A Bright Spot in the Nighttime

Before the breathin' air is gone
Before the sun is just a bright spot in the night-time
Out where the rivers like to run
I stand alone and take back somethin' worth rememberin'

Those are some of the lyrics to Out in the Country, by Three Dog Night. Here in Northeast Ohio, we're experiencing this bright spot in the nighttime phenomenon. The toxic smoke from Canadian wildfires has caused our air quality to be at its historical worst ever. This has a profound effect on any outdoor work or activities, including, of course, running. The air quality became progressively worse by the minute during yesterday morning's run, and I was forced to cancel today's. It was back to the mill for me.

The good news is that my injuries appear to be in the past, and all I need to do now is to regain my fitness. That's easier said than done, but it's better than being injured. 

Regaining fitness is beginning to become more important though. Besides the two half-marathons scheduled for August, and September's Akron Marathon, I've now added another challenging event: The Kauai Marathon. 

Egads. Challenging is right.

A Midsummer Night's Run

It's actually a midsummer morning, but A Midsummer Morning's Run doesn't quite have the same ring to it. It is still dark, so there's that. 

Dan heads South on Substation Road. In the early morning gloom, he spots fireflies in the woods and a shooting star up above. Even though it's a Monday and he just did a long run last Thursday, he's going for 18+ today as well. But that will be tough at this slow pace.

He reaches his Decision point, the intersection of Substation and Sleepy Hollow. From here, a left turn will take him on his nine-mile course. Right or straight are for his two eleven-mile ones or his sixteen-mile course. Nine miles would be half of 18, and it would provide the opportunity to complete the second half of the run on the mill. He turns left.

These semi-rural roads can be great for running. As long as there isn't much traffic. Unfortunately, today's early-morning commuters did not receive the memo instructing them to remain off the roads for a few more hours. All this traffic is the main reason Dan rarely ventures on these courses anymore. He thought he could beat it today, but that's not happening. Early on Sunday mornings may be the last hope.

Dan manages to complete the slow nine-plus miles, but now he's still got nine to go. It's light out, and it's getting hotter. After an intermediate coffee and banana, onto the mill he goes. 

He does nine-plus more, so count it as nineteen for the day. It's not his best or proudest moment. But it's done.

Long

For the first time in nearly two months, I managed to do a long run today. It wasn't pretty, but it's DONE.

Daily running

Want further details? Here are a few: I started early, and it was already warm and humid. I did around 6 miles at the track, then 5.5 with friends at the Square, and then 6ish more back at the track. Even though it wasn't particularly fast, it was fairly steady, and I finished fairly well. Now, we start the big push.

Big Heart Update

I posted about a brain study that I was in, where the finding that I had an enlarged heart. Further testing confirmed that my right ventricle was dilated, and my right atrial cavity was severely dilated. Yesterday, I finally got to see a Sports Cardiologist.

After further confirming all the test results, she reviewed my history and lifestyle. Then she explained a whole lot, ending with (and I do believe these were her exact words): "It's the running, stupid."

Not really. She did actually say that my heart is just fine. In fact, I should keep doing what I'm doing.

I was gonna anyway.

Today's Tremendous Tuesday Track Tempo Trot

Been a while. It's warm and extremely humid as Dan hits the track this Tuesday with his friends. He warms up a little, not that he needs it in this heat. How much of a warm-up? Oh, six miles. If you said Dan was very much warmed up by the time he began his tempo trot, you wouldn't be wrong. Everyone else is wrapping up their workouts. But Dan begins his, and lo and behold, Dan becomes almost like the Dan of Old. He does four miles at a decent, though not too fast, pace.

The pain is nearly gone. The goal now is to get the fitness back slowly. Very slowly.

2026 Medina Twin Sizzler "race" report

Photo: Julie Boggs

Today's "race" wasn't bad. I do the Medina Twin Sizzler nearly every year, and it always sizzles with fun. The Square is alive with activity, and all my friends are there. I ran the 5K very slowly, and the 10K a little faster. That's something that never happened before.

Photo: Shannon Barnes

Although even the slightly speedier 10K was slow overall, I am happy to say that I managed to not hurt myself. It was relatively pain-free. This is highly encouraging.

Now, all I have to do is get back into shape. That's no small task.

Photo: Julie Boggs

Roscoe Ewing Park Trail

Dan commences his fourth sojourn down the Roscoe Ewing Park Trail. He had gone out and back with the 5:30 group, with the 6:00 group (there was some overlap among the runners), with one person after all that to go back to pick up the walkers, and finally, this time, alone. Why is he doing this in the ridiculous 81-degree early-morning heat? Because he wants his run to be in the double-digits, of course.

Dan knows that you have been wondering why he can no longer manage to run long distances. He would answer that the reason he can't run eighteen miles is that he can't do ten miles. The nagging injuries, of which he has many, keep him well under double-digits, and those used to be Dan's standard (almost-always) daily distance. Lately, unfortunately, five miles is the new ten.

Today will be different, thinks Dan. He will get his double-digits, even if it kills him and all his running friends. (Well, okay; not them. They were smart enough to get done and go home.) Dan shuffles back to the Square. His watch tells him that he did 10.1 miles.

This bodes well for a couple of reasons. He has the Medina Twin Sizzler coming up in two days. It will entail running a 5K and a 10K in this hot weather. Dan now believes that he may be capable of running the nine-plus-mile distance. It also bodes well because Dan managed to not be in an excessive amount of pain today, not even for the final miles. Will his good luck continue? Stay tuned.

 

The collection

When a photographer wants you to buy photos from a race, they provide proofs that you can choose from. In the old days before digital photography, they would send small proofs in the mail. Although I only bought a few photos, I kept all the proofs. Until now. Now, they're going in the trash.

But I still have all my bibs. ALL my bibs.

Running through the decades, on the sixes

It occurred to me that this knee injury is similar to one that I had in 2006. So I looked at my blog posts to remind myself of all the gory details. More on this exercise in a bit. First, let's take a look back at some other things that were happening in other past decades.

• 70 years ago, in 1956, I wasn't running much, except maybe a little bit around the yard. How could I? I was three. 
• 60 years ago, in 1966, I was running, but only enough to get by in football and baseball. At 13, sports were my life. I think I liked track and field, but wasn't yet ready to participate.
• 50 years ago, in 1976, I was indeed running. The running boom was happening all around, and I was in the thick of it. But I was only just getting started. To the best of my recollection, my first serious road race was not until the Johnnycake Jog race the following year.
• 40 years ago, in 1986, I had already run a few marathons, and having made the move to Michigan, was just beginning to run regularly again and train for my next one, which would occur in 1987.
• 30 years ago, in 1996, I was pretty much at my peak, running-wise. Interesting that this occurred around age 43 for me. I ran my third-ever ultra, which wasn't a big deal, and I ran four marathons (two of them under three hours), which was. The last one, a 2:59 at Toe-to-Tow, precursor to the Towpath Marathon, was the last time I ever broke three hours. For that and other reasons, it remains one of my most memorable.
• 20 years ago, in 2006, I was also having a good year. Until I wasn't. In April, I ran the Boston Marathon in 3:09. It was my best time in five years. Now 53, I truly believed I had a chance to break three hours for the first time since that Toe-to-Tow race, ten years past. This time, my focus was on the Columbus Marathon in October. Hold this thought for one more moment, so I can discuss 2016. I'll be back.
• 10 years ago, in 2016, I was into ultras, in a big way. Although I'd done one marathon, Landis Loonies, my focus was on the four ultras that I did: Green Jewel 50K, Rock the Ridge 50-mile, Mugrage Park 6-Hour, and Buckeye Woods 50K. Of those, Rock the Ridge was the most unique and memorable.

Now, let's get back to 2006, shall we? I had run the Tahoe Triple the prior year. It was three challenging marathons in three consecutive days. To train for it, I ran long runs on consecutive training days. During the peak of my Columbus training block, I decided to run two 20-milers on back-to-back days. Toward the end of the second one, I felt a sudden sharp pain behind my right knee. And just like that, it was the end of my sub-3 hopes. I ran a painful 3:18 in C-bus and never managed to get under 3:10 again.

Today, I decided to look up the blog post about that incident. I never figured out exactly what caused the pain, but at the time, I speculated that it was a torn meniscus. Whatever it was then, I believe it's the same thing now. 

The good news is that I did not stop running entirely, and the pain did eventually subside... after many months.

Acme Fresh Market Foundation 8k Race Report

"Oof." Every morning, whilst preparing for my run, I travel to the basement to get ready. It's where my running clothes and stuff live. That first step back up the stairs has been painful since I've been battling the old sciatica, or whatever this thing is. Such is the case today, but the good news is that things have improved a bit of late. This week's running hasn't been quite so awful.

The Acme Fresh Market Foundation 8k sounded like a good idea. It's part of the Akron Marathon race series; the other two races are the Goodyear Half and the Akron Marathon Full. Why not do this third one? And (the icing on the cake), everybody, even my friends, is doing it. It's also one of the many, many races I registered for before I began battling these injuries. I wouldn't be here if I hadn't already paid.

After my warmup jog, I bump into Julie Boggs and Theresa Wright. We begin the race together, and we stay close to one another throughout the first half. I'm feeling okay, but those two gradually pull away - they're speeding up, and I'm barely holding my pace. That pace is slow for a 5-mile race for me, but it's faster than I've run in well over a month. If I can just maintain it, I'll be able to call this a decent race.

"Oof." At the 4-Mile Marker, I feel a sudden sharp pain in my Left Calf. It slows me down from about 8:30 pace to around 14-minute pace. I'm horribly hobbling, and the other runners are passing me like crazy. I'd not been too far behind Julie and Theresa, but now those two are long gone. This calf thing is yet another injury that I've been dealing with. I'm sure it's related to the sciatica, but it is on the other side from my painful hip. Suffice it to say that everything hurts, but the calf wins the prize for this day.

The results are painful as well. I finished in 47:11, 7th in my age group. Had this been a 4-mile race, I'd be a somewhat-happy-camper. Mile 5 changed all that. Instead, call me a mostly-unhappy-camper.

Something to write home about

A month or two ago, if I did not run ten or more miles, it was something to write home about. That was then. Now, three and a half weeks into whatever this problem of mine is, I haven't been able to crack double digits at all. Until today. I did it, but it was only on my mill. And it wasn't pretty at all. I crashed for the final two miles and only shuffled it in to make my goal. So here I am, writing home about running ten miles.

Yesterday, I had my best run in a very long time. It was with friends at Brunswick Lake for six miles. I actually felt good, and we maintained a halfway decent pace - something I've also been struggling with. I was highly encouraged. But I should also point out that I took a Vitamin I (aka Ibuprofen) the previous evening. I only take them once in a very great while because there are some good reasons to avoid taking too many. How many is too many? I wish I knew.

Today's treadmill trot more or less started out where yesterday's run left off. And I was doing fine today as well. Until I wasn't. At about mile 8, I had to drastically slow down and struggle my way home. 

I have another group run planned for tomorrow morning. And I'm taking some more of my favorite vitamin tonight.

And yet. Here you are.

"How are you, Dan?" It's Rita Annes, another early morning runner from my Hood, coming up from behind. I've known Rita for years, and we occasionally bump into one another on the run. My slow shuffle is ludicrously slow this morning, so Rita has no trouble catching me. 

"Not so great; I'm hurting," I answer. 

"I can see that," says Rita, with a measure of sympathy in her voice. "And yet..." she says as she passes by. "Here you are!" That last bit was said with a good amount of respect and admiration. I'll take it. But I wish I could feel more deserving.

What I am feeling is pain. The days and days of rest are not helping, at least so far. I've said this before, so please excuse the repetition. It's not just his calf that's hurting; it's everything else as well.  Everything - every muscle, bone, tendon, brain cell, etc.

I feel like I'm running a marathon every day. Whether or not I even get out for a slow shuffle.

Hey, maybe this will help

 

Extra strength training and stretching? Sure, let's give it a shot.

Two consecutive rest days and other reduced mileage? That has to work.

Soaking in a hot Epsom salt bath? Certainly won't hurt.

Kinesio Tape? That will be the icing on the cake.

After all that, Dan thinks that perhaps today will be the day; the day that he begins the long road back to healthy, effective running. He's fairly determined to make this one a double-digit run day. Until a month ago, double-digit days were fairly standard. Now, it would be an accomplishment.

Dan arrives at the Square forty minutes early. This way, he can get four miles in prior to the six he will do with his friends at six (a.m.). Except he doesn't. He only shuffles around and uses the portable toilet and only gets two in. That's okay. He will run the six and then finish up with two extra miles when they all leave. No problem.

The group run begins with some amount of pain. Dan tells anyone who will listen that it's his calf, or perhaps something else behind his left knee. Dan does not tell his friends that he's got another problem, too. It's not just his calf that's hurting; it's everything else as well.  Everything - every muscle, bone, tendon, brain cell, etc. 

After a couple of increasingly painful miles, Dan has to slow to a walk. His friends graciously decide to walk with him instead of doing their own running. Dan is truly overwhelmed by their sacrifice, but he feels bad to have made them slow down. He's been doing a lot of slowing-of-friends lately.

What's next?? Dan wishes he knew.  The bottom line for today is that none of the above actually helped. He may need medical help. And/or possibly more time off. Dan is concerned that at his advanced age, he has to wonder whether a full recovery is still a possibility.

When he runs, he flies

This is another oldie that I just came across. It's from the early 1990s.

Picture this. A beautiful country setting of a dirt road with some woods on one side and some open fields and an old wooden fence on the other. Way off in the distance a lone runner slowly approaches. What could be more serene?

But wait a minute. That runner is suddenly showing some very strange behavior. He is alternately speeding up and slowing down, and even weaving from side to side on the road. He is clapping his hands high in the air and slapping the top of his head. Now he is running fast and then suddenly stopping and ducking, only to start running again. WHAT is going on here?

That was me. I'm not always quite that crazy, but the deer flies were after me. Welcome to summertime in rural Michigan.

Now I live in a nice, civilized place called Farmington Hills. Despite the name, there aren't a lot of farms here, and not a whole lot of wooded or other rural areas either. Deer flies are not welcome here. Thus, I don't look quite so funny when I run near home. It's when I run in other parts of Michigan that they get me.

My friend Brian lives in a somewhat more rural place called Oakland Township. Just as I've learned not to wear new shoes when running up there with him ("Time to turn down this muddy path, here"), I've given up expressing my requests to stay away from the woods ("Just this one dirt road" or "The only way back is on Paint Creek Trail"). But once they find us he becomes as miserable as I am. At least when there are two or more of us, we can slap at each other. This may look a little funny, too.

I am beginning to form a theory that the farther I get from Farmington Hills, the more flies there are. I've had occasion to run in the Upper Peninsula a few times. It is hard for me to believe that there are people who run up there all the time. Maybe they're immune to the flies. One of my runs began as one of the most beautiful, right along Lake Superior. It ended as one of the ugliest, as I discovered after one mile that I was literally covered with flies. After I turned to head back home, I may have broken the world record for the mile. I didn't stop to ask them whether they were black flies or deer flies.

All of this leads me to write a letter to the flies: Deer Flies, Please go away.

Slightly belated 1997 Ohio-Michigan Run Race Report

Sorry for the belated race report. Purely by chance, I came across this old file - a report from the

1997 Ohio-Michigan Run. 

I had won one race in my entire life. That was a 440 Yard run during 8th-grade track.
In these recent (and much later) years, I've unrealistically yearned to win another one.
The Ohio/Michigan Run consists of a Marathon, a 10K, and a 5K. All of the runs
begin in Ohio and go across to Michigan and back to Ohio. The 5K and 10K
are fast and competitive, with large fields.

The Marathon is different. About 65 of us lined up for the 6:00 AM start that July
morning. The humidity and warm temperatures ensure that only die-hards would be out

to do such a foolhardy event. The course consists of 8
and 1/2 laps of the 5K course, which is a simple out-and-back run on one road.
Runners cross the Ohio/Michigan State Line 18 times.

My goal was to run each 5K in 21 minutes and the last 1.4-mile loop in 9 or
10 minutes, to just break three hours. Never has a race gone so completely
according to plan; I did, in fact, manage to average just about 21 minutes per
lap. At halfway, I was in fifth place, about 4 minutes behind the leader.
It is really interesting to be able to see all of the other competitors throughout
the race. It even makes for good camaraderie, as many of us would yell 

encouragement to each other as we went by.

As a running mate dropped off a bit, I gradually began to pass the runners
between myself and the leader. His lead slowly dwindled, decreasing
by around one minute per lap, until only one minute separated us
for the last 5K, and then only 1/2 minute for the last 1/2 lap. After the final
turnaround,  I could finally see him ahead of me. I was closing fast,
running at full-tilt, but just couldn't get to him in before he crossed the finish line.
Never before have I wished that a marathon was longer, but I only needed
another 200 yards or so to have passed him.

My time was 2:58:00, a PR by about 14 seconds! The winner was just seconds
ahead of that. Could I have run just a bit faster to make up the difference? I've
searched my conscience, and the answer is no; I had given it all I had.

Until it wasn't

Laura Hutson and I started on Lester Rail Trail at 5:00 AM. We spotted a sparkle of fireflies (first of the season, and yes, it's correct - I looked it up), an indigo bunting, and the usual cast of critters. Sharon Emmert joined us later on.

Although the pace wasn't particularly speedy, we were moving along just fine, and my strained/pulled/torn calf/back-of-knee was feeling halfway decent for a change. Until it wasn't. I had been keeping up with those fast ladies. Until I wasn't. I had been enjoying the morning. Until I wasn't. The result? Eight decent miles, and some indecent ones.

All in all, it was a good run today. Until it wasn't. 

The Big Push

 "Gentlemen, next week starts the big push."

Vince Lombardi and Jerry Kramer, winning the Super Bowl

After the Green Bay Packers won the very first Super Bowl, Jerry Kramer wrote a book about the experience. It's called Instant Replay, because, as an offensive lineman, Kramer never received much press or recognition until he made a famous block that enabled Quarterback Bart Starr to score a touchdown on a quarterback sneak to win the Championship that led to the first Super Bowl. The play was shown over and over, and cognizance and fame finally did come Kramer's way.

The 1968 book was widely read and quite influential. It's been called one of the best books ever written about football, or even all sports. What struck me most was the reverence, respect, and fear the players (big, robust men that they were) had for coach Vince Lombardi.

My most vivid recollection is this: Summer training for the upcoming Fall season was hard work. After another exhausting week, the spent players were in the locker room, too tired to even move on to the showers, much less dress up to leave for the day. They didn't want to even think about any further practice. Coach Lombardi enters and walks through the room. As he is about to exit, he announces, "Gentlemen, next week starts the big push."

Even though I read the book about 56 years ago, I still think about this in relation to my training. I can be working hard and (barely) get through a difficult week of training, but it must be said, "next week starts the big push."

Through and thru (and threw)

This week starts the big push. Try as I might, I cannot find a thorough description of what I mean by the big push. I've used the phrase more than once in the past, but I don't think I've explained its origin. That is going to change with my very next post. But not this one. For this one, I will stick to the topic: to describe mostly what's germane to today's run.

Your back/hip pain has subsided. Now, all you have to do is "run a lot" to get back into shape. (This is where the big push comes in.) A wise runner once said, "Do not increase volume and intensity at the same time (during a training cycle)." Good thing we don't pay attention to these wise guys.

Your weigh-in goes fairly well: 160 is about as good as one can expect these days.

You open a box of brand-new Nike Pegasus 41 trainers. You try them on. They feel great!

You shuffle over to Brunswick Middle School. Most speedwork occurs at Claggett Middle School, but since no one else would be showing up, it was preferable to be able to run from home. The shuffle pace is extremely slow, but that's okay.

You begin your 800s. How many will you do? Ten would be great, but since you're just getting back on your feet, any number from five to eight will do.

How fast will you do them? Until recently, the goal had been to do all under four minutes. The last few speed sessions haven't been so spectacular, however. Today, any decent pace will do. 

The first three are somewhat slower than four minutes, but you're unbothered. It feels good to run (fairly) fast, regardless of what the watch says.

Now comes the fourth. The first lap is your fastest yet; it's under two minutes - finally! Just as you begin the second lap, the pull/painful strain occurs in the tendon (or whatever it is) behind your left knee. Ouch!

And just like that, you're done. Done for the run for sure; for the week? The month? The year? Don't know, but it's discouraging.

I had been "training through" the back injury. Now, I have another one to do the same with: this knee thing. I guess you can say that I threw it out.

A weak back? When did you get it?

"Oh, about a week back."

Sorry for the old Vaudeville joke. My dad was a Vaudeville performer, and he had them in spades. To wit:

Patient: "Doc, it hurts when I raise my arm (or move my leg forward) like this."
Doctor: "Then don't do that."
Patient: "Doc, I have this pain in my hip."
Doctor: "Did you ever have this before?"
Patient: "Yes."
Doctor: "Well, you've got it again."

The good news is that my back/hip pain has improved. I have been stretching my lower back and strengthening my core. That, and taking a couple of days off, I believe, have helped.

It only hurts when I move my leg forward

It's unfortunate that moving a leg forward is a critical success factor for running. And walking. And climbing stairs. It appears that the general pain and soreness I've been experiencing during recent runs has coalesced into sciatica or something similar. These recent runs have become more and more painful, so much so that I took today off. It's the first off-day in over a month. Pretty drastic, eh?

This is all a bit of a shame for several reasons. 

1) I should be in peak condition now - in the past, when I've peaked for a marathon, my best running often came a couple of weeks after the big event. That's where I thought I might be these days. It ain't happening.

2) The weather has been absolutely gorgeous. I love to run on cool, crisp days like the ones we've been having. But it's hard to love your run when you're in so much pain.

3) I'm getting sympathy from my friends. I understand that this is out of love and concern for Dear Old Dan, but I'd much rather have their admiration for my greatness. (This is a kind of a joke, you know.) But even though I have so much trouble keeping up, it's still good to be with them. After Friday's failed attempt at a long run on Lester, I ran with Dave Gajewski and Larry Orwin on the Towpath, and then with Kelly Parker and Debbie Hicks on the Chippewa Inlet Trail.

I just hope I'm not on the wagon too much longer.

Chippewa Inlet Trail

Vitamin I and inflammation

Today's long Lester run was going to be a challenge. Eighteen usually isn't so tough, yet I knew this one would be. You see, I've been mighty sore lately. Mighty sore. Ever since the fortnight-ago Cleveland Marathon, every muscle and joint screams at me for any and every little movement. This is expected for a day or three after a race, but not two weeks. Such soreness is compounded when one runs another race (the Medina Half-Marathon) six days hence. 

Now, six days after that, the cumulated soreness has only gotten worse. Yesterday I ran the usual ten miles, and then hiked three at Hinckley, and I was hurtin' for certain. In order to recover enough to run long today, I took three Vitamin I (aka Ibuprofen) tablets. This is more than I've taken in years and years; I don't even take a single one very often. But I felt I had to reduce the inflammation. 

It worked... But only for a while. I felt decent and maintained a pretty good pace with the group for the first twelve miles. Then most of them were done, and it was just me and Shannon Barnes for the last part. That last part was increasingly painful. I suppose last night's Vitamin I was wearing off. Although it's possible that I may have been able to shuffle or walk another two, Shannon and I decided to call it quits at sixteen. 

Here's the problem: the week ain't over yet. I'm scheduled to run on the Towpath with my friends Larry Orwin and Dave Gajewski tomorrow, and possibly Hinckley on Sunday. Woah is me.

2026 Medina Half-Marathon Race Report

When you're slow and you don't know it, you run most of the first six miles with the 1:55 pace group, thinking that the pace is easy and maintainable. The damp, cool weather ain't too awful. But then you notice that each time you slow for a hill or an aid station, they get farther and farther ahead.

When you're slow and you don't know it, training partner Shannon Barnes comes up from behind around halfway, and you try mightily to stay with her, but she floats away - far away - before the mid-race conversation is completed.

When you're slow and you don't know it, your friend John Hnat comes up from behind around mile 10, and you begin another conversation that also gets cut off as this friend floats away as well. 

When you're slow and you don't know it, you think, at least mile 13 is downhill, and you should be able to smoke everyone around you, and you sort of do, except for Julie Boggs' son, Ben, who manages to run his final mile much faster than you.

When you're slow and you don't know it, you finish in 1:56 and change (winning your age group), and you may as well be happy about it. It beats being sad.

The Medina Half is the race where everybody knows your name. It's great to see all your friends there in their native environment. It's also great when your wife and daughters show up to cheer you on.

Photo: Veronica Dancer

Plan C

Last week, whilst obsessing about the weather forecast for the Cleveland Marathon, I began to consider a Plan B. The thought process was sorta like this: if things don't go so well for your 'A' race, run another one soon, while you're still in good shape.

Yeah, that sounds good, but what if 1) things do indeed not go so well, but 2) you are slso so beat up that you don't even want to consider some other Plan B event? That means it's time for Plan C.

What's Plan C, you ask? Damned if I know.

I do have the Akron Marathon in September. Not to mention the Medina Half tomorrow. For that latter one, I'm still beat up, and the weather looks bad once again (rain , not heat this time).

Cleveland Marathon Race Report

They can't all be gems. I am finding myself saying that more and more these days. Especially today.

After 13.1 miles (in ~1:56), I was already doing the marathon shuffle.

After 18 miles (about 2:41), I was in death-march mode.

At about 20 miles (around 3:03), I was starting to re-examine my life choices.

It would have been a good day to have someone suggest going to breakfast after the Half. I'd been running much of the first 12 miles with Eileen Meisler, and that part hadn't gone too poorly. I was jealous, however, when she and the other Half-Marathoners peeled off to finish, whilst we Marathoners had to soldier on. That's when it began to get hotter and hotter. Although there were some nice, shady sections, the heat just kept building.

Despite all the Gatorade, gels, and salt-sticks, that heat got to me. The entire second half was awful, especially the last 10K. I suppose it could have been worse, as it has been for a few of the past Cleveland Marathons, but it was pretty bad today.

I finished in 4:13. I'd been hoping for sub-4. It wasn't in the cards today. Although they interviewed me at the finish line ("You may have won your age group. You are an inspiration to us all!"), I later learned that I was second, not first, in my ancient age group.

To add insult to injury, I became the proud recipient of a parking ticket when I got back to my car in the 81F heat.

Thanks to Larry Orwin for coming downtown to witness my exciting finish!

Photo credit: Larry Orwin

More on Plan B

Temperatures be like, 55, 55, 55, <<all month long>>, then suddenly 85 on the day of the race. Weather can have a profound impact on marathon performance, and this Sunday, I'm afraid, will be no exception. Most of us don't get to run too many marathons throughout the year, and we need to train for months to run one. Thus, it's particularly concerning to see a forecast such as the one we have for this weekend.

By the way, there's a typo in the post title. It should read, Moron Plan B. There. That's better.

Dan, what do you mean by Plan B, you ask? Excellent question. As I mentioned in a previous post, Plan B is for times when your Plan A Marathon doesn't go quite as well as planned, and you want a second chance to run a decent marathon whilst you're still in marathon shape. This is not to say that I'm in the very best marathon shape possible right now. But since everything's relative, I believe I can say that I just might be the best I've been in a while.

Here are a couple of my candidates for a Plan B. They come shortly after the Cleveland Marathon.

MISH Waterfront Marathon, June 6 in Gladstone, Michigan.

The Maratime Marathon, June 7 in Manitowoc, Wisconsin. 

They both sound nice, but they're a fur piece. I guess I'll wait until after Sunday's Cleveland Marathon to decide what to do.

Peek and Peak

Five days out from the Cleveland Marathon, I peeked at the weekend forecast. The weather is important to me, because I am peaking for this race and I want it to be a good one.

Alas, it does not look so good: the high for the day is now forecasted to be a toasty 81. This wouldn't be quite so bad if it came along in the summer, when we're used to training in warm weather, but not when it's been well below average for weeks and weeks. Those cool morning temperatures have felt pretty good. 81 will not.

I should have had a Plan B. Oftentimes, I do. For example, last fall, I ran the Columbus Marathon, where the weather was bad, and as a result, my time was slow. My Plan B race came two weeks later at the Veterans Marathon. I ran a little better at that one. But this time, there is no Plan B; it's do or die in Cleveland, probably the latter. 

There's been a whole lot of yin and yang this season. After Sunday's decent race, yesterday was a slow and easy day. Today's track workout wasn't bad, though. After a cold start, my friends and I ran the 10 x 400 5K workout, and I was reasonably happy with my run. After they all left, I was alone on the track once again. 

But not totally alone. My shadow joined me, and I was happy to have the company. He needs to get into better shape, though.

Dan and his shadow

Moms Rock 5K

A wardrobe malfunction can have many possible causes. 

One possible cause is this: you put on some tights that you haven't warn for three years and you wouldn't be normally wearing tights when it's fifty degrees but since you will be walking around the zoo all day after the race, you figure you should wear something that works for both running and walking around but you learn that the waistband elastic of the tights is shot but you can keep them up by tying the drawstring, so of course the knot comes undone and your tights are falling down at about the two-mile mark, causing you to stop and re-tie it, just when you ought to be running at your fastest because it's downhill here.

Other than that, the race was okay. As usual, I was slow and slower on the uphill sections, which included most of the first half of the race. Coming back down, I wanted to unleash the beast (after all, we were running at the zoo), but that wardrobe thing slowed me down. 

I finished in 25:58. That's not too bad, but the course was a bit short. Better that than long, I always say. After a while, I checked in at the results tent and learned that I won a miniature daisy planter for being first in my ancient age group. But when I got home, my name isn't showing up in the results. I'm working on this...

DNS

over·​train: transitive + intransitive: : to train (a person or animal) to excess or beyond advantage : to harm (a person or animal) by too much training.

I'm on the mill today. Is that because the weather's bad, you ask? Nope. I just couldn't get myself out the door. And last night, I couldn't get myself over to Medina for the Run 4 Fun 5K. It was raining, but that only reinforced my decision to stay at home. I think I've ventured into the overtraining arena.

My first clue was Tuesday's speedwork. That wound up being a failure to launch, just like last week's session. Then came the Thursday night Ladd 5K. That was almost an all-time personal worst. And it's not for lack of trying.

Tomorrow it will be the Moms Rock 5K at the zoo. It will be Mother's Day, and Debbie will come with me. More importantly, we're only a week away from the Cleveland Marathon. Uh oh.

Well that was tough

I did my long run today, the day after the Run for Tacos. Two Hinckley loops with training partner Julie Boggs, plus a couple more miles to make twenty altogether. It wasn't easy. It's the last long one before Cleveland. Glad it's done. Now, I'm done.

Will Run for Tacos Cinco de Mile 5-Mile Race Report

It was a nice, clear, beautiful Spring morning for the Will Run for Tacos Cinco de Mile 5-Mile race. The good weather brought out a good turnout of runners and lots of good competition. I ran fast, and I’m quite proud of my performance. Afterward, the tacos were extremely tasty.

Not one of those previous statements is even remotely true. Here’s the real story.

I’m officially on fire. Not in terms of running. It’s the post-race taco. Not totally aware or even coherent, I had waited in line after the race, and received a lukewarm soft taco wrapped in foil. I had unwrapped the foil and opened the taco to discover a thin smear of meat, sauce, perhaps melted cheese, and maybe some other stuff. I wasn’t concerned about anything unhealthy therein, because there was so little of it. At the next station, I had squirted on some hot sauce and added lettuce. Then I’d found a warm corner inside where I could stand up and enjoy my meal. It's hot! It is three-alarm-fire hot; I’d added too much of the much-too-hot sauce. Of course, I consume it anyway. It’s been that kind of morning.

The Will Run for Tacos event takes place in the Tremont Neighborhood of Cleveland. The weather is awful – 37F with cold, drizzly rain. I don’t want to get out of my car, but I eventually do go for a short warmup run. Then I line up with the 5K runners as well as 94 other 5-Mile runners. The race is simply out and back on the Towpath Trail. I think this part is fairly new; it certainly is for me. It runs more or less along the West Bank of the Cuyahoga River. 

Even though I hadn’t warmed up properly due to the cold, damp weather, the first mile goes well. Of course, that’s because it’s downhill. I am gonna pay coming back. At 2 ½ miles, we turn around, and I eventually start going back up. Yes, I do pay, big time. My last mile turns out to be my slowest. It’s the opposite of last week’s race.

My time is 42:24, good for first in my ancient age group. That 8:29 pace is slower than last week’s pace for double the distance. I have some work to do.

Ludicrous and other speeds

It all started with the film Ben-Hur. Remember the slave rowers on the Roman warship? Based on orders from the Admiral, the guy beating the drums increased his cadence from ‘battle speed’ to ‘attack speed,’ and all the way up to ‘ramming speed.’ The rowers had to match the drumming cadence, and naturally had a tough time at the higher speeds.

Then there was ‘warp speed’. Warp speed is a term popularized by Star Trek to describe faster-than-light travel, which has since entered the public lexicon to mean an extremely fast pace.

In Star Wars, ‘hyperspace’ is an alternate dimension allowing faster-than-light travel, enabling ships to cross the galaxy by bypassing real-space limitations. Navigated via computers to avoid stellar "mass shadows," it uses hyperdrives, often colloquially termed ‘lightspeed,' though actual speeds vary for plot purposes, frequently appearing as near-instantaneous travel.

This brings us to ‘ludicrous speed.’ Ludicrous speed is the faster-than-light speed from the 1987 movie Spaceballs, surpassing ‘light speed' and ‘ridiculous speed’ to reach ‘plaid’. Ordered by Dark Helmet, it requires extreme safety precautions (fastening seatbelts, securing the zoo) and causes physical discomfort. It is famously faster than light, which is considered "too slow".

The best speed of all, however, is ‘speedwork speed.’ Dan attempted to achieve this particular speed during today’s Yasso workout at the Brunswick Middle School Track. Although Dan did do ten 800s, it didn’t happen. His interval speed didn’t even reach battle speed. Maybe next week.

500 million Chinese don't know you're playing

In my younger days, UCLA had a basketball coach named John Wooden. His teams were highly successful, winning championship after championship. Yet he was known to be very down to earth. I recall a story about him trying to calm his team down prior to yet another National Championship Game. To try to help them understand that although sports are important, they should be kept in perspective, he told them, "There are 500 million Chinese who don't even know you are playing." Of course, nowadays, there are two and a half times that many Chinese, and many of them do know at least something about U.S. college hoops. More concerning to me is that my recollection isn't as accurate as I thought. I now find that the quote should be attributed to American sports commentator and former coach Bill Raftery, not John Wooden. Oh well.

I bring all this up because even though I was pleased as punch with myself after yesterday's 10-mile race, it isn't quite the cat's meow of road racing. As far as I can tell, I ran two ten-mile races slower and a whole bunch faster. This run was nearly a personal worst! My fastest ten is nearly 20-minutes better. I just compiled a list. I am probably missing several, but here it is.

Hermes Cleveland 10 Miler Race Report

Before the start at Edgewater

“You gotta be kidding me,” I say out loud. I don’t think any of the other runners heard, though. That’s important because there may have been an expletive between the words, ‘be’ and ‘kidding’. I am referring to the hill that keeps on going at mile 7 of the Hermes Cleveland 10 Miler. We’d already been going up, climbing out of Wendy Park and the Flats, but now we have to go up and onto some bridges, where we go up some more. My first five miles had all been under 8:20, but mile six, which was also uphill, was slower. Now I wind up with a disastrous 9:06 split for mile seven.

Worst of all, Warren Elzy is now long-gone. I had been fairly close behind, but now I can hardly see him on the straight-aways. He’d pulled much farther ahead on these hills. Warren is in my age group. I remember racing against him on several occasions, but it’s been a while. He usually beats me, and it looks like that’s going to happen again today. I am not sure where my other age-group competitors are at this point.

The Hermes Cleveland 10 Miler starts and finishes at Edgewater Park in Cleveland. It’s a wonderful park, even on a cool, dreary morning. Cool and misty turn out to be just the ticket for good racing, however. For most runners. After my solid first half but drastic slowdown, will I be able to salvage this race?

Miles eight and nine are not so hilly, and my mile splits are in the 8:20s. As I suspected, mile ten is downhill. Downhill all the way. I am surprised to spot Warren ahead of me. He’s slowing down a whole lot, and I’m speeding up. I pass him just before the final downhill section leading to the finish line at the Edgewater Boathouse Pavilion. It’s a 7:10 mile. Yes, it’s downhill, but I can’t remember the last time I ran this fast.

We talk after the finish. Warren had sustained an injury, and that’s what had slowed him down. I learn that I won the age group with a time of 1:22:53, an 8:17 pace. I’m pretty happy with all that. I’ll take a win any way I can get it. Legally, of course.

Here's the finish. Guess who's happy it's over?

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.

Stop and smell the diesel(s)

It's 6:00 AM, and Dan is running clockwise in lane 9 of the 8-lane Brunswick Middle School Track. That's when the school buses in the adjacent parking begin warming up. This isn't supposed to happen until 6:30, laments Dan. His expectation is based on experience. Long, long ago experience. He hasn't run here in a long while, so it's just possible he could be wrong.

The thing is, Dan doesn't especially like to breathe diesel fumes. He's aware that others may feel differently, but probably not. Yesterday, he had been running with friends on Reagan Parkway when a truck went by, spewing diesel fumes. Blech, everyone said. Dan, channeling Robert Duval, kiddingly commented, "I love the smell of diesel in the morning!" Dan didn't want to breathe them then, and he didn't want to breathe them today, either. That's why he'd planned to leave the track at 6:30, before (he thought) the bus warmup routine.

Alas. He endures a few miles of fumes. They're not quite as bad as they could be; it depends on the wind.

The run itself is okay. Dan manages to get down to tempo pace for his time at the track. The weekend long run is looming. 

Weight is down. So are the times.

Things are indeed looking up. At least a little. It sure helps to run with friends. May our group runs never end.

Much less than a pound a day

I had been telling anyone who would listen that the cost of cruising is about a pound of weight gain per day. I can now say that it's actually much less than that. After 35 days of cruising the South Seas, I gained about eight pounds. That's about a quarter-pound a day. Not as bad as expected. But still bad.

Despite all that poundage, I thought I'd be able to keep up with my friends during my first run in cold weather in a long, long time. I thought wrong. They ran the pace they usually do - about ten minutes per mile - but fat, old Dan was huffing and puffing, and eventually falling behind.

Blame it on the cold weather, not on being fat and out of shape. Yeah, that's the reason.

Australia Running

CHAPTER 1: pre-cruise

Canyon Dan (California)

They call him Canyon Dan. That’s because he is known to say things like, “The trouble with canyons is that when you run down into them, you have to run up to get back out.” Dan is staying in Northern San Diego for a few days before flying off further to Australia. He has a bit of a cold, so yesterday, he only shuffled on the hotel treadmill. Today, he’s shuffling for real (meaning he’s outside), although not all cylinders are firing.

Make no mistake about Canyon Dan. He is running on roads, not trails. But there are canyons galore around here, and it’s impossible to avoid them. Another mistake not to make about Canyon Dan is to believe that what he’s doing can truly be considered “running”. It would be a stretch to even call it “shuffling”. And when he goes this slow, it’s tough to get any kind of decent mileage. He’s already decided that this week will be a bust. Maybe he can pick it up once he’s down under.

Canyon Dan has changed his name. He’s now to be known as Ridgerunner Dan. Make no mistake about Ridgerunner Dan. He is running on roads, not trails. But there are ridges galore around here, and it’s impossible to avoid them. This run seems to go better than the one Canyon Dan did the other day. And the early morning scenery up high is better than that down low.


Dan the Bloke Man (Perth)

Dan the Bloke Man is a silly name for Dan, but it does indicate that he is now doing his running Down Under. Stay tuned, maybe he’ll come up with something more appropriate.
Perth is pretty far away from home. Even Aussies from the rest of the country think so. But it’s a wonderful place to run. Blokeman Dan does his best. And that means running alongside the Swan River. Nice all-purpose trails and beautiful scenery. It’s all great, except that is, for Dan himself. He has a day like his first couple in California; all cylinders are not firing, once again.

Crossing the Swan River on a pedestrian bridge

Sunrise on the Swan River

But Dan’s second day is much better. He runs west along the river this time, and the trail goes on and on. Dan is able to pick up the pace enough to call this an actual “run”. Ten whole miles. Dan gets even more running in later, during his stay in Perth. He could get used to living (and running) here full-time.


Oenophile Dan(Adelaide)

Oenophile Dan (he prefers this name to ‘Wino Dan’) sets out on his second run in Adelaide. He’s here mostly to sample the wine, but also to see the sights in South Australia. His first run had its ups and downs. On the upside, running along River Torrens was scenic and interesting. On the downside, the preponderance of bugs detracted from the experience. Dan thinks they’re like the deer flies he deals with back home. But since there are no deer here, maybe they’re kangaroo flies. Yeah, he’ll go with that. But they’re no fun. This time, Oenophile Dan finds a city park that’s away from the river. Maybe there won’t be so many flies here, he thinks. He thinks wrong; they’re bad here too. Otherwise, the run is okay. After arriving, he circumnavigates the park for a loop of about 1 ¾ miles. Dan decides to do a few more loops to reach ten miles. Early in his first loop, Dan notices some people who appear to be Aboriginal standing in the park as he runs by. Not much else happening at this early hour. As Dan runs by the second time, there are several more people, all sitting down on a nearby hillside. The third time, one of the people, a lady, calls out to Dan, “Hey, are you a marathon runner?” Dan stops, smiles, and answers, “Yes, I do run marathons, but not today.” She mentions something about running around and around. Dan moves on, thinking, yeah, that’s what I do. The fourth and final time, Dan is considering doing only a little more in the park before getting ready to return to his hotel. The people are gone, but a lady (it may have been the same one who called to him earlier) is out in the street, disrupting traffic. As Dan cautiously approaches, he notices that she is naked from the waist up. She’s yelling something at the drivers, who clearly don’t know what to do. There are multiple lanes of traffic, so this is a dangerous situation. Dan is afraid that something very bad may happen, but he is not sure whether to intervene in some way. Then he sees a man emerging from the park. He’s yelling loudly at the woman and walking over to her. Dan is relieved that he’s apparently rescuing her from the traffic, but then Dan begins to wonder if perhaps she was trying to get away from him for a good reason. Dan hopes everything is okay with the people. He’s relieved further as he returns to his hotel.

Oenophile Dan does even some other running in Adelaide, but none of it is so eventful. This is a good thing.

River Torrens pedestrian bridge

Devil Dan (Hobart)

Dan would have preferred ‘Tasman Dan’, but we’re not going to let him get away with this one. He’s here in Tasmania in part to find Tasmanian Devils, so we don’t mind referring to him as such. Hobart is the capital and largest city in Tasmania. The summer weather couldn’t be better – cool, crisp mornings and clear days. Dan finds a nice city park with memorials to World War I soldiers. He enjoys these trails (which, unlike Canyon Dan, he's actually using), even though they’re hilly – something he’s not used to. He spots some lorikeets. They’re stunningly beautiful!

Devil Dan glances at his watch as he begins a new circuit. 6.66 miles. He’s in the same park, but he’s doing different trails this time, including one called “Max’s Infinite Loop”. It’s about 1.8 miles of various surfaces, including dirt, asphalt, and some nice, soft woodchips.
As if Dan needed a reminder that he’s not in Kansas anymore, a wallaby and a few kangaroos cross his path. Then he sees the cool lorikeets again. Although the Roos are fairly close, Dan doesn’t approach them any more than he has to. He doesn’t want them to become “jumpy”.

Devil Dan is now Speed Demon Dan. He’s a speed demon because he has found a 400-meter track, of all things. It’s in the same park he’s been running in, but he hadn’t known it was there. There are several other runners here. He does a Half-Yasso workout, and guess what? It ain’t half bad. Of course, Dan ain’t where he was a couple of months ago, but anything of this sort is encouraging.

Speed Demon Dan does decent. He runs once more in Hobart, again at the track. This time, he does a 5K tempo run there, and it’s not so awful, either. 

Diesel Dan (Sydney)

"I love the smell of diesel in the morning," states Dan in his best Robert Duval imitation. ("I love the smell of napalm in the morning" is an iconic, oft-quoted line from the 1979 film Apocalypse Now, delivered by Lieutenant Colonel Bill Kilgore (played by Duvall). Dan is in Sydney for one night before embarkation to his cruise ship. Thus, he has one run here. Unfortunately, he's staying close to the airport, where there are diesel fumes galore. The running isn't so great, but then, neither is Dan. He gets a few miles in. The good news is that his ship has come in. Time for chapter two.

CHAPTER 2: cruise'n

Dan the Seafaring Man (Sydney and Beyond)

Dan the Seafaring Man does a short run in Sydney before embarking on the Oceania Riviera. This is for a little 35-day cruise from Sydney to Sydney. Dan the Seafaring Man’s running suddenly becomes less adventurous and more tedious. Unless, that is, you consider running around in circles or running on a treadmill exciting. Dan promises not to burden you, dear reader, with tales of his circuitous running. But let's see what other mischief he can get himself into.

Not much. Dan the Seafaring Man does manage a few real runs - on land, that is. But those are merely short shuffles. Nothing to write home about. So he won't.

Dan will say this, however: a sinus infection isn't good for running. Even when it gets better, the running still leaves much to be desired. In fact, that's pretty much the story for the cruise portion of the trip. Let's put it this way: less-than-optimal.

For more about this trip, see Dan's travel blog posts: Part 1 and Part 2.