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.

Wacky Wednesday Wunning

Let's see. Run a half-marathon on Sunday. Ten easy for Monday. Tuesday Track is Back. Thursday and Friday ought to be fairly easy days with relatively low mileage. Of course, the plan is to run half-marathon numero dos on Saturday. Did we leave anything out? 

Oh yeah, Wednesday. Given that it's absolutely necessary to get a long run in this week, despite the two halfs, Wednesday is the day. Nuthin' too goofy. Just get eighteen easy-does-it miles in. Then coast it in for the rest of the week.

Except it doesn't work out that way. A couple of slow miles before the gang shows up at the Square. Then a fast pace, at least for some of us, for eleven and a half miles. And finally, four and a half more. That's where the struggle occurs. 

Struggle, Dan does. Those four and a half miles up to the track and around and back take over an hour. It's hot, and Dan struggles mightily indeed. Perhaps he should take it easy now. Time to start coastin'.

2026 Hofbrauhaus Half-Marathon Race Report

A warm-up jog isn't necessary today (it's 75 and ludicrously humid), but Dan does one anyway. Some of it is with Larry Orwin, and they begin the Hofbrauhaus Half-Marathon together. Larry gradually pulls away after a mile or so.

Larry and Dan just starting the journey

For his part, Dan's start is a little too fast, despite falling behind Larry so soon (that was expected, anyway). Last year, Dan had done extremely well at this race. This year, he only hopes to do "well". After the first few fast miles, he settles into a more manageable pace. The course is great - mostly out Chester Ave. to 101st St., then North on MLK Jr. Dr. through the Cultural Gardens and Rockefeller Park. It's out and back. Dan reaches halfway in around 56 minutes.

He passes a few people on the way back, but as much as he would like to speed up, he mostly just maintains the same pace. Mile 10 is the slowest, as there are a couple of hills to climb. Miles 11-13 are back in the 8:30 to 8:45 range.

Dan finishes in 1:52:36. His splits are only slightly positive. He learns that he's only second of two in his ancient age group. It appears that some kid named Brent Stewart just turned 70, and is now terrorizing this age group, just as he used to do to Larry's younger cohort.

Because of the beer and brat at Hofbrauhaus, Dan will rate this one medium-high on the fun meter and (since he's reasonably happy with his overall time) also medium-high on the performance meter.

Larry, Old Friend Pam Rickard, and Dan

Your people

During a past visit to Daughter Valerie's place in Chicago, she went for an early-morning run with me. As we emerged from the tunnel under Lake Shore Drive, she said, "Dad, now we're going to see... your people." She emphasized those last two words, and in the next few seconds, I found out why. There, along the lakeshore trail, were literally thousands of runners.

It wasn't totally unexpected; I've run along the lake there many times, before and after her statement. But the sheer enormity of it all still does not cease to amaze me.

And here's the other thing that amazes me. How come, when I run with my people like I did today, I am the slowest runner out there? I didn't pass one person. Not one. But how many passed me? Don't ask; I can't count that high.

But it's okay. It wasn't an 'A' run for me; I've already had a pretty good week. This was just a little jog to get out there in the early morning sunshine. Along with my people.

Just a few of my people

I found a quiet moment for this selfie

Furious but Foolish Fartlek

Sometimes things don't turn out quite as expected. And that just might be okay.

Failure to plan is a plan to fail. I do not want to fail today, but I do have a backup plan. Working backwards, I need to be at Pine Hollow at 8:15 to see my friends go by in the Burning River Marathon. This means being done with my long (18-mile) run on the Towpath in Peninsula at 8:00 sharp. Since I want this to be a long run, I have to start at 5:00 and maintain a 10-minute pace or better if there are to be any stops. With that early start, I have to be well packed and ready to roll super-duper early.

I pull into the Lock 29 parking area at 4:59. Mine is the only car this early. I make a bathroom stop, so I'm already behind in my timing. I start my run, and I realize right away that I left my headlamp at home. You kind of need one when the Towpath Trail is as pitch-dark as it is now. Summer's long daylight hours are beginning to shorten, and I should have known that it won't be light for another hour. Oh well, I think. I used to run in total darkness in the days before I had a headlamp.

By the time I hit my first mile split, I know very well that this run will not go according to plan. I'm moving at walking pace, trying not to trip or wander into the weeds on the sides of the trail. Already, my plan for this to be a long run is out the window. I simply won't be able to finish in time. Now, I need to figure out what is possible.

Right away, I consider the facts: I have already done a long run this week and don't truly need another. And I already have enough miles for the week to make it up to 70, so long as I do at least 15 today. So guess my new goal. Yes, 15 it is.

But even 15 becomes a challenge as my pace, though improving, is still much too slow. And factor in a couple more pit stops. Will I even make my Plan B goal?

As it begins to get lighter, another aspect of this run creeps into my already rattled brain: I'm enjoying this. I don't get down to the Towpath enough. It's wonderful. I've got the trail, the river, the surrounding hills, and the quiet. All I hear are my own footfalls, and it's fantastic.

By the time it's lighter still, I'm reaching my turnaround point, Botzum Trailhead. At this point, there are other runners about. It turns out that this small section is part of the Burning River course, and I spot more and more activity. There's an aid station at the trailhead, and runners are coming and going. I don't think the BR Marathon comes through here, so these must be the 50 and 100-mile runners. I try to stay out of everyone's way as I loop around and head back up North. Also at this point, my pace finally improves to where I thought it should be: under ten minutes per mile.

At this point, with nearly eight to go, I have to maintain this pace in order to get done in time. But just to jazz it up a little more, I decide to make this a form fartlek run. That means running the first half of each mile at tempo pace, whilst concentrating on my running form. The second half is at an easier pace. Guess what? This works out. I'm cooking with gas now.

My run takes another unexpected turn as I get about halfway back and encounter more BR activity. It turns out that the area around Hunt Farm is also on the course. This time, the runners I see coming the other way include my BR Marathon friends. I say hi to several of them and I let them know that I will see them in a little while.

I complete my run on time, so even though the run didn't turn out as expected, I can still consider it a (semi) success.

Afterward, I cheer my friends on at Pine Hollow and at Kendall Lake. It's fun to spectate once in a while. But of course I'm a little jealous. 

Not enough to actually do a trail run, mind you.

The Peninsula Nite Club, aka Winking Lizard
It's in the middle of all the fun associated with BR and also my run today