was in each glass is where the story is.  Some of the tables had water and some had the electrolyte supplement Nuun (pronounced “noon”.)  I am a big supporter of Nuun and have been drinking it for ages. While my partnership with them is currently on hiatus, I still love the drink.  But I digress. As is often the case, the vast majority of tables are on one side of the road. Occasionally in races like this a table will be on the other side, less stocked than others but to be used in case there is a bit of a loggerjam or maybe for left-handed runners, I am never quite sure. While the other tables are set up in a fashion so you know they contain one drink or another the singular table often has both.  One volunteer, wanting to make sure I knew what she had to drink, held up both hands and said:

 “I have water in this hand and None in this!”

It took me a second to realize that she mispronounced “Nuun” before I let out a big laugh.  At first I thought she was just making sure that her one hand had nothing in it.  I told her the correct pronunciation as I passed, grabbed the drink and thanked her for the laugh.

With two miles to go, I began to notice I was still speeding up.  In fact, I was most assuredly going to negative split the race. There was no way I thought this was possible just an hour ago. I was still going to be minutes off my project finish time but at least I hadn’t fallen apart.  I began zeroing in on a few runners behind me and started to reel them in. We turned onto Erie St and I smiled as I always do seeing the name of the biggest town close to my hometown. In quick succession I passed two runners and had two runners pass me. It was a weird juxtaposition of feeling good about having caught two people but feeling bad two others had passed me. I looked at my watch and realized if I picked it up a touch I could salvage a decent day out of what had started so poorly.  I narrowed my eyes, pinned back my ears and gave it all I had.


I crossed the finish in 1:30:52, good enough for 54th place overall in my 84th lifetime marathon. It was only my 55th fastest half-marathon ever but I was pleased with how I bounced back from a horrendous start. I quickly went back to my hotel, showered and came back down to help with the race. I hopped on the announcers mic for a bit and welcomed in runners for 30 minutes or so while talking shop with the organizers. Then I passed out water and finisher's medals to runners for a few hours. Finally a little tired, I called it a day. Both courses seemed to be a little tougher than what people were suspecting from the race but over and over I heard about how well-organized the event was. From my own experience I can only echo those sentiments.  I fully expect to return again next year and can't wait to be back in Milwaukee.

Back to the Future Run

Runners have always been a little...different. Sometimes we can be a little insufferable with our talk of all the races we run or vertical feet we have climbed. You may tire of our 26.2 stickers or our constant need to hydrate and lube our unmentionables.  But for the most part we do fun things.

With the advent of tracking technology, those fun things often come in the ways of what we draw with the routes we run. At least three different people have proposed to their loved ones with the routes they ran. (I guess that says something about both ingenuity and the desire to make sure other people know how creative you think you are that these make their way to the public.)
 
That said, I will admit I have also joined in the fun with a couple of different routes myself including one that professes my love for running, how much I heart Oregon, and if you don't like it, talk to the hand.

Absolutely, running can be a little tiring at sometimes and there is nothing wrong with spicing it up with some funnery out on the course.

Which is why I am proposing that on Oct 21st, 2015, we all pay homage to Back to The Future and the fact that it will be the day that Marty McFly flew to in Back to the Future and its sequel. Once you get over the shock that this date which was 30 years in the future is Wednesday, think about how much fun you can have. Forget 1.21 gigawatts. Run 12.1 miles (or kilometers, if you'd like.)  The run doesn't have to draw the DeLorean (but seriously, if you do that, I will probably find a way to give you a prize of some sort.) or be all that inventive. It will just be a fun way to get in some miles, connect yourself further to your running brethern and, burn off about 1500 calories.

So, where Doc Brown was going they don't need roads, we are runners and we need something under out feet.  Go get yours and share it with me!

2000 Miles and Counting

I have never been what I would consider a high-mileage runner. I feel that many people can not only get by, but can excel doing races of most distances without the totals that get bandied around like badges of honor. Runners read books like Once a Runner and idolize elites who throw down a 140 mile week in their peak training times. We join groups that says we will run the number of miles of the year regardless of whether running that many miles is good for what our racing schedule is like. We talk about "vert" in our running and how much elevation change this and up and down that. Workouts used to be hidden from all but those who just ran with you. Now you can share a picture with a snappy font of your miles and elevation change with just the right filter to make you look so badass.

The great marathoner Steve Jones was quoted in Competitor magazine as having an opinion about what makes an actual marathoner. It seems he feels just completing one does not make you a marathoner. Obviously, Jones was not saying if you finish a marathon you aren't one. It is quite clear he was referring to something more undefinable and existential. Of course, people with too thin of skin lost their minds. (His full quote was: "I have to be careful what I say because I get called out on it sometimes, but I don’t believe that starting and finishing a marathon makes you a marathoner. I don’t believe that. If you’re racing it to go as fast as you can, that’s completely different than being part of an event and just wanting to get from point A to point B.")

I can't say I agree 100% with Jones although I understand what he means. Racing is indeed for everyone these days and that is a good thing. But to many, the idea is that when you put on a bib number and toe the line, there is an understood agreement you will give your best that day. This was, of course, much easier to believe when you only ran four or five races a year and were able to do that sort of all-or-nothing approach. Times have changed, however. I would say mostly for the better. As with anything, there are a million different definitions of racing, running, or, for this instance "high mileage."

My next run will put me over 2,000 miles for this year. That will be the 9th straight year I have run over 2,000 miles. (For the curious, 1771, 2112, 2886, 2456, 2429, 2006, 2374, 2506, 2240 are my totals since 2006.  N.B. that the 1771 was the year I raced 52 Marathons. That was my lowest total by far in the year I did the thing that is probably the reason why you even remotely care what I have to say.) For some people 2,000 miles is nothing. For many more, it is a high amount. But without context it means not much at all.

I haven't had a particularly good racing year. I eked out a sub-3 hour marathon earlier in the year to end a small drought in doing so. But other than that, nothing much has been exciting to me on the race clock. Part of my racing is sacrificed because I make a living in the running world which ironically means my racing suffers. Another caveat is how I have been trying and taking part in all differing sorts of races which makes it difficult to even be as good as I can be in one particular discipline (however good that may be.) But in spite of that, I will run a lot of miles this year. In fact, if the year holds up, this will be the 2nd most miles I have ever run. Yet the results hardly correlate to the mileage. In 2009, for example, I "just" ran 2456 miles but ran 29 races, (21 marathons and set my current PRs in the 5k, marathon, and 50k.) Then again, in 2008, the year I ran the most miles, I had my most sub-3s in one year at 6. So who knows?

The point I am trying to make is that no one should care who wins the workout. If you are concerned about how fast you race (and to be honest with yourself, if you race you should care) then there should be no need to run any further than necessary to achieve those results. Is it nice to hit rounded zero milestones? Sure. But if it is really getting you down because you aren't reaching them, just convert to kilometers. 2000 kms is just 1242 miles. You get all the zeroes without all the mileage. Just remember, for basically 99.99% of the population (definitely including myself), no one cares about how far you've run unless they are just trying to tell you that they have run further. If they get off on that then let them do so. If you enjoy racing faster, then let the results do the talking.

For me, I can say that I am often impressed with results. However, I am far more inspired by effort. So,
regardless of what your finishing time is at the end of a race, if you gave all you had on that day, consider me a fan.

Run Free - The Caballo Blanco Biopic

I had the opportunity to watch Run Free, the movie about one of the central figures in the best-selling book, Born to Run, the other day. As a fan of the sport, I will support just about anything that comes along in this fashion, especially if it is done in rather grass roots kind of way (Run Free was made possible by Kickstarter.) Having written three books and had a movie made about some of my own endeavors, none of which were exactly funded by Random House or Steven Spielberg, I like to give back where I can to the sport that has given me so much.

What I find shocking is how little others in the sport of running will do the same. One of the main reasons I wrote my second book, 138,336 Feet to Pure Bliss was because I had encountered so many people who enjoyed running in races but hardly knew where the sport of running had come from, how we were able to do what we do in it, and what others had done to make it so we can instagram pictures of us jogging pedestrianly through towns shut down specifically for us to do so. As such, even though I knew the story of Micah True, I wanted to check it out to learn more about him as well as support the cause.


The review I give on this movie is going to be one that I try to give without passing any specific judgment on the people involved in it at all.  Rather, I will try to say what someone watching the movie might feel or take from seeing it, while knowing it will be hard to extricate what I already know and have experienced.

If you don't know the tale of Micah True (born Michael Randall Hickman) it is an interesting one. That is, of course, if what we know is true. You see, Micah spent a great deal of time distancing himself from his past. Or more accurately, refusing to talk about it. However, as the author of Born to Run, Chris McDougall made clear, if you got Caballo running, he would open up. "Loose hips, loose lips" as the saying that I just invented goes. (Trademark pending.)

Throughout the movie, we get glimpses into Micah's life and how he found himself living amongst the "hidden tribe" of runners in Mexico, as McDougall likes to call the Tarahumara Indians. Although, whether this is a construct McDougall created or simply did nothing to stop when others gave his book the credit, the Tarahumara were far from hidden or even unknown. Recently I found an old running book in a Goodwill store. I love these old finds and enjoy reading training tips and the like from 30 plus years ago. In this book written in 1979 (if I recall correctly) there was an extended chapter on these running gods from the Copper Canyon. Writing a book 30 years later "discovering" them is like Columbus discovering land people lived on for thousands of years. I guess if you make more people know about it who have power, money and influence, you get to plant the flag of Ferdinand and Isabella in it and claim it for your own. But I digress.

The movie then, through a series of interviews and narratives, introduces us to many of the cast of characters in the Born to Run book. The Tarahumara (or Rarámuri- it seems no one has one name in this world) are briefly introduced and peripherally discussed. But this is a movie about Caballo Blanco, even if he intermittently seems to want and not want any attention. The same dual dichotomy cannot be said for "Barefoot Ted" McDonald who 100% comes across as absolutely loving the idea that he is now known as Barefoot Ted. Perfectly pleasant I am sure but a little of his flowery prose and new-agey talk goes a long way. He reminds me of Michael Scott when he said "Sometimes I'll start a sentence, and I don't even know where it's going. I just hope I find it along the way."

Just as in the book, the way of life of the Tarahumara is romanticized as simplistic or even ideal. However, as even Jenn Shelton, the lone female participant of the race upon which Born to Run was based, has pointed out, the Tarahumara's lifestyle is one of rather abject poverty. Most of what they do is not necessarily out of a desire or want for a simpler lifestyle. Moreover, it is what they have to do to get by. (We never hear from Jenn in the movie personally, which makes one wonder why not.) Sure this lifestyle sounds wonderful when you know you can hop on a bus and be back in your home, wearing your custom-made water-filtration pack with your own name on the side of shoes made for you, in a day or two but would you want to actually live like that? For your entire life? Unlikely.

As the movie progresses we learn about how this ultramarathon race was finally was put together and you can tell that regardless of anything else, Caballo enjoys giving back to the Tarahumara. He might be a mixture of different things, as we all are, but he truly appears to care about these running Mexicans. His work to clothe them, get attention for their well-being, and provide food to the area is not one done with any really expectation of international fame. Which makes the next part rather sad.

(*Spoiler Alert*)

Jumping ahead a few years, we learn of Caballo going for a run from which he would never come back.  When he does not come back from a run and is gone for a long period of time uncharacteristically, ultrarunners from around the country flock to the area to aid the search and rescue. When his body is found a few days later, seemingly at restful peace near a stream, it is obviously a sad day for many. Having rather recently met a woman who cared about him as much as he cared about the Tarahumara or running itself, it appeared Micah True had perhaps found a place where at least his heart could rest even if his legs would not.

The race Caballo created has now been taken over by a new organization and while this was not in the film, this year had to deal with being cancelled because of safety concerns about the local drug cartels. These cartels are touched upon briefly in the movie and it really is a shame. Like when the Black Lives Matters folks of St. Paul threatened to shut down the Twin Cities Marathon, it is always myopically horrific when something which is so good and so inclusive has to potentially bow to that which is so corrupt or inane. Even if it has to be moved, the fact that it ran for 12 years and created some recognition for the area means it has done much more for the Tarahumara then anyone else ever has.

Nevertheless, Run Free was a movie that was enjoyable to watch from a runner's perspective, even if you didn't happen to know half the people in the movie and their views and back stories.  From a non-runner's perspective, it shows a tale of re-invention. It hits home in that spot which resides in all of us where while we know we can rarely change the world, we feel we can can change a neighborhood, if we put forth the effort. Since the world is comprised of nothing but a lot of neighborhoods, this gives us hope for mass change through lots of effort from lots of people.

We appreciate Caballo's own bit of hope.

Twin Cities Marathon Recap

A Runner's Ramblings: Volume 10; 21st Edition 
275.9 miles run; 16 miles biked; 800 meters swam in 2015 races
Race: Twin Cities Marathon
Place: Minneapolis and St. Paul, MN
Miles from home: 1726
Weather: 50s; Dry; Sunny

When I think about recommending a race to others I ask them about two different things: are they looking to run a good time or are they looking to have a good time. Very few races offer both except for the fact that running a good time can often trump whether you had a good time along the course. Having said that, the Twin Cities marathon is not an easy course. It is not exceedingly difficult either, especially in today's world of making races difficult for difficult's sake alone. However, if you wish to be involved in a race which is very well-run, extremely well-supported and showcases two beautiful urban areas in the United States, you would be hard pressed to find anything much better than this race. Will you run a good time? Perhaps, but you will work for it. Will you have a good time? The odds are highly likely you will.

After a past month of two marathons in Europe, a half marathon in Utah, a triathlon in Oregon and a business trip to Vegas, I would hardly say I was in good shape to run this race. Well-meaning friends who just "know" you are going to do good in a race are just that: well-meaning. You thank them and know that you are a wiped-out and tired mess. But going into this marathon the promises of 40-50 degree weather with cloudy skies meant that at this marathon I would be running in the best weather for a race in...let me see...Oh yeah...forever.

As I was a presenter at the race I had the wonderful luxury of having some of the amenities of being an elite athlete available to me. Getting shuttled to a hotel near the start where I could stay warm and relaxed for a bit (even if it was simply lying on a carpeted floor) and mingle with some elite friends and make new ones was pretty sweet. It also meant I had to be up at 5:30 a.m. for an 8 a.m. start, so there are trade-offs for this night owl. People politely inquired throughout the week how I thought I would do. I had no idea. I was hoping for somewhere around 3 hours and if I had it in me to dip down under. If not, a 3:05 would have made me happy. But I was really without a clue when it came with how I would do. I knew I wouldn't be shooting for a PR and other than a few people in the room who were 20 years older than me, I was the slowest one there.

I walked to the start with Michael Wardian, one of the best runners out there at being able to take on both short distance, marathons, and ultras, all week after week.  His stamina and versatility is quite amazing. Also met a new friend named Mike who, I didn't know at the time, was dealing with some pretty bad foot issues. We chatted away and just tried to enjoy the fact that the race was slightly chilly and the atmosphere was fantastic. Then we parted ways as they did last minute strides and prepped for running blazingly fast. I went to the bathroom and stood around looking at people. Oh, the dichotomy.


First Six Miles: 6:45, 7:10, 6:57, 6:58, 7:02, 7:00




As I was close to the front of the race and I knew many would either be running faster than me or going out too fast, I was unsurprised when dozens upon dozens streamed past me in the first few miles. I did my best to hold myself in check and simply try to go out at a sub-3 pace. The first mile was a little hot so I gladly backed off the throttle. A surprising hill at mile 2 helped me do just that and suddenly I was right where I needed to be.


The sheer number of people around me was startling. I did the math and found out that you would have to combine the last 16 marathons I have run to get more finishers (9727) than would finish the Twin Cities Marathon alone (8579). I have, for the most part, been running essentially training runs with no one around me for three years and getting a finisher's medal when I did it. This is a hard way to race. Having others around me was a blessing. Having so many others around me was a bit of a nuisance.


As we hit the third mile and began to spin around the Lake of the Isles, two things would soon become evident. The first was that the first half of this marathon consisted of many small bends in the road that made running the tangents essential to not running too far. Having so many others around you makes this rather difficult. You have to spend a great deal of mental energy trying to pick a path through the runners. At least you have to if you don't want to be a jerk, that is.  No matter how fast I am running, my speed always will take a seat to race etiquette.

The second evident thing was that no matter what I tried, no matter how much I surged or laid off the throttle, I was going to run right around 7 minute miles. Without fail, every mile passed by and I expected something either much faster or mush slower based on the effort it took to run that mile. However time and time again, I basically had 7 minutes per mile popping up on my watch. As I knew 7 minutes per mile equaled a 3:03:33 (one of those random things I remember about marathon pace)I figured that I might as well stick with this as long as I could. If a sub-3 wasn't in the cards, there is no sense trying for it and bonking. I didn't want to run a 3:33:33.

To the Halfway: 6:59, 6:59, 7:02, 7:05, 6:57, 7:12, 7:13


Passing by Lake Calhoun, we were onto a slimmer road where the jostling became a little more dicey.  However, in spite of the extra runners to be wary of, I was enjoying myself. In fact, each mile that went by at almost exactly 7 minutes began to tickle me. I began to think of a race I did where no matter what I tried, I ran almost the exact same pace mile after mile.Trying to recall exactly what race it was helped passed the time (I only had 82 half marathons and 155 marathons to go over in my mind as to what race it was. I ended up remember it was the Kiawah Island Half Marathon where I ran 6 out of 7 miles at exactly 6:35.) The thing about the marathon is that even at a good clip, you have three hours to be alone with your mind. If you run it correctly, you are more or less spending two hours of solid controlled running until you get to the nitty gritty where you push.  So often you are just biding time until those two hours are gone. With me, I like to think about stats.


After passing Lake Harriet there was a funny yet cruel spectator sign which said we were 28% done. I think it was meant to be encouraging but it was just a little the opposite. Around here I began to hear the chatter of a group behind me. As I would come to learn, this was the 3:05 pace group. Why they were so close to me here confused me. Perhaps the desired pace was to run even effort and they would slow on the hills I had heard about near the end of the race. Banking time, so to speak. Although, that is a strategy which almost never works. For some reason I began to worry for these runners, relying on a pacer who may be taking them out too fast. I also didn't like a herd of runners right on my heels. So, I picked up the pace, turned on the afterburners...and ran the exact same mile again. Huh.


We spent the next few miles on the Minnehaha Parkway next to the Minehhaha Creek. Even here, in a relatively out of the way place, the amazing spectators were lining the course. As sick of cowbells as I am (especially when they are wrung AT you) the energy and fervor of the people here lived up to its reputation. I can unequivocally state that throughout the course, my spirits and energy level were extrinsically raised by those cheering the runners onward. As I mentioned above, it has been a long time since I have felt this lift. It did not go unappreciated.

After the 10th mile, the 3:05 pace group passed me. I was astonished. I decided to hang with them for the remainder of the mile to experiment. I wanted to see if I could keep up their pace and I wanted to see exactly what pace they were running. When we hit mile 11 and I ran a 6:57 (a 3:02 marathon pace) I just shook my head. Whatever the pl an of this pace group was, I didn't understand it and wasn't going to hang around. I slowed down a bit and expected to fall back into my previous tempo.

But suddenly it was as if the group, which just began to disappear in front of me, had stuck a needle in my body and sucked out all the energy I had.  My next two miles to the half, both way slower than I expected, left me dumbfounded. The other thing about the marathon, which is oh so cruel, is when you realize it is not going to be a good day, you know you still have two more hours of running just to finish what you know you are still not going to be happy with. I tried not to think about this and instead focused my energy elsewhere. We circumvented Lake Nokomis and I looked at the waters wistfully. I wondered if it would have been more fun to be in a canoe on one of the lakes today than out here running.

Pushing toward mile 20 7:23, 7:06, 7:19, 7:25, 7:37, 7:24, 7:19

I have often said that mile 14 is one of the most important miles in a marathon. After the energy boost of passing through the halfway point, this mile can often set the tone for the rest of the race. There is always the chance for a letdown after half-marathon and if you run a strong 14th mile, then you can hopefully ride that to the end. I ran 23 seconds slower than I wanted to run here. Ooof.

Fortunately the 15th mile was much better and I hoped that I had just experienced a weird three-mile lull. Hopefully the next few miles would prove to show my turn around was about to happen. Running alongside the Mississippi River would be wonderful if you could in fact tell you were running alongside the Mississippi River. I often hear people tell tales of their races and they sound like travel agencies. They mention how it is near this body of water or this mountain or what have you. But in reality, while it is technically very close to any of those things, you often can't see it. All it takes is a line of trees or a slight mound of dirt to obstruct the view of virtually anything. In addition, if you are racing hard, you often only see right in front of your face. I was hoping for some views to perhaps pick up my spirits but saw none.  Then as my next few miles continued to slow, I was now noticing none of the beautiful homes to our left or even trying to glimpse the might Mississip to our right. I was trying to figure out what time I would be running if I kept up this pace. Math always distracts but it often does not give you the answer you are hoping for in a marathon.

Throughout the race there were a series of small hills. Nothing substantial but a plethora of them and while they may be small they were mighty (Thank you, Bard.) At the 18th mile, I walked up one of them for a bit. These ten seconds of walking slowed my pace obviously but it seemed to waken my legs. The next two miles, while crossing the river and then heading to the last 10k, were the fastest in half an hour. Perhaps I could keep up the pace and garner a 3:06 respectable marathon time.

Unfortunately, I did not know how hilly the rest of the course actually was.


Home to the Finish: 7:31, 7:53, 7:50, 7:25, 7:31; 7:18; 1:32

If you look at the elevation profile of the course, it hardly looks that daunting. Most of those hills I mentioned in the first half are almost imperceptible. And from mile 21-23, the hill which undoubtedly crushed the hopes and dreams of many is barely a 150 footer. But woe unto those who do not take these hills seriously.  The Summit Street that runners are on from mile 22 to virtually the end is aptly named. Even though I ran two miles far slower than I would like I began to pass runner after runner.

Throughout the race I was beyond happy the race had cooler weather. Nevertheless the sun was brightly shinning and without a doubt would have worn heavily on runners if not for how wonderfully shaded we were on this course. I would say 85% of the race provided cover of some sort. Here on Summit Street it was no different. A wetter than normal summer kept the trees from being their normally vibrant and beautiful colors. Nevertheless they were still gorgeous and their leaves were appreciated to no end.

Finally cresting the hill with a 5k left I was ready for what had been promised to me by spectators was an all down hill finish. Spectators lie. More rolling hills continued to pop up here and there every time I thought were were done with the climbs. I did the math and realized that I was not going to get any particular time I was hoping to get. In fact, if I didn't hunker down I would not be getting a Boston Qualifying time. I was not going to let that happen.

It has been quite some time since I have been able to really ignore pain, fatigue and suffering and slip into pain vision. This is what I call the narrowing of the eyes and the focusing on virtually nothing but a white line on the pavement in front of me.  While my pace did not exactly quicken, I was undoubtedly passing tons of runners (82 in the last 5 miles.) I cared not one bit about what place I finished or who I passed.  I wanted a time that was under 3:10.

Hitting mile 26 under a huge American Flag showed me I had about ten seconds to spare at my current pace.  Not wishing to risk it if the mile marker was a touch off, I picked up the pace. My eyes were on the clock and I saw its red blinking evil eye tick upward unmercifully. Finally, with a few meters to go I knew my hard work in the last few miles would finally pay off. I crossed under the finish line in 3:09:49 for my 55th fastest marathon ever. It was also my 16th 3:09 marathon. (That's what you get when you pace the 3:10 group so many times.)

Photo credit http://www.bengarvin.com/

There were too many friends and acquaintances running this race for me to mention all of them. However, I know many tough times were had and many personal bests were set. I came to this race looking to see if it deserves to be in the "must run" category. In spite of my less than stellar time, I can say that to experience the Twin Cities Marathon is to experience America. A crisp cool day surrounded by lakes and trees with completely random strangers whom you will never see again in your life, screaming their heads off for you for the 5 seconds they see you.  Hometown feel with big city know-how.

Running is not the cure-all for all that ails you. In addition, America is not a perfect place. But while running this marathon in the cities which are so different it is hard to understand why they are called twins on a beautiful fall day you may make just think that maybe the sport and this country are as close to perfect as we are going to get, even if just for a few hours on a Sunday in October.