Oh. My. God.

Editor's note: This is a guest post from today's Lady-at-the-track.

It's dark, and I'm walking alone. It's a little scary here at the Brunswick Middle School Track, but as I walk, I slowly get over it. But then it happens. I'm in lane 8 on the back stretch when someone unexpectedly comes up from behind and scares the bejeebers out of me. That's when I exclaim, "Oh. My. God."

It's an old guy, and he's not running very fast. He tries to apologize for the sudden jump-scare, but he does a poor job of saying he's sorry. I guess he's not doing a good job of much of anything this morning. As he goes by during later laps, I notice he's making an effort to run a little faster. It's not working, I think. The guy is wearing standard-looking running clothes and some bright-green snazzy shoes. You would think he would be able to go faster, especially here at the track, but it's still not happening. 

As it begins to get light, I figure it out. He has a headband around his ears, with his bald head shining above it all. That's it! The reason is... he's not just old; he's very old!

The difference between unlawful and illegal

The difference between unlawful and illegal is fairly simple. Unlawful means against the law; ill eagle is a sick bird. I bring this up because I managed to spot two eagles during two successive runs. One was on Kennard Road, on the HD loop near Chippewa Lake. The other was skimming the Cuyahoga River adjacent to the Towpath Trail in Brecksville. 

On the HD loop. Photo: Julie Boggs

I'm finally beginning to recover. Not all the way, mind you, but at least I'm starting, and things are looking up. A little. My hip pain is even better.

That's all good, since I'm not done (for the year, or for my lifetime) yet.

Recover, DOM it!

According to the Cleveland Clinic, DOMS stands for delayed-onset muscle soreness, which is the muscle pain, aching, and stiffness that develops after you do strenuous, high-intensity, or unfamiliar physical activity. The delayed part indicates that the soreness may be most intense days after the physical activity rather than immediately afterward.

I've been trying to hit the ground running right after last week's Veterans Marathon, and guess what? It ain't working out too well. Having been thinking ahead to the upcoming Fall Classic Half and the Brunswick Marathon, I wanted to keep my "fitness" front and center. But perhaps I should have also thought a little bit about recovery and taken a day off or two. A week of running later, and I'm still pretty sore, beat up, and tired. And then there's this pain in my left hip.

That's my thought for the day. Now, I have to go run.

2026 InFirst Bank Veterans Marathon

4:01. There. I said it. Two minutes faster, and the first digit would have been a 3. That had been my goal, my quest, my great ambition. It would have proven, at least to me, that I'm not slowing down in my extreme old age. But now, I guess I am.

I love everything about this little race in Blacklick, PA. If you don't know where Blacklick is, it's between Blairsville and Indiana (the city, not the state). Still confused? It's a little over an hour from Pittsburgh. The race is simply out and back on the Ghost Town Trail, a crushed limestone rails-to-trails path that follows the Blacklick River. I've run the thing four times now, including last year, and I've enjoyed each one of them.

Before the start. The big flag blew underneath the bridge. And the cannon was about to go BOOM.

Ever have a race where your training, final preparation, and execution go just according to plan? Me neither. But today, I had two out of three. And the third (you guessed it, the execution) was mostly going the way I'd wanted as well. Until about mile 23.

My pace had been steady. Very steady. All I needed to do was to keep it going. Alas, I couldn't. I knew by mile 24 that it wasn't going to happen. The thing is, 26 miles is a long way. More to the point, it's a long way to hold a steady pace. All along, I'd been thinking about picking the pace up for the final few miles. It's been a while since I've been able to do that. Would today be the day? Unfortunately, no. It went the other way; my nine-minute miles became nine-thirties and tens.

One other bad thing about my race. The entire thing seemed more difficult than it should have. I never quite felt at ease, as steady as the pace was. I'm not sure what to make of these here feelings. I'd been thinking of the Kenyan runners' motto: train hard, win easy. I think I only got the first part right. But I'm not done (for the year or for my life). I've got more to do. Gonna work on that win easy part.

How things are boding

Bode is a funny word. It makes sense in some contexts (like, it bodes well), but not in others (you wouldn't say, things are boding pretty good). Here is the Cambridge definition: "The verb bode means to serve as a sign or omen of a future event, usually something very good or very bad." And here is some further information from Vocabulary.com: "The word comes from the Old English verb bodian, meaning "to announce" or "to foretell," which traces back to boda, meaning "messenger". This root is also the source of the modern word foreboding (a strong sense that something bad is coming)." With this in mind, how the heck are things boding for Dan, you ask? Dan would answer, "They're boding pretty darn good these days."

After last week's Yasso workout as well as a few other gems, today was Dan's all-important long run. He's not kidding about how critical this run was. Dan ran sort-of-long last week as a pacer for the Canal Corridor 100-Mile, and prior to that, he ran the Akron Marathon with not-so-great results. Although he's been putting in the miles, and although his speedwork is coming around, he strongly felt that he needed a rock-solid long run to boost his fitness and, more importantly, his confidence.

Dan decides that his long run should be on the Towpath, since it's similar to the Ghost Town Trail that he'll be on for the entirety of the Veteran's Marathon in two weeks. He starts running around 5:00 AM and returns at 6:00 to meet up with training partner extraordinaire, Julie Boggs. Dan and Julie run another ninety minutes at their usual pace, which is an improvement for Dan. When Julie leaves to attend her kids' sports events, Dan is all alone again. Now, he knows he needs to pick up the pace even more.

Dan has a strong conviction that he should be doing the final 3-4 miles of his long runs at close to marathon pace. That's a bit under nine minutes per mile. But it's tough after already traversing 18 plus miles. Can he do it? 

Yes, he can. He manages to get under a nine-minute pace for the final five of this 22 1/2 mile long run. And he's pretty durn happy about it. Now, all he needs to do is run an entire 26-miler at this pace. Piece of cake when things are boding so A-OK.

Finishing a terrific Towpath trail training trot on a tremendous Fall day

Holding those potato chips

Another week, another Yasso. I'm at the Brunswick Middle School track for my weekly Yasso interval workout. It's intense and tedious in equal measure. But early on, I remember some coaching advice (given to U.S. Olympians) that I heard a long time ago.

When running a hard workout, give it the full 90%. That's 90% of your total effort. You heard that right: 90, not 100. You should do this for 90% of the distance. Only in the last 10% should you ramp up your speed to 100%. The time, distance, effort percentages, and everything else about this advice is, of course, relative and subjective. For intervals, you can apply the principle to each repeat, and/or to the workout as a whole. It's more of an attitude, a way of thinking, than anything else. Something to tell yourself during the workout. This kind of self-talk is pretty critical.

Whilst giving it that full 90%, you need to keep yourself under control. You need to relax. This is another critical mindset. To go along with the relaxation self-talk (like, 'fast, yet easy-does-it'), you should consciously relax your body, mostly your face. Yes, shoulders, legs, and other parts of your torso, but concentrate on your face. Eyelids at half-mast, and relax your mouth. Maybe even smile a little. Don't make a crazy face like I've been known to do. If you do want to do that, wait until the last 10% of the distance, when you're about to give it 100% effort. Then and only then, go ahead and grimace.

One more thing: when you're relaxing your body and face, pretend you're holding a potato chip in each hand, between your thumb and first two fingers. Hold it gently, and don't crush it. This will help you stay in relaxation mode.

Today, I apply these principles to each repeat 800, and guess what? It works.

Canal corridor 100 Pace Report

Keen observers will notice that this is a "Pace Report," not a "Race Report." There's a difference.

I arrive at the finish line area in Akron, only to discover that I cannot get a cell signal. This means I can't summon an Uber to take me to the Canal Fulton aid station, where I'm to meet my friend Larry Orwin. Larry is running the Canal Corridor 100-Mile race, and I am to pace him for his final 19 miles. I end up having to drive to St. Helena Park myself so that I don't miss Larry. This will just make things more complicated after we finish. I strongly do not wish to miss the connection with Larry or let him down in any other way. I needn't have worried; everything works out okay.

Once Larry gets what he needs at the aid station, it's nice to finally get started. I've already mentioned the logistical concern, but my other concerns about running through the middle of the night had occupied my brain all day. It was easier for Larry; all he had to do was run 81 miles to get here.

Heading North, we are mostly walking, but it's a brisk pace. Sometimes we shuffle or jog a little. Sometimes I shuffle/jog whilst Larry shuffle/walks. We talk quite a bit, but come to think about it, I'm the one with the most words. Larry once told me that when he wants to get me started, he just presses (for example) the "Environment" button, and Dan will go off talking continuously about the environment... until it's time to press the next button. Tonight, he is pressing several buttons.

I remind Larry of an old Dan Adage: there is no shame in walking. So long as we're still moving forward, I'm satisfied that we'll make it to the finish, and I'll continue to support his efforts. By about Mile 90, Larry begins to transition to more running and less walking. At first, this strikes me as a good thing; we'll get this thing done and over with sooner. But then I notice that he is not running in a straight line, something that you truly ought to do on the Towpath. He is also leaning forward and putting his arms back. I try to slow him down when the pace increases even more. I jokingly admonish him to stay vertical. Unfortunately, he doesn't. I help him back up more than once. I give him some Salt Stick tabs, and he has some Ramen Soup at an aid station. Seems to help...

Except for another fall within a few feet of the Finish, A lot of things can happen during a 100-Mile run, and most of them are bad, I say. (Another Dan Adage.) Larry makes it across the line a little after 5:00 A.M. for a 23-hour effort, good for a gold belt buckle. What an effort on Larry's part. Okay, mine too. Now, excuse me while I get my second nap of the day started.