Eight is Enough

 Today's run, by the numbers:

5:15 - The approximate start time of my interval workout at Buckeye High School. It was nice and cool, and just beginning to get light.

6:00 - The approximate time that the mowers started. The BHS athletic fields include acres and acres of grass. The mowers are over, around, and through the track where I'm trying to run. It bothers me a bit, but I keep going. I suppose I bother them as well.

800 - The half-mile distance of each repeat today, and most interval workout days. You might say it's my go-to speed distance.

90 - The percentage of effort I try to give to most each repeat. You know: keep that imaginary potato chip between your thumb and first two fingers. Keep your eyelids at half-mast. Still run fast; just not all-out.  All that stuff.

90 - The percentage of each repeat that I try to give 90% of my effort. The last 10% of each one should get 100% effort. That's when I clench my teeth, allow my eyes to bulge, and dig deep.

4:17 - My average time for the 800s today. I am not proud of this, since it wasn't so long ago that I could do them around 45 seconds faster. But, like Attila the Hun says, it is what it is.

80% - The percentage of a Yasso workout that I achieved today. That is, I did 8 800s, rather than the 10 I would need to consider this a true Yasso. But since I did only 5 last week, and since I'm still on the comeback trail, I'm not unhappy about this. At least I got this far.

I'll be much happier when I can report a 100% on that last one, however.

Connie Gardner: A year in the life of an ultrarunner

This article originally appeared in the Nov/Dec 2009 issue of Marathon & Beyond. Enjoy.

Going For It

Connie was going for it. She had been on pace (about ten minutes per mile) for nearly the entire event, the 2007 Ultracentric 24-Hour US Championship in Grapevine, Texas. The conditions were certainly not conducive to a record; the daytime temperatures had been in the 80s, and there was considerable humidity. Yet she definitely had a shot. We’re talking about a shot at the American Women’s 24-hour record of 145.28 miles by Sue Ellen Trapp 14 years earlier.

For the final two frenetic hours, time seemed to stand still as she ground out mile after mile at the required pace. For the final 45 minutes, runners were moved off the 2-mile course and onto a ¼ mile course so that their distance could be monitored more closely. Then Connie heard the words she was so desperate for. Those wonderful words she heard from race officials, including the race director, was something to the effect that "You've made it - you have the record!" “I was completely exhausted, and almost completely out of time. I immediately stopped and collapsed,” she said. There had been only minutes to spare. But that's not the end of the story.

 

Gardner was happy not only to have the record but also because she could surely use that $4,000 bonus check, on top of the $4,000 she'd get for the win. But here is the rest of the story. Race officials re-measured the course and determined that it was shorter than they had originally thought. Now Connie was informed that she had run 145.26 miles - about 40 meters short of the record. The record would now stand a while longer. She wasn’t pleased.

The Ultracentric race capped off an excellent 2007 year for Gardner. In the months leading up to the event, she had won the Mohican Trail 100 Mile Run, the Buckeye Trail 50k, and the Javelina Jundred 100-mile run. She also won her age group at the Akron Marathon as well as several other events.

The “year” in the life of Connie Gardner referenced by the title of this article is 2008, but we just had to include at least this run that happened to be at the end of 2007. The year 2008 was also an extraordinary one for marathon and ultra-marathon running. Slight correction: ordinary by Connie’s; extraordinary by almost any other human standards. Besides the Ultrcentric race and the ones that followed for the next 13 months, we’ll also take a look at how Connie got to this point of being one of America’s top ultra runners, and also a bit about what makes her tick.

The most fascinating aspect of Gardner’s life and times has been her struggle. After a decade at or near the top of the ultra running world, she is still as competitive as ever. And yet, making ends meet continues to be a major effort. Regardless, it’s a safe bet that she’d be doing this even if it weren’t for the money. But the money helps. 

For over 35 years, top runners at shorter distances, up to and including the marathon, have been able to make a living through their sport. With perhaps only one or two notable exceptions, this has not been the case with ultra running. No, Connie isn’t poor, but she’s also not able to rest on her laurels. 

In more than a decade of competitive running, Connie Gardner has had many such running experiences, great, good, and a few not-so-wonderful ones. During this illustrious career, Connie has been: 

    • National 100 Mile Trail Champion

    • National 100 Mile Road Champion

    • National 100K Champion

    • National 24-hour Champion

    • USATF Ultra-Runner of the Year

    • Member of multiple USA National Ultra Teams

    • Winner of Many other Ultra Races

Some Early 2008 Marathons

On January 5, 2008, Gardner ran the competitive and hilly Mississippi Blues Marathon. With a time of 3:15, she placed 6th among women and was the first master.

A month later, she traveled to Jacksonville Beach, Florida to run the “26.2 with Donna: The National Marathon to Fight Breast Cancer” Marathon. This time she ran a minute faster at 3:14 but was only the second master. Bummer.

Only a couple weeks later, on March 1, Gardner ran the Snickers Marathon Energy Bar Marathon in Albany, Georgia. With an excellent time of 3:05, she won the masters division.

That same month, Gardner drove to southwestern Ohio to run the small, but well-regarded Ohio River Road Runners Club Marathon. Although the weather was nice, Gardner ran a bit slower than she did for her previous efforts. In spite of this, she won the overall female division with a 3:17.

There would be one more spring marathon for our prolific subject: the Rite Aid Cleveland Marathon on May 18. This, along with Akron, is Gardner’s hometown race, and she ran well: 3:09 to finish as the second female and first female master. 

Run for the Money

“Taxes were coming due, and I needed some money.” On April 12th 2008 Gardner competed in the Mad City 100k. She needed to place well in order to garner that prize money, and she did; she finished second in a time of 8:52:07. “So I did manage to get those taxes paid for the year,” said Connie. Whew.

Yes, Gardner will run for money. She will do this even in cases where she knows she won’t be at her best. This is often the case for road races, including marathons. Although definitely more oriented towards trails rather than roads, and to ultra distances rather than marathons, Gardner often finds herself competing for marathon prize money. This is not to say that she doesn’t love to run in general. If necessary, she would do it for free for sure. But it’s interesting how much a person will go through to make a living. Not to mention running for road prize money to support a trail ultra habit.

Like many of us, Gardner juggles her running life with her personal one. Hers may be a bit more hectic than some of ours, however. Most days are spent working in a running specialty store in the morning and early afternoon, followed by her work as a cross country and track coach at a nearby high school. The cross country and track coaching don’t end there, as she also coaches some individual runners from various high schools. Gardner also works part-time at a community swimming pool. Somewhere in there, she finds time to run. This time to run may occur once, twice or three times per day for up to 100 miles per week. But please excuse Connie if she happens to be late for a run or for work; there’s just a lot going on. Oh yes, and one other thing: as a single parent she raises her two teenage daughters, Abby and Gwen. 

 

She admits to being like a fish out of water in at least one area of motherhood: shopping with Gwen for a homecoming dance dress. “Had this been shopping for swimming or running equipment, or simply going out for a run or swim with my daughter, everything would have been just fine.” In this instance, she did her best, but was clearly out of her element. “I managed,” she said, “but that was enough of that.”

Gardner is stunned when she reads a paper Gwen wrote for a high school assignment. It extols her mother’s success and dedication to her sport. This extends back to Connie’s high school years where, unable to compete in any available sports, she worked to create a new cross country team. Although she was one of the slowest on the team, she simply worked hard and kept running. And this work ethic, of course, led to her eventual success at longer distances. “Connie John Gardner has proved to me that hard work is bound to pay off.” Ironically, Connie’s role as a mother of her two girls is the aspect her daughter admires most. “Connie John Gardner is the strongest person I’ve ever met, and I can only hope to be as good of a person as she has become.” She hadn’t thought that her accomplishments ever appeared on her kids’ radar screens, and was flattered to be considered a role model. “I was flabbergasted when I read it,” she says.

The State of Northeast Ohio Ultra Running

On June 21, 2008, Gardner returned to Mohican to run the 100-mile race that kicked off her extraordinary ultra career. It’s a tough one, but she finished in 19:22 – 14 minutes better than the first time, and like the first time, was the first female finisher. 

After dabbling in some road races, including a few marathons, Connie Gardner had begun her ultra career in earnest with the Mohican Trail 100-mile run in 2001. She won the race with a time of 19:36. She was a bit disappointed that two men finished ahead of her.  “I wanted to be the first overall. I wasn’t satisfied to be only the first female,” she says. Over the next few years she continued road racing, but also continued her success at trail ultras. She recorded wins at the USA 100 Mile Road Championship at Olander Park, JFK 50-Mile (twice), Umstead 100-mile endurance run, Groundhog Fall 50K, Buckeye Trail 50k, Toronto 100k, Sunmart Texas Trail Endurance Run 50-mile (twice).

Northeast Ohio is blessed with more than its share of excellent trail and ultra runners. Mark Godale, Steve Godale, Kam Lee, Bob Pokorny, Tim Clement, among others have all won major events. Mark owns the American male 24-hour record. On Saturday mornings and Wednesday evenings Gardner often runs with these folks on the trails in Cuyahoga Valley National Park. She also often leads Tuesday evening speedwork, featuring a variety of runners at a local middle school. Unfortunately, Connie’s most consistent training partner, Kim Martin, has recently relocated to Minnesota.

 

At the Second Sole of Medina running specialty store, Connie is extremely well regarded as the running authority of the area. She will gladly give valuable advice of all kinds to high school track and cross country kids, novice adult runners, walkers, experienced marathoners as well as fellow ultra runners. She is just as comfortable discussing the experiences of others as she is her own. In the process, she will also sell a pair of shoes or two.

At the running specialty shop

Burning River and Other Racing

At the 2008 Burning River 100 Mile race Gardner was going for it once again. This time there was no American Record or prize money; just (hopefully) the satisfaction of winning this grueling race outright. She had started conservatively and gradually moved up until, late in the race found herself in second place. Only one runner, Tim Clement, was between her and this goal of winning outright. Tim was now between 20 and 40 minutes ahead, but Connie was running well and thought she'd have a shot. This was the point where, on the darkening trails, she saw some markers indicating that the race was to proceed in the opposite direction. Connie now knew what had gone wrong. Miles earlier she had emerged from one trail to another and was a bit confused about which way to go – left or right. She had picked the direction that she thought was right, but now found herself going the wrong way around the almost circular route. She could have simply completed this portion and moved on, perhaps not losing any time or ground. And late in the race, this surely was tempting. But Gardner knew the right thing to do: return to the point where she'd gone off course and continue from there. By doing the right thing, Gardner still won the women's division, but was second to Clement in the overall finish. Most runners would be thrilled to be the first of their gender and not even give the overall placement a second thought. And most runners in Connie's situation may not have done the right thing to complete all of the course. For another runner’s view of the previous year’s Burning River Race, see My Most Unforgettable Ultramarathon (And What I Learned From It) by Wyatt Hornsby, Marathon & Beyond, July/August 2008.

 

On Saturday, September 27, 2008, Gardner competed in and won by a few seconds the female masters division of the Akron Marathon. Her time was 3:13. Immediately after accepting her award, which included some amount of cash, she went to her team’s cross country meet, managing to catch the tail-end of it. That evening it was into the car and off to Moline, Illinois. That’s a seven-hour drive. Sunday morning she was to run the Quad Cities Marathon and once again compete for master’s prize money. She won the category at this race too, in 3:19. “I thought these back-to-back marathons would be good training for the upcoming ultra world championships,” she said.

A few shorter races also popped up on the calendar throughout the year. Most notable was the Youngstown Peace Race 10K on October 12. Gardner was the second master with a time of 39:58. “I had never broken 40 minutes for a 10K before,” she said.

World Championships

Gardner had been on US National teams in the past, and for 2008 she had been chosen to be a member of both the National 24-hour and 100k teams.

She had high hopes of placing well at the World Championship 24-hour run in Seoul, Korea on October 20, 2008. Despite the extreme heat, humidity, air pollution; despite the crowded, difficult c-shaped course; despite the mostly concrete surface, she was doing quite well for the first 12 of the 24 hours. It was the blister that got her. Blisters befall many an ultra effort, but Gardner generally doesn’t fall prey to them. She did fall prey this time, however. At 14 hours and 88 miles, she stopped for medical attention with the intention of having the blister lanced and returning to the competition. Her second toe had swollen to well over twice its normal size, but the lancing didn’t hurt too much. It was when the medical person pressed down on her toenail that she felt such intense pain that she immediately vomited. This race was over for her. “If it had only been the concrete surface, the pollution, the heat, or even the blister, I could have made it,” she said. “But all these things together conspired against me. It was just too much.”

After this team race came another: the Ultramaratona degli Etruschi / International Athletics Union (IAU) 100 km World Cup in Tarquinia, Italy on November 8, 2008. Here Gardner gained some measure of redemption after that 24-hour race. “The team’s plan was for some of the runners to ‘go for it’, and for me to run a steady pace,” said Gardner. Running that steady pace as planned, she finished in 29th place among all women and was the fourth American. The USA Women did great to finish second overall.

 Meghan Arborgast, Connie Gardner, Carolyn Smith at World 100K

JFK

To finish off the year, Gardner decided to travel to Maryland to run the JFK 50 Mile on November 22 JFK is one of the country’s oldest, largest, and most prestigious ultras. It was a last-minute decision, and the race had been filled to capacity much earlier. But past winners are allowed to register at any time, and Connie had won the race twice, in 2002 and 2004. She had also finished second and third on other occasions. 

In 2008, having just turned 45, Gardner took the lead early during the hilly and technical Appalachian Trail portion of the race. “This was my plan; there were some fast runners behind, including a 2:40 marathoner,” she said. “ I thought I’d better run fast while I have the advantage on the trail.” By the time she hit the towpath (mile 16 or so), she had a 20-minute lead. She ran a steady pace, despite the wind, cold, and mud. Losing only a few minutes, she held that lead for the entire 26-mile towpath section, and also on the final road section.  She won with a time of 7:15, only 4 minutes slower than her previous fastest time there. What a great way to polish off the year! 

JFK

So what does make Connie tick? Yes, she definitely is blessed with those slow-twitch muscle fibers, but she also definitely works at it. The hard work is the thing. Other than that, to answer the question more directly, it sure beats the heck out of us.

To be sure, 2008 was quite a year. And it will only serve as prolog for 2009. Sound familiar?

a Few of Connie Gardner’s Major Ultra running awards and accomplishments

• Mohican Trail 100-mile; female champion 2001, 2007, 2008
• Kentucky 50-mile; female champion 2001
• Buckeye Trail 50K; female champion 2001, 2002, 2003, 2007; course
record 2006
• JFK 50-mile ultramarathon; female champion 2002, 2004, 2008
• Sunmart Texas Trail 50-Mile; female champion 2002, 2004
• Western States 100-mile; top 10 finisher 2002, 2003, 2004
• Umstead 100-mile trail; female champion 2002, 2006; female champion
and course record 2005
• Umstead 50-mile trail; female champion 2003
• 100K USATF national champion 2003
• 100-mile USATF national champion 2003, 2004
• USATF national team member: World Cup 2003, 2006, 2008
• Named USA Track and Field Ultrarunner of the Year 2003
• Named in most interesting people, Cleveland Magazine, 2003
• Chicago Lakefront 52-mile; female champion 2004
• Groundhog Fall 50K; female champion 2005; female champion and
course record 2006
• Rocky Raccoon 100-Mile Trail Championship; female champion
2006
• Toronto 100 K/Canadian National Championship; female champion
and course record 2006
• Laurel Highlands 70-mile; female champion 2006
• Hocking Hills 60K; female champion and course record 2006
• Ultracentric 24-Hour national championship; third female 2006; female
champion 2007
• 100K World Championship; participant 2003, 8:15 PR; 2007, 2008
• Javelina Jundred 100-mile; female champion 2007
• Mad City 100K national championship; second female 2008
• Burning River 100-mile; female champion 2008

long

You've heard it here before: 18 or more miles is a long run. Why that particular minimum? Because 17 just isn't long enough, and 19 is too long (for a minimum,, that is). There. That should explain it.

To add some much-needed clarity here, I'm thinking of long runs in relation to marathon training. You must be able to run 18-mile or longer training runs if you have a marathon in your future. And that I do. Running long is especially important for me at this time because I haven't done so in well over a year. Getting back to this kind of distance has not been easy for me.

~

Dan arrives at the Medina Square at 4:45, a good 75 minutes early. But it's not entirely all that good since he wanted to get started by 4:30. This means that he will probably need to run a few extra miles alone after everyone else gets done in a few hours in order to get up to 18. Oh, the things he goes through.

He zips over to the Claggett Middle School track and back for 6 1/2 miles. It's a clear morning and he witnesses the spectacular and rare planet alignment. The sun is beginning to rise by the time he's getting his gel and water and meeting up with his peeps. The four fellow runners happen to be all female this day.  Oh, the things he goes through.

The group run pace begins easy enough, but it quickly devolves into something less comfortable for Dan. Hey, take it easy on the old guy, he wants to say. But he doesn't. He's huffing and puffing too much to talk much. Eventually, Dan finds himself alone again as the others complete their runs for the day. He has 16 and change on his Garmin, so only two to go. 

Even though two miles don't seem like they should be a lot, Dan knows they will be painful. And slow.

Guess what? They are! Despite this, he makes it back. It's a little past 8:00 and the Square is buzzing with activity as the farmers market is about to begin. Dan is tired and sore, but he limps through the gauntlet of booths and over to the car. 

He's pretty darn happy with himself. The notification alarm in his head tells him that he can take a day off tomorrow. A well-earned one.

different

I feel like I'm a different runner than I was a couple years ago. What's changed? Of course, I had that Achilles surgery. And I'll admit it: I'm older too. But it's a little strange, like every day is new. I'm not sure whether that's good or bad, but I am sure that I miss my old semi-speedy, semi-ultra self.

Two years ago, I was running every day. I was running a lot. And I was running fast. Fast? Well, remember that speed is, in Einstein's words, relativistic. All that volume enabled me to complete a 60K birthday run with Larry Orwin, a pretty good early-fall marathon, and a late-fall 50K. 

2021 was not so stellar. In the months leading up to the May surgery, I was not running well at all. Maybe all those 2020 miles took their toll. Or maybe it's just the age thing. After the surgery, I was forced to go several months without running at all. When my running finally did start, it was next to nothing, at least to begin with.

This year, I've been running more and more, but I am still nowhere near my 2020 level of fitness. And running just feels different. Tedious and more difficult. Will I ever get that old mojo back? Will I become that guy again?

Time will tell.

Belated Race Report: Ohio/Michigan Marathon, July 10, 1994

A great local runner died last week. With this post, I am reminding myself of the first time I met him.

~

This race consists of a 5K out and back loop that runners have to traverse eight times for a marathon. It starts north of Toledo and crosses the Ohio/Michigan border so that each competitor crosses over 16 times during the race. The start is at 6:00 A.M. to mitigate the problem of running in mid-July heat, which is indeed stifling. There are around 60 of us runners, and the volunteers include several lap-counters. Sound like fun? It does to me.

The early-morning hour-long drive south from Farmington Hills is uneventful. As I pick up my bib (#13), I learn that a majority of the competitors are from Ohio. I meet my designated counter. I'll be sure to make eye contact with her each time I come around for a lap. 

The race begins, and I fall in with the lead pack of about five. For someone who has never had the sensation, it's pretty cool sharing the lead, even though the field is so small. 

I strike up a conversation with some of my competitors. Two of them are brothers from Aurora, Ohio. The two seem very young (maybe college-age) and quite different from one another. One has glasses and long beach-blonde hair and is outgoing and talkative. The other is quieter and more serious, yet not unfriendly. Their names are Steve and Mark Godale.

Our pack stays together past the halfway mark and the clock tells us that we're 90 minutes into the event. That's about when the 5K and 10K races begin. Now there are hundreds more runners on the course with us. They spread out quickly (and they're moving faster than we are), so it's not crowded. We manage to continue our pace without much trouble. Having decided that eye contact just isn't quite enough, I make sure to wave and sometimes yell hello to my lap counter each time I go by.

One guy begins to pull away. I don't think the rest of us slowed down; he has just picked it up. After a few minutes, Mark goes after him. Steve and I stay back and continue talking and doing our sub-seven-minute miles. The conversation helps the miles go by easier. One or two other runners join us at times, but we're doing most of the talking and keeping the pace steady. I wish I could go for the win, but I just don't think I can run any faster without paying an impossible price.

The 5K and 10K speedsters are finishing up; it's back to just us marathoners and a few other stragglers. I see all of the other runners twice on each 5K circuit, so it's easy to figure out who's in what place. I watch Mark catch the other guy, and take the lead for good. Several minutes behind now, Steve and I continue our comfortable pace and conversation. I am hopeful that I can break three hours today, despite the heat and humidity. Steve seems non-plussed by the whole thing; he loves to run but refuses to become overly concerned about any one aspect of it. I'm impressed with his (and his brother's) maturity. Not to mention talent, of course.

He and I finish together with a time of 2:58. It's a P.R. for me by a minute; my third sub-three. I also tied for third place. I'm thrilled! 

Mark and the other guy had finished several minutes earlier. I notice that there is now a heated argument. The second-place guy is trying to claim victory, accusing Mark of missing a lap. Mark is denying it, but he's not saying a whole lot; he's mostly turning red and fuming. Steve and I argue vehemently that Mark did indeed complete the entire run and did not miss any laps at all. Thank goodness common sense wins the day, and Mark is rightfully declared the victor.

~

I believe this is one of Mark's earliest marathon wins. He went on to much bigger and better things like becoming a national champion and an American record holder. I moved back to the Cleveland area in 2000, becoming much more familiar with both Mark and Steve. I was shocked and saddened when I learned that Mark passed away on June 13, 2022. Here is a brief summary of some of his running accomplishments. For more depth and detail about his ultrarunning, click here as well.

Concrete

It's 9.96 miles into my 10-mile run. One second I'm vertical, and the next, WHAM, I'm not.

This is not as bad as the last time I encountered the Earth's surface with body parts that are supposed to stay away from it. Today, I manage to break the fall with the palm of my hand, so other than a jarring experience, I'm mostly okay. 

What caused the fall? Uneven concrete sidewalk sections to which I should have paid more attention. I hate concrete. Besides being uneven, its hardness also takes a long-term goal on us runners. Asphalt is better, and dirt, grass, crushed limestone, etc. are better still. Rubberized tracks are high among my favorite surfaces, and had I just remained on one for one more mile today, I would be having a different conversation with myself right now. 

After those first nine miles at Claggett Middle School track, why did I leave? Well, I was bored and decided my post-speedwork cooldown mile could be elsewhere. Secondly, a team of soccer girls had shown up, and I decided to stop showing off my half-naked body by running circles around them any longer.

The speedwork itself went better than expected. 5 x 800, the first in a long while. Now to improve on this. And remain vertical.

A word about pace

Volume and intensity are the two main ingredients required for improvement. Volume is generally the more critical, and should be attended to first. I usually think of pace as being more concerned with intensity (read: speed) than volume. That said, I can't help thinking a little about my pace, even as I concern myself mostly with weekly mileage and long-ish run length.

I am trying hard to get back up to 60 or more miles per week, and also to get my long-ish runs back up to truly long-run lengths of 18 miles and up. Today's goal was 14 miles - the distance from Peninsula to Brecksville and back via the Towpath. I wasn't concerned about the pace; I just needed the distance.

But it's hard to not think, just a little, about how fast I go. After getting started all alone in the dark, fireflies lighting the way, I start slow, but then I begin to run each mile a little faster. Would I be able to continue the trend for all 14 miles? Short answer: no. But 1 through 13 did indeed fit the trend.

It's my longest and best-paced run in a long while. It was also a beautiful morning. Great to be back on the towpath once again. Sorry for being so pleased with myself.

Oppressive

 

Heck yes, it's oppressive. And I don't use that term lightly. This is about as hot, hazy, and humid as it can get. I don't like it.

I've only been back for a few days, but I'm trying to make up for lost time. My peeps didn't make it yesterday due to the thunderstorms, but I managed to run ten miles as things were calming down. Those were ten humid miles, and the run was tougher than it would have otherwise been. Today is worse. Much worse. At least I have my peeps back.

Five of us meet at Lake Medina in the early morning gloom. It's in the mid/upper seventies and the humidity is thick enough to cut with a knife. But there are fireflies galore! the woods are lighting up all around us. It almost makes everything else worthwhile. I say almost, because there are other bugs as well. Tons of other bugs, and some are of the biting variety. The others just get in our eyes, noses, and mouths.

We get back to the parking area to pick up two latecomers. Now we're a real troupe. Later, we return once again to drop four of us off. 

Now it's just us three. We're doing around four more miles. It's getting lighter, and there aren't quite so many bugs. The only ones that I notice now are the deerflies that take bites out of my back, neck, and head. They seem to like my greasy/oily/sweat-covered skin. They seem to like to make me more miserable than I already am.

I'm pretty exhausted when I finally return for the final time (I ran the last mile all alone to get my total up to ten for the day). I doubt whether I could have done this without a little help from my friends.

Running in Scandinavia

Copenhagen, Denmark

It's bright daylight at 4:45 AM, so I don't need my headlamp or reflective gear. The sun is just about to rise, but there's no darkness to be found. The days are long up north here, and I think this will be the southernmost point on this trip. A half-mile on, I cross the Copenhagen Port River, to Christianshaven, which I believe is an island lying between Denmark and Sweden. But don't quote me; it's difficult to figure out what's a river, what's an island, what's a canal, etc. The place is almost like Venice, with its canals and waterways of all kinds, all over the place.

Right away, I'm running on trails through the woods, with watery canals nearby and all around. The sun is coming up, and everything is nice and pretty. I wind up on a bike trail through a very strange neighborhood. There are homes that appear to be shacks, but well-maintained shacks. They're close to the bike path, but there are no cars or even roads anywhere nearby. This seems to go on for miles. The only navigational marker I see is the tall church steeple with the swirling, curling wrap-around staircase.

Me, on the trail

The church steeple to navigate by

At some point, I become a little confused. I cross over some of the canals and swamps in an attempt to find my way back. There are more of the shacks, but some have cars now. Eventually, I find the church steeple again, and it's right smack-dab where I thought it would be.

Other than my slow pace and a few moments of uncertainty, it's been a pretty good run. It's always good to explore.

Randers, Denmark

There's a nice dirt trail along the river here. It took a while to find it, but now that I'm on it, it's quite enjoyable. Too bad I don't have more time. And that complaint includes time to clean and dry my running clothes and shoes before we move on later this morning.

Stavanger, Norway

Too bad I (once again) have so little time. At least it's not raining.  I do manage to get around the nearby small lake, and over to the port area. Best part of all? I stay vertical, despite the cobblestones, the bane of my (running) existence. 

Bergen, Norway

I know what you're thinking: he doesn't have enough time to get in a good run. You are incorrect. There is plenty of time here in the Gateway to the Fjords, Norway's second-largest city. But there are other constraints: traveling with wet clothes (after I wash them) and the cold rain. It's pouring, and the temps are in the low 40s. Not my fav conditions.

But I do manage to explore a little. I run around a small lake, and over to the port area. Sounds just like my Stavanger run, but there's more to see here. And I double my mileage from yesterday. But one of these days I need to get a real run in.

Later in the day, I get a real run in. Five miles at a blistering pace! This time, it's in the afternoon from a different hotel in the Bergen area. The run and the distance aren't really remarkable, but I'm happy to do it.

Sognefjord, Norway

I'm locked out! I had left the hotel carrying a piece of scrap paper with the combination to get back in. That's because there is no one on duty during the nighttime (and early morning) hours. The code doesn't seem to work for me, and I struggle with the door until I realize that I have to push, not pull on it.

The run had been nice; all along the Sognefjord Fjord. Very quiet, peaceful, and incredibly scenic. It was quite memorable.

Geiranger, Norway

This place is even more remote than Sognefjord. I leave the village of around 200, heading Northwest on the road along the fjord. Here, the walls are closer and steeper than those near Sognefjord. I reach the somewhat smaller hamlet of Mollsbygda. From here, the road goes up, way up, the mountain above the fjord - it looks like dozens of switchbacks. I turn back toward Geiranger. Once I return, it's time to try the other side of the fjord. Now, going mostly West, I reach the smallest hamlet of all, Homlong. The road ends there, and I turn back once again. This 10K plus run has been the most scenic and the best yet of all my runs here.

Just starting out from Geiranger

Just before Mollsbygda

Oslo, Norway

It's pretty simple to get down to the Harbor - just a hop, skip, and a jump. Not that I have a spring in my step; I don't. I missed my chance to run in Lillehammer yesterday, due to an upper-respiratory infection. I do manage to get out today because I'm feeling better, and because I have some time here in the afternoon, 

After exploring the harbor area, I make my way back up the hill, past the hotel area, and over to the King's Garden. It's a nicely manicured park that Debbie and I had walked through earlier. All-in-all, not a bad return to running after a couple days off.

Oslo Harbor

Stockholm, Sweden

I'm only a half-mile from the hotel, and I'm hopelessly lost in Stockholm's apartment hell. Good thing I don't have much of a time crunch. I always think that if I only run around in circles, I'll find some familiar landmark and remember my way back from there. Nope. I ought to disavow this religious belief. Eventually, I do manage to find an old wooden church that I'd seen before. Hallelujah. 

Anatomy of being  lost in Stockholm

I'm still here.

It wasn't supposed to be this way. I'm supposed to be home, you see. But there's this little rule that says that in order to fly into the U.S. you have to have a negative Covid test. Debbie and I tested positive the other day, so here we are for several more days. We're both feeling well; we just had minor cold symptoms. But now we are close to 100%. Want to know what hurt the most? Walking over to watch the Stockholm Marathon take place yesterday during the time when we were supposed to be flying home. Since I'm stuck here, I could've run the darn thing! But I'd decided not to try; running a marathon is probably not the smartest thing to do when you have Covid. This is also not to mention that I'm hopelessly out of shape.

Today's run through a nearby park and along the waterfront is quite nice though. I'm feeling fine and enjoying the scenery and the sunshine. That's except for the attacking seagull. I am not sure why it doesn't like me, but it takes several strafing runs at my head. Maybe it thinks it is a landing area. I finally determine that it's a Hitcockian Gull. But I survive this ordeal. And now I'm back up to a whole 5 miles again.

On a hill overlooking Stockholm

Whenever I run on an island, I have this strange urge to try to circumnavigate it. It's the same when there's a lake I can get around. As for islands, there are gobs of them that make up the city of Stockholm. The one I'm on is just a little too big - I have considered it, however. Today would be a four-island run day. Those include a tiny one or two, as well as the one I'm staying on and one that could possibly be part of the mainland (but I can't tell). When I get to the fourth and final one, there's nowhere else to go, and it's fairly small, so I do indeed manage to complete an almost-circumnavigation.

Four-Island run in Stockholm

I'm lost in Stockholm once again. This time, I'm well into my ten-mile run, and I hadn't planned to get off of the 3 1/2 mile trail at the southern shore of the island. I'd planned on just running back and forth as much as it took. But hey, a trail led to a park in the Western part of the island, and I took it. It went up, and then round and round, enough to get me completely turned around. By the time I find myself again, I don't need much more for my double digits today. This turns out to be my best run of the trip. So far.

It's my last run in this here town (we both have negative covid tests now, so we get to go home!), and I'm really moving. I actually pass two other runners, and that's something; they've been doing nothing but passing me the entire time I've been here. It's interesting that Swedish runners seem to be really and truly fit. But unlike my running friends back home, they run almost entirely alone. And they're about 75% male, whereas I think it's about 60% female in my part of the world. All in all, the running here has been pretty good. My runs have improved to the point where I feel that I am beginning to approach the level of fitness I was in when I left home three weeks ago. Today's nine were even faster than my last decent ten described above. See you in Ohio. I hope!

It's the friction, stupid

When I first ran after the accident, I thought it was the bouncing of the boobs that bothered me. It wasn't. Instead, it was the friction.

Once I figured this out, I've managed to run shirtless a couple of times (with the added bonus of being able to show my chest off to my running friends), and shirt-wearing, and even sporting multiple layers other times. This is Northern Ohio, after all, where we go from air-conditioning to running the furnace during any given 24-hour period. When choosing a shirt on the cooler days, I look for something slightly soft, so that I don't feel it on my left nipple each time my foot hits the ground.

Running with friends helps. After any and all initial conversation and silliness, my misfortune is often soon forgotten, and all I need to do is keep up with everyone else. And since our groups have been getting bigger recently, the runs are as much fun as ever. 

Now, I believe that my setback has been overcome, and I have indeed "bounced back." 

Again.

Bouncing Back

It's with some amount of pride that I can say that whatever curveballs fate, karma, or plain stupidity throw at me, I am able to bounce back and return to running, that much older and wiser. Well, older, at least. This Big Comeback, like all comebacks, begins with the first step of the first run.

I am out the door. I don't know what will be in store for me today, but I don't plan to push the envelope too very much. Maybe one to three easy miles, tops. Wednesday's debacle caused me to miss my runs two days in a row, something I hadn't done for months. It's been a month, in fact, since I've missed even one day. I reach the street, and then I take that first (running) step.

Ouch. Second step. Ouch. And so on. My boobs are bouncing, and my left one, the one with the stitches, smarts. Bouncing boons is something a runner of my gender doesn't usually need to be concerned with. And this sort of 'bouncing back' isn't the type I thought would be much of a problem today.

Eventually, I slow down a little, and the pain seems to subside. I run only two very slow miles. That's enough bouncing for today. Maybe I'll be able to bounce back better tomorrow.

Lacerations and Contusions (warning: contains significant bodily injury porn)

 

Some questions probably come to mind right away: 1) Why begin with an image of Dan's mileage? and 2) Lacerations and Contusions? Huh??

The answer to the first question is easy. The first photo in a post usually shows up as an icon when a link to the post is displayed, and Dan didn't want his injury porn to show up like that, all over, willy-nilly. In fact, this is a good time to warn anyone who doesn't want to see bodily injury porn to bug out right now. Don't say you were not warned.

Still here? Good. Now, it's time to answer the second question.

It's 4:30, and Dan is pretty happy. He's gone through his morning routine, and it looks like he will be able to arrive early at Lake Medina, where he is to meet his running friends at 5:15. This may enable him to get an extra mile or so in, ala the Dan of Olde. He puts his stuff in the car but doesn't drive off right away. That's because of Nipper. 

Nipper, his robotic mower, is in the backyard, and even after taking some special measures, he spends too much time there and too little time doing the front. After sending him out on a special mission to do the front at this early hour, Dan realizes that Nipper is mowing the back despite these wishes. Dan decides to walk back there and physically take him to the front. He's done this before, but not in the dark.

Dan walks around the side of the house and spots Nipper, headlights and all, mowing a corner in the back. In a slight hurry (because he still wants to get those extra miles in), Dan begins to stride over to retrieve his wayward pet mower. That's when things begin to happen very quickly. Dan trips over the two-foot-high garden fence (the one that he should have been well aware of) and begins falling into the garden itself. But he's stopped by a three-foot-high metal fence post, the kind with three sides that are rather sharp at the top. The collision occurs on the left side of his chest.

His first thought is that he is completely impaled by the post. His second thought is that perhaps he's not impaled, but why does it hurt so much? And then: will he be able to even get up at all? He prefers not to be found here by his wife, Debbie when she wakes up in three hours or so.

After a couple of horizontal minutes, Dan somehow manages to get up and out of the garden. His next thought is that perhaps it's just a bruise (albeit a painful one), and he can probably still make it to the run on time. But instead of getting right into the car, he decides to perform a quick self-check in the bathroom mirror.

There's a quarter-sized hole in the running shirt, and some blood around it. Removal and disposal of the shirt (don't worry - he owns other running shirts) reveals a surprise. And not a good surprise. The laceration is deep, wide, thick, and long - about 9 inches long. It goes straight across his left pectoralis major, including the nipple. The pain isn't unbearable, and it's not bleeding a great deal, so Dan cleans it up and waits. He waits for the Cleveland Clinic Express Care Center to open, and for Debbie to wake up and take him.

Debbie takes good care of him and gets him to the hospital, where they transfer him to Emergency. They do a chest x-ray (to diagnose the contusions), give him an antibiotic IV, a tetanus shot, and about a billion stitches. The antiseptic and sewing of the sutures are pretty darn painful at times. But the Emergency Room Doc is friendly and talkative. He clearly enjoys his job.

Now sewn back together, Dan isn't so sure what to do with himself. Maybe go out for a run. But not today.

Read (or just scrolled) down this far? Okay, here's your porn.

In the hospital, just before the stitches

Looks like about 22 stitches

Registered

 Yes, I've gone and done it. I registered.

No, I don't mean to say that I registered for races (although I am indeed all-in for the Twin Sizzler and the Erie Marathon). The registration I'm referring to here is on the machine they erected in my neighborhood. It's a speed monitor that is intended to inform drivers of their current speed compared with the speed limit. When I see these things, I always try to run fast in order to have the machine report my own speed back to me.

The vast majority of the time, I fail to register at all. It's as if I'm invisible. I am not sure whether this is due to my lack of mass (compared with a motor vehicle), or my relatively slow speed (compared with a motor vehicle). I try to run fast(er) in case it's the latter reason.

Thus, I was quite surprised when the machine near me reported "5" as I approached. Whoa, I thought. I can run faster than that. I picked it up and brought my speed all the way up to "6".

My registration is complete.

Consistency

There is something to be said for consistency. I just don't know what. I'll let you know when I find out.

I ran nearly every day in February, March,, April, and now early May. I think the only days I have taken off were ones that required a great deal of traveling. I used to make it a point to take one or two days off per week. Then came my year-long running streak, which was followed by (but surely not related to) my Achilles surgery. Now, I'm back at it.

This is not to say that I don't have some easy days. I do. Lots of them, and they are very easy. After finishing last week with a flurry of miles, I can guess that tomorrow will be such a day.

A flurry of mileage to complete the week? Yes, and I made it to 60 weekly miles for the first time in a year. It's hard to believe that I used to be consistent about doing 60, 70, and more miles each and every week. It was really hard to get back to this level, and the reason also has to do with consistency.

You see, I am still not doing long runs. I define a long run as 18 miles, and nowadays I can only make it up to 12. Twelve is itself an improvement since it wasn't long ago that the most I could do is ten. But without 18-20 milers, I used to consistently do a long run a week. But no longer. Now, I have to be all the more consistent with my medium-length runs and with not missing any days.

I am going to try to keep my weekly mileage up here consistently for at least a while. And I'm also going to try to get back to doing long runs. Consistently.

You read it here first.

Run 4 Fun Race Report

"Nope."

Our Protagonist (let's call him 'Dan') had taken just one step out the door. The cold rain, which he thought he might be able to beat, had made itself known immediately, and Dan just as immediately went back inside his warm, dry hovel.

Down into the basement he goes. and onto the treadmill. He's been trying to avoid the mill this week, but he deems avoiding cold rain more important. He runs ten miles, probably more than he should have.

He runs so much this morning because he figures that the evening's Run 4 Fun may not be optimal due to further chances of cold rain. That's if it happens at all.

"Nope."

Dan steps outside before it's time to drive to Medina for the race. It's still raining and it's still cold. Dan almost, almost, decides not to make the trip at all. In spite of himself, he nevertheless gets into the car and begins driving south. 'I am gonna regret this,' he thinks. At least he can add, ran too hard in the morning to his other excuses for the day, such as it's cold and rainy, I cannot run so late at night, and I am sure to make a fool of myself, etc.

Run 4 Fun is a great little Friday evening 5K to benefit Medina City Schools. Dan hasn't run this particular race for ten years or more. He immediately bumps into old friends galore. It seems that his injury, combined with the Covid Pandemic have caused many of his old friends to become near strangers. It feels great for Dan to re-connect with so many of these great folks.

As he lines up with Harold Dravenstott, who has generously offered to stay with him during the race, Dan begins to feel like old times at the beginning of a race. Oh, the anticipation!

But then the run begins, and everything gets real. He and HD begin at an easy pace, yet he is almost immediately out of breath nonetheless. HD and Dan eventually settle into a 9 to 9:30 per mile pace, only slightly faster than planned.

Somehow, despite a slight slowdown, Dan maintains a nearly even pace and finishes in just under 29 minutes. About three months ago, Dan had run a nearly identical time at the Mardi Gras 5K in Panama City Beach. One may have hoped that Dan would have improved since then, but consider those excuses of his.

Some day, Dan will need to get into shape. Today is not that day.

Dan and HD near the finish, with Dan about to make his Big Move   photo credit: Beth Bugner

Double-Digits

Keen observers of this blog will note that there have been several posts of late in which I lament the fact that I can manage to run up to ten miles, but not much more than that. Things went a little better Saturday when I managed 12 decent miles with my friends. Today, just two days later, I ran another 12 miles, and they were pretty good as well. So maybe I'm pushing that boundary out a little. Just a little. For the rest of this week, I hope to run one or two more double-digit runs, although I won't expect them to be more than 12; maybe next week for that.

Double-digits come into play another way for me, however. Here's we're talking ten-minute pace. The vast majority of my running these days is well north of that. I have to really buckle down and concentrate to run faster, especially for any length of time. Nowadays, I call it a tempo run if I can manage to run three or more consecutive miles under ten. It doesn't happen real often. And I probably shouldn't push the pace so much on my longish runs of ten or more miles.

But I did today. I didn't even intend for it to happen; I only wanted 12 decent miles. But since I started so slow, I began trying to run each mile faster than the previous one, and I somehow succeeded. But this meant that by the time I got to mile 9, there was no place to go but sub-10 (in order to keep each mile faster than the one before). I got back to the car just as my watch said 12 miles, and just as it said that the final mile, at 9:15, was indeed my best.

The average pace for today's run wasn't outstanding, but all's swell that ends swell.

Running How I Feel

It's a nice concept, isn't it? Just run how you feel. Feeling just fine today? Go for it; run long and hard. Not doing quite so fine? Then don't push it; your body needed a break anyway. That's all well and good, and it's the best strategy when recovering from an injury. It's a good plan for preventing injuries as well. But it won't get you (or me, in this case), to the next level. For that, you have to push it past your comfort zone.

My own comfort zone has been up to, but not much more than, about ten miles. Yesterday, with the help of some much-appreciated friends, I did twelve decent miles on the Lester Rail Trail. All that was required of me (besides actually running) was the telling of a few semi-worn-out stories. It felt good (the run, not the stories), but I still have a long way to go.

On a related note, it's the same with my weekly mileage. It's been in the 50-55 range for quite some time now. Time to take it up to 60 and beyond. I'm not quite sure when that will occur, but it'll be in my sights starting tomorrow.

In order to provide some additional incentive to kick things up a notch, I just registered for the Erie Marathon, scheduled for September 11. I'd better start training.

Fatigue: it didn't get to me today

As noted in recent posts, I often seem to hit a wall at around 9 to 11 miles. Today I would try to break through that wall and go for 12 or so. More importantly, I wanted to get my pace down below ten minutes per mile for at least three consecutive miles so I can also call it a tempo run. As recently as two months ago, I was doing this fairly regularly on my 9.5-mile route around Conservation Park in Panama City Beach. Since then, my running performance hasn't been quite so great. But of course, we know that progress isn't always in a straight line. 

After five miles on Lester Rail Trail, I picked up the pace. I managed to get those three consecutive tempo-paced miles in (9:27, 9:17, 9:13)... and then I crashed. Up to that point, each mile had gotten faster. But now I was done. I got back to the car a little past mile ten. I still wanted to do 2 more, even though I was dead tired. So I went back out. That's when the deer flies attacked.

It was all I needed: an excuse that didn't have to use the words, tired, fatigued, bonked, etc. Nope, this time it was the deer flies that did me in.

(Of course, if I wasn't so tired, maybe I could've outrun them.)

As long as it gets. Today's run, turn by turn

303

Why can't I run 18 or more miles at a shot anymore? Because I can't even run 14. Recognizing once again that progress isn't on a straight line, and that my overall mileage has in fact improved over time, I nonetheless desperately want to be able to do these long runs once again. Thus today's goal is 12-14. Maybe next week I'll be able to extend that further, but one run at a time. I turn from my subdivision onto 303. To avoid traffic, I run as little as possible on this busy state route, but in this early Saturday morning gloom, it's not too bad. I'm as awake as I can be at this hour. I guess.

Substation

Now I'm headed South, into the light wind. The route will take me down several semi-rural roads like this one. It's been a while since I've tackled this 11-mile course. (I am aware that 11 is not 12 to 14, but I can add some on after I return home.) I like these byways a lot, so long as the traffic is light. Substation's speed limit is 45, and there is little room to get off to the side when a car does go by. I pick up the pace a little, but these few miles are mostly downhill. I reflect that I'm running alone on a Saturday, and how unusual that is. But all my peeps are off doing races this weekend. Oh, how I wish I could do that as well.

Hamilton

After the turn from Substation, I run downhill some more as I pass miles 4 and 5, and a few cars go by, mostly around the Marks intersection. I'm still doing okay, although I become a little concerned when I struggle a little much going up the hill to Abbeyville.

Abbeyville

Okay, this is getting real. I'm only a little past half-way, and I'm slowing to a crawl. I guess the trifecta of Thursday's oral surgery, the resulting penicillin, and yesterday's second Covid booster has gotten to me.

Muntz

This is just a short uphill stretch, but I'm practically walking. Nothing hurts, especially, but I am Soooo tired.

Sleepy Hollow

Now I'm heading East again, and it feels like I'm finally on my way home. Never mind that I've still got 4 miles to go, and that I'm barely moving. I just want to lay down on the side of the road and go to sleep. But that won't get me there, now will it? I should say that even though today's run is most assuradly not going as well as I wanted it to, I'm still enjoying it. A wild turkey runs across the road up ahead, and I'm enjoying all the other birds and mammals that I'm encountering as well.

Substation

At this point, I am not physically able to go any slower, so I speed up. But only a bit. With only two miles to go, I can smell home.

303 and back in the subdivision

Lots of traffic on 303, but that's to be expected; it's taken me 30-60 minutes longer than it should have to get back here, so it's practically mid-day (not really). I squash any thoughts of adding anything on to the 11 miles to get up to 12 or beyond; I am done. No, let me correct that. I am done done.

Progress not in a straight line

Progress: it's not in a straight line anymore. Okay, it never was.

Since I began running again late last year, my weekly mileage has increased and my pace has decreased. I'm not where I was 18 months ago, but the overall trend is hopeful and slightly encouraging. But there have also been a few minor setbacks along the way. Although setbacks should be expected (and possibly even planned for) each one takes a while from which to recover.

The most recent setback involves the 26-day cruise from Miami to Italy. I did run on the ship, but the quality just wasn't there. And then the trip itself along with Easter weekend slowed me down some more.

Now, it's time to build back better. Don't judge me; I'm workin' on it.