The worm and I

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

~ Eighteen ~

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

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

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

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

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

Upswing

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

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

Run for Home Half-Marathon Race Report

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

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

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

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

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

Debbie Hopkins Memorial 5K Run Race Report

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

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

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

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

Dan takes off

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

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

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

The Final Exam is Looming

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

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

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

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