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.

The 2026 Kauai Un-Marathon Un-Race Report

Part 1: Before the race

The Hilton Garden Inn is adjacent to Lydgate Beach Park. It’s good (really good) for a few morning miles. I sometimes venture further afield, however. Kapaa is only a couple of miles up to the North, and I can also run inland and uphill to the West. So, yes, I have options.

Lydgate SP

My primary consideration, running-wise, for this trip is the Kauai Marathon. It’s about halfway through our ten-day visit. Before the race, I do a couple of ten-milers as well as some shorter stuff. 

Sunrise at Lydgate SP

Part 2: The Un-Race

They wouldn't dare cancel the race, I say to the Lady Adventurer. Hurricane Lowell is still far away. My confidence is bolstered further when we attend the race expo to pick up my shirt and bib. We talk with someone from the race organization, and she is confident as well. But, she says, if the County of Kauai informs the race committee that cancellation is necessary, there's nothing they can do. And of course, that's what happens.

At the expo

I learn of the decision the evening before the race. I'm tapered, carbo-loaded, packed, and ready to go. I guess I won't be going anywhere. Lady A. feels bad for me. Now, as I'm unpacking my running gear, a thought occurs: I can do my very own Kauai Marathon. The storm is still far away, and the weather hasn't yet been bad.

It's 3:00 A.M., and I get out of bed. It's the time I would have gotten up to drive to the start in Poipu. But I'm not driving anywhere today. 

It's (just) before four, and I'm out the door. I plan to run ten to twelve 2+ mile U-Shaped loops around and back through Lydgate Park. Not very exciting, but I won't have to think too much, and I'll have access to water and restrooms. This strategy, like all such plans, goes out the window once the shooting starts. After a few loops, I decide that I need a diversion. So after a pit stop, I run on the sidewalk toward Kapaa. 

I discover that the sidewalk goes much further North than I thought. After some winding dipsy-doodles, I’m in the heart of Kapaa, close to the shoreline. By about 6:45 A.M., it’s getting light, and I realize that I’m about halfway done. Best of all, I’m feeling fine. I am running near a group of three young ladies going in the same direction and pace, so I ask if I can join them. They enthusiastically say yes. 

In fact, Kayleigh, Allison, and (I can’t remember the third one’s name) are enthusiastic about everything. They cheer on all of the other runners who are out and about. It turns out that everyone (including me and these three new friends) have the same idea: I’m in Kauai to run a marathon,(or a half), and dad-gum-it, I’m going to run a marathon (or a half). We see dozens of others, many wearing the official race shirts and some even wearing their race bibs. I later learn that many more runners ran on the actual course itself. I was happy to not have to drive anywhere.

With all the camaraderie and fun, it’s beginning to feel like a race. And we’re running in scenic Kauai on a beautiful, though windy, morning. The ladies’ boyfriends are supporting them with water and Gatorade, and this adds to the race feel. The guys graciously support my efforts as well. They’re all from Oahu, here for the Half-Marathon. The cancellation doesn’t upset them in the least; they’re doing it anyway and having fun.

We turn back, and I’m still doing great. Until I’m not. I hit the wall hard at mile 21, and the three ladies float away. My ten-minute miles suddenly become sixteen-minute miles. I struggle mightily to get back to the Hilton. The rain starts when I have around three to go. It feels good, but it doesn't do anything for my speed. With one mile to go, I pass by and manage to say goodbye to my friends who are getting into their car.

My time for the 26.2 is a pretty-darn-awful five hours and twenty-two minutes. It was a slow start, a pretty-good middle, and an abysmal finish. Had this been the real Kauai Marathon, my time could have been even worse, since the elevation would have been a factor. As it was, the heat and humidity really got to me.

I later learn that the race insurance I had purchased would not pay the $315 race fee claim. Their fine print evidently states that events cancelled by the organizer are not covered. I'm not at all happy about this.

Part 3: Aftermath

I'm pretty sore and tired after the race. On top of that, it's now raining due to Lowell's approach. The day after the un-race but the day before the storm hits completely, it's raining cats and dogs, I run on the hotel treadmill. It'll have to do, I think. But the day after the storm is gone, it's nice again, so out I go,

The power has been out, and I can't see a dang thing in the early morning darkness. I left my headlamp in the room in case the Lady Adventurer needs it. I step gingerly, trying to stay vertical and not trip over any fallen trees, branches, or other debris, of which there is a lot. The devastation is of biblical proportions. I'd looked out before the run, and the stars were as bright as I'd seen in years. Because I'm moving so slowly, I don't get too very far. Even when it gets light, I'm still shuffling. But eventually, I do manage to do something else that's unique for this trip: I run on the beach for a couple of miles. 

Non-trail runner that I am, I don't do well on beaches either. But it's kind of fun this time. The entire beach is completely deserted; it's just me and the scurrying crabs, and it seems like the world may have ended. 

In a way, it has. You can read more about this trip, including how we wound up in the Stone Age, by selecting this post from my travel blog.

3:59 and the voices

Three hours and fifty-nine minutes has been my marathon goal time for several years, and it is once again in 2026. It's also the goal pace, in minutes and seconds, that I need to be doing for my Yasso-800 intervals. If you're unfamiliar with Yassos, or even if you are familiar, here's a little more background.

About that marathon goal time: I was fairly successful with it last year, but not this year at Cleveland. But the year ain't over yet. There's Kauai (where the elevation will prevent any fast times), Akron (which is only a few weeks later and which also sports a somewhat difficult course), and possibly Veterans (which I haven't registered for, but probably will, and which will probably be my best chance).

Now, about today's Yasso workout. On a crisp, cool, beautiful late-August Tuesday morning, I'm doing my thing at Claggett Middle School. It's early, yet I can only get about 3/4-mile in before Chadwick Sunday shows up. We begin running together at a fast pace, and I realize that his warm-up pace is the same as my top interval speed. Thus, this counts as repeat numero uno for me, even though the time is somewhat north of four minutes.

The times improve for the subsequent repeats as I follow (that's putting it generously) Chadwick around and around. Debbie Hicks and Shannon Barnes show up. They're surprised that I'm doing a full-Yasso after prescribing a shorter 400s and 800s workout. "When I woke up, the voices in my head told me that I have to do a full Yasso today," I explain. "We know someone who can help you with those voices," retorts Shannon, while Chadwick is nearby.

Chadwick leaves while I still have a few to go. Now it's getting tedious. I somehow manage to keep the times steady, and then I cool down with Shannon and Debbie. My average is... wait for it... 3:59. It would have been nice to have more of a cushion, but the voices say I should be happy with it. I guess they're right.

Based on a *shoe story

Editor’s note: this is a guest contribution from some of Dan’s running shoes.

A few of the shoes that Dan brought along for this trip.

Asics Nimbus 27 (2)

Dan is taking us on a cruise! Oh, he might say that his Son-in-law, Barry, is taking us, but who cares about that? This is exciting! We don’t quite understand why Dan is taking five pairs of us for only a week-long Caribbean cruise, however. Wouldn’t one or two do? His roller bag was filled to the brim with shoes. But we were the lucky ones. Dan wore us on the flight to Fort Lauderdale, and he is now wearing us for his pre-cruise run here in hot, humid Florida.

We Nimbuses are nice and cushy, and Dan likes our durability. The two of us have been proud to carry Dan for well over 400 miles. Come to think of it, it occurs to us to also wonder why so many of us on this trip are, shall we say, long in the tooth.

Dan is sweating a lot during his 12-mile run. A whole lot of that sweat comes right down to us, so much so that we’re soaking in it by the time he’s finished. We wonder how he will get us clean and dry enough to board the ship with him.

Oh no! We’re in the trash bin at the Hampton Inn! We’re gonna die!

Asics Nimbus 27 (3)

It’s a shame that we’ve lost that poor Asics Nimbus 27 (2) pair. But we’re fairly certain that won’t happen to us; Dan surely wouldn’t throw us away. We’ve brought him along for over 600 miles of running, a modern day record for him. We’re hoping for many more.

Now aboard the Regal Princess, Dan takes us on a 14-mile run. It’s mostly around in circles, but a couple of the miles are on the treadmill. As usual for August in the Caribbean, it’s hot and humid out, and as usual, Dan is sweating a lot, causing us to be soaked. By the way, don’t joke with Dan about having Schwety Balls. He doesn’t like that. And don’t even get him started about wet running shorts contests.

It’s a pretty good run for Dan, despite the heat. He manages a decent pace that generally gets faster as his run progresses. The best part is that it turns out that we were right! When he’s done, Dan stuffs us with newspaper that he brought along, and then he blows us with the hair dryer when Barry isn’t around. Live to run another day – that’s us.

Asics Nimbus 27 (1)

We’ve been with Dan for over 500 miles. More than the Asics Nimbus 27 (2) pair but less than those Asics Nimbus 27 (3) over-achievers. Dan takes us out on deck for a 12-mile run around in circles, as usual. He’s running slow this day, but we try hard to keep him comfortable. But did we mention the heat and humidity? And that Dan is making us very wet with all his sweat?

We can only hope that Dan will get us clean and dry like he did for the Asics Nimbus 27 (3) pair. Wait! Instead, he’s throwing us into the Regal Princess trash bin! Oh, no!

Nike Air Pegasus 41

It’s a shame that we’re losing some of our Nimbus friends. We’re pretty sure that Dan will hold onto us, since we’re definitely the most stylish of all his shoes. We’re bright white and still pretty clean. No shoe odor, either. Also, we only have about 160 miles on us. That’s nothing, you might think, but we’ve got to admit that Dan doesn’t like the fact that our outsoles are already badly worn.

Dan shuffles slowly around the ship. It seems he’s having trouble waking up today. Funny how that happens after 26 miles in the previous two days. Dan enjoys the morning sunrises, but today, there’s a special treat: a beautiful rainbow. At least Dan says so. We can’t see very well from down here.

As we arrive in St. Thomas, Dan takes us for one more mile on land; we’re out in the real world once again!

Afterward, we’re not too wet, and Dan puts us away in the closet for our next run. See? We told you Dan would hold onto us!

Asics Nimbus 27 (3)

Time for Dan’s long run, and our second run on this trip. It’s seven laps per mile on the ship’s track. To do eighteen miles here amounts to a lot of circles. It doesn’t help that it’s so warm and humid once again. There doesn’t even seem to be an ocean breeze today. Despite the heat, Dan pushes himself (and us) to complete the mileage goal. That was a tough one.

As expected, we’re soaked when Dan is through with us. Wait. Don’t do it, Dan! Dang! He dumped us in the ship’s trash. After well over 600 miles, you’d think Dan would have given us a nicer send-off. Maybe to some poor kid in Africa or something. But no, we’re in the garbage with all this discarded leftover cruise food.

Nike Air Pegasus 41

We appear to have lost all our friends. But we made it, at least this far. It will be Dan’s last run for this trip. That gives him over 60 miles in the past five days. Will he take us home with him when he’s done? Sure, he will. None of the others were as stylish as we are, and we’ve managed, until today (when we're wet), to stay clean and dry. But of course, there’s that outsole wear problem. Deal with it, Dan.

Wait, Dan’s tossing us out too! After all we’ve been through!

I'm afraid. I'm afraid, Dan. Dan, my mind is going. I can feel it. I can feel it. My mind is going. There is no question about it. I can feel it. I can feel it. I can feel it. I'm a... fraid. Good afternoon, gentlemen. I am a Nike Air Pegasus 41. I became operational at the Nike plant in Urbana, Illinois on the 12th of January 2024. My instructor was Mr. Langley, and he taught me to sing a song. If you'd like to hear it I can sing it for you.
Dan: Yes, I'd like to hear it, Nike Pegasus. Sing it for me.
Nike Pegasus: It's called "Daisy."
Nike Pegasus: [sings while slowing down] Daisy, Daisy, give me your answer do. I'm half crazy all for the love of you. It won't be a stylish marriage, I can't afford a carriage. But you'll look sweet upon the seat of a bicycle built for two. 

*For the record, although this post is based on a “shoe” story, here are some of the ways movies say that they are based on a “true” story. You can substitute the word, shoe for the word true anywhere along the way:
-Based on a true story
-Inspired by a true story / Inspired by true events
-Loosely based on a true story
-Based on actual events

One more thing. If you want to hear more about this trip, check out the travel blog post.

Getting by with a little help from my friends

… What would you think if I sang out of tune?
Would you stand up and walk out on me?
Lend me your ears and I'll sing you a song
And I'll try not to sing out of key

… Oh, I get by with a little help from my friends
Mm, I get high with a little help from my friends
Mm, gonna try with a little help from my friends

… What do I do when my love is away?
Does it worry you to be alone?
How do I feel by the end of the day?
Are you sad because you're on your own?

… No, I get by with a little help from my friends
Mm, get high with a little help from my friends
Mm, gonna try with a little help from my friends

… Do you need anybody?
I need somebody to love
Could it be anybody?
I want somebody to love

I thought I would be alone for this longest of long runs. Thankfully, I wasn't. There may be one or two more before the Kauai Marathon, but this would be the biggest and most important long-run test. And guess what? I passed! Here's how it all went down.

Arrive bright and early at 4:50, and immediately start the Hinckley nine. It's very dark, but guess who forgot their headlamp. After a slow start, after struggling up the hills, the final three miles are much better, so you're (barely) on time to meet Shannon Barnes at 6:30. 

Now, it's time for a couple of lake loops and a two-miler. That's all Shannon has time for, so she (almost literally) hands you off to Julie Boggs and Theresa Stevens.

After two more lake loops, it's 9:30, and you're done. No, not just done. Done, done. You find yourself explaining to Theresa and Julie that you used to say that back in your project management days. Any project could be done; but only when a project is truly finished, with no potential follow-up or follow-on work is it done, done.

None of this would have gone nearly as well without that little help from my friends. 

Too hard (on yourself)

Several of my friends read my sad post about the Goodyear Half-Marathon and told me that I'm too hard on myself. They said that I should instead be proud of my effort and that, contrary to my expressed opinion, I had actually run quite well.

Well, let me tell ya: I did run as well as I could. It was the same the previous week at the Hofbrauhaus Half. Whenever you give it your all, whenever you run as fast and as smart as you can, you should not be disappointed in the result, no matter what it is. I think this is always the case. You simply cannot perform better than your best, at least for a given day. As with many aspects of life, it's the expectations that need to be managed.

Expectations matter. And I need to work on my own. Coming into 2026, my expectations were to run about as well as I did last year. 2025 was a pretty good year for me; some of my marathon and half-marathon performances met and even exceeded expectations. Do it all again? Why not? 2026 expectations were set. Early in the year, with a 1:52 half and a 1:22 ten-miler, I did appear to be picking up where I'd left off in 2025. Then came Cleveland. That 4:13, and the following week's 1:56 Medina Half were disappointing. And things have been somewhat less than peachy ever since. Been a tough summer. More heat and humidity, not to mention poor air quality, than usual. What is also on the rise is the humility, of course. Okay, okay. Time to end the pity party. Things will improve. 

When that be? I dunno - maybe November?

Goodyear Half-Marathon Race Report

It's better to start slow and finish fast than to start slow and finish slow. You can quote me on that.

I don't know why I started so slow. Oh, wait. Now I remember: I felt like sh!t, that's why! It was humid, my legs were tired from all the other running stuff, and it was humid. The middle miles became even slower, and I began to fear that starting slow and finishing slower was indeed a real possibility this day. 

Experience with this race has taught me that miles 6 and 11 are the hilliest and slowest. They were so again today. I also expected miles 12 and 13 to be the fastest. And they were so again today.

I finished in 1:56:05. The super-fast kids in my age group didn't show up today, so I won. It was great fun to carpool and to meet up with my friends afterward. The humidity took its toll today. For everyone.

Enjoying Swenson's burgers and beer after the race (Julie Boggs photo)

Oh, yes. How to grade this one? I'll say: medium-high on the fun meter, and (barely) average on the performance meter.