Twenty-Four Hours, Minute by Minute

This is an article that I wrote for the July/August issue of Marathon & Beyond Magazine. It's about the NorthCoast 24-Hour Endurance Run of 2014. It's also one of my all-time favorite articles.

MARATHON & BEYOND l July/August 2015

Twenty-Four Hours, Minute by Minute

A race director’s job is never done.

BY DAN HORVATH

Saturday, September 20, 2014

6:25 a.m.

“You mean they’re really going to run for 24 hours?” Reluctant Race Director Dan (RRD for short, because RRDD has too many letters) patiently answers yes, they will. RRD has had to answer this one, as well as the inevitable follow-ups, like how do they manage to eat and use the restroom, many times before. He understands that a 24-hour race seems unusual, perhaps even extreme, to those unfamiliar with the format.

This time the inquirer is Tiffany Tarpley of WKYC Channel 3, the NBC affiliate in Cleveland, Ohio. The camera isn’t rolling yet. Tiffany is merely trying to get some talking points in order to introduce the event and the location from which she will be breaking in during the Saturday-morning news show. After also explaining that the runners may stop whenever they want for any reason but the top finishers will stop very little, RRD also volunteers to introduce some participants who may be of interest. He’s thinking of Dr. Andrew Lovy and Leo Lightner, among others. Tiffany says that she would like to interview them, as well as RRD himself, during their on-air moments, which will be at roughly 6:30 a.m. and then every half hour from 8:30 to 10:00.

RRD is excited about all this, not because he wants the fame and fortune of being interviewed on live TV but because he has been trying, often unsuccessfully, to get more local recognition of the NorthCoast 24-Hour Endurance Run (NC24) since its inception. This is the first time there has been television coverage, and RRD believes it will help the event enormously. NC24 surely ought to get more exposure; it’s the national championship, after all.

RRD notices that Tiffany is now broadcasting live, telling her audience that WKYC is here at Cleveland’s Edgewater Park for the NorthCoast 24-Hour Endurance Run. She explains that it’s the USA Track and Field National Championship.

NC24 tent city and Edgewater Park in the foreground, with the Cleveland Skyline in the background. (Greg Murray)

Good job, Tiffany, thinks RRD as he proceeds to help unload the supply truck, which has only just arrived.

7:25 a.m.

“Check-in is open.” RRD makes the announcement and thinks: Five minutes early. We’ve exceeded expectations once again. The first couple of runners wander up to get their packets. Volunteers Michelle Wolff, Nancy Danisek, and others handle this with friendly efficiency.

Elsewhere, Scott Stuetzer and Kenny Welch seem to be everywhere at once: unloading the truck, setting up tables, erecting three tents—one for the aid station and one each for the podiatrists and the medical crew. NC24 and its participants are quite fortunate to have Dr. Kathy Siesel, DPM, along with her podiatry students; Dr. Scott Haggerty, chiropractor; Matt Stevens, physical therapist from Elite Health and Wellness; and Dr. Andrew Lovy, DO; along with his medical crew of doctors, fellows, residents, and students from A. T. Still University in Kirksville, Missouri. Every year, Dr. Lovy arranges for his team to come up to NC24, and the race organization can never thank him enough.

Roy Heger had rented and driven the truck and was now getting breakfast somewhere. Besides serving on the race committee since NC24’s inception, he has also run the race each year. It’s the same with Frank Dwyer; he manages the race’s finances and registration and also runs it every year.

Shannon Fisher, Jan Roe, and Crystal Friend are organizing supplies and getting the kitchen area in the shelter ready. These three will be around for the entire 24 hours. Shannon is another individual who has helped organize NC24 since its beginnings. Barb Clutter wrangles all of the volunteers and will also be here for the entire time. She is at the moment helping to set up the aid station. Most of us organizers and volunteers are members of the Medina County Road Runners, the NC24 host club.

Speaking of beginnings, NC24 was conceived in 2008 when RRD had a conversation with local ultrarunning legend Connie Gardner. Connie was relating her story about being denied the American 24-hour record due to a measurement error at a race in Texas. RRD mentioned that he would like to run another one himself as well, and one or both of them exclaimed, “We should have one here!”

RRD reluctantly became the race director for the first running of NC24 in 2009. Even though other folks were involved as well, no one else wanted such an exalted position. RRD likes to say that when people were asked to volunteer, everyone else took a step back. He has been around ever since. Although he has run other ultras, he has never run NC24 himself. Don’t feel too sorry for him, though. He’s had his chances.

The sun is beginning to rise above the downtown Cleveland skyline. Edgewater Park is a spectacular location. The skyline is to the east, beyond the marina; the lake is to the north (hence the name NorthCoast); and the adjacent beach stretches out to the west. There had been talk about choosing a different location, and RRD listened and tried to keep an open mind, but eventually he had to chime in. Yes, there may be other good locations, but nothing is as awesome as Edgewater.

8:00 a.m.

“Sorry, but we have to leave to cover a breaking news story. The man arrested for the rape of the female runner is about to be charged in court.” The rape had occurred not too far from Edgewater Park. Tiffany Tarpley also informs RRD that some of the taped interviews with runners would be on the noon or 6:00 p.m. news. The interviewees turn out to be Blondell Hinton and “Fast” Eddie Rousseau, excellent choices, both. Fast Eddie had just celebrated his 75th birthday the day before. RRD manages to take the sudden loss of media coverage in stride; easy come, easy go in the fame and fortune department.

RRD continues to greet runners as they show up to check in. Here come Newton Baker, Lynn Newton, and Rosie Evans. Ultrarunners are a close-knit community. RRD sees some of these folks only once a year, and yet he considers them close friends.

8:45 a.m.

“NC24 could not exist without our volunteers. Make sure you stop and hug them as you run by. In fact, give them a kiss. In fact . . .” RRD trails off, afraid he will say something inappropriate. There will be plenty of time for inappropriate remarks as he begins to become sleep deprived. The runners give the volunteers a round of applause, and RRD introduces Charles Moman. Charles ran NC24 in 2013, was badly injured in a terrible auto accident, and was miraculously here to run again. Charles sings the national anthem, and the runners and volunteers join in.

9:01 a.m.

“C’mon, get going! You think we got all day? … Oh, maybe we do,” yells RRD to the back-of-the-pack crowd as the runners slowly shuffle past the start line. He says something to this effect every year, and he thinks he’s funny. The runners, intent on getting going, merely put up with him.

As RRD sounded the starting horn a minute ago, a few runners took off like bats out of hell. But some of these folks in the back will also run quite well. A couple of years ago, Roy Heger walked the first three laps and then proceeded to run the rest of the day and night, for a total of 108 miles.

RRD (center) kibitzing and schmoosing just after the start. (John McCarroll)

10:00 a.m.

“Harvey’s doing 7:30 miles,” says Charles Elkins. Charles has run NC24 several times, but now he is our timer. A couple of years ago, he thoroughly researched the best timing system for this type of event and then bought one. He then proceeded to work with software developers to ensure that the data—seen in the real-time display of each lap and total mileage as the runners cross the mat, the leader board, the interface with the online tracking, and the reports—all does what it’s supposed to do. Charles also serves on the race committee and helps with several other aspects of the race preparation.

“You mean 7:30 laps,” RRD says knowingly. A 7:30-per-lap pace would equate to 8:33 miles, still fast, but not suicidal. No one in his right mind would be doing 7:30 miles an hour into a 24-hour run. “No, he’s doing 6:45 laps,” corrects Charles, who really ought to know. “That works out to be 7:30 miles.”

Harvey Lewis had asked whether we had missed one of his laps as he ran by. RRD dutifully checks each such query out with Charles. Charles’s equipment has almost never missed a lap, and it hasn’t in this case either. RRD informs Harvey as he comes by a couple of minutes later.

Harvey won NC24 in 2013 with 150.5 miles. He also won the Badwater 135 earlier this year. He’s a big promoter of NC24, bringing a large entourage of runners, crew, family, and friends up from Cincinnati. He even spoke at the Friday dinner last night. Everyone admires him, including the other runners, RRD, and the NC24 Race Committee.

11:25 a.m.

“Harvey just ran a 3:20-something marathon. He probably qualified for Boston,” observes Charles. RRD just shakes his head.

It’s getting quite warm. Frank Dwyer has been running shirtless since the start, but he would be doing that even if it were 40. Today’s high is supposed to reach 79 degrees, and with the sun beating down, it feels that warm already. The adjacent beach is becoming fairly crowded already—unusual activity for late September in Cleveland.

RRD is beginning to have enough time to pick out and cheer on some of the individual runners. Here comes Jameelah Abdul-Rahim Mujaahid, dressed every bit as fancy as her wonderful name. A minute later, RRD says hi to Harold Dravenstott, a fellow club member who has been an enthusiastic supporter of the race. And speaking of enthusiasm, here’s another big cheer for Angela Demchuck, who is well known by all. Angela is wearing a tiara and a huge smile.

1:00 p.m.

“A Shop-Vac will suck ’em all right up,” says volunteer Keith Johnston. “I do it at home all the time.” RRD asks some volunteers to run over to the Home Depot to buy one. The yellow jackets are driving the volunteers at the aid station completely crazy, and RRD is willing to try anything. Up till now the best strategy seems to be the one that Jack McDaniel came up with: the bottom third of a two-liter soda bottle filled mostly with Mountain Dew and a little oil. Jack has been shooing the bugs into the concoction, and they can’t swim out.

A year or two ago, a yellow jacket stung runner Larry Orwin on the lip as he took a drink. His wife told RRD that he took on a distinct Angelina Jolie appearance until the swelling subsided.

1:50 p.m.

“Let me try it.” Jack and RRD are not having much luck with the Shop-Vac. The bugs just seem to fly away when the hose is presented to them. Keith grabs it and eventually gets one. “See? It works,” he says proudly. RRD replies, “Great. You can keep at it,” thinking that at a minute or two per bug, it’ll take Keith a long time to get them all.

2:35 p.m.

“I almost forgot about the 24 hours of yoga.” RRD had decided to take a walk around through tent city, where he came upon Darla Sedlacek and the NC24 Warrior Heart Yoga (NC24WHY) group. This group would be going at it for the entire 24 hours alongside the runners, who were also invited to stop and participate at any time.

3:30 p.m.

“We’re only a little over six hours in, and we’ve gone through half the water in this heat,” says Shannon Fisher. She goes on, “On the other hand, the runners will stop drinking so much and there won’t be as many of them as the night approaches.” The impromptu meeting includes Scott Stuetzer, Kenny Welch, and Charles Elkins, who towed the couple of hundred gallons of water in a trailer.

Edgewater Park Pavilion, along with the NC24 aid station and the timing hummer. (Dan Horvath)

RRD doesn’t really want to have a lot left over, but running out in the middle of the night when stores aren’t open would be much worse. Kenny and Scott make a water run.

5:30 p.m.

“Harvey thinks he may have missed a lap when he stepped off the course to puke,” says one of his crew members. RRD excuses himself from his conversation with Howard Nippert to check Harvey’s lap count with Charles. Others had been checking their counts as well. The lap total (and therefore the actual distance) never matches one’s GPS distance, and this always seems disconcerting to some runners, especially those unfamiliar with the format.

Howard is the USATF liaison. The national-championship designation is important for NC24 because it helps the race attract some of the best ultramarathon talent in the country, and even that of other countries. USATF runners who place well and also post a large number of miles may be chosen to represent the United States on the national team at the 24-Hour World Championships. So the competition is keen. Jean Pommier and Isaiah Janzen are now tied for the lead.

Charles says that although Harvey did have some slower laps, none were missed. Puking, it seems, takes time.

6:00 p.m.

“He hasn’t peed in 10 hours; it may be renal failure. I recommend that you call EMS,” states Dr. Lovy. RRD does so immediately. If Dr. Lovy had recommended that RRD stand on his head, he would do so immediately. The runner is near his tent and is wrapped in a blanket. Dr. Lovy, one of his student interns, and RRD stand by until EMS arrives.

6:30 p.m.

“I’m going in, and I’m taking it all off, baby!” yells Tim Arendt, as he sprints away from the aid station, across the beach, and toward the lake, shedding articles of clothing as he goes. His wife, Debi, rolls her eyes. Barb Clutter and RRD avert theirs, laughing as they do. Debi explains that she and Tim would try to get a decent night’s sleep and then come back early in the morning for more. Tim is still yelling as he returns, wet but seemingly refreshed. He has some of his clothes on at this point.

8:05 p.m.

“Take some to the ranger,” says RRD. About a million pizzas had just arrived, and RRD had promised the ranger some. “I’m on it,” says Kenny Welch. RRD thanks him as he leaves and wonders not for the first time where we would be without him.

The park rangers direct pedestrian and automobile traffic at the one place where there is a slight danger: the point where the all-purpose trail crosses the driveway to the parking lot. These folks are invariably friendly and helpful, and the runners love them. So does RRD.

This year park employees have erected a huge and extremely bright lighting apparatus at the crossing. It’s almost like daylight over there.

8:50 p.m.

“We think Jeannie has the record!” Jeannie McDaniel’s crew member is ecstatic as RRD informs him that he will happily submit the USATF paperwork for the potential 12-hour women’s 65–69 age-group record.

He reminds Charles Elkins to take a 12-hour snapshot of the standings. Charles says that it’s not truly necessary, since he can go through the data at any point in time, but that he will nevertheless provide a printout at 9:00 p.m.

10:10 p.m.

“Isn’t Angela doing a little too good?” asks RRD. Angela Demchuck may have slowed down a bit, and she’s taken a few breaks, but she remains as ebullient as ever. Even so, the kid’s only 13 years old, he thinks. Her mom, Felicia Fago, agrees. “I think we may need to stop her for the evening,” she answers. “She’s got only two laps to go before she hits 50 miles, but I’ll let her know now that after that she will have to stop.” Felicia goes on, “I’ve talked to Dr. Lovy and his crew, and they told me that as long as she’s not hurting or sick in any way, it won’t hurt her to keep going. But even so, I want her to get a decent night’s sleep.”

Everyone in the running club loves Angela, and now everyone in the race does as well; she seems to have become best friends with every other runner. And she still garners the most cheers each time she comes by. Felicia had given her the NC24 entry as a Christmas present, and she said it was the best present any kid could have ever gotten. And now she is proving herself right by having the time of her life out there.

Angela Demchuck appears to be enjoying herself immensely in the race. (John McCarroll)

She isn’t disappointed when her mom asks her to wrap it up at 50 for the night. She had never run more than 13 before, so 50 is pretty darn good.

RRD is as thoroughly impressed and enchanted as everyone else. He figures that Angela most likely won’t be running any more in the morning. Most mortals, once they lie down, don’t come back for more, even when they have the time to do a few more laps in the morning. For most mortals, 50 would be plenty.

Sunday, September 21, 2014

12:00 a.m.

“She’s a Harvard physicist, and she took eight years off to raise kids. Now she’s back to ultras.” That last bit is somewhat of an understatement. Jenny Hoffman had taken the lead fairly early in the race, and she is not letting up. RRD met Jenny at the Friday dinner but at the time thought she was just another nervous runner trying to make a comeback.

2:00 a.m.

“Keep smiling!” RRD yells this, not for the first time, as Blondell Hinton and others go by. Blondie, like many of the other runners out there, just seems to smile the entire time. A few have determined looks on their faces too, but almost everyone smiles when RRD shouts at them to do so.

3:41 a.m.

“I’m sticking to him like glue!” Technically, pacing is not allowed; but it is permissible to stay with or follow a runner for safety reasons. Kenny Welch is doing this for Leo Lightner. Leo is 87, and he almost didn’t make it this year due to health problems. Here at NC24, he has set national and world age-group records, including 81 miles when he was 81 years old and just over 100K last year at 86.

This year we are all happy just to have him out there at all.

But he’s not just out there, he’s actually doing quite well, finishing his 38th lap for 34 miles at this point.

4:00 a.m.

“He wanted his urine tested. I told him we have no way to test urine but to wait for a moment for us to examine him. But he just left.” One of the medical people was referring to Jean Pommier, who is now back out on the course. The aid-station folks also inform RRD that Jean didn’t look too good as he ventured out into the darkness.

RRD isn’t sure he could catch Jean from behind so he took off in the opposite direction to try to find him. He does find the runner about halfway around, walking fairly slowly. RRD accompanies him back. It is beginning to rain.

4:16 a.m.

“I need to change first,” Jean tells RRD as they arrive back in the pouring rain. “Just get yourself into that medical tent—I insist,” says RRD. He doesn’t usually come on this strong, but it seems like the right thing to do right now. The runner has been shivering and does go over into the tent.

5:37 a.m.

“John Hnat is a beast.” RRD couldn’t agree more with whichever volunteer made the observation. RRD’s sleep-deprived brain isn’t working quite well enough to tell who said it, but he doesn’t miss John as he passes by. John was a director of NC24 one year and is always a positive force for the event. He’s also one of the biggest, tallest guys out there and is approaching the 90-mile mark. If that doesn’t qualify for beastliness, nothing does.

“Jenny Hoffman is a beast too,” observes RRD as she passes by as well. She does not have a large frame, but she does seem to keep going and going with a very determined look on her face. RRD doesn’t think anything will stop her.

The rain has subsided. It had been coming down fairly hard for a while. Most of the runners didn’t seem to mind, although the volunteers had to scramble a bit to keep the food covered and also to keep stuff from blowing away.

6:48 a.m.

“Go Angela!” Much to the excitement of everyone, Angela Demchuck is back out there, adding to her previous night’s mileage. Her smile is as big as ever. Tim Arendt is back out again as well. He appears, so far, to be staying out of the lake today.

The early-morning darkness is wearing away, and so are last night’s rain clouds. It’s going to be bright and sunny again today.

8:00 a.m.

“Go, Isaiah!” By now everyone knows who Isaiah Janzen is. With only an hour to go, he has a very comfortable lead. Harvey Lewis, running hard to stay in second place, also encourages Isaiah and the other top runners. Things are closer for the women. Jenny Hoffman is in the lead, but if she were to stop and second-place runner Eileen Torres were to pick it up, things could change.

8:35 a.m.

“Hold on to the block, and drop it when the horn blows.” Volunteers Veronica Dancer and Debbie Horvath are handing out blocks with numbers corresponding to the runners’ bibs. This will give them credit for a partial lap as the time expires.

Meanwhile, RRD is announcing names of the runners as they go by. Several are just now achieving their goal of 100 miles or other milestones. This generates much excitement from the spectators.

Time seemed to be going by slowly during the middle of the night, but now it’s just whizzing by.

9:02 a.m.

“Let’s roll.” Two minutes after the end-of-race signal, RRD leads a small team of block collectors. They begin to traverse the course, picking up the numbered blocks dropped by the runners, carefully noting the number of measured 100-yard segments for each one that they pick up.

9:35 a.m.

“I started entering the extra lap segments for some of the top men, but it was taking too long, so now I’m just making sure that we have everyone’s placement correct. I’ll enter the rest of the lap segments later,” explains Charles Elkins. He’s in a hurry to get the awards going, as are RRD and most of the runners and crew members. For some reason, everyone and their brother want to hit the sack ASAP.

9:45 a.m.

“We’re ready to begin the awards,” announces RRD. The runners are finishing up the excellent breakfast that was made for them by the Boy Scout troop. The scouts really did do a fine job, but at this point fried worms probably would have tasted good to most of the runners. The awards proceed as well as they can, considering Charles’s and RRD’s sleep deprivation. Howard Nippert helps as well.

Isaiah Janzen had finished with an amazing total of 154 miles. He is in the medical tent, and Howard makes a special delivery of his award. Jenny Hoffman is in the pavilion, surrounded by a blanket and several other runners. She finished with an equally amazing 127 miles. Most of the second- and third-place finishers are around. They are Harvey Lewis and Jean Pommier for the men and Eileen Torres and Debra Horn for the women.

Debra has been on the national team several times, and RRD had hardly noticed her running, much less her excellent podium finish. But she does have a way of sneaking up on people, as she did this day.

10:10 a.m.

“Is anyone driving toward Chicago or other points west?” RRD may have announced this question just a little too late. Most runners were already on the road. According to Dr. Lovy, Isaiah Janzen is dehydrated but doesn’t need hospitalization, only rest. “But he shouldn’t drive,” he had added. This is unfortunate, since Isaiah had been planning to drive home to Iowa after the run. He is alone here with no crew. Now he can’t drive anywhere.

“I can get you and your car to a local hotel for the night,” says RRD, “but we have to finish packing everything up first.” Isaiah, sitting at a picnic table and wrapped in a blanket, indicates that he’s fine with waiting.

11:35 a.m.

“We’re finally ready to go.” Packing up the truck and cleaning up had taken longer than hoped, but with only a few tired volunteers around, it’s really about as expected. It’s a good thing Scott Stuetzer got at least some sleep. We couldn’t do any of this without him.

RRD drives Isaiah’s car and Isaiah himself to the Holiday Inn, helps him check in, and helps him up to his room. Isaiah promises to call RRD and Debbie when he arrives home tomorrow.

It’s time to get to bed. Good night.

Aftermath

“That was more than 24 hours, you know.” Yes, some astute readers will have made such an observation. It takes about three hours to set up for the race and another three to take everything down and clean up. And of course this is not to mention the months of preparation and planning that go into an event such as NC24.

Much to the chagrin of RRD and Charles Elkins, the paper containing those final lap segments was lost before the information could be entered. Charles and RRD had handed it back and forth several times as the results were being tabulated, and afterward, each thought the other one had it. After a week of scrambling to try to find it, the search had to be abandoned. RRD sent an apologetic letter to the runners to inform them that for the small number who ventured out for a final partial lap, some of the information was lost. He assured them that none of the placing was affected. The vast majority of the runners were understanding and supportive.

In fact, the runners continue to relate their positive experiences regarding the race to each other, as well as the race organization and volunteers. That feedback makes RRD think that he may (reluctantly) stay on and direct the race for one more year.

Is Today the Day?

The last time I missed a day of running was April 2, 2020. Today would be the day this streak ends. Or would it? Some considerations:

The coffee didn't work. I've had other days where that's the case, but I still managed to run those times. Today I feel particularly uncaffeinated.

It's cold outside. I know. I could do the mill. But I did that yesterday, and once consecutive mill-day is enough. Nope, it's outside or nuthin.

It's snowy outside. See the response on the line above.

I just don't wanna run. Now that's a little new. The 'ole motivation has been on the low side for the past month or two. But I don't know whether it's actually been this bad. Ever.

.....

In spite of it all, I don my Gore-Tex, my several other layers, my hat and gloves, my trail shoes, etc. and I waddle out for a couple awful miles in the snow and the cold.

The streak lives. For another day, at least.

Aren't you afraid your lungs will freeze?

This one ranks right up there with, "I get tired just driving that far!" and, "Your knees will wear out!" The come-back, of course, is, "That might happen, but there are plenty of other body parts that will freeze first." By this, I'm considering the ones protected by the two pairs of undies with the extra insulation in the front.

6F. Been a while since it was this cold for one of my runs. The most recent one I can remember is the 2018 Landis Loonies Marathon, where it was in the neighborhood of 3F, with a godawful wind chill. I'm happy to report that there was no wind this morning. In fact, I saw the moon and stars for a change.

I could have stayed on the mill. I did yesterday, to the tune of 19 miles, and I've been doing so for roughly half of my runs this winter. But today, I was going out no matter what. I get that attitude after a couple consecutive mill days.

It wasn't a particularly great run. But it was better than the alternative. Best of all, it's done.

My Left Appendage

There was a movie called, My Left Foot, about a guy who had cerebral palsy and could move only his left foot and yet became a painter, poet, and author. I had a similar disability during today's run, but with my left hand. Well, okay, maybe it wasn't so similar. In fact, I could move everything except my left hand. The problem was that my left hand became so cold that I lost all feeling in it. This is not completely unusual for me on such a cold day, but today it was particularly bad. I think the problem was that my watch was on too tight. I'll have to "watch" this in the future.

Regardless of my hand's functionality, today's run was yet another lousy one; yet another failure to launch. I ran 12 miles in the time it should have taken to do 18. And I felt like I had done 28. This, and all the other recent poor running led to a decision: I had to let Coach Sven go. It was sad, but he was just not getting the job done. (The job, of course, has been to get me to become a good runner.)

I know. I liked him too. Sven and I go way back. I hope that we will remain good friends. At least as much as possible. It's tough when one of said friends happens to be invisible. And who knows? Maybe I will hire him back someday.

Coach Sven Report: No Long Run for Dan

Hi, Sven here. Dan did not complete a long run during the past week, and that's the first time in a while. I am slightly concerned.

The problem is, he spends too much time on the treadmill, which acts as a crutch for him. If it's just the least bit cold or snowy (like every single day), Dan can easily talk himself out of going outside at all. His nice, warm mill beckons. Sometimes, he goes as far as to get himself all dressed out to go out the door, but still doesn't make it, changing his mind and heading down to the basement at the last minute.

He does get out occasionally, however. Like today's easy run (aren't they all easy these days?), and Friday's eleven-miler. But Friday's run was going to be long, and eleven was a slight disappointment. So was yesterday's second consecutive long-run attempt, this time on the mill. 

Oh well. Next week is another week. Maybe Dan will get his butt moving better. Hope springs eternal.

The Coach Sven Report, January, 2021

Hello, Invisible Coach Sven here. Dan has mentioned me in this blog from time to time, but now I'm taking it over. Oh, I'll give it back to Dan someday. Maybe.

I should mention that I'm growing concerned about Dan. Yes, of course he's old and getting older. And yes, of course that old age means he's running slower than ever. But what worries me most is his utter lack of motivation. This appears to be a new problem. I am working on it, but it's tough out there. 

Here are some notes from a conversation I had on a recent run on the Lester Rail Trail with Dan.

~

Yes, I know it's a long run, but you're moving pretty slow, old friend.

I know. Of course, I'm faster than you. I always have been. But that's not saying much these days. It doesn't matter anyhow, because I'm the coach and you are my charge. Our goal is to get YOU to run faster, better, and stronger.

Don't tell me to do that. Especially not with my dear mother. Now, you don't need to run all that fast today. Just try to keep a steady pace for all 18 miles.

You shouldn't say things like that about my family. Even though you're getting tired, try to keep the pace up.

You want to what to my face? Please, just concentrate on your run. You are slowing down way too much, and your form has gone to sh!t.

Ouch! Hey, if you attack me further, I will quit being your coach.

No, wait. I didn't really mean it. I will still be your coach no matter what.

Ouch! Stop that now! Okay, only a few miles to go. Stop shuffling like that, Try to be mindful of your form.

Ouch!

The Old Man and the EEEEEEE!

Invisible Coach Sven is reasonably happy with his charge, Dan. Dan's mileage is back to seventy-ish per week. Some of his recent runs aren't too awful. Best of all, today Dan is back at the track for the second week in a row.

Coach Sven has Dan doing 5 x 1600 today. It doesn't have to be a super-fast or otherwise superb workout today; just solid and consistent. Most of all, says Sven, it should be sustainable and something to build on. Sustainable can mean a lot of different things, including the ability to run again tomorrow, the ability to keep the mileage up, and the ability to continue to do speedwork such as this each week or so. That entails remaining (mostly) injury-free. 

Dan does okay for his first three 1600s. He's happy to start number four, because now he can start using the mantra, only one to go (after this one). The goosepoop that was such a problem during last week's run is less so today. It's a week older and more frozen this time. Even so, Dan dances around it, trying to keep his shoes clean. Two laps down, thinks Dan, and only two to go, before that last one. It's at this moment - Dan half-done with his fourth interval and Sven cheering from the stands - that it happens.

"EEEEEEE!" and then "Fudge!" yells Dan (except the word wasn't fudge). He just pulled his right calf muscle. Sven yells, "Stop now!" and Dan does. He knows it's not like Sven to get this excited, so he doesn't question the order.

Dan will now have to cut back on his training until his calf heals up. And until Sven says it's okay.

30K

Long ago, some running guru stated that 30K was the minimum distance for a long run. I don't know how or why he arrived at that exact figure, but he probably had some reason. Maybe because it takes at least two and a half hours or more for the average runner to complete. That amount of time (and now way more than that for me) does take some doing. For some reason, the whole idea stuck with me. Now, 30K is 18.6 miles, and I have conveniently truncated the 0.6-mile, such that I call any sojourn that's over 18 miles a "long run." 

Now that we have that out of the way, I can tell you that I try to do a long run every week, whether I need it or not. Of course, there are long runs and there are long runs. Today's was a long run... on the treadmill. Hey, don't judge me. It was cold outside. To make up for my inside-related wimpiness, I ran an extra quarter-mile (making it 18.25 miles) in order to get a little closer to 30K.

Someday, I'll become a real runner again.

Full On CVNP Hiking Report - First Hikes (includes a bit of running content)

Full On CVNP is a virtual event put on by Western Reserve Racing. Participants are provided information about 24 hikes in Cuyahoga Valley National Park and complete them at their own pace. When complete, all of the 115 miles of park trails will have been traversed. Here is the story of my first couple of "hikes."

After parking in Jaite (corner of Riverview and Snowville), I take the connector trail over to Snowville Road. Oh, the muck! It's unavoidable, and it's ankle-deep. Shoe-sucking deep. And there's no place else to go. After an hour or so of mucking around, I complete the 0.1-mile segment. My plan had been to go North on the Buckeye Trail (BT) for the first hike on the list. It's a 5.6-mile route, where I'd return via the Valley Trail. I take a look to the right only to see that the BT in that direction is every bit as bad as the portion I'd just muddled through.

I consider quitting completely, but hey - I've come all this way. I'd be all dressed up with no place to go. So I venture across the street and start the BT South route. I don't know that much about this one; I'd only researched the BT North route for today. But my thought was that since BT North was first on the list (the hikes can be done in any order), too many hikers have gone that way, destroying the trail and leaving 300 kilograms of mud in their wake.

There is less mud this way. But only a little less. I ascend the steep hill, and this finally gets my heart pumping. The trail on the higher ground does appear to be slightly better.

It's quiet and peaceful here in the middle of the woods. No other human beings are about. It's snowing a little. I am actually enjoying myself. After about 2.6 miles (but not before some more bad muddy areas), I emerge, tired from the hills and the mud, onto Columbia Road. There are now three choices: keep going on the BT to wind up at Boston Mills (not a good option because it would involve several more miles of muck, and then I'd still need to get back to Jaite), turn around and go back the way I came (not a good option because it just about killed me to get even this far), or turn onto Columbia and then Riverview to return to Jaite via the roads (the only viable option). Which do you think I would go with?

Jogging back, I manage to make it to the parking area, clean off my shoes a little, stumble into the car, and drive home. 

That was yesterday. I later learned that the BT South Hike was exactly what I did (except you're supposed to return on the trail instead of the road). Close enough - I get credit for hike 1! Now I'm starting out in the dark on my second hike. Except for me, it's a run, not a walk. It's on the Towpath (TP) after all.

Starting at Lock 29 in Peninsula, I go North on the TP, turn around at the Boston Store, and return the same way. Now, this is what I call fun. I love running on the TP. It's impossible to beat.

When I do return, I start immediately on hike #3. This is a run as well. It involves taking the TP South to Hunt Farm and returning the same way. This is even more fun. I was born to do this.

11 1/2 miles for the day. 3 hikes down, 21 to go. As for the rest, if they're not on the TP, I'll wait for the mud to solidify.

Buckeye Trail South - mud galore

Something of Slight Substance and the Tale of Two Tracks

One track just isn't enough for me. It's actually been about two months (since I've been to any track at all), and I'd been in danger of yet another failure to launch. But no. After seven (yes, seven) miles of warmup, I'm finally moving. I decide as I'm going that I'll do four-ish 800 repeats, rather than a 1600, a tempo trot, or anything else. I don't know why - maybe because it's about all I have time for. But another decision must be made, and fast: which lane is best?

Half the track is covered with goose poop. I hadn't noticed it earlier, because it was dark. In the meantime, I'd gone over to the Medina High School track for a few before returning here to Claggett Middle School to get serious. Also in the meantime, it's gotten light. This is taking way too long. Back to the decision: lane four seems to be the most goose poop free. I head over there for the backstretch and parts of the turns. I do this for each of the repeats.

I get my four 800s in, and it actually felt good. Maybe I can build on this. 

Maybe.

Time on my feet

For the ten-zillionth time, the coffee hasn't completely kicked in. Oh, it generally helps a little, and I'm far worse off without it. But even with it, I'm not truly with it. On this day and many others, I just can't quite get myself up to top speed.

I should add that top speed for me ain't what it used to be. It always used to help to run with my training partners, but that's something I don't do at all anymore. Going to a track or participating in a race can also do the trick. But I don't do those anymore either. No, I wouldn't consider Friday's Brunswick Marathon an actual race. It was more of a training run, at least the way I did it. A training run for survival.

Today's sojourn begins with thoughts of scouting out a new ten-mile course. I have plenty of courses, but it's sometimes fun to explore new possibilities. You would think that I know all of the streets around my Brunswick, Ohio home, and I mostly do. But sometimes there are new combinations to be had. And sometimes a run will bring me down a road that is somewhat less traveled. It's good to explore. Kind of.

But exploring when I'm this tired makes the world go by much more slowly, whilst I stumble along. I take the familiar track up Hickory Ridge, Pearl, Keller-Hanna, then circle around the high school, trying to avoid the goose poopsicles again (like on Friday), then I explore Miller Road, Miner, and Gary. I return on Oxford and through the path to Jefferson before doing a couple extra miles around the other President streets. Really, not much new or unusual at all. Except to say that my early slow pace has only gotten slower.

Yesterday's run was slower still. But I did explore more then, running on a couple roads that may have been entirely new to me. After exploring the gem streets (Emerald, Topaz, Ruby, etc.), I crossed over Substation and turned West onto Cessna and then Cheyney. These roads were quiet and they went on for a good ways; my kind of running course.

Running slow doesn't make you slow. Not running fast makes you slow. I'm guilty of both. All the exploring is just fine. But all my slow training (with no fast stuff to speak of) manifested itself in a terribly slothful marathon. Yes, time on my feet counts for something. Finishing a "race" or run is nice, but it's no substitute for running well. So now I feel the need to get moving again.

The question is, when?

2021 Brunswick Marathon

Here's the story of my 2021 Brunswick Marathon, hazard by hazard.

Hazard 1 - Cops: Curfew ends at 5:00 AM, yet I want to start earlier than that. Even though it’s unlikely that cops would bother with busting a runner, I thought they might want to question a guy pulling in and parking his car in an otherwise empty lot near Panera (which is also adjacent to Panini’s bar) this early on New Year’s Day morning. Therefore there was a change in plans. Instead of parking there, I jogged a mile from home, over to the course, where I deposited my blue bag of water, making that spot on Jefferson Street my aid station. In retrospect, I probably should have worried more about cops pulling me over for wearing tights like these. It turned out that I did see some cops on foot near the high school. (“Watch out for the ice,” they said. “Okay, thanks,” I replied.) Other cops were driving around, but there wasn't much in the way of other traffic.

Hazard 2 - Drunks: I was conscious and aware that any drivers who aren’t cops that are out so early on New Year’s Day are likely to be drunk from the night before. And so when a car went by slowly, honking and with someone yelling loudly out the window at me (this was on 303, just after I’d crossed over), I thought they were probably just out from the night before. Later, when I stopped and talked with Andy and Michelle Wolff, they asked if I saw them go by, yelling and screaming at me. So it wasn’t drunk people after all. At least, I don’t think they were in such a state just before their own run.

Hazard 3 – Other Runners: I reversed course for every one of my four 6.55-mile loops, and I managed to spot Andy and Michelle going the opposite direction several times. I also saw Larry Orwin and Pete Kostelnick a couple of times. There may have been others.

Hazard 4 – Goose Poopsicles: The road in the back of the high school was not icy this year. Except for the frozen goose turdsicles. The stuff was prolific for a third of a mile or so, and it made the dance to avoid them kind of fun. Kind of. I didn’t see all that many geese during the run, but there were deer galore. Most were around Brunswick Lake.

Hazard 5 – Ice: The weather wasn’t too bad (upper 20s), and by starting so early, I managed to beat the freezing rain that started around 10:00 AM. Although there were a couple of icy spots, most of the course was dry. Except for Hopkins Park. It was especially unsafe for that half-mile.

Hazard 6 – Slowness: This, of course, is the worst hazard of all. I started and finished slowly, but I also ran slowly during the middle of the run. It turned out that my 6.55-mile loop times were fairly consistent, but not in a good way. I think my time (4:55) is probably a personal worst. Never mind that my aid station and necessity stops probably account for thirty or so minutes of that. Even so, I’m not entirely unhappy with the run. And the best part, as they say, is that it’s over.

Returning home with my blue aid-station bag of water, after the cool-down jog from the course.
Thankfully, I wasn't pulled over by the cops for wearing tights like these. 

2020, by the numbers

2020 was a bad year in too many ways to count. But in terms of my running, it was a mixed bag. Since I'm a numbers guy, I will let the numbers tell the story.

3,895.86 - The number of miles I ran according to my running log. This number includes 198.31 walking miles that I only counted in order to achieve the mileage requirements for the Great Virtual Run Across Tennessee (GVRAT). (I actually walked a lot more than that.)

3,697.55 - The number of miles I ran, after removing the 198.31 walking miles. This is the number I will go with, just to be consistent with my previous running logging. This is the highest annual mileage total I've ever managed.

107,149.99 - Total life-to-date miles I have documented so far.

10.83 (or 10:49) - The average pace for my 2020 running miles. This is abysmally slow, but it's actually faster than my average pace in 2019. So there's that. Of course, it would be slower still if I included the walking miles in the average.

10.10 - The average number of miles I ran each day in 2020 (3697.55 / 366).

273 (and counting) - The number of days of continuous running days I did since the last time I missed a day, which was April 2, 2020. It's the most, ever; I've never been much of a streaker, believing that it is somehow good to take a day or two off each week. I'm not sure what got into me this time. Maybe blame it on GVRAT, or to no swimming due to Covid-19. 

3:49 - The time for my best marathon in 2020. I try to really go for it at one or two marathons a year. This one came at the Boston 2.0 race, and I'm pretty happy with it. I also ran a 3:59 at Tallahassee, and that wasn't bad either, considering the shape I was in. My other marathons - Brunswick, Medina Virtual, and Northern Ohio Virtual - were not so stellar. I also ran the Buckeye Woods 50K (where I was the only finisher, so I guess I won), and a few shorter races, some in Florida. GVRAT, though not really a race, was still a challenge. Covid-19 put a huge dent in my own, and everyone else's racing plans. I'll be happy to return to normal racing once the pandemic is over.

Weekly Mileage

Life-to-date mileage

Motivation, Schmotivation

Motivation is usually not a problem. I love to run, and I do it every day, no matter what. Of course, there are always good days and bad days. But in recent weeks, it's been mostly bad. So much so, that it's tough for me to get out and get going.

The lousy weather doesn't help. And so I do stay inside, on the treadmill, for a third or so of my runs.

But lookyahere. I have a marathon in two days, and I am not mentally or physically ready at all. Usually, having something like this on the calendar will be motivation enough. But not so much these days and this race.

How will I do? Stay tuned; you will definitely hear about it.

Quite a White (A Christmas Run Story)

There's a time crunch, but I've got two hours to get my usual ten miles in. Shouldn't be a problem. Should it?

The time restriction is based on the Grandkids' Christmas presents opening schedule. I certainly don't want to be late for that. Starting this early (5:00 AM) should make it all (the run and my presence for the presents) possible. But maybe I should have factored in the snow.

There's a lot of the white stuff - maybe ten inches. I begin my trudging. Early on, I spot daughter Veronica shoveling her nearby driveway. She's doing so so that we will be able to get into her driveway later. After chatting a little, I resume trudging.

It's still snowing. In fact, it's a whiteout at times. But it's also quiet and peaceful. I have the subdivision roads all to myself. I reflect on how I could have just stayed on the warm, dry treadmill this morning. But this is so much better. Even though I won't get as far. Not nearly so. I also reflect on my recent running. It hasn't been very good, but at least it's been something. Outdoor ten-milers for the past two days, plus some treadmill tens before that. I will probably need to stay on the mill for tomorrow's planned long run.

Did I mention that I'm trudging? I can barely pick my feet out of the high snow, and there are even a couple slick spots where some plowing had taken place. My planned ten becomes five, as I call it a day, and begin clearing the snow off my own driveway.

After all that, I do manage to catch the kids and their presents.

Merry Christmas to all!

C-

First Five

I had a friend who would grade all of his runs. He would mark A, B, C, etc. in his running log every time. When I asked what criteria was used to determine a grade, he answered that it was just his own subjective "feeling" about each run.

With that kind of scale in mind, today's run is starting off as a solid B. The grading is especially appropriate because this is a test. Not a Covid test, like the one I recently had, but a running test. You know the kind. To see if I will be at all able to run a marathon (the Brunswick, or 'BM') in two weeks. Such an endeavor is more in doubt than usual this time around. I am out the door (just) before four this morning. That's nearly unheard of these days, but I really do need to get some good and long runs in. And good and long runs take time - time that is best spent by starting early.

Curfew rules are that we should stay indoors between 10PM and 5AM. Since I'm in violation, I stay within my own neighborhood for these first five. The wind is very cold, but in spite of that and the early hour, I'm running okay. I'll give myself a solid B. So far.

Second Six

After a short break, I'm venturing out of the hood for a change. My standard six-mile course takes me up to and across Pearl, and east of the water towers, and back. If anything, I'm doing even better than before. I'm also pleased with the consistency. Hey, maybe I can run more than my planned 18 today. 20 is not out of the question.

Yes, perhaps it's going better than before. But not that much better. The overall grade is still a solid B. So far.

Third Seven

I'm heading out of the hood once more. Seven more will get me to 18. Then maybe I can go back out one more time for a couple more to get up to 20. Today's run is going so well, I am not going to worry too much about the numbers. 

My mile splits for the first couple miles are slower. I'm not concerned, but then they get much slower. My grade is rapidly revised down to B-, then C+, C, and finally down to C-.

I shuffle home, barely vertical. There's no way that I will be going back out. 18 will have to do.

Recap

It was a pretty good run. Until it wasn't. At least I passed the BM test, Barely.

Note to Self

Note to self: when pulling up your two pairs of undies (originally under your tights, for warmth) after a bathroom stop, ALWAYS do the inner ones first. Otherwise, the resulting entanglement will take much more time.

Enough Negativity

Of course, there's good negativity and there's bad negativity. The bad negativity is occurring during this morning's run, just as it has for the last 800 or so previous runs.

For a lot of those other ones, I couldn't even make it outside, opting instead for a slog on the dreadmill. But today, I'm out, and I should be reveling in the conditions: nice and quiet, snow (but not too much), and cold (but not too much). It ought to be simply wonderful for this run, but it's not.

I wish I knew why. I'm just not woke, despite the couple cups of coffee. Besides being tired, I'm kinda sore and beat up, even though I shouldn't be. I'd be more concerned if this feeling wasn't so normal these days. Part of it, I'm sure, is related to whatever happened to me last week (it may have been a sinus condition related to the surgery). Part of it, I'm also sure, is that I miss my running friends.

Now I'd dang well better start my training for the Brunswick Marathon.

Negative!

Remember when I had that brain scan and was relieved when the results were negative? Well, it's like that for my Covid-19 test results as well. 

It's a relief, not because I'm feeling better (of course, that helps), but mostly because I didn't want to infect anyone else - especially my family. Now I can enjoy the holidays with them.

I mention feeling better. Maybe I'll even get some measure of running mojo back. 

Some day.

Test

Took me a minute. Should have known the opposite of a Big Push would be a Small Pull, but for some reason, it wasn't coming to me. Now that it did, here's what it all means. 

Last week's Big Push did start out okay, but I faded quite badly over the weekend. Since my weekly mileage is counted from Monday through Sunday, Saturday and Sunday finish up the week. As of last Friday, things were looking pretty good. All I would need to approach 80 miles for the week was about 18 on Saturday followed by around 10 on Sunday. I can usually do that in my sleep. But as you may have guessed by now, that didn't happen in either my waking or sleeping hours. And that made it a Small Pull instead of a Big Push. Here's why.

Last Thursday I had dental implant surgery. It went just fine. That is, other than the usual feeling of being punched in the face. They also had me on penicillin. No big deal - this isn't my first rodeo. To illustrate that point, Friday's run went fine as well. I purposely cut it a bit short, just to take it easy. Saturday's planned 18 was decidedly not fine. Sunday's run was only marginally better. Here's how this happened.

Just before heading out the door for Saturday's run, I seemed to develop a sudden runny nose. I did not think anything of this until it began to affect my run. That run started slow and then got worse and worse. I barely made it to 8 miles, much less 18, as the sniffling, breathlessness, and general fatigue all conspired against me. These conditions continued to worsen as the day wore on. But it wasn't until late Saturday and early Sunday that I began to worry a little more. Here's why.

Saturday, my daughter Veronica told me that my symptoms, which I thought were due to a cold, could also possibly be from Covid-19. Sunday, I felt at least as bad, if not worse. As noted, I did get out to run Sunday morning. "Don't you always get out of breath when you run?" asked wife Debbie. "Yes," said I, "but not this much." Every attempt at putting a foot forward was met with breathlessness, fatigue, and even some muscle soreness. I did some research and analysis and made a decision. Here's what it was.

It could very well be a cold. Interestingly, when we aren't exposed to very many people due to the pandemic, we not only reduce our chances of getting Covid-19, but also a cold or the flu. So I haven't been sick for a while. But still, a cold is probably the most likely culprit. It also could be a reaction to the surgery, or (more likely) to the penicillin. Or, as I mentioned, it could be the Big One - Covid-19. Whether it's a cold or Covid, it likely came to me during that surgery. I have tried to very safely shop when needed, but that's been the only other possible source of any viral infection of any kind, assuming that's what this is. Regardless of how I may have gotten it, it would really help to know. My decision was to get a Covid-19 test. Here's how that went.

The only testing place I could find on a Sunday was the CVS Wadsworth store. I stayed in my car and used the swab according to the drive-through lady's directions. I dropped it off, and hope to hear back from CVS within three days. The results can't come soon enough. Here's why.

Of course, I'm very worried about spreading anything to my family. As of now, I'm just doing my best to stay isolated. Not to mention that my running went from abysmal to <whatever is much worse than abysmal>. I will report back when I receive the verdict.

The Big Push

You heard it here first, folks. Last week, I said, "Next week starts the Big Push." Well, it's started.

Not well. But it's started. The mileage is back up, although a lot of the miles have been on the mill. Those mill miles include a "long" 18.6-mile run the other day. I'm trying to not lose much of a step now that that's done. 

No aurora borealis this morning. They'd been forecasting that sightings were possible, but I got nuthin. At least I was outside for a change. The (finally) warmer weather helped. We will see how the rest of the weekend goes.

GYSABOT

Of course, GYSABOT stands for, Get Your Sorry @$$ Back Out There. But you knew that, didn't you?

The phrase comes into play when the conversation during the bathroom breaks goes like this:

Dan1: I'm not feeling it today. Yeah, it's only been four miles, but I think I should continue to baby myself some more.

Dan2: Only four miles so far, eh? GYSABOT!

Dan1: Hey, maybe I should hit the mill. That way I could possibly still manage to get a long run in today like I originally wanted.

Dan2: The weather isn't bad this morning. The mill is only a crutch. GYSABOT!!

Dan1: But it's so nice and warm in the house. And the mill is easier. Please?

Dan2: GYSABOT!!!

Dan1: Oh alright. 

~TIME PASSES~

During a later bathroom break...

Dan1: Hey, it's getting later in the morning. I don't like to be out for this long. Time to quit, no?

Dan2: No. GYSABOT!!!!

Dan1: But I'm running so darn slow. Can't I just quit and call it a day? Maybe I can run better and longer tomorrow.

Dan2: It's only been seven and a half miles in these couple hours. Need to get to double digits at the very least. GYSABOT!!!!!

Dan1: But two and a half more miles will kill me. Won't it?

Dan2: GYSABOT!!!!!!

Dan1: Oh alright. 

~TIME PASSES~

Ten miles is achieved. It took three hours, but a lot of that time was spent in conversations like the ones above. 

Next week starts the big push.

Next Week Starts the Big Push

You've heard it here before: Next Week Starts the Big Push.

It's especially true now. The wacky weather this week - Monday's and Tuesday's snowstorm - combined with Sunday's 50K, have resulted in one of my stinkiest running weeks in a really long time. I've been babying myself like I haven't in months and months.

But Next Week Starts the Big Push. Mostly because the Brunswick Marathon is looming.

Me and My 1986 Running Pants

It's dark, it's cold, it's windy, and it's snowing sideways. And here I am, playing in the snow. That, at least, was the original intention. Now that I'm out in it, it's not quite as much fun as anticipated.

I reckon that there are about six inches of the stuff. And it's not just regular snow. It's wet/sloppy/slushy/heavy snow. Our street has only been plowed on one side. I pick the unplowed side. I start off running with the wind, and although it's tough to pick up my feet, the conditions don't seem too awful. But then I turn the corner and begin running directly into the wind and blowing snow. And it's about this time that the footing gets worse as well.

It takes me 31 minutes and 57 seconds to cover 1.97 miles. This on a day when I was going to run the usual ten miles. BW50K is still lingering in my bones from two days ago, but I don't feel all that awful. At least I didn't at the start of the run. Now that I've done this much, I decide to call it quits and shovel the driveway.

The pants? I should begin by stating that it took nearly as long to get dressed as it did to run this morning. One of the articles of clothing that I had donned is my pair of Gore-Tex pants from 1986. They're bright silver - almost like a spacesuit. For some reason, I did not also wear the matching jacket. Had I done so, I would have looked like I was ready for a mission to Mars.

Speaking of spacesuits, in 1986, Gore-Tex was new. Or at least it seemed so with regards to running clothes that I was familiar with. I was under the impression that the material had been developed as part of NASA's efforts in space. This article does not mention the space race, so maybe I was wrong about that. Instead, it seems that the invention was more of a serendipitous accident.

In February 1986, I began working at EDS in Michigan. The company sponsored a 5-mile race at the Michigan State Fair each August, and that year our division added an incentive to increase participation: they would reimburse up to $100 for running gear to the runner who best predicted their time. 

My prediction? 32:30. Funny how I can remember something like that from 34 years ago. (It's also funny that I ran two miles in about that time today.) Without my watch, I had no idea how I was doing until I rounded the final turn. Then I was able to see the clock: 32:20. Naturally, I stopped for a brief moment. Then I sauntered in to finish with a couple seconds to spare. I wound up being the closest predictor.

To claim my prize, I shopped for the latest thing: a Gore-Tex running suit. It cost close to the $100 that I would be reimbursed. It was a decent chunk of change back then.

But just look at how long it's lasted! It will probably outlive me.

Just out of the washing machine after today's run (not me, the pants)

Buckeye Woods 50K History

 12/5/2010 4:46 -First one!

11/27/2011 4:50

11/25/2012 4:57

12/8/2013 4:45 -Fastest!

11/30/2014 5:59

11/29/2015 5:17

11/27/2016 5:49

11/26/2017 5:11

07/1/2018         6:19 -Slowest (it was 95F), also I won (was the only finisher)

11/25/2018 5:25 -I won!!

12/1/2019 N/A -Only did 25K because I had to catch a flight

11/29/2020 5:52 -I won (I think)!

The Buckeye Woods 50K is a race I started ten years ago. I am happy to report that thanks to Medina County Road Runners club volunteers and race directors, it's still going. I'm also happy to report that I am still going. 

Yesterday's low-key race wasn't my worst, but I did feel pretty lousy towards the end. I am mostly happy to report that it's over!

2020 Buckeye Woods 50K Race Report

 

My six laps. From the looks of the map, the Earth must have shifted during the run. Or may it's a tear in the space-time continuum

Lap 1 of 6: It's dark, and after a slow first couple miles around the wetlands, now that I'm in the wooded part of Buckeye Woods, I am running slower than most people walk. I'll blame my lazy gate on the darkness (the moon is setting) and the cold (27 degrees!). I should also place some blame on not wanting to trip and do a face-plant in the dark, frozen mud.

Lap 2 of 6: Things are now a little better. During the last part, I see Debbie Scheel at the turnaround area. I manage to stay ahead of her, but I know that this lead won't last.

Lap 3 of 6: My lead doesn't last. We do run together a bit, but we stay 10 feet or more apart. As we head into the woods, she gets ahead of me. That's okay. I think this is probably my fastest loop anyway.

Lap 4 of 6: I am still feeling good. The sun is shining, and it's warming up nicely. I see a few other runners out on the trails. The Medina County Road Runners Club has purposely kept this small club-only race even smaller due to concerns about the pandemic. They succeeded. The purposeful lack of organization also enabled me to start early, since there was no official start time.

Lap 5 of 6: Okay, it's starting to get real. I changed into lighter clothing, and this helped. A little. But I'm getting a bit tuckered out.

Lap 6 of 6. Well, I ran a half-way, not-too-awful marathon if you ignore those first five miles. But now it's really getting real. After the wetlands, I slow to a crawl. I'm happy to finish this loop, but that means I still have a mile to go.

Lap 7 of 6: There's a mile loop to be done. It's usually done at the start of the run, but today I saved it for last. It ought to be easy since it's paved and flat. But after 30 miles, it's tough. When I arrive back at the shelter, my watch tells me I've run 31.02 miles in 5:52. Those last few were a struggle.

Epilog: I don't know whether anyone else ran 50K today. There were a couple other runners out there when I left just before noon. It's possible that I'm first. Or possibly last. Time will tell.

proof!

After

It's Tomorrow

The Buckeye Woods 50K is tomorrow. I'm much more nervous about it than I ought to be. After all, this usually low-key event will be lower-key than ever this year thanks to Covid-19 safety concerns. We will run by ourselves, when we want, and just report our results. No big deal, right?

Probably not, but 31 miles is still a lot. I did manage to run more than that once at the 60K run for Larry Orwin's birthday. But it's still more than I'm used to. And I've certainly been eating a lot lately.

I do plan to go prepared, to start early, and to do my best. We will see.

Turkey Shoot

The morning rain has mostly ended as I go out the door to begin this Thanksgiving Day run. Mostly. And you all know about my disdain for cold rain. Any other Thanksgiving, I would either be doing some kind of Turkey Trot race, or just running with friends. Alas. I'm running alone these (pandemic) days.

The rain is light; mostly just a mist. Even that eventually ends. There's some wind, but none of this bothers me too much because it's relatively warm for this time of year. I'm running the semi-rural roads that make up this 11-mile route. It's a route I haven't done in a while. There's hardly any traffic this early on Turkey Day, and I appreciate the peace and quiet.

It's still dark as I encounter a fairly large four-legged creature in the middle of the road. Without my headlamp, I can't make out whether it's a dog or a coyote. It quietly moves off to the side of the road as I (carefully) go by. I look back to see if it's following me. It isn't. Whew.

Now it's getting light, and I hear a few gunshots. They're in the back of a house that's off the road a bit. I am shaken just a little as I wonder what they're shooting at. Hopefully not me! I do have my bright jacket on so that either makes me a good target, or perhaps something to avoid aiming at. A half-mile later, I hear more gunshots, and they sound much closer this time. Now I'm getting paranoid. I am shaken some more, and this time I stop to look around, but no one is to be seen.

It's probably hunting season. Thankfully (it is the season), this turkey survived.

Disdain for Cold Rain

I make no secret of my disdain

For running in the cold rain

But today it was merely a little cool

So perhaps I’m not so much a fool

And the run caused no more than the usual pain

Know When to Fold 'em

He said, "Son, I've made a life

Out of readin' people's faces
Knowin' what the cards were
By the way they held their eyes
So if you don't mind my sayin'
I can see you're out of aces
For a taste of your whiskey
I'll give you some advice"

So I handed him my bottle
And he drank down my last swallow
Then he bummed a cigarette
And asked me for a light
And the night got deathly quiet
And his face lost all expression
Said, "If you're gonna play the game, boy
You gotta learn to play it right

You've got to know when to hold 'em
Know when to fold 'em
Know when to walk away
And know when to run
You never count your money
When you're sittin' at the table
There'll be time enough for countin'
When the dealin's done

Sometimes I know when to run. I don't always know when to fold 'em, however. But I think I did today.

Saturday was a "good" day at Buckeye Woods. I ran two on my own, followed by five with Debbie Scheel, followed by five with Debbie and Jan Frandsen, followed by some more by myself. Although the initial twelve were fine, I don't always do so well when everyone else leaves me on my own. But this time, with six more to go to be able to call it a long run, things actually did go well. I did three loops around the wetlands, plus some more before and after to get those six. I managed to pick up the pace fairly nicely during this stretch. All's well that ends well. Where have we heard this before?

Sunday did not end so well. I got six in outside before the cold rain got to be too much for me. So I did a couple more on the mill. All in all, the miles were progressively less great. And for the third week in a row, I came close, but could not quite exceed 80 miles.

Monday's slog on the mill was also not so good. In fact, it was worse. What is it about Mondays?

This takes us to today. It's been a few weeks, but today was the day: back to the track. I thought about doing five one-mile repeats. Then I thought about six. Then two 3-mile tempo runs. Then six by one-mile again. Then five again. Miles one through five were pretty much just the right amount of effort and difficulty. I think I could have done one more. But I chose not to. Home I went, leaving something (albeit not much) on the track.

Makes me seem pretty darn smart, right? Not so fast (said the old guy who's current speedwork is like yesterday's slog). Those five did indeed take a lot out of me. It's probably a real good thing that I didn't go for six. 

This Sunday it's Buckeye Woods (the real race). Well, almost real - we're keeping it even more low-key than ever due to COVID safety concerns. It's just come and run, anytime you want. I'm still going to go for 50K. This will still be reasonably important for me, however. I will try not to fold 'em.

Alone Again

Dear Running Friends, I love running with you guys and it makes my running so much better in so many ways. But I've been thinking a lot lately about whether it's worth the risk. Admittedly, we don't know how much risk there is when you run with others, but it's safe to say that it's not zero. Since I am doing my best to reduce all covid-19 related risks, I've decided to reduce this one too. I will be running alone for a while now, at least until it seems safer to join with others once again. I hope it's not too long. I still haven't decided what to do about BW50K, but you will know when I do. Run happy.

Wednesdays

Several of us get together to run every Wednesday for a late afternoon run on the streets of Medina. I've made it to three of these in a row now, and I guess I'll keep doing it. I'm flexible, because, you know, I'm retired now.

But afternoon runs don't come easy for me. I usually do around ten miles that morning, so I arrive fairly worn out. But once we get going for that afternoon sojourn, I'm usually okay. Only just okay. We usually go five to six miles, although yesterday we did seven.

Then there's Thursday. Ugh. I can usually only manage a few lousy miles then.

And even Fridays aren't so great. But maybe tomorrow will be an exception.

Not Their Real Names

5:00 AM: 

Stevie (not her real name), Kate (not her real name), Kate's better half Cliff (not his real name), and Dan (his real name) begin their Saturday Sojourn from Buckeye Woods County Park. Stevie is turning forty years old (and now you have an idea why actual names aren't being used), so of course she wants to run forty miles today. Kate will attempt to accompany her, but Cliff and Dan will run somewhat fewer miles. Dan had tried to tell Stevie that there is no shame in kilometers (because forty kilometers would seem somewhat easier than forty miles), but Stevie adamantly insisted on making a stupid running decision (her words) to celebrate this birthday.

This Fearsome Foursome runs the first couple miles on the Inlet Trail together, then split up (boys left, girls right) at Chippewa Road. Cliff and Dan want to get back to Buckeye Woods in order to meet anyone showing up at 6:00 AM. Stevie and Kate will go longer, but will also return somewhat later. After all, their cars are there.

6:03 AM:

Cliff and Dan had hoofed it, but were still a couple minutes late. No matter; Jeff (not his real name) and Harley (his real name), Jeff's four-legged running partner also arrive at this time. They had been held up by the railroad crossing gates that were down for unknown reasons. Unless the train was invisible.

It's still dark as these four begin their five-mile run on the BW trails. This is the Buckeye Woods 50K course that will be traversed three or four times today, and dozens of times during the actual race two weeks hence. Early on, they spot an owl in a tree right above them. Good thing Jeff had a good strong headlamp.

Cliff peels off and heads back to his car. He has to go to work today. Dan, Jeff, and Harley make it back in one piece. But only barely. The two two-legged guys had managed to trip over roots multiple times. Luckily, neither had done a complete face-plant.

7:00 AM:

Jeff, Harley, and Dan are joined by Martin (not his real name) for this loop. Martin lives in the area but is relatively new to distance running (although he had done some during his earlier school years). For having only been doing this silly thing called running for six months, he is doing phenomenally well. Dan thinks, 'give him time to run with us some more - we'll slow him down and get him injured, not necessarily in that order.'

The sun is rising, and the light reveals that it's a beautiful mid-November morning. There's a heavy frost on everything, and the cold air is causing a mist to rise from the wetland part of the park. Dan thinks, 'this is actually enjoyable.' What's the matter with him?

8:00 AM:

A large crowd of runners had been expected, including the returning Stevie and Kate long-long-run duo. As it turns out, however, others backed out because of the cold (our runners actually feel fairly warm by now) and Stevie and Kate are nowhere to be found. Only Kathleen (not her real name) is there to join the guys for these next five miles.

It turns out that Kathleen and Martin are in a similar line of work, so they have much to discuss during this part of the run. After the wetlands, the now-familiar-to-all course takes these runners into the wooded part of Buckeye Woods. That's where the roots (now very familiar to Jeff, Harley, and Dan) reach out for anyone and everyone scooting by. One of them does manage to grab hold of Martin, causing him to stumble forward. Dan, who's in front, manages to turn around 270 degrees in order to catch Martin before he hits the ground. Dan thinks, 'why is there never anyone around to prevent my own face-plants?'

9:00 AM:

Martin, Dan, and Kathleen are done. Jeff and Harley keep going. Stevie and Kate are still out there someplace.

It's been a really nice morning, and a pretty darn good run. 

79.5

I ran 79.5 miles last week. That's not bad, but it was tough to do. During the summer, in the midst of GVRAT, I was cranking out this kind of weekly mileage on a very regular basis, with little trouble. Guess I have a way to go to get back there again.

The good news is that I've been able to run with some old friends again lately. It's nice to catch up.

Monday Madness: A Multitude of Marathon Maladies

My time for yesterday's two runs totaling 26.2 miles was 4:45. I think that's a personal worst time. But even if it had been a personal best, I still wouldn't be all that proud of it. For one thing, I stopped my watch in between the two runs, since I had to drive home to continue the run on the mill. Other than that, I'd been good about not stopping, even for my aid station or the long stop to change clothes. But another aspect I wasn't proud of was that it was all done on the track and the treadmill; not quite the same as a "real" marathon.  All that said, at least I got the mileage done.

What about my many maladies, you ask? Remember how I talked about my hip pointer pain and my Achilles pain and other foot pain? They're still there. But I was somehow working through my various aches and pains during yesterday's run, until the cold, driving rain hit. Then everything began to hurt more and more.

Where do I go from here? Darned if I know.

Northern Ohio Marathon (Virtual) Race Report

Editor's Note: what follows is a conversation between two virtual personalities: Practical Dan (PD) and Not-So-Practical Dan (NSPD). It should be mentioned that these two are in agreement most of the time. But when things go south, so does their relationship.

PD: It took everything we had to break twenty minutes for that last mile (number 19). NOW, are you willing to quit?

NSPD: (Says nothing)

PD: You should have listened to me when I said we ought to quit when the rain began at mile nine.

NSPD: But we were feeling good at the time. Relatively speaking.

PD: Everyone feels good at mile nine. Now, we're ten miles further, and we're definitely not feeling good.  We should at least have changed into dryer and warmer clothes at that point.

NSPD: (Says nothing)

PD: But nooooo. We had to wait until it was too late at mile 18. Way too late, I might add. So late, in fact, that it was nearly impossible to get those dry clothes on at all.

NSPD: (Says nothing)

PD: So now that we've completely crashed and burned, I'll ask again. NOW, are you willing to quit?

NSPD: Okay, okay, okay. I suppose we've let this cold rain and the general aches and pains get the better of us. Let's get to 19.2. Then we can do the other 7 on the treadmill.

PD: What? More on the mill? Are you crazy?? We can hardly even stay vertical. How the heck are we going to do even this 0.2, much less seven more?

NSPD: Look. We changed the Northern Ohio Marathon entry from in-person to virtual. Since we did that, we are pretty much obligated to at least run 26.2 miles today. Besides, more on the mill won't be so bad once we get going on it. And at least that will get us out of this miserable, cold rain. Yeah, the mill will be boring, but so is running in circles around this here track.

PD: Okay. Let's get home, and then we'll see.

NSPD: Okay.

<<An Hour and a Half Later>>

PD: Well, we did it. 26.2 miles. I knew we could.

NSPD: No you didn't. But yeah: we be done. Not something to be proud of, but done is done.