Loop the Lake 50K race report in backward order

On occasion, I like to write a race report in backward order. Why do this, you ask? What’s so special about forward order, I retort. Maybe it will be fun. Or not. 

Mile 30.8 – I can see the finish line, so I suppose I might make it. This, despite the painful feet, feeling unwell most of the past week, and the general fatigue I’m sustaining from running my first ultramarathon in two years. The worst thing is, I’m sure the pizza will now be cold.

Mile 30 – It’s awfully lonely out here. Many of the 25K and relay runners are done, so most of what’s left are the 50Kers like me. It’s funny, but I thought most of them would be finished by now, but maybe they took some breaks. I’ve slowed down a little (from about ten-minute pace to about ten-thirty pace), but that’s not so awful. It appears that everyone else has slowed as well. At least I won’t be dead last. Maybe not even in the final five.

Mile 29.5 – My feet are killing me, especially the right one. I’m not going to try to fix it; I’ll just zoom through and run the final (of 20) 1.55-mile loop of the lake. I think I can make it, despite the fact that my foot feels like it's being stabbed with little knives.

Mile 27 – It’s snowing. Not a lot, but the thing is, the flakes are coming down sideways. The wind, which hadn’t bothered me much until now, is picking up. The temperature has not made it out of the upper 30s today. I’m okay with all of that.

Mile 25 – My feet are killing me, especially the left one. The oncoming blisters will knock me right out of this race if I don’t do something. I grab some bandages. The trouble is, I don’t know whether I can get these compression socks off without scissors. Much less, get them back on. This wardrobe adjustment takes a good chunk of time, but eventually, I get back on course, a new man.

Mile 23.5 – This is the best pizza I’ve ever had in my life. But it doesn’t go down easily. That’s because I’m trying to consume it whilst running. Which makes it hard to chew and swallow. The reasons I’m enjoying such cuisine at this junction are 1) they’re out of energy gels, and what better substitute? 2) the pizza will likely be quite cold when I finish in an hour and a half when I finish, and I prefer it hot, and 3) I’m hungry. ((I later learn the it’s Jets Detroit-style pizza. No wonder it’s so good.))

Mile 19 – Rim to Rim to Rim? That’s amazing. Ultrarunners do some amazing things, but they never cease to astound me. I’m running a couple of the loops with Danielle, whom I’ve just met. Danielle only got back from her Grand Canyon adventure a few short days ago. And here she is, guiding me along. I never get tired of stories like this.

Mile 15.5 – I’d best zoom right through. I’m ten loops in, and I have the option to quit at this point. I’d get credit for completing 25K, and I’d even still get my medal. And I’ve been telling anyone who would listen that after being sick with a bad cold all week, 25K would be plenty for me this day. And on a loop course like this, it sure is easy to quit. On the other hand, I’m feeling pretty decent at this juncture. Maybe I can finish the whole enchilada after all. I zoom right through.

Mile 2.7 - It’s awfully lonely out here. Most of the 50K runners are ahead – way ahead – and I am only seeing three or four behind me. What’s that noise coming from further behind? Some of the fast kids are lapping me already! I try not to let that bother me; I’ve got to run my own race today. It’ll be a miracle if I make the entire 50K, but at least I made it to the start.

P.S. Munroe Falls Metro Park is nice and peaceful. Race Director Nicole Gareri and her crew did a wonderful job with the race. Although the 50K was small, the 25K and relay were well attended and the whole event was a lot of fun.

My overall time was 5:25, for an average pace of 10:30. It’s a decent time for me, even though it’s still fairly far down the list of finishers. But had you asked a week or two ago, I’d have told you that just finishing a 50K, not to mention with a time of under 5:30, would be an accomplishment. 

Yes, the remaining pizza was cold.

November Sky

There were plenty of objects in the sky to observe this morning, during our Tuesday Track workout. First, there was the usual Orion show; always a crowd-pleaser. Then, there were all the other stars and constellations; they're great this time of year. Today, we had a shooting star, aimed (apparently) at the star, Arcturus; that was a sight. But of course, the main attraction today was the lunar eclipse. It reached totality at about 6:00 AM, just as it was beginning to get light, and as we were completing our run. Lastly, I was treated to a wonderful sunrise. Neat stuff.

Eclipsed moon setting

Nice sunrise a little later

The Longest Mile(s)

The longest miles of any run are nearly always the final ones. And such is the case today.

People (runners, that is) come and join the fun - 

At first it's just Dan, Chadwick, and Ella. Ella happens to be a four-legged runner, not that there's anything wrong with that. They run South from the Medina Square, out and back on the Champion Creek / Roscoe Ewing trail. Now there's a bunch more that join: Michelle, Andy, Harold, Debbie, Kelly, and Beth. (Note that last names are not being used here to protect the innocent. Not that there are any of those.)

People begin dropping like flies - 

After a four-mile sojourn on the new Medina Turkey Chase course, they return to the Square once again. "Sojourn" is probably the wrong word. This portion of the run is actually quite fast, at least for Dan. Beth has to go, but the everyone else does the Champion Creek / Roscoe Ewing trail out-and-back once again. Now, it's time for Harold, Debbie, and Kelly to take off, leaving Andy, Michelle, Chadwick, Ella, and Dan. A couple additional, final miles, and it's time for everyone to leave.

Alone again, naturally - 

Everyone, that is, except Dan. Dan has to do at least three more in order for this to be considered a long run. Why is that important, you ask? Dan wouldn't be able to articulate an answer. Maybe because he needs one to train for next week's 50K. How hard can just three additional miles be?

Quite hard - 

Yes, Dan struggles trying to run alone after everybody else is gone. On extremely rare occasions, he can turn these final (longest) miles into good ones. Today is not such a day. Today, they are long. He gets over to the Claggett Track, where they will at least be on a soft surface.

Get back - 

It's not all quite as bad as it seems here, but getting back up to the Square is still a struggle. Dan manages to get there, somehow.

Rock Hall Half Marathon Race Report

It's wonderful when you are able to finish strong. Today was not one of those days. 

But it wasn't completely awful, either.

I've been doing a lot of my training with John Hnat, so it made sense that we ran more or less together through mile eight or nine. This is the most scenic part of the course, through Rockefeller Park. Most of the mile splits had been in the 8:30 range, give or take, but by about halfway, we'd picked it up a little from there.

John kept it going, and he finished strong. I did not. The slightly faster pace was just a bit too much for me, and I had to slow things back down. But I didn't die completely; I managed to keep the last few mile splits in the 8:40's. My time was 1:51:55, good for first in my ancient age group.

It was a perfect Autumn day for running in downtown Cleveland. After Rockefeller Park, the course took us along Lake Erie, and this part was nice as well. It's also fun to start and finish in front of the Rock Hall. It was also nice to see so many friends before, during, and after the race. It's definitely a keeper.

Road Trip Running

We're on a road trip to visit the Gateway Arch in St. Louis, Hot Springs Arkansas, and Vicksburg National Battlefield in Mississippi. 

The first run is in Vandalia, IL. It's an hour outside of St. Louis, and there ain't much happening. Not in the small town, or in regards to my brief run. But at least I get a couple of miles in.

Here in Hot Springs, AR, I had planned to get more than a couple of miles in. As usual, I'd examined the charts using Google Maps. As usual, I'd looked for nice and safe, yet adventuresome places to explore. And guess what? The roads around the lakes and rivers actually worked out today. It winds up being a pretty decent, albeit slow, run today. I only hope I can get up to double digits tomorrow.

I'm running in circles. It stinks of 1) a dead animal, 2) diesel fumes from trucks far and near, and 3) some kind of pervasive bad smell from paper mills. The thing I'm running around is dead, itself: the Pines Mall in Pine Bluff, AR. It's spooky and scary in the darker areas, which are many. And yet, it's going fairly well. I've managed to finally get down to something like tempo pace for four of the last five miles, and I'm going to get ten, total today. The pollution probably made the run more health - harmful than - helpful, but I'll just choose to ignore that concern. It's the best run of the bunch.

Vicksburg would probably be a nice place to run. If only I could get down to the river, but I just don't have the time today. Only enough for a short run toward some ball parks. Okay, it'll do.

One final run: Elizabethtown, just a stop on the way home. After I get away from the large assortment of chain hotels, fast food joints, and gas stations, I discover an actual park. Of all things. It's almost as if there's a real town here. I'm only running a couple miles, so I don't do all that much exploring. Maybe next time I come through.

Tooting my own horn again

This marks two consecutive Sunday Hinckley runs, although today it was only one 9-mile loop, compared with last week's two. But today's run follows the long one I did yesterday, so I was happy to be able to run at all. Not only that, but I was able to finish strong. Even though the final two and a half miles are downhill, it still feels great to be able to do it.

The Hinckley nine is run clockwise. Blue is slow; red is fast. The hills help (and hurt).

While I'm tooting this horn of mine, permit me to go on a little further. Someone mentioned in passing that I must have good age-graded running results. I had seen my age-graded percentage in the past, but haven't considered it recently. Until today, that is. It appears that the Akron Marathon calculates this data and includes it in its results.

I'm only near the bottom of their top 50, with an age-graded percentage of 68.5%. Using this factor, my 3:59 marathon equates to 2:59. That's just one minute off my 2:58 marathon personal best. Also, I think my age-graded percentage has been in this same range even in the distant past. So, all in all, not too shabby.

Akron Marathon age-graded results

Okay, enough tooting. I'll go back to my usual humble self now.

The What's the Point Award

It's the early 1990s, and home computing is still somewhat new. Newer still are "windows" with a small 'w', part of a 'Graphical User Interface.' At an Apple user conference, one guy proudly displays his ability to get a screen saver to run within a window. Previously, screen savers would only exist on entire screens. The other conferees subsequently give this person a "What's the Point Award." This takes the form of a six-pack of Caffeine-free Diet Mountain Dew.

During a break between today's six-mile loops on the Lester Rail Trail, my friends see me drinking a Mountain Dew, one that is caffeinated and sugared. They are surprised that I would consume such a disgusting thing. I explain that I don't usually partake; the last time I had one was at the 1996 Towpath Marathon. I don't think they believe me.

I also explain that the only reason I have this one was that it came free with last night's Little Caesars dinner that we shared with the grandkids.

The 1996 Towpath Marathon occurred after that Apple user conference. It is one that I remember well. I drank two 16-ounce high-test Mountain Dews before the race. It was a beautiful fall day, and I ran well. It was the last of seven times that I broke three hours. I'm not sure how much credit I should give to the soda, but it sure didn't hurt. Regardless of its value as a running hack, I hate the stuff; it truly is disgusting. I really believe that I haven't had one during these past 26 years.

Once again, however, I can say that it does not hurt my shot at getting in a decent long run today. With the help of my friends, I get three plus loops done, for twenty miles. It's not super fast, but it's at least decent, and I will take it.

Now, I'll have to recover in time for tomorrow's hilly Hinckley run. I'll do it without Dew.

Those slings and arrows

Slings and arrows of outrageous fortune are the very worst kinds. Today's outrageous fortune includes being still tuckered out after Sunday's Hinckley ordeal, yesterday's two runs, and today's weather. Yup, it's cold rain again. And wind as well.

4:02 - It's my first of 10 800s, and it's not too awful. I thought I'd be alone in this pitiful weather, but Frank Dwyer has made a surprise appearance. Not that he's doing the same workout as me, but it's nice to have company on the track. Except that now I'll have to remain honest.

4:05 - Whoa. That's going in the wrong direction. For Yasso workouts of yore, the first one was allowed to be slightly slower than the rest. Just a few weeks ago, my conditioning was such that, like today, the first might be just a little bit slower than four minutes, but then the next nine would all be in the 3:50s. Looks like that won't happen today. But maybe I can still turn this into a halfway decent workout.

4:07 - Whoa. Slower still! I didn't even think that would be possible.

4:10 - Okay, this is getting ridiculous. I'm dying here, and the cold rain just started back up. Enough suffering these slings and arrows. Better to take arms against a sea of troubles, and by opposing end them. (That means I should probably quit.) Let me try to at least do five. That would be fairly respectable, right?

4:11 - I think I really got in under 4:10, but my cold fingers malfunctioned when I tried to engage my watch's lap button. I'm still suffering, but now I'm thinking that I ought to at least try to do six today. 

4:14 - Well, I'm slowing down even more, yet I think I may be able to continue this nonsense even a little bit longer.

4:12 - Hey - real improvement. Woohoo. Now that the rain has subsided a little, I'm going to try to finish all 10, and I'm even going to try to decrease the recovery, taking that all the way down from 400 meters to 300. Why do that, you ask? Because it will enable me to finish faster and get the heck out of here earlier. Feels like I haven't left since last week's run here.

4:18 - I guess a 300-meter recovery wasn't such a good idea after all. But let me try another.

4:32 - Now, I'm absolutely sure that shorter recoveries are not a good thing. Not when all the other slings and arrows of outrageous fortune are also against you. But lookyahere: there's only one more 800 to go! I run a full lap along with Frank, and we talk a bit.

4:23 - Somehow, I've done it. 10 800s, in spite of everything. 

Hey, maybe I should keep these things going?

The Second Loop

About a month ago, Dan ran the Hinckley 9-mile loop (the one with the hills from hell) for the first time in over a year.  John Hnat, had joined him then, and later suggested a two-loop attempt. That's crazy-talk, thought Dan, but he nevertheless went along with the suggestion for today's run. That's one thing you can indeed say about Dan: he abides.

The first loop had been run mostly with Theresa Wright. They'd fought the wind and rain/sleet/show mixture to crawl back to the Spillway. Now, along with fellow two-loopers John and Julie Boggs, as well as fresh, new folks Harold Dravenstott and Bob Pokorny, it's time to do it again. Dan had barely completed that first hilly loop; how the hell can he do it again? 

The intrepid group ponders their way up Bellus once more. They're all breathing hard and heavy. This shit is getting real. Despite the pain and fatigue, Dan doesn't fail to notice the splendid fall foliage that's apparent in the morning light now that the sun has risen.

After Bellus comes the downs and up (big up) of Parker Road, followed by the rollers of Ledge Road, and then, after five miles of torture... ((drum-roll))... Effie. Dan can only manage to run up as far as the MIA flag, and then he has to walk. But he continues to notice the beautiful autumn leaves as he slowly makes his way up.

At the top, he feels surprisingly good. He begins to run again, and he even enjoys it a little. Just a little. Soon though, he's running as fast as he has for the entire day. There are three and a half miles to go, but it's mostly downhill from here on. He catches up with John, and they talk and talk enough to complete the journey without further pain or mishap.

That second loop wound up being much faster than the first. Daylight helps. So does abiding.

Mindlessness

Mindfulness is the self-help topic du-jour nowadays, and it is the subject of many a book and article. But today, the subject of this post is the opposite thing: Mindlessness.

I'm running around on the track, circle after circle. After circle! It's arguably the most mindless of all of my running, and that includes all those mindless mill miles. This beats those because there isn't even a TV to distract me.

Dan Stock had met me for the day's Tuesday Track session. Although we've had several additional folks for some of these runs, today it's Dan and Dan, and that's it. After a warmup, we ran 10 x 400 meters, with 100-meter recoveries. I like this workout because you get to run exactly 5K, and besides the 400s,  you can check this overall time when you're done. We do manage to get through the ordeal, so now, we're truly done.

But done ain't the half of it. Dan left after a mile cooldown, so now it's just me and the track. Oh, did I say I was done after that interval running? Well, I surely was. But... The bad part is that I desired my total mileage to be ten miles or more today, and that means I still have three to go. Three more mindless miles around the oval. Three more miles after I was done.

Somehow, I do it. Now I'm well done. And as mindless as ever.

Moonset - photos on the run

The sun was rising whilst the full moon was setting. I had returned home to get the camera, and was now back out, running around nearby Heritage Farm. To sum the morning up: lousy running, but pretty vistas.

Almost

It was almost a runner's high run today. After everyone else left (we did a couple back-and-forth loops along Lake Medina), I was on my own to get my total up to ten miles. Steam was rising off the warmer-than-air lake and it was beginning to get light. Even though I was running painfully slow, it did occur to me that it doesn't get much better than this. At least almost never. It just don't.

Enough

When is enough enough?

Of course, the answer is, when it's enough.

It was today after about five and a half miles, but I went on to do a couple more. It probably was, after yesterday's morning run, but I went on to meet some folks for a short evening run as well. And it probably was, after yesterday's evening run, such that I hardly needed to show up at all today.

But, it turned out that I did get Something of Substance done on the track. 10 x 400 with 100 recoveries, for a total of 5K of fun. 

SOS. It's better than nothing. And it's enough.

Danielle's run on the Towpath

Hello. Gender-fluid Danielle here. You can call me Dan, Danny, Daniel, Danielle, Daniella, or anything else you wish. My preferred pronoun is Shithead.

A little more seriously, I suppose I’m really binary (male, I think), and not gender-fluid. I do enjoy the company of other binary and non-binary people, although I don’t know very many of the latter. I like to have a little fun with pronouns and such (my spouse provided mine) but I mean no disrespect to anyone having usual or unusual pronouns or genders.

What does all this have to do with today’s run? Absolutely nothing. Here’s that story.

Shithead and Larry Orwin show up at the Station Road parking area at the same time and fight it out for first dibs on the restroom. They then take off toward Peninsula in the early morning darkness. It’s been a long time since they’ve run together, and there is a lot to catch up on. Larry talks about recent travels and an upcoming race. Shithead relates travel and some running stories as well.

After a little more than an hour, they arrive at Lock 29 in central Peninsula. There, as they’re about to turn back, they bump into and talk with Jim O’Connor. Other runners also come and go along the way. It’s now getting light, and Shithead realizes that Shithead is doing most of the storytelling. Too bad for Larry, although he doesn’t seem to mind. Shithead supposes that Larry abides, just like Shithead’s other running friends.

With another race coming up soon, Larry decides that 14 miles is enough for him this day. Shithead bids him goodbye and then continues running. Shithead planned on twenty miles today, so six more will do it. But Shithead’s legs are still sore and tired from last week’s effort. Can Shithead do it?

Shithead does! It wasn’t completely pretty, but twenty miles is twenty miles.

Now, next week starts the big push.

Reflections

When it takes you an hour and a half to run your six-mile route, you have a lot of time to reflect on things.

Why so slow? It’s what happens a couple days after an all-out effort, like Akron. So let’s start with that.

Effort: Boy, was that hard. I would like to be able to say that at least the first half (which I ran faster than my recent half-marathon only efforts) was easy, but even that wasn’t. It was hilly, and I would have to say that it took much more effort than it should have. The next 3-4 miles on the Towpath were okay, but then the hills got ridiculous. I still don’t know how in the world I managed to do it.

Speaking of the World: I’ve been walking this planet for many decades now. In that time, I’ve traveled to downtown Akron perhaps a few dozen times. I swear that none of those times – not one – has seen the city without any major construction projects. When I say major, I mean BIG. And it’s not just the freeways (although they’re still part of this mix), it’s also the important downtown city streets.

The Akron Marathon: Having said all this, the folks at the Akron Marathon do have their stuff together. The race is well loved by runners, and that’s for good reason: they do a great job.

Friends: If you’re away from the racing scene like I’ve been, for any period of time, you may forget how much you’ve missed your friends. Until you make a comeback and see them all once again. I do see some friends during my weekday and weekend training runs, and that’s all great. But I see all of them and many more during a big race like Akron. And it’s wonderful.

Sub-Four: I’m not sure how sub-four-hour marathon times became a goal, but I suppose it’s for the same reason that sub-three times were two and a half decades ago. In fact, it was Fall, 1996 when I did my last sub-three at the Towpath Marathon. Now, I’m quite happy and proud with being an hour slower. Oh, how the times can change.

Where from here (1): My left hip hurts. The pain is hard to describe because it seems to be deep inside. Sometimes I feel it when I run (I did in Akron), but moreso other times. Like when I put my pants, shorts, or underwear on. To do this, you have to bend over and lift each leg up and forward a little in order to get that foot through the hole. This started to be a problem for me little by little over the past couple years. A big running effort like a marathon seems to exacerbate the pain. I’m trying to fix it the best I can with core exercises. But I’m aware that it probably won’t go away completely. And of course it will slow me down some, at least for a while. Wish I knew what it was.

Where from here (2): I’m registered for Loop the Lake 50K in November. And now I just signed up for the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame Half-Marathon at the end of October. Should I try to do some others as well? I do know that I need a rest. Maybe right now is the best time for that.

Akron Marathon 2022 Race Report

Mile 24: I began my Erie Marathon Race Report at mile 24, so why not do it again? Lots of things seem to happen at that point.

It's about this point where we make the turn onto West Market Street in order to move on to the finish. I suddenly notice that something about my shoe is scraping the ground, no matter how much I lift my feet. Those $250 Nikes must be falling apart. I don't think it's a problem, but I'll have to lift my feet higher still. Not my usual style, but I will have to deal with it.

What does seem to be a problem is that I don't think I'm going to make it. According to my watch, I hit mile 24 at 3:38:20. That should be plenty fine for my goal to get under four hours today. But maybe not. There's always the rest of the story.

Julie Boggs, Maureen Oblander, me, Michelle Wolff, Theresa Wright (photo: Julie)

The weather has been nearly perfect: 50s and 60s with a lot of clouds and no wind. I'd been a little concerned that that 13-day-ago Erie Marathon would slow me down, but I don't know whether that can be a legitimate excuse. 

What definitely can be a legitimate excuse are these here Akron mountains. Around halfway, the course turned onto the Towpath, and I remarked to Theresa Wright that it seemed like the old course. Theresa, who ought to know, indicated that it was. Oh oh. Although the first half was hilly, we'd come through in a stellar 1:57, but I now knew that the best was yet to come.

Just like in old times, we emerge from the Towpath somewhere after mile 16, and then make our way up through Sand Run Metropark. Up is the key word here. There definitely be mountains here. Big mountains. They ease up a little, and then they start again. And again and again. They don't quit until we run through Stan Hywet at about mile 23.

Said hills had slowed me down a whole heck of a lot. But now I know that the final two-plus miles are mostly downhill. Yay. 

My Nikes

The thing is, I don't know whether I can pick up the pace again. And I know that I have to pick it up a whole lot, because, much to my dismay, my mile 24 is a good 0.2 miles from the Akron Marathon mile 24. I always try to run the tangents, but things like this happen, and the extra distance can mean a couple of minutes added to my overall time. A couple of minutes that I do not have.

All I can do is try. Maybe picking up my feet due to the dragging shoes is a good thing. I run a 9:01 mile, then an 8:29 mile, and then, turning onto South Main Street for the final 0.41 mile, I manage to keep the pace up enough to just barely run sub-four hours.

What a relief.

Nice to see all my friends though!

Julie, me, and Theresa (photo: Theresa)

Weather or not

 It's Friday night, the eve of the Akron Marathon. As I've stated here about my previous race, the Hay is in the Barn. It applies here as well; preparation is over and there's nothing more to do. There is the concern about the weather, however. The problem? It may be too good. WHAT am I going to do for excuses?

Running in the U.P.

Munising

We're up north once again. This time, our mission is to visit Isle Royale National Park and to take the scenic boat ride to see the Pictured Rocks. Today, it's Munising and the Rocks. 

I am on the watch for aurora borealis. It's cold, and unfortunately, mostly cloudy. From the Holiday Inn Express, I run southwest towards downtown Munising. I reach it in 3 miles, then continue through town towards Pictured Rocks National Lakeshore. I make it to the visitor center and entrance just when I need to turn back at 5 miles.

It's beginning to get lighter now. I pick up the pace a little on the way back. Coming back through town, I stop for another photo with a nice fellow I find on the corner.

As I get back to the HI, I'm treated to a nice sunrise over Lake Superior.

The other part of the journey doesn't happen. Our trip to Isle Royale is canceled due to bad weather. So this run is it for this trip. 

Maybe next year.

Erie Marathon Race Report, Beginning at Mile 24

Mile 24: 

Less than optimal. That's what a coworker used to say in reference to a situation (or project, in some cases) that didn't go quite as well as hoped or planned. I can say that today's weather is less than optimal for a marathon. The rain has been constant, sometimes lighter and sometimes heavier, but always one or the other. And now there are puddles galore. But I suppose it could have been worse. Although the rain includes humidity, I'm happy to say that it never got much warmer than around 70 degrees.

That said, I'm doing fairly well. Sub-four hours had somehow become a goal, and at 3:37:00 for Mile 24, I'm right on pace. All I have to do is maintain the current 9:00 to 9:20 pace for the final two-plus miles. And although it seems to be getting a little difficult, I firmly believe that I can do it. Unless, that is, something goes horribly wrong.

Mile 24.1:

Ouch. Well, that's interesting. I feel a minor tingle of pain in my right hamstring. It's the slightest sign of a cramp. But I'm not worried. I just have to keep on moving.

Mile 24.2:

Ouch. Another tingle of pain. It occurs to me that a smart runner would read these signs and slow down a little in order to avoid any major cramping. But no one has accused me of being smart. I've got to keep this pace going.

I should say that I was smart enough to take electrolyte pills throughout the race. I'm not sure why they aren't working, but I'll just figure that out at the finish. I should also mention that I've enjoyed seeing many new and old friends here, but many of them have been reduced to less-than-optimal performances, mainly due to the weather. What is working for me are my new Nike ZoomX Vaporfly NEXT% 2 shoes. They feel great, and I believe they've helped me get this far at this pretty-good pace.

Mile 24.4:

Okay, I've gone more than a tenth of a mile without any leg cramp issues. Maybe it's a non-issue. 

I reflect some more on how well things have been going for me. The Erie Runners Club puts it on, and they do a marvelous job. It's become a big race, but they attend to every conceivable detail. And the course itself is also a star. Presque Isle juts out into Lake Erie, and the route takes runners around two times. I wrote about it when I ran the 2017 edition, so check that out here.

The classic course: two 13-mile loops

 

Mile 24.5:

EEEEEOOOOW! My right hamstring ties itself up into a very painful knot. I have to completely stop all forward motion. People run by and provide encouragement. They include the 4:00 pace group. "Stretch it out, they say as they go by." Stretch? I am going to die; what's the point in stretching? And it's not just my right hamstring, it's now the left one, too. Within a couple seconds, I've gone from "I think I can run under four hours," to, "I don't know if I can finish at all."

Mile 24.6:

Okay, I am managing to walk a little. Just a little. I find it interesting that some other runners are experiencing the same thing at the same point in the race. I think others have hit this point earlier, so I should consider myself lucky. 

But I don't.

Mile 24.7:

After what seems like forever, I begin to jog once again. I can still see the 4:00 pace group way up ahead. But they're pulling away even more now.

Mile 26.0:

I believe I ran all of the previous mile. But it was pretty darn slow. 

Even though I fully recognize that a marathon is 26.2 miles, and not 26.0 miles, I still try to get under four hours for this milestone. I miss by around 30 seconds.

Mile 26.4:

Yes, that's a little long, but that's typical for an accurately measured course. I cross the line with a chip time of 4:04. I did not place in my ancient age group.

Just for fun, here is my pace info. Notice the point where I stopped completely.

Hay in the barn

You've done all the training, and now the Big Race is only days (or perhaps a week or two) away. More hard training would likely not provide any further benefit, and may well hurt your chances of optimal performance during your Main Event. Runners refer to this situation as the hay is in the barn. 

It's in the barn for me, and that's why I'm not concerned that yesterday's long, hot, group run was somewhat of a stinker. Today's run was similarly less than optimal. Everything is fine. More hay couldn't be stuffed in my barn anyway; it's full.

Erie is a week away. The long-range forecast is for a high of 73 with a chance of rain. I'll mostly be concerned about the humidity. Not to mention the humility.