Too soon?

About the phrase, 'Too soon?'

• Offensive timing: People say "too soon" when a joke makes fun of a recent tragedy, death, or upsetting event.
• Not enough healing: It means people are still hurt, and enough time has not passed to laugh about it.
• Ironic use: Sometimes people say "too soon" as a joke about very old historical events or minor inconveniences to tease others about being easily offended.

Today, however, there's a slightly different context. Is it too soon to run intervals (Yasso ones, at that) after the only-three-day-ago Akron Marathon? Of course it is. 

But I did 'em anyway. Not well, mind you, but I did 'em. You see, I have a(nother) marathon in five weeks, and I have to get ready. Today's run wasn't pretty, but it's a start. If it's too soon, that's too bad.

Random acts of stupidity

Although I’ve already posted my initial report, here are some further thoughts on yesterday’s Akron Marathon.

First, there were many random acts of kindness. When I crashed at mile 26, I stopped dead in my tracks and screamed out in pain. There were only a few spectators around, and not too many other runners going by. The three cops showed up almost instantly to try to help. They were kind and considerate, but I told them I was okay because I didn’t want to wind up in an ambulance. It was a lie, but there you have it. The woman who rubbed my leg was wonderful. She had come out of nowhere and seemed to know just what to do. It felt good, but when I tried to resume running, I didn’t get far before the sharp pain also resumed. Before Julie Boggs came by, another runner stopped to try to help me. I may have been able to hang onto his shoulder and finish, but I didn’t want to slow him down, so I said no thanks. It was Julie and the Salt Sticks that truly did the trick. A miracle, for sure. These folks were all great, and I want to reiterate how much I appreciate the kindness. It often happens when we are in need of it most.

I think the guy who stopped to try to help me run in was Scott McKanna. I had seen him during the race, but had gotten ahead of him. Until my mishap. He wound up winning our selfsame ancient age group, finishing a minute and forty seconds in front of me. Maybe I should have allowed him to carry me across the line such that my bib registered ahead of his.

Now for the random acts of stupidity. Mostly, it’s the thought that I had a chance to break four hours. I had started conservatively, and I still thought it possible at halfway, which was 2:01 for me. But the second half of a marathon is a long way, and at Akron, it’s where the uphills take their toll. The final two miles are downhill, and although by that point, four hours was impossible, I still picked the pace back up and felt good doing it. Until I didn’t. In retrospect, I just wasn’t as fit as I needed to be to have such a goal.

The thing is, I’ve been at this long enough to know when I’m fit. And when I’m not. All the caffeine and gels weren’t enough. But some Salt Sticks would have helped prevent the worst from happening.

I’ll get over this. Really. Next up is the Veterans Marathon on November 1. I’m hopeful about that one.

Akron Marathon Race Report

Yeow!!!!! I stop completely (at mile 26 according to my watch - and about mile 25.75 according to the race) because I can't run or even walk. Any movement at all causes intense pain from the sudden cramp in my right quad. Three cops converge on me from different directions. They seem to want to get medical help. "Thanks," I say, "but I'll be okay." I want to finish. But I'm not okay. A nice lady appears and massages my leg. It helps a little. I thank her for being such an angel. 

I try to walk a bit, but the cramp recurs. Then another angel appears from behind. It's Julie Boggs. She gives me her bag of Salt Stick electrolyte chewable tablets. She offers to help me walk in, but I tell her to go on and finish. Now I'm taking a handful of those tablets and drinking from her water bottle. 

The effect is immediate. I'm able to walk and even jog a little. I am flabbergasted. I had no idea that the tablets would be so effective so soon. Not that I did well today. I cross the finish line with a time of 4:16, but until very recently, I'd thought that 4:10 was possible. After all this though, I suppose finishing at all is an accomplishment.

Just before the start: Julie Boggs, Theresa Wright, Laura Hutson, Dan, Ladd Clifford

It was great to see all my friends before, during, and after the race. The Akron folks put on a wonderful show. And for a change, the weather cooperated and was quite nice today. Even though I wasn't as fit as I wanted to be, I had thought a sub-four-hour time was possible. It wasn't - not with the hills in the second half. And then the cramping.

For my next trick, I know what I have to do: get (more, much more) fit and also lose a couple of pounds. Yeah. That's the ticket.

Signs

When Marathon Day is approaching, I look for signs. The signs more or less inform me what to expect, how to pace myself, and generally how I'm going to do. The Akron Marathon is pretty much done approaching now; it's here, less than 48 hours away. Here are the signs.

Weather: This is a huge sign, and it looks good: low in the upper 40s and high around 70, with clear skies. This is about as good as it can get these days. It always seems as though I get poor weather days when I'm feeling well trained, with the opposite being the case as well.

Weight: Another big sign. I think I heard the formula as 2 seconds per mile per pound of excess weight. So, if you're one pound overweight, you will run a marathon 52 seconds slower. I know: there are so many other variables that weight matters less than you might think. Yet I pay attention to it, and it's not good news. I've been over 160 pounds most of this year, although today I managed to coax the scale to show 159.8. I race better when I'm under the 160 mark.

Training Volume: Most of my training weeks this year have been around 70 miles. (70 slow miles.) Still, it's a good thing.

Training Intensity: Two benchmarks that I pay attention to are my long runs and my Yasso workouts. If I can nail both of those, I am confident that I can perform well in the marathon. This time around, I haven't been quite so consistent with speedwork. It's another area for improvement.

Other Races: Of course, the best predictor of marathon performance is performance in recent races, assuming that recovery is complete. My racing season has had its ups and downs this year. The Cleveland Marathon was disappointing, and most recently, the River Run was fairly awful, excuses be damned. Other half marathons were so-so. Slower than last year, but (barely) acceptable. I think my best race performance so far this year was at the Hermes 10-Miler in April.

What does all this tell me? Mostly, don't go out too fast (since I probably wouldn't be able to maintain such a pace) and don't set expectations too high (since I'd probably be disappointed). Hey, I've got an idea: Go out easy and try to enjoy the experience, no matter what.

Inarguably Inaugural: the 1978 Cleveland Marathon (again)

This is a short excerpt from my book, Run a Lot. It comes up because I've been in communication with the Cleveland Marathon Race Organization about their upcoming 50th anniversary. I've made some minor modifications. 

I'm the one with the headband

The date was May 14, 1978. I lined up for the Inaugural Revco Cleveland Marathon. At the ripe old age of 25, it was also my very first marathon. 

I enjoyed seeing the sights of my hometown as we started near Cleveland State University and traveled out and back to the West Side of town and the western suburbs. I enjoyed the crowds cheering me on and the perfect marathon weather. I ran better than expected for much of the race. At eighteen miles, I felt so good that I picked up the pace even more. I did not have a time goal, but it was beginning to look like I might break three hours. But at twenty-two miles, I had hit the wall and was almost entirely shot. In the final miles, I hobbled over the Veterans Memorial Bridge (aka Detroit-Superior Bridge) and finally made it to the finish line. My time was three hours and four minutes.

After one look at me, the finish-line volunteers immediately placed me in the medical tent, where they covered me and fed me ice chips. My wife, Debbie, found me there. I said those now-famous words, "Never again!"

I did not make good on my pledge. A few years went by, but I began to run other races, including marathons. I’ve now done over 130 marathons and over 40 ultramarathons, and I’m still running those 26.2-milers. I’m planning to run the 50^th annual Cleveland Marathon in 2027. Hope to see you there.

race registration insurance

Registering for a race and considering buying insurance? Consider what happened to me when I filed a claim.

When I registered for the Kauai Marathon, I purchased the associated race registration insurance from a company called ViCoverage. The non-refundable Registration Fee was $315, the Service Fee was $19.78, and the insurance Fee was 23.68. The race was cancelled due to the approaching Hurricane Lowell, so I filed a claim with ViCoverage.

Seemed like a slam-dunk. I provided all the required documentation, including even more when they followed up with some requests via email. The claim was denied.

“We have carefully reviewed your claim for the cancellation of the 2026 Kauai Marathon and Half Marathon. The event was cancelled by the organiser on 5 September 2026 ahead of Hurricane Lowell, rather than being a case of you personally being unable to attend.

Your policy's weather coverage states:

"'Inclement weather' during the 'admission day(s)' for at least one (1) day which results in 'your' inability to attend or remain at the 'admission day(s)' location... If the 'admission day(s)' is cancelled due to weather, 'you' will not qualify for this coverage."

Because the event itself was cancelled by the organiser due to weather, rather than you being unable to attend an event that went ahead, this falls outside what the policy covers. This is the case regardless of the severe weather conditions involved or the fact that your registration fee is non-refundable.

We have also checked the policy's other cancellation provision, which only covers involuntary job loss after at least three years of continuous employment. This does not apply to your circumstances.

As a result, we are unable to approve this claim.”

Before and even after I filed the claim, I have been unable to find this language about their coverage. Regardless, I tried to follow up to say that I couldn’t get there due to the storm anyway, but their denial still stands.

I can’t help but believe that all and all claims are denied; some reason will be found. I will never buy such insurance again.

Knowing when

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

That's from Kenny Rogers' song, the Gambler. It applies to today's running most intensely at 7:00 AM, as I've stopped at home for a pit stop. I've run 6 1/2 miles, including some slow speedwork, but I wanted to also get my daily total up to double digits. Getting back out the door seems to be a problem, however. Why the hesitation, you ask? Because I'm tired, stupid.

The Gambler lyrics run through my brain. Despite my tired, old, sore body, back out I go. After some mighty effort as well as some slow slogging, I somehow manage to do another 3 1/2. 

There are times when it's okay to allow yourself to fail. Not making it back out would have been a failure today. Other times, you ought to tough it out, like I did this time. The really hard part is deciding when to do which. Someday, maybe I'll be smart enough, or tough enough, to figure it out.

River Run Half-Marathon Race Report

Let’s start with the excuses:

1) It was hot and very humid.
2) I got back to Cleveland from the Stone Age (in hurricane-ravaged Kauai) only 23 hours ago. Still feeling the jet lag.
3) I ran a hot un-marathon only a week ago. Still feeling that as well.
4) I’m old, fat, bald, ugly, and slow. But you knew that.

There are probably a few others, but you get the picture. Before the run, I talk with my grandnieces and grandnephews. I also see my friend Larry Orwin. It’s all tons of fun. Until the gun goes off.

The River Run is point-to-point on the Cleveland Metroparks Parkway from Berea to Rocky River. It’s slightly downhill, and the road curves back and forth a whole lot. It’s very scenic with lots of trees and views of nearby Rocky River. This is Cleveland running at its finest. 

My first mile is a little under nine minutes, and it nearly kills me. But if I can only keep this up, I think, I’ll have an acceptable, decent day.

Alas, I can’t. Mile 1 turns out to be the fastest mile of the day. I never lose my marbles completely, but I just can’t seem to hold a decent pace. Despite my best efforts, I can’t even break the two-hour barrier today. My finish time is 2:02:51, my slowest in several years. I suppose you could say that I deserved it. I’m second in my age group, missing first by three minutes.

Now, I had better get in shape for the Akron Marathon. It’s only two weeks away, and I’m afraid. Very afraid.