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...

DNS

over·​train: transitive + intransitive: : to train (a person or animal) to excess or beyond advantage : to harm (a person or animal) by too much training.

I'm on the mill today. Is that because the weather's bad, you ask? Nope. I just couldn't get myself out the door. And last night, I couldn't get myself over to Medina for the Run 4 Fun 5K. It was raining, but that only reinforced my decision to stay at home. I think I've ventured into the overtraining arena.

My first clue was Tuesday's speedwork. That wound up being a failure to launch, just like last week's session. Then came the Thursday night Ladd 5K. That was almost an all-time personal worst. And it's not for lack of trying.

Tomorrow it will be the Moms Rock 5K at the zoo. It will be Mother's Day, and Debbie will come with me. More importantly, we're only a week away from the Cleveland Marathon. Uh oh.

Well that was tough

I did my long run today, the day after the Run for Tacos. Two Hinckley loops with training partner Julie Boggs, plus a couple more miles to make twenty altogether. It wasn't easy. It's the last long one before Cleveland. Glad it's done. Now, I'm done.

Will Run for Tacos Cinco de Mile 5-Mile Race Report

It was a nice, clear, beautiful Spring morning for the Will Run for Tacos Cinco de Mile 5-Mile race. The good weather brought out a good turnout of runners and lots of good competition. I ran fast, and I’m quite proud of my performance. Afterward, the tacos were extremely tasty.

Not one of those previous statements is even remotely true. Here’s the real story.

I’m officially on fire. Not in terms of running. It’s the post-race taco. Not totally aware or even coherent, I had waited in line after the race, and received a lukewarm soft taco wrapped in foil. I had unwrapped the foil and opened the taco to discover a thin smear of meat, sauce, perhaps melted cheese, and maybe some other stuff. I wasn’t concerned about anything unhealthy therein, because there was so little of it. At the next station, I had squirted on some hot sauce and added lettuce. Then I’d found a warm corner inside where I could stand up and enjoy my meal. It's hot! It is three-alarm-fire hot; I’d added too much of the much-too-hot sauce. Of course, I consume it anyway. It’s been that kind of morning.

The Will Run for Tacos event takes place in the Tremont Neighborhood of Cleveland. The weather is awful – 37F with cold, drizzly rain. I don’t want to get out of my car, but I eventually do go for a short warmup run. Then I line up with the 5K runners as well as 94 other 5-Mile runners. The race is simply out and back on the Towpath Trail. I think this part is fairly new; it certainly is for me. It runs more or less along the West Bank of the Cuyahoga River. 

Even though I hadn’t warmed up properly due to the cold, damp weather, the first mile goes well. Of course, that’s because it’s downhill. I am gonna pay coming back. At 2 ½ miles, we turn around, and I eventually start going back up. Yes, I do pay, big time. My last mile turns out to be my slowest. It’s the opposite of last week’s race.

My time is 42:24, good for first in my ancient age group. That 8:29 pace is slower than last week’s pace for double the distance. I have some work to do.

Ludicrous and other speeds

It all started with the film Ben-Hur. Remember the slave rowers on the Roman warship? Based on orders from the Admiral, the guy beating the drums increased his cadence from ‘battle speed’ to ‘attack speed,’ and all the way up to ‘ramming speed.’ The rowers had to match the drumming cadence, and naturally had a tough time at the higher speeds.

Then there was ‘warp speed’. Warp speed is a term popularized by Star Trek to describe faster-than-light travel, which has since entered the public lexicon to mean an extremely fast pace.

In Star Wars, ‘hyperspace’ is an alternate dimension allowing faster-than-light travel, enabling ships to cross the galaxy by bypassing real-space limitations. Navigated via computers to avoid stellar "mass shadows," it uses hyperdrives, often colloquially termed ‘lightspeed,' though actual speeds vary for plot purposes, frequently appearing as near-instantaneous travel.

This brings us to ‘ludicrous speed.’ Ludicrous speed is the faster-than-light speed from the 1987 movie Spaceballs, surpassing ‘light speed' and ‘ridiculous speed’ to reach ‘plaid’. Ordered by Dark Helmet, it requires extreme safety precautions (fastening seatbelts, securing the zoo) and causes physical discomfort. It is famously faster than light, which is considered "too slow".

The best speed of all, however, is ‘speedwork speed.’ Dan attempted to achieve this particular speed during today’s Yasso workout at the Brunswick Middle School Track. Although Dan did do ten 800s, it didn’t happen. His interval speed didn’t even reach battle speed. Maybe next week.

500 million Chinese don't know you're playing

In my younger days, UCLA had a basketball coach named John Wooden. His teams were highly successful, winning championship after championship. Yet he was known to be very down to earth. I recall a story about him trying to calm his team down prior to yet another National Championship Game. To try to help them understand that although sports are important, they should be kept in perspective, he told them, "There are 500 million Chinese who don't even know you are playing." Of course, nowadays, there are two and a half times that many Chinese, and many of them do know at least something about U.S. college hoops. More concerning to me is that my recollection isn't as accurate as I thought. I now find that the quote should be attributed to American sports commentator and former coach Bill Raftery, not John Wooden. Oh well.

I bring all this up because even though I was pleased as punch with myself after yesterday's 10-mile race, it isn't quite the cat's meow of road racing. As far as I can tell, I ran two ten-mile races slower and a whole bunch faster. This run was nearly a personal worst! My fastest ten is nearly 20-minutes better. I just compiled a list. I am probably missing several, but here it is.

Hermes Cleveland 10 Miler Race Report

Before the start at Edgewater

“You gotta be kidding me,” I say out loud. I don’t think any of the other runners heard, though. That’s important because there may have been an expletive between the words, ‘be’ and ‘kidding’. I am referring to the hill that keeps on going at mile 7 of the Hermes Cleveland 10 Miler. We’d already been going up, climbing out of Wendy Park and the Flats, but now we have to go up and onto some bridges, where we go up some more. My first five miles had all been under 8:20, but mile six, which was also uphill, was slower. Now I wind up with a disastrous 9:06 split for mile seven.

Worst of all, Warren Elzy is now long-gone. I had been fairly close behind, but now I can hardly see him on the straight-aways. He’d pulled much farther ahead on these hills. Warren is in my age group. I remember racing against him on several occasions, but it’s been a while. He usually beats me, and it looks like that’s going to happen again today. I am not sure where my other age-group competitors are at this point.

The Hermes Cleveland 10 Miler starts and finishes at Edgewater Park in Cleveland. It’s a wonderful park, even on a cool, dreary morning. Cool and misty turn out to be just the ticket for good racing, however. For most runners. After my solid first half but drastic slowdown, will I be able to salvage this race?

Miles eight and nine are not so hilly, and my mile splits are in the 8:20s. As I suspected, mile ten is downhill. Downhill all the way. I am surprised to spot Warren ahead of me. He’s slowing down a whole lot, and I’m speeding up. I pass him just before the final downhill section leading to the finish line at the Edgewater Boathouse Pavilion. It’s a 7:10 mile. Yes, it’s downhill, but I can’t remember the last time I ran this fast.

We talk after the finish. Warren had sustained an injury, and that’s what had slowed him down. I learn that I won the age group with a time of 1:22:53, an 8:17 pace. I’m pretty happy with all that. I’ll take a win any way I can get it. Legally, of course.

Here's the finish. Guess who's happy it's over?

The worm and I

When stretched out, my nightcrawler is a good six inches long. Wait. That didn't sound quite right. I'm talking about a real worm here, folks.

Call him Ishmael. Ishmael is in lane six, and he is indeed about a half-foot long. He appears to be making his way toward lane one. Maybe the grass (or at least the grass roots) is greener inside the oval. Coincidentally, I am also in lane six, but I try to avoid squishing Ishmael. I'm beginning the final five miles of my long run here at the track. Will I be able to finish up before Ishmael does? Will I be able to finish up at all?

Despite great weather and an excellent start with running partners Michelle Kelly-Daum, Chadwick Sunday, and Otis, the quality of this run had deteriorated quickly. After a whole lot of back-and-forth running at Lake Medina, my mile splits were getting worse and worse. By the time I was at mile thirteen (my friends were done and long-gone), I'd begun to question my sanity. Not that there was much worth questioning. What would a sane runner do? Probably quit. What did I do? Drive over to the track to finish the run there, of course.

Why the track? I wish I could say. For some reason, when a long run is going particularly poorly, sometimes switching to a track can help. I wish I knew what that reason was. And I also wish I could say why this strategy works sometimes and not others.

Thankfully, it does work today. I manage to run each mile a little bit faster. I note Ishmael's progress each time I go by. After some initial progress, he seems to be floundering. I guess I will be able to finish before he does. As I begin my final mile, I decide that as I complete the run, I'll pick Ishmael up and place him back on the grass. I'm sure he will appreciate the gesture. I'd do it now, but I don't want to stop; mile 18 will be the fastest, and you don't run a fast mile if you stop to pick up worms.

I come around for my penultimate lap, and what do I see? Mrs. Robin is standing on the track, munching away at Ishmael. She hops away a little as I go by. Ishmael is in her mouth. It appears to be Mrs. Robin's lucky day. Ishmael's, not so much. As I finish my final lap, both Mrs. Robin and Ishmael are gone without a trace.

My desperate strategy worked. Although Saturday's run was much better overall, I finished today's run, and I finished it well. Ishmael's day could have been better.

~ Eighteen ~

A long time ago, I read a running article that informed me that 18 miles was a long run. Not 10, not 15, not 20 or 24. I can't remember why the author landed on that exact number. I think it was something about running for about three hours and also around 30 kilometers. A point was made that runners, especially those training for marathons, simply do not need anything further. 

I took the message to heart. Prior to that, my long runs were 20 miles or longer. 19.4 miles? Not a long run. 20.1 miles? Long run. But afterward, I only needed to get up to 18. Now, 18 is my standard long distance, and I do these runs weekly, almost year-round. At the end of a marathon training cycle, I do increase my long run distance a little.

Such was the case today. I was at Chippewa Lake, and I wanted a 20. Could I manage to do it? And how would I feel for those final few miles? It would be a good test.

Guess what? I passed. It took a lot of help from my friends. But I got 21 in, and the last few were decently fast. 

Julie, Kate, Sharon, Harold, Dan, Debbie, Laura, Kelly

Upswing

I hesitate to say that I'm on the upswing. That's due to the possible jinx effect of saying anything positive or hopeful about oneself. Maybe I'll temper the enthusiasm a little by simply saying that I'm doing a little better these days. Better than what, you ask? Dealer's choice; take your pick. If thumbscrews are applied, I suppose I might say I'm running my best so far this year. Yet I still have a way to go before I approach my best running of last, or previous years.

Today's slow speedwork is excusable. After Sunday's Half, I didn't expect much. And guess what? Much didn't happen. And I'm okay with that.

Run for Home Half-Marathon Race Report

It's pretty easy to exceed expectations when you don't have any. I tried hard not to put too much pressure on myself for this first real race of the year. The actual first one was yesterday's 5K. That one didn't go so well. This one was better. 1:52:37 for first (of two) in my ancient age group. This race was:

1) Farther away than I thought - about an hour and twenty minutes. I've done it before, but it didn't seem so far away then. Perhaps the Earth is getting bigger.

2) More fun than I thought. I unexpectedly met up with several friends before, during, and after the race. It was cool to finish on a track in a stadium.

3) Faster than I thought. Of course, when I ran it ten to fifteen years ago, it was faster still, but 1:52 is an okay, even a pretty-good time for me. The splits were even, and this is about where I was for much of 2025. I still need to improve more, but I'll take this one for now.

4) Good to get under my belt. Now, I'll be off to bigger and better things.

Debbie Hopkins Memorial 5K Run Race Report

In case I've never mentioned this before, I'll say it here: I hate 5Ks. That's why I'm signing up for more of them. You know my theory: whatever you hate doing the most is what you need to do more of. I'm referring to training and running (it's especially true for speedwork), but the axiom may indeed also apply to other aspects of life.

The Debbie Hopkins Memorial 5K Run is part of the Hermes Road Race Series that I've now joined. Although there are other distances, there will be a bunch of 5Ks, of which this is the first (for me). It's here in Brunswick, so that's a plus.

Good thing my expectations were low. I definitely hit a low during the first quarter-mile - huffing and puffing like I was gonna die. I didn't. But almost. The first mile was in the 8:40s, and the second was even slower. I finally felt a little better in the third and picked it up a bit. My overall time was 27:14. I won my age group.

Age groups and expectations aside, that's pretty darn slow. I ought to be able to run my half-marathons at a faster pace. I have a long way to go.

Dan takes off

They are running the second of two 6.55-mile loops of the Brunswick Marathon course. Dan checks that everyone is doing okay, then announces he will speed up for the final two miles. Dan (the other one) tries hard to keep up, but all he can do is follow in Dan's footsteps. By the time he's going up the hill at Brunswick Lake, Dan is already on the bridge and about to finish.

Of course, the first Dan (the faster one) is Dan Stock, aka Purple Dan. The other Dan is the author of this post. He's the one who is speed-challenged. Yet it wasn't too terrible a day for him. He is slowly (very slowly) regaining his running form. 

There is still a long way to go. With several races now looming (he just signed up for a bunch) we'll see how well he can race himself back into shape. 

The Final Exam is Looming

Julie Boggs, Sharon Emmert, Shannon Barnes, Dan Horvath. Photo credit: Julie

You know the nightmare. You've reached the end of the term, and the final exam is just around the corner. Then it dawns on you that you haven't studied, done any homework, or even attended any classes since the semester began. How the heck are you going to take a final exam on a subject that you know absolutely nothing about?

The Cleveland Marathon is just around the corner (well, it's a month and a half away, so I still have a bit of time), and I haven't run anything of substance (read: quality) since the year began. Today wouldn't count for much, either. Maybe something, though. Two Hinckley loops are not nothing.

Indeed. It wasn't especially pretty. Thank goodness my friends were there to help me through it: Laura Hutson on the first loop, then Sharon Emmert and Shannon Barnes for the second. And reliable Julie Boggs for both loops. Not pretty, yet pretty good.  Nice to have this behind me now. But of course, next week starts the big push.