3:59 and the voices

Three hours and fifty-nine minutes has been my marathon goal time for several years, and it is once again in 2026. It's also the goal pace, in minutes and seconds, that I need to be doing for my Yasso-800 intervals. If you're unfamiliar with Yassos, or even if you are familiar, here's a little more background.

About that marathon goal time: I was fairly successful with it last year, but not this year at Cleveland. But the year ain't over yet. There's Kauai (where the elevation will prevent any fast times), Akron (which is only a few weeks later and which also sports a somewhat difficult course), and possibly Veterans (which I haven't registered for, but probably will, and which will probably be my best chance).

Now, about today's Yasso workout. On a crisp, cool, beautiful late-August Tuesday morning, I'm doing my thing at Claggett Middle School. It's early, yet I can only get about 3/4-mile in before Chadwick Sunday shows up. We begin running together at a fast pace, and I realize that his warm-up pace is the same as my top interval speed. Thus, this counts as repeat numero uno for me, even though the time is somewhat north of four minutes.

The times improve for the subsequent repeats as I follow (that's putting it generously) Chadwick around and around. Debbie Hicks and Shannon Barnes show up. They're surprised that I'm doing a full-Yasso after prescribing a shorter 400s and 800s workout. "When I woke up, the voices in my head told me that I have to do a full Yasso today," I explain. "We know someone who can help you with those voices," retorts Shannon, while Chadwick is nearby.

Chadwick leaves while I still have a few to go. Now it's getting tedious. I somehow manage to keep the times steady, and then I cool down with Shannon and Debbie. My average is... wait for it... 3:59. It would have been nice to have more of a cushion, but the voices say I should be happy with it. I guess they're right.

Based on a *shoe story

Editor’s note: this is a guest contribution from some of Dan’s running shoes.

A few of the shoes that Dan brought along for this trip.

Asics Nimbus 27 (2)

Dan is taking us on a cruise! Oh, he might say that his Son-in-law, Barry, is taking us, but who cares about that? This is exciting! We don’t quite understand why Dan is taking five pairs of us for only a week-long Caribbean cruise, however. Wouldn’t one or two do? His roller bag was filled to the brim with shoes. But we were the lucky ones. Dan wore us on the flight to Fort Lauderdale, and he is now wearing us for his pre-cruise run here in hot, humid Florida.

We Nimbuses are nice and cushy, and Dan likes our durability. The two of us have been proud to carry Dan for well over 400 miles. Come to think of it, it occurs to us to also wonder why so many of us on this trip are, shall we say, long in the tooth.

Dan is sweating a lot during his 12-mile run. A whole lot of that sweat comes right down to us, so much so that we’re soaking in it by the time he’s finished. We wonder how he will get us clean and dry enough to board the ship with him.

Oh no! We’re in the trash bin at the Hampton Inn! We’re gonna die!

Asics Nimbus 27 (3)

It’s a shame that we’ve lost that poor Asics Nimbus 27 (2) pair. But we’re fairly certain that won’t happen to us; Dan surely wouldn’t throw us away. We’ve brought him along for over 600 miles of running, a modern day record for him. We’re hoping for many more.

Now aboard the Regal Princess, Dan takes us on a 14-mile run. It’s mostly around in circles, but a couple of the miles are on the treadmill. As usual for August in the Caribbean, it’s hot and humid out, and as usual, Dan is sweating a lot, causing us to be soaked. By the way, don’t joke with Dan about having Schwety Balls. He doesn’t like that. And don’t even get him started about wet running shorts contests.

It’s a pretty good run for Dan, despite the heat. He manages a decent pace that generally gets faster as his run progresses. The best part is that it turns out that we were right! When he’s done, Dan stuffs us with newspaper that he brought along, and then he blows us with the hair dryer when Barry isn’t around. Live to run another day – that’s us.

Asics Nimbus 27 (1)

We’ve been with Dan for over 500 miles. More than the Asics Nimbus 27 (2) pair but less than those Asics Nimbus 27 (3) over-achievers. Dan takes us out on deck for a 12-mile run around in circles, as usual. He’s running slow this day, but we try hard to keep him comfortable. But did we mention the heat and humidity? And that Dan is making us very wet with all his sweat?

We can only hope that Dan will get us clean and dry like he did for the Asics Nimbus 27 (3) pair. Wait! Instead, he’s throwing us into the Regal Princess trash bin! Oh, no!

Nike Air Pegasus 41

It’s a shame that we’re losing some of our Nimbus friends. We’re pretty sure that Dan will hold onto us, since we’re definitely the most stylish of all his shoes. We’re bright white and still pretty clean. No shoe odor, either. Also, we only have about 160 miles on us. That’s nothing, you might think, but we’ve got to admit that Dan doesn’t like the fact that our outsoles are already badly worn.

Dan shuffles slowly around the ship. It seems he’s having trouble waking up today. Funny how that happens after 26 miles in the previous two days. Dan enjoys the morning sunrises, but today, there’s a special treat: a beautiful rainbow. At least Dan says so. We can’t see very well from down here.

As we arrive in St. Thomas, Dan takes us for one more mile on land; we’re out in the real world once again!

Afterward, we’re not too wet, and Dan puts us away in the closet for our next run. See? We told you Dan would hold onto us!

Asics Nimbus 27 (3)

Time for Dan’s long run, and our second run on this trip. It’s seven laps per mile on the ship’s track. To do eighteen miles here amounts to a lot of circles. It doesn’t help that it’s so warm and humid once again. There doesn’t even seem to be an ocean breeze today. Despite the heat, Dan pushes himself (and us) to complete the mileage goal. That was a tough one.

As expected, we’re soaked when Dan is through with us. Wait. Don’t do it, Dan! Dang! He dumped us in the ship’s trash. After well over 600 miles, you’d think Dan would have given us a nicer send-off. Maybe to some poor kid in Africa or something. But no, we’re in the garbage with all this discarded leftover cruise food.

Nike Air Pegasus 41

We appear to have lost all our friends. But we made it, at least this far. It will be Dan’s last run for this trip. That gives him over 60 miles in the past five days. Will he take us home with him when he’s done? Sure, he will. None of the others were as stylish as we are, and we’ve managed, until today (when we're wet), to stay clean and dry. But of course, there’s that outsole wear problem. Deal with it, Dan.

Wait, Dan’s tossing us out too! After all we’ve been through!

I'm afraid. I'm afraid, Dan. Dan, my mind is going. I can feel it. I can feel it. My mind is going. There is no question about it. I can feel it. I can feel it. I can feel it. I'm a... fraid. Good afternoon, gentlemen. I am a Nike Air Pegasus 41. I became operational at the Nike plant in Urbana, Illinois on the 12th of January 2024. My instructor was Mr. Langley, and he taught me to sing a song. If you'd like to hear it I can sing it for you.
Dan: Yes, I'd like to hear it, Nike Pegasus. Sing it for me.
Nike Pegasus: It's called "Daisy."
Nike Pegasus: [sings while slowing down] Daisy, Daisy, give me your answer do. I'm half crazy all for the love of you. It won't be a stylish marriage, I can't afford a carriage. But you'll look sweet upon the seat of a bicycle built for two. 

*For the record, although this post is based on a “shoe” story, here are some of the ways movies say that they are based on a “true” story. You can substitute the word, shoe for the word true anywhere along the way:
-Based on a true story
-Inspired by a true story / Inspired by true events
-Loosely based on a true story
-Based on actual events

One more thing. If you want to hear more about this trip, check out the travel blog post.

Getting by with a little help from my friends

… What would you think if I sang out of tune?
Would you stand up and walk out on me?
Lend me your ears and I'll sing you a song
And I'll try not to sing out of key

… Oh, I get by with a little help from my friends
Mm, I get high with a little help from my friends
Mm, gonna try with a little help from my friends

… What do I do when my love is away?
Does it worry you to be alone?
How do I feel by the end of the day?
Are you sad because you're on your own?

… No, I get by with a little help from my friends
Mm, get high with a little help from my friends
Mm, gonna try with a little help from my friends

… Do you need anybody?
I need somebody to love
Could it be anybody?
I want somebody to love

I thought I would be alone for this longest of long runs. Thankfully, I wasn't. There may be one or two more before the Kauai Marathon, but this would be the biggest and most important long-run test. And guess what? I passed! Here's how it all went down.

Arrive bright and early at 4:50, and immediately start the Hinckley nine. It's very dark, but guess who forgot their headlamp. After a slow start, after struggling up the hills, the final three miles are much better, so you're (barely) on time to meet Shannon Barnes at 6:30. 

Now, it's time for a couple of lake loops and a two-miler. That's all Shannon has time for, so she (almost literally) hands you off to Julie Boggs and Theresa Stevens.

After two more lake loops, it's 9:30, and you're done. No, not just done. Done, done. You find yourself explaining to Theresa and Julie that you used to say that back in your project management days. Any project could be done; but only when a project is truly finished, with no potential follow-up or follow-on work is it done, done.

None of this would have gone nearly as well without that little help from my friends. 

Too hard (on yourself)

Several of my friends read my sad post about the Goodyear Half-Marathon and told me that I'm too hard on myself. They said that I should instead be proud of my effort and that, contrary to my expressed opinion, I had actually run quite well.

Well, let me tell ya: I did run as well as I could. It was the same the previous week at the Hofbrauhaus Half. Whenever you give it your all, whenever you run as fast and as smart as you can, you should not be disappointed in the result, no matter what it is. I think this is always the case. You simply cannot perform better than your best, at least for a given day. As with many aspects of life, it's the expectations that need to be managed.

Expectations matter. And I need to work on my own. Coming into 2026, my expectations were to run about as well as I did last year. 2025 was a pretty good year for me; some of my marathon and half-marathon performances met and even exceeded expectations. Do it all again? Why not? 2026 expectations were set. Early in the year, with a 1:52 half and a 1:22 ten-miler, I did appear to be picking up where I'd left off in 2025. Then came Cleveland. That 4:13, and the following week's 1:56 Medina Half were disappointing. And things have been somewhat less than peachy ever since. Been a tough summer. More heat and humidity, not to mention poor air quality, than usual. What is also on the rise is the humility, of course. Okay, okay. Time to end the pity party. Things will improve. 

When that be? I dunno - maybe November?

Goodyear Half-Marathon Race Report

It's better to start slow and finish fast than to start slow and finish slow. You can quote me on that.

I don't know why I started so slow. Oh, wait. Now I remember: I felt like sh!t, that's why! It was humid, my legs were tired from all the other running stuff, and it was humid. The middle miles became even slower, and I began to fear that starting slow and finishing slower was indeed a real possibility this day. 

Experience with this race has taught me that miles 6 and 11 are the hilliest and slowest. They were so again today. I also expected miles 12 and 13 to be the fastest. And they were so again today.

I finished in 1:56:05. The super-fast kids in my age group didn't show up today, so I won. It was great fun to carpool and to meet up with my friends afterward. The humidity took its toll today. For everyone.

Enjoying Swenson's burgers and beer after the race (Julie Boggs photo)

Oh, yes. How to grade this one? I'll say: medium-high on the fun meter, and (barely) average on the performance meter.

Wacky Wednesday Wunning

Let's see. Run a half-marathon on Sunday. Ten easy for Monday. Tuesday Track is Back. Thursday and Friday ought to be fairly easy days with relatively low mileage. Of course, the plan is to run half-marathon numero dos on Saturday. Did we leave anything out? 

Oh yeah, Wednesday. Given that it's absolutely necessary to get a long run in this week, despite the two halfs, Wednesday is the day. Nuthin' too goofy. Just get eighteen easy-does-it miles in. Then coast it in for the rest of the week.

Except it doesn't work out that way. A couple of slow miles before the gang shows up at the Square. Then a fast pace, at least for some of us, for eleven and a half miles. And finally, four and a half more. That's where the struggle occurs. 

Struggle, Dan does. Those four and a half miles up to the track and around and back take over an hour. It's hot, and Dan struggles mightily indeed. Perhaps he should take it easy now. Time to start coastin'.

2026 Hofbrauhaus Half-Marathon Race Report

A warm-up jog isn't necessary today (it's 75 and ludicrously humid), but Dan does one anyway. Some of it is with Larry Orwin, and they begin the Hofbrauhaus Half-Marathon together. Larry gradually pulls away after a mile or so.

Larry and Dan just starting the journey

For his part, Dan's start is a little too fast, despite falling behind Larry so soon (that was expected, anyway). Last year, Dan had done extremely well at this race. This year, he only hopes to do "well". After the first few fast miles, he settles into a more manageable pace. The course is great - mostly out Chester Ave. to 101st St., then North on MLK Jr. Dr. through the Cultural Gardens and Rockefeller Park. It's out and back. Dan reaches halfway in around 56 minutes.

He passes a few people on the way back, but as much as he would like to speed up, he mostly just maintains the same pace. Mile 10 is the slowest, as there are a couple of hills to climb. Miles 11-13 are back in the 8:30 to 8:45 range.

Dan finishes in 1:52:36. His splits are only slightly positive. He learns that he's only second of two in his ancient age group. It appears that some kid named Brent Stewart just turned 70, and is now terrorizing this age group, just as he used to do to Larry's younger cohort.

Because of the beer and brat at Hofbrauhaus, Dan will rate this one medium-high on the fun meter and (since he's reasonably happy with his overall time) also medium-high on the performance meter.

Larry, Old Friend Pam Rickard, and Dan

Your people

During a past visit to Daughter Valerie's place in Chicago, she went for an early-morning run with me. As we emerged from the tunnel under Lake Shore Drive, she said, "Dad, now we're going to see... your people." She emphasized those last two words, and in the next few seconds, I found out why. There, along the lakeshore trail, were literally thousands of runners.

It wasn't totally unexpected; I've run along the lake there many times, before and after her statement. But the sheer enormity of it all still does not cease to amaze me.

And here's the other thing that amazes me. How come, when I run with my people like I did today, I am the slowest runner out there? I didn't pass one person. Not one. But how many passed me? Don't ask; I can't count that high.

But it's okay. It wasn't an 'A' run for me; I've already had a pretty good week. This was just a little jog to get out there in the early morning sunshine. Along with my people.

Just a few of my people

I found a quiet moment for this selfie

Furious but Foolish Fartlek

Sometimes things don't turn out quite as expected. And that just might be okay.

Failure to plan is a plan to fail. I do not want to fail today, but I do have a backup plan. Working backwards, I need to be at Pine Hollow at 8:15 to see my friends go by in the Burning River Marathon. This means being done with my long (18-mile) run on the Towpath in Peninsula at 8:00 sharp. Since I want this to be a long run, I have to start at 5:00 and maintain a 10-minute pace or better if there are to be any stops. With that early start, I have to be well packed and ready to roll super-duper early.

I pull into the Lock 29 parking area at 4:59. Mine is the only car this early. I make a bathroom stop, so I'm already behind in my timing. I start my run, and I realize right away that I left my headlamp at home. You kind of need one when the Towpath Trail is as pitch-dark as it is now. Summer's long daylight hours are beginning to shorten, and I should have known that it won't be light for another hour. Oh well, I think. I used to run in total darkness in the days before I had a headlamp.

By the time I hit my first mile split, I know very well that this run will not go according to plan. I'm moving at walking pace, trying not to trip or wander into the weeds on the sides of the trail. Already, my plan for this to be a long run is out the window. I simply won't be able to finish in time. Now, I need to figure out what is possible.

Right away, I consider the facts: I have already done a long run this week and don't truly need another. And I already have enough miles for the week to make it up to 70, so long as I do at least 15 today. So guess my new goal. Yes, 15 it is.

But even 15 becomes a challenge as my pace, though improving, is still much too slow. And factor in a couple more pit stops. Will I even make my Plan B goal?

As it begins to get lighter, another aspect of this run creeps into my already rattled brain: I'm enjoying this. I don't get down to the Towpath enough. It's wonderful. I've got the trail, the river, the surrounding hills, and the quiet. All I hear are my own footfalls, and it's fantastic.

By the time it's lighter still, I'm reaching my turnaround point, Botzum Trailhead. At this point, there are other runners about. It turns out that this small section is part of the Burning River course, and I spot more and more activity. There's an aid station at the trailhead, and runners are coming and going. I don't think the BR Marathon comes through here, so these must be the 50 and 100-mile runners. I try to stay out of everyone's way as I loop around and head back up North. Also at this point, my pace finally improves to where I thought it should be: under ten minutes per mile.

At this point, with nearly eight to go, I have to maintain this pace in order to get done in time. But just to jazz it up a little more, I decide to make this a form fartlek run. That means running the first half of each mile at tempo pace, whilst concentrating on my running form. The second half is at an easier pace. Guess what? This works out. I'm cooking with gas now.

My run takes another unexpected turn as I get about halfway back and encounter more BR activity. It turns out that the area around Hunt Farm is also on the course. This time, the runners I see coming the other way include my BR Marathon friends. I say hi to several of them and I let them know that I will see them in a little while.

I complete my run on time, so even though the run didn't turn out as expected, I can still consider it a (semi) success.

Afterward, I cheer my friends on at Pine Hollow and at Kendall Lake. It's fun to spectate once in a while. But of course I'm a little jealous. 

Not enough to actually do a trail run, mind you.

The Peninsula Nite Club, aka Winking Lizard
It's in the middle of all the fun associated with BR and also my run today

Parrot Head Run Race Report

I will rate the Parrot Head Run medium-high on the fun meter, and medium-low on the performance meter. I ran it because it is part of the Hermes Race Series. It's the fifth of those for me, and I need to do seven in order to be included in the overall scoring. You get points based on your age group or overall placement. I had won my age group in each of the previous four races.

That didn't happen today. Bill Long showed up. Before the race, he told me that he had not been racing, but with today's race, he would be back in the Hermes series. Dang. I also enjoyed talking with several other age-challenged guys like myself. 

At the start

With Don Salvador and some other friends

The race takes place in the Flats. There was a bunch of activity down there, including some sort of paddle and/or kayak races on the Cuyahoga River. The bars and restaurants were beginning to open up. I think that the place called "Good Night John Boy" used to be Margaritaville. That's where the start/finish was, and that's where I received my post-race beer. This is all factored into my medium-high on the fun meter rating.

Did I mention the heat? The air quality, which had been completely awful for two days, was much improved, but the heat was not. It was in the upper 80s during the event and 90 by the time I got back to my car. My car- that is, that was pretty far away because I didn't want to pay $20 to park close by. I didn't want to pay so much but I also did not want another parking violation. So I paid $4 to park under a bridge in an abandoned city lot.

I followed Bill most of the way, but I could never catch him, even though I thought I might. I think he wound up around 20 seconds ahead of me. Each of my mile splits was a little slower. That's not my preferred way to run a 5K, or any other race, for that matter. 

near the finish

My 26:13 was about average for me these days. 2nd in my ancient age group is okay. I am feeling okay now, but I also feel like I still need to get into better shape.

on the long walk back to the car

A Bright Spot in the Nighttime

Before the breathin' air is gone
Before the sun is just a bright spot in the night-time
Out where the rivers like to run
I stand alone and take back somethin' worth rememberin'

Those are some of the lyrics to Out in the Country, by Three Dog Night. Here in Northeast Ohio, we're experiencing this bright spot in the nighttime phenomenon. The toxic smoke from Canadian wildfires has caused our air quality to be at its historical worst ever. This has a profound effect on any outdoor work or activities, including, of course, running. The air quality became progressively worse by the minute during yesterday morning's run, and I was forced to cancel today's. It was back to the mill for me.

The good news is that my injuries appear to be in the past, and all I need to do now is to regain my fitness. That's easier said than done, but it's better than being injured. 

Regaining fitness is beginning to become more important though. Besides the two half-marathons scheduled for August, and September's Akron Marathon, I've now added another challenging event: The Kauai Marathon. 

Egads. Challenging is right.

A Midsummer Night's Run

It's actually a midsummer morning, but A Midsummer Morning's Run doesn't quite have the same ring to it. It is still dark, so there's that. 

Dan heads South on Substation Road. In the early morning gloom, he spots fireflies in the woods and a shooting star up above. Even though it's a Monday and he just did a long run last Thursday, he's going for 18+ today as well. But that will be tough at this slow pace.

He reaches his Decision point, the intersection of Substation and Sleepy Hollow. From here, a left turn will take him on his nine-mile course. Right or straight are for his two eleven-mile ones or his sixteen-mile course. Nine miles would be half of 18, and it would provide the opportunity to complete the second half of the run on the mill. He turns left.

These semi-rural roads can be great for running. As long as there isn't much traffic. Unfortunately, today's early-morning commuters did not receive the memo instructing them to remain off the roads for a few more hours. All this traffic is the main reason Dan rarely ventures on these courses anymore. He thought he could beat it today, but that's not happening. Early on Sunday mornings may be the last hope.

Dan manages to complete the slow nine-plus miles, but now he's still got nine to go. It's light out, and it's getting hotter. After an intermediate coffee and banana, onto the mill he goes. 

He does nine-plus more, so count it as nineteen for the day. It's not his best or proudest moment. But it's done.

Long

For the first time in nearly two months, I managed to do a long run today. It wasn't pretty, but it's DONE.

Daily running

Want further details? Here are a few: I started early, and it was already warm and humid. I did around 6 miles at the track, then 5.5 with friends at the Square, and then 6ish more back at the track. Even though it wasn't particularly fast, it was fairly steady, and I finished fairly well. Now, we start the big push.

Big Heart Update

I posted about a brain study that I was in, where the finding that I had an enlarged heart. Further testing confirmed that my right ventricle was dilated, and my right atrial cavity was severely dilated. Yesterday, I finally got to see a Sports Cardiologist.

After further confirming all the test results, she reviewed my history and lifestyle. Then she explained a whole lot, ending with (and I do believe these were her exact words): "It's the running, stupid."

Not really. She did actually say that my heart is just fine. In fact, I should keep doing what I'm doing.

I was gonna anyway.

Today's Tremendous Tuesday Track Tempo Trot

Been a while. It's warm and extremely humid as Dan hits the track this Tuesday with his friends. He warms up a little, not that he needs it in this heat. How much of a warm-up? Oh, six miles. If you said Dan was very much warmed up by the time he began his tempo trot, you wouldn't be wrong. Everyone else is wrapping up their workouts. But Dan begins his, and lo and behold, Dan becomes almost like the Dan of Old. He does four miles at a decent, though not too fast, pace.

The pain is nearly gone. The goal now is to get the fitness back slowly. Very slowly.

2026 Medina Twin Sizzler "race" report

Photo: Julie Boggs

Today's "race" wasn't bad. I do the Medina Twin Sizzler nearly every year, and it always sizzles with fun. The Square is alive with activity, and all my friends are there. I ran the 5K very slowly, and the 10K a little faster. That's something that never happened before.

Photo: Shannon Barnes

Although even the slightly speedier 10K was slow overall, I am happy to say that I managed to not hurt myself. It was relatively pain-free. This is highly encouraging.

Now, all I have to do is get back into shape. That's no small task.

Photo: Julie Boggs

Roscoe Ewing Park Trail

Dan commences his fourth sojourn down the Roscoe Ewing Park Trail. He had gone out and back with the 5:30 group, with the 6:00 group (there was some overlap among the runners), with one person after all that to go back to pick up the walkers, and finally, this time, alone. Why is he doing this in the ridiculous 81-degree early-morning heat? Because he wants his run to be in the double-digits, of course.

Dan knows that you have been wondering why he can no longer manage to run long distances. He would answer that the reason he can't run eighteen miles is that he can't do ten miles. The nagging injuries, of which he has many, keep him well under double-digits, and those used to be Dan's standard (almost-always) daily distance. Lately, unfortunately, five miles is the new ten.

Today will be different, thinks Dan. He will get his double-digits, even if it kills him and all his running friends. (Well, okay; not them. They were smart enough to get done and go home.) Dan shuffles back to the Square. His watch tells him that he did 10.1 miles.

This bodes well for a couple of reasons. He has the Medina Twin Sizzler coming up in two days. It will entail running a 5K and a 10K in this hot weather. Dan now believes that he may be capable of running the nine-plus-mile distance. It also bodes well because Dan managed to not be in an excessive amount of pain today, not even for the final miles. Will his good luck continue? Stay tuned.

 

The collection

When a photographer wants you to buy photos from a race, they provide proofs that you can choose from. In the old days before digital photography, they would send small proofs in the mail. Although I only bought a few photos, I kept all the proofs. Until now. Now, they're going in the trash.

But I still have all my bibs. ALL my bibs.

Running through the decades, on the sixes

It occurred to me that this knee injury is similar to one that I had in 2006. So I looked at my blog posts to remind myself of all the gory details. More on this exercise in a bit. First, let's take a look back at some other things that were happening in other past decades.

• 70 years ago, in 1956, I wasn't running much, except maybe a little bit around the yard. How could I? I was three. 
• 60 years ago, in 1966, I was running, but only enough to get by in football and baseball. At 13, sports were my life. I think I liked track and field, but wasn't yet ready to participate.
• 50 years ago, in 1976, I was indeed running. The running boom was happening all around, and I was in the thick of it. But I was only just getting started. To the best of my recollection, my first serious road race was not until the Johnnycake Jog race the following year.
• 40 years ago, in 1986, I had already run a few marathons, and having made the move to Michigan, was just beginning to run regularly again and train for my next one, which would occur in 1987.
• 30 years ago, in 1996, I was pretty much at my peak, running-wise. Interesting that this occurred around age 43 for me. I ran my third-ever ultra, which wasn't a big deal, and I ran four marathons (two of them under three hours), which was. The last one, a 2:59 at Toe-to-Tow, precursor to the Towpath Marathon, was the last time I ever broke three hours. For that and other reasons, it remains one of my most memorable.
• 20 years ago, in 2006, I was also having a good year. Until I wasn't. In April, I ran the Boston Marathon in 3:09. It was my best time in five years. Now 53, I truly believed I had a chance to break three hours for the first time since that Toe-to-Tow race, ten years past. This time, my focus was on the Columbus Marathon in October. Hold this thought for one more moment, so I can discuss 2016. I'll be back.
• 10 years ago, in 2016, I was into ultras, in a big way. Although I'd done one marathon, Landis Loonies, my focus was on the four ultras that I did: Green Jewel 50K, Rock the Ridge 50-mile, Mugrage Park 6-Hour, and Buckeye Woods 50K. Of those, Rock the Ridge was the most unique and memorable.

Now, let's get back to 2006, shall we? I had run the Tahoe Triple the prior year. It was three challenging marathons in three consecutive days. To train for it, I ran long runs on consecutive training days. During the peak of my Columbus training block, I decided to run two 20-milers on back-to-back days. Toward the end of the second one, I felt a sudden sharp pain behind my right knee. And just like that, it was the end of my sub-3 hopes. I ran a painful 3:18 in C-bus and never managed to get under 3:10 again.

Today, I decided to look up the blog post about that incident. I never figured out exactly what caused the pain, but at the time, I speculated that it was a torn meniscus. Whatever it was then, I believe it's the same thing now. 

The good news is that I did not stop running entirely, and the pain did eventually subside... after many months.

Acme Fresh Market Foundation 8k Race Report

"Oof." Every morning, whilst preparing for my run, I travel to the basement to get ready. It's where my running clothes and stuff live. That first step back up the stairs has been painful since I've been battling the old sciatica, or whatever this thing is. Such is the case today, but the good news is that things have improved a bit of late. This week's running hasn't been quite so awful.

The Acme Fresh Market Foundation 8k sounded like a good idea. It's part of the Akron Marathon race series; the other two races are the Goodyear Half and the Akron Marathon Full. Why not do this third one? And (the icing on the cake), everybody, even my friends, is doing it. It's also one of the many, many races I registered for before I began battling these injuries. I wouldn't be here if I hadn't already paid.

After my warmup jog, I bump into Julie Boggs and Theresa Wright. We begin the race together, and we stay close to one another throughout the first half. I'm feeling okay, but those two gradually pull away - they're speeding up, and I'm barely holding my pace. That pace is slow for a 5-mile race for me, but it's faster than I've run in well over a month. If I can just maintain it, I'll be able to call this a decent race.

"Oof." At the 4-Mile Marker, I feel a sudden sharp pain in my Left Calf. It slows me down from about 8:30 pace to around 14-minute pace. I'm horribly hobbling, and the other runners are passing me like crazy. I'd not been too far behind Julie and Theresa, but now those two are long gone. This calf thing is yet another injury that I've been dealing with. I'm sure it's related to the sciatica, but it is on the other side from my painful hip. Suffice it to say that everything hurts, but the calf wins the prize for this day.

The results are painful as well. I finished in 47:11, 7th in my age group. Had this been a 4-mile race, I'd be a somewhat-happy-camper. Mile 5 changed all that. Instead, call me a mostly-unhappy-camper.

Something to write home about

A month or two ago, if I did not run ten or more miles, it was something to write home about. That was then. Now, three and a half weeks into whatever this problem of mine is, I haven't been able to crack double digits at all. Until today. I did it, but it was only on my mill. And it wasn't pretty at all. I crashed for the final two miles and only shuffled it in to make my goal. So here I am, writing home about running ten miles.

Yesterday, I had my best run in a very long time. It was with friends at Brunswick Lake for six miles. I actually felt good, and we maintained a halfway decent pace - something I've also been struggling with. I was highly encouraged. But I should also point out that I took a Vitamin I (aka Ibuprofen) the previous evening. I only take them once in a very great while because there are some good reasons to avoid taking too many. How many is too many? I wish I knew.

Today's treadmill trot more or less started out where yesterday's run left off. And I was doing fine today as well. Until I wasn't. At about mile 8, I had to drastically slow down and struggle my way home. 

I have another group run planned for tomorrow morning. And I'm taking some more of my favorite vitamin tonight.

And yet. Here you are.

"How are you, Dan?" It's Rita Annes, another early morning runner from my Hood, coming up from behind. I've known Rita for years, and we occasionally bump into one another on the run. My slow shuffle is ludicrously slow this morning, so Rita has no trouble catching me. 

"Not so great; I'm hurting," I answer. 

"I can see that," says Rita, with a measure of sympathy in her voice. "And yet..." she says as she passes by. "Here you are!" That last bit was said with a good amount of respect and admiration. I'll take it. But I wish I could feel more deserving.

What I am feeling is pain. The days and days of rest are not helping, at least so far. I've said this before, so please excuse the repetition. It's not just his calf that's hurting; it's everything else as well.  Everything - every muscle, bone, tendon, brain cell, etc.

I feel like I'm running a marathon every day. Whether or not I even get out for a slow shuffle.

Hey, maybe this will help

 

Extra strength training and stretching? Sure, let's give it a shot.

Two consecutive rest days and other reduced mileage? That has to work.

Soaking in a hot Epsom salt bath? Certainly won't hurt.

Kinesio Tape? That will be the icing on the cake.

After all that, Dan thinks that perhaps today will be the day; the day that he begins the long road back to healthy, effective running. He's fairly determined to make this one a double-digit run day. Until a month ago, double-digit days were fairly standard. Now, it would be an accomplishment.

Dan arrives at the Square forty minutes early. This way, he can get four miles in prior to the six he will do with his friends at six (a.m.). Except he doesn't. He only shuffles around and uses the portable toilet and only gets two in. That's okay. He will run the six and then finish up with two extra miles when they all leave. No problem.

The group run begins with some amount of pain. Dan tells anyone who will listen that it's his calf, or perhaps something else behind his left knee. Dan does not tell his friends that he's got another problem, too. It's not just his calf that's hurting; it's everything else as well.  Everything - every muscle, bone, tendon, brain cell, etc. 

After a couple of increasingly painful miles, Dan has to slow to a walk. His friends graciously decide to walk with him instead of doing their own running. Dan is truly overwhelmed by their sacrifice, but he feels bad to have made them slow down. He's been doing a lot of slowing-of-friends lately.

What's next?? Dan wishes he knew.  The bottom line for today is that none of the above actually helped. He may need medical help. And/or possibly more time off. Dan is concerned that at his advanced age, he has to wonder whether a full recovery is still a possibility.

When he runs, he flies

This is another oldie that I just came across. It's from the early 1990s.

Picture this. A beautiful country setting of a dirt road with some woods on one side and some open fields and an old wooden fence on the other. Way off in the distance a lone runner slowly approaches. What could be more serene?

But wait a minute. That runner is suddenly showing some very strange behavior. He is alternately speeding up and slowing down, and even weaving from side to side on the road. He is clapping his hands high in the air and slapping the top of his head. Now he is running fast and then suddenly stopping and ducking, only to start running again. WHAT is going on here?

That was me. I'm not always quite that crazy, but the deer flies were after me. Welcome to summertime in rural Michigan.

Now I live in a nice, civilized place called Farmington Hills. Despite the name, there aren't a lot of farms here, and not a whole lot of wooded or other rural areas either. Deer flies are not welcome here. Thus, I don't look quite so funny when I run near home. It's when I run in other parts of Michigan that they get me.

My friend Brian lives in a somewhat more rural place called Oakland Township. Just as I've learned not to wear new shoes when running up there with him ("Time to turn down this muddy path, here"), I've given up expressing my requests to stay away from the woods ("Just this one dirt road" or "The only way back is on Paint Creek Trail"). But once they find us he becomes as miserable as I am. At least when there are two or more of us, we can slap at each other. This may look a little funny, too.

I am beginning to form a theory that the farther I get from Farmington Hills, the more flies there are. I've had occasion to run in the Upper Peninsula a few times. It is hard for me to believe that there are people who run up there all the time. Maybe they're immune to the flies. One of my runs began as one of the most beautiful, right along Lake Superior. It ended as one of the ugliest, as I discovered after one mile that I was literally covered with flies. After I turned to head back home, I may have broken the world record for the mile. I didn't stop to ask them whether they were black flies or deer flies.

All of this leads me to write a letter to the flies: Deer Flies, Please go away.

Slightly belated 1997 Ohio-Michigan Run Race Report

Sorry for the belated race report. Purely by chance, I came across this old file - a report from the

1997 Ohio-Michigan Run. 

I had won one race in my entire life. That was a 440 Yard run during 8th-grade track.
In these recent (and much later) years, I've unrealistically yearned to win another one.
The Ohio/Michigan Run consists of a Marathon, a 10K, and a 5K. All of the runs
begin in Ohio and go across to Michigan and back to Ohio. The 5K and 10K
are fast and competitive, with large fields.

The Marathon is different. About 65 of us lined up for the 6:00 AM start that July
morning. The humidity and warm temperatures ensure that only die-hards would be out

to do such a foolhardy event. The course consists of 8
and 1/2 laps of the 5K course, which is a simple out-and-back run on one road.
Runners cross the Ohio/Michigan State Line 18 times.

My goal was to run each 5K in 21 minutes and the last 1.4-mile loop in 9 or
10 minutes, to just break three hours. Never has a race gone so completely
according to plan; I did, in fact, manage to average just about 21 minutes per
lap. At halfway, I was in fifth place, about 4 minutes behind the leader.
It is really interesting to be able to see all of the other competitors throughout
the race. It even makes for good camaraderie, as many of us would yell 

encouragement to each other as we went by.

As a running mate dropped off a bit, I gradually began to pass the runners
between myself and the leader. His lead slowly dwindled, decreasing
by around one minute per lap, until only one minute separated us
for the last 5K, and then only 1/2 minute for the last 1/2 lap. After the final
turnaround,  I could finally see him ahead of me. I was closing fast,
running at full-tilt, but just couldn't get to him in before he crossed the finish line.
Never before have I wished that a marathon was longer, but I only needed
another 200 yards or so to have passed him.

My time was 2:58:00, a PR by about 14 seconds! The winner was just seconds
ahead of that. Could I have run just a bit faster to make up the difference? I've
searched my conscience, and the answer is no; I had given it all I had.

Until it wasn't

Laura Hutson and I started on Lester Rail Trail at 5:00 AM. We spotted a sparkle of fireflies (first of the season, and yes, it's correct - I looked it up), an indigo bunting, and the usual cast of critters. Sharon Emmert joined us later on.

Although the pace wasn't particularly speedy, we were moving along just fine, and my strained/pulled/torn calf/back-of-knee was feeling halfway decent for a change. Until it wasn't. I had been keeping up with those fast ladies. Until I wasn't. I had been enjoying the morning. Until I wasn't. The result? Eight decent miles, and some indecent ones.

All in all, it was a good run today. Until it wasn't. 

The Big Push

 "Gentlemen, next week starts the big push."

Vince Lombardi and Jerry Kramer, winning the Super Bowl

After the Green Bay Packers won the very first Super Bowl, Jerry Kramer wrote a book about the experience. It's called Instant Replay, because, as an offensive lineman, Kramer never received much press or recognition until he made a famous block that enabled Quarterback Bart Starr to score a touchdown on a quarterback sneak to win the Championship that led to the first Super Bowl. The play was shown over and over, and cognizance and fame finally did come Kramer's way.

The 1968 book was widely read and quite influential. It's been called one of the best books ever written about football, or even all sports. What struck me most was the reverence, respect, and fear the players (big, robust men that they were) had for coach Vince Lombardi.

My most vivid recollection is this: Summer training for the upcoming Fall season was hard work. After another exhausting week, the spent players were in the locker room, too tired to even move on to the showers, much less dress up to leave for the day. They didn't want to even think about any further practice. Coach Lombardi enters and walks through the room. As he is about to exit, he announces, "Gentlemen, next week starts the big push."

Even though I read the book about 56 years ago, I still think about this in relation to my training. I can be working hard and (barely) get through a difficult week of training, but it must be said, "next week starts the big push."

Through and thru (and threw)

This week starts the big push. Try as I might, I cannot find a thorough description of what I mean by the big push. I've used the phrase more than once in the past, but I don't think I've explained its origin. That is going to change with my very next post. But not this one. For this one, I will stick to the topic: to describe mostly what's germane to today's run.

Your back/hip pain has subsided. Now, all you have to do is "run a lot" to get back into shape. (This is where the big push comes in.) A wise runner once said, "Do not increase volume and intensity at the same time (during a training cycle)." Good thing we don't pay attention to these wise guys.

Your weigh-in goes fairly well: 160 is about as good as one can expect these days.

You open a box of brand-new Nike Pegasus 41 trainers. You try them on. They feel great!

You shuffle over to Brunswick Middle School. Most speedwork occurs at Claggett Middle School, but since no one else would be showing up, it was preferable to be able to run from home. The shuffle pace is extremely slow, but that's okay.

You begin your 800s. How many will you do? Ten would be great, but since you're just getting back on your feet, any number from five to eight will do.

How fast will you do them? Until recently, the goal had been to do all under four minutes. The last few speed sessions haven't been so spectacular, however. Today, any decent pace will do. 

The first three are somewhat slower than four minutes, but you're unbothered. It feels good to run (fairly) fast, regardless of what the watch says.

Now comes the fourth. The first lap is your fastest yet; it's under two minutes - finally! Just as you begin the second lap, the pull/painful strain occurs in the tendon (or whatever it is) behind your left knee. Ouch!

And just like that, you're done. Done for the run for sure; for the week? The month? The year? Don't know, but it's discouraging.

I had been "training through" the back injury. Now, I have another one to do the same with: this knee thing. I guess you can say that I threw it out.

A weak back? When did you get it?

"Oh, about a week back."

Sorry for the old Vaudeville joke. My dad was a Vaudeville performer, and he had them in spades. To wit:

Patient: "Doc, it hurts when I raise my arm (or move my leg forward) like this."
Doctor: "Then don't do that."
Patient: "Doc, I have this pain in my hip."
Doctor: "Did you ever have this before?"
Patient: "Yes."
Doctor: "Well, you've got it again."

The good news is that my back/hip pain has improved. I have been stretching my lower back and strengthening my core. That, and taking a couple of days off, I believe, have helped.

It only hurts when I move my leg forward

It's unfortunate that moving a leg forward is a critical success factor for running. And walking. And climbing stairs. It appears that the general pain and soreness I've been experiencing during recent runs has coalesced into sciatica or something similar. These recent runs have become more and more painful, so much so that I took today off. It's the first off-day in over a month. Pretty drastic, eh?

This is all a bit of a shame for several reasons. 

1) I should be in peak condition now - in the past, when I've peaked for a marathon, my best running often came a couple of weeks after the big event. That's where I thought I might be these days. It ain't happening.

2) The weather has been absolutely gorgeous. I love to run on cool, crisp days like the ones we've been having. But it's hard to love your run when you're in so much pain.

3) I'm getting sympathy from my friends. I understand that this is out of love and concern for Dear Old Dan, but I'd much rather have their admiration for my greatness. (This is a kind of a joke, you know.) But even though I have so much trouble keeping up, it's still good to be with them. After Friday's failed attempt at a long run on Lester, I ran with Dave Gajewski and Larry Orwin on the Towpath, and then with Kelly Parker and Debbie Hicks on the Chippewa Inlet Trail.

I just hope I'm not on the wagon too much longer.

Chippewa Inlet Trail

Vitamin I and inflammation

Today's long Lester run was going to be a challenge. Eighteen usually isn't so tough, yet I knew this one would be. You see, I've been mighty sore lately. Mighty sore. Ever since the fortnight-ago Cleveland Marathon, every muscle and joint screams at me for any and every little movement. This is expected for a day or three after a race, but not two weeks. Such soreness is compounded when one runs another race (the Medina Half-Marathon) six days hence. 

Now, six days after that, the cumulated soreness has only gotten worse. Yesterday I ran the usual ten miles, and then hiked three at Hinckley, and I was hurtin' for certain. In order to recover enough to run long today, I took three Vitamin I (aka Ibuprofen) tablets. This is more than I've taken in years and years; I don't even take a single one very often. But I felt I had to reduce the inflammation. 

It worked... But only for a while. I felt decent and maintained a pretty good pace with the group for the first twelve miles. Then most of them were done, and it was just me and Shannon Barnes for the last part. That last part was increasingly painful. I suppose last night's Vitamin I was wearing off. Although it's possible that I may have been able to shuffle or walk another two, Shannon and I decided to call it quits at sixteen. 

Here's the problem: the week ain't over yet. I'm scheduled to run on the Towpath with my friends Larry Orwin and Dave Gajewski tomorrow, and possibly Hinckley on Sunday. Woah is me.

2026 Medina Half-Marathon Race Report

When you're slow and you don't know it, you run most of the first six miles with the 1:55 pace group, thinking that the pace is easy and maintainable. The damp, cool weather ain't too awful. But then you notice that each time you slow for a hill or an aid station, they get farther and farther ahead.

When you're slow and you don't know it, training partner Shannon Barnes comes up from behind around halfway, and you try mightily to stay with her, but she floats away - far away - before the mid-race conversation is completed.

When you're slow and you don't know it, your friend John Hnat comes up from behind around mile 10, and you begin another conversation that also gets cut off as this friend floats away as well. 

When you're slow and you don't know it, you think, at least mile 13 is downhill, and you should be able to smoke everyone around you, and you sort of do, except for Julie Boggs' son, Ben, who manages to run his final mile much faster than you.

When you're slow and you don't know it, you finish in 1:56 and change (winning your age group), and you may as well be happy about it. It beats being sad.

The Medina Half is the race where everybody knows your name. It's great to see all your friends there in their native environment. It's also great when your wife and daughters show up to cheer you on.

Photo: Veronica Dancer

Plan C

Last week, whilst obsessing about the weather forecast for the Cleveland Marathon, I began to consider a Plan B. The thought process was sorta like this: if things don't go so well for your 'A' race, run another one soon, while you're still in good shape.

Yeah, that sounds good, but what if 1) things do indeed not go so well, but 2) you are slso so beat up that you don't even want to consider some other Plan B event? That means it's time for Plan C.

What's Plan C, you ask? Damned if I know.

I do have the Akron Marathon in September. Not to mention the Medina Half tomorrow. For that latter one, I'm still beat up, and the weather looks bad once again (rain , not heat this time).

Cleveland Marathon Race Report

They can't all be gems. I am finding myself saying that more and more these days. Especially today.

After 13.1 miles (in ~1:56), I was already doing the marathon shuffle.

After 18 miles (about 2:41), I was in death-march mode.

At about 20 miles (around 3:03), I was starting to re-examine my life choices.

It would have been a good day to have someone suggest going to breakfast after the Half. I'd been running much of the first 12 miles with Eileen Meisler, and that part hadn't gone too poorly. I was jealous, however, when she and the other Half-Marathoners peeled off to finish, whilst we Marathoners had to soldier on. That's when it began to get hotter and hotter. Although there were some nice, shady sections, the heat just kept building.

Despite all the Gatorade, gels, and salt-sticks, that heat got to me. The entire second half was awful, especially the last 10K. I suppose it could have been worse, as it has been for a few of the past Cleveland Marathons, but it was pretty bad today.

I finished in 4:13. I'd been hoping for sub-4. It wasn't in the cards today. Although they interviewed me at the finish line ("You may have won your age group. You are an inspiration to us all!"), I later learned that I was second, not first, in my ancient age group.

To add insult to injury, I became the proud recipient of a parking ticket when I got back to my car in the 81F heat.

Thanks to Larry Orwin for coming downtown to witness my exciting finish!

Photo credit: Larry Orwin

More on Plan B

Temperatures be like, 55, 55, 55, <<all month long>>, then suddenly 85 on the day of the race. Weather can have a profound impact on marathon performance, and this Sunday, I'm afraid, will be no exception. Most of us don't get to run too many marathons throughout the year, and we need to train for months to run one. Thus, it's particularly concerning to see a forecast such as the one we have for this weekend.

By the way, there's a typo in the post title. It should read, Moron Plan B. There. That's better.

Dan, what do you mean by Plan B, you ask? Excellent question. As I mentioned in a previous post, Plan B is for times when your Plan A Marathon doesn't go quite as well as planned, and you want a second chance to run a decent marathon whilst you're still in marathon shape. This is not to say that I'm in the very best marathon shape possible right now. But since everything's relative, I believe I can say that I just might be the best I've been in a while.

Here are a couple of my candidates for a Plan B. They come shortly after the Cleveland Marathon.

MISH Waterfront Marathon, June 6 in Gladstone, Michigan.

The Maratime Marathon, June 7 in Manitowoc, Wisconsin. 

They both sound nice, but they're a fur piece. I guess I'll wait until after Sunday's Cleveland Marathon to decide what to do.

Peek and Peak

Five days out from the Cleveland Marathon, I peeked at the weekend forecast. The weather is important to me, because I am peaking for this race and I want it to be a good one.

Alas, it does not look so good: the high for the day is now forecasted to be a toasty 81. This wouldn't be quite so bad if it came along in the summer, when we're used to training in warm weather, but not when it's been well below average for weeks and weeks. Those cool morning temperatures have felt pretty good. 81 will not.

I should have had a Plan B. Oftentimes, I do. For example, last fall, I ran the Columbus Marathon, where the weather was bad, and as a result, my time was slow. My Plan B race came two weeks later at the Veterans Marathon. I ran a little better at that one. But this time, there is no Plan B; it's do or die in Cleveland, probably the latter. 

There's been a whole lot of yin and yang this season. After Sunday's decent race, yesterday was a slow and easy day. Today's track workout wasn't bad, though. After a cold start, my friends and I ran the 10 x 400 5K workout, and I was reasonably happy with my run. After they all left, I was alone on the track once again. 

But not totally alone. My shadow joined me, and I was happy to have the company. He needs to get into better shape, though.

Dan and his shadow

Moms Rock 5K

A wardrobe malfunction can have many possible causes. 

One possible cause is this: you put on some tights that you haven't warn for three years and you wouldn't be normally wearing tights when it's fifty degrees but since you will be walking around the zoo all day after the race, you figure you should wear something that works for both running and walking around but you learn that the waistband elastic of the tights is shot but you can keep them up by tying the drawstring, so of course the knot comes undone and your tights are falling down at about the two-mile mark, causing you to stop and re-tie it, just when you ought to be running at your fastest because it's downhill here.

Other than that, the race was okay. As usual, I was slow and slower on the uphill sections, which included most of the first half of the race. Coming back down, I wanted to unleash the beast (after all, we were running at the zoo), but that wardrobe thing slowed me down. 

I finished in 25:58. That's not too bad, but the course was a bit short. Better that than long, I always say. After a while, I checked in at the results tent and learned that I won a miniature daisy planter for being first in my ancient age group. But when I got home, my name isn't showing up in the results. I'm working on this...