Marathons for Every Letter of the Alphabet

When I finished the Xenia Avenue Marathon, I finally completed a goal that I started pursuing in 2012.  I came close to completing this goal in 2014, but since then, I’ve been stuck.  What was this elusive goal?  I wanted to run marathons or ultras for every letter of the alphabet.

Here's how it works.  It’s based on the first letter of the name of the race, not the city where the race is held.  Sponsor’s names are ignored.  For example, the New York City Marathon would count for “N.”  It wouldn’t be “T” for TCS New York City Marathon.  Sponsors come and go.  Before they started calling it the TCS New York City Marathon, they called it the ING New York City Marathon.  Originally, it was simply the New York City Marathon.

An exception to this rule about sponsors is if the entire name of the race is the name of the sponsor.  Grandma’s Marathon, for example, was originally named after Grandma’s Saloon & Grill, which organized the marathon to promote the restaurant.

I’m going to highlight one race I’ve done for each letter of the alphabet.  In most cases, there are several races from which to choose.

Athens Classic Marathon

There’s no better to place to begin than with this race, which starts in Marathon and finishes in Athens.

There’s a legend that after the Battle of Marathon, an Athenian messenger named Pheidippides ran all the way to Athens to deliver the news that Athens had defeated the Persians.  In some retellings, he’s said to have died right after delivering this message.

That story is part fact, part fiction.  What’s important is that it inspired the creation of a race called a marathon when the first modern Olympic Games were held in 1896.  That first Olympic Marathon was 40 kilometers.  Later, 42.195 kilometers was adopted as the international standard distance for a marathon.

When the Olympics returned to Athens in 2004, they modified the route slightly to conform to the 42.195 kilometer standard.  The new route included all of the 1896 route, but added a loop around the Tomb of Marathon, where Athenian soldiers who died in the battle are buried.

I ran the Athens Classic Marathon in 2010, when they were celebrating the 2,500 year anniversary of the Battle of Marathon.  As part of the festivities, they relit the Olympic cauldron, which is near the starting line of the marathon.

The route for our race was the same route used for 2004 Olympic Marathon.  It included the entire route of the 1896 Olympic Marathon, which was an approximation of the route that would’ve been taken by an Athenian messenger in 490 BC.

You can’t find a race anywhere which encapsulates more of the history of the marathon.

Boston Marathon

I’ve done a number of marathons that start with B, but the Boston Marathon is my favorite.  It’s the only marathon that I do every year.  It’s also the oldest annual marathon in the world.

In 1896, the United States Olympic team that went to Athens included several members of the Boston Athletic Association.  They were so inspired by the marathon that they decided to create their own.  The first Boston Marathon was held in 1897, and it’s been an annual event ever since.

Long before any of the other major marathons was established, the Boston Marathon was the race where the world’s best distance runners came to compete with each other.

Besides its long history, another part of the alure of the Boston Marathon is the challenge of qualifying for it.  There are other ways to gain entry, but most runners get in by running a qualifying time.  You don’t need to be an elite runner to qualify.  I believe a runner of average ability can do it if they train hard enough.  That said, you have to really commit to the training.  Most people consider qualifying for Boston to be a standard of excellence.

Comrades Marathon

The Comrades Marathon is actually an ultramarathon.  It’s a point-to-point road race between the cities of Durban and Pietermaritzburg, in South Africa.

The first Comrades Marathon was held in 1921, to honor fallen comrades, who perished during World War I.  It’s been an annual event ever since.

Comrades is a huge event for an ultramarathon.  It annually draws 20,000 runners, which is comparable to some of the largest marathons.  By contrast, the largest ultramarathon in the United States is limited to about 1,000 runners.

For South African runners, Comrades is a rite of passage.  You’re not considered to be a real runner until you’ve finished Comrades.

They alternate directions each year.  When the race finishes in the highland city of Pietermaritzburg, it’s called an “up” race.  When it finishes in the coastal city of Durban, it’s called a “down” race.  I ran Comrades in back-to-back years, so I could experience the course in both directions.

Dublin Marathon

The largest D race I’ve done is the Dublin Marathon, which draws more than 20,000 runners.  I ran the Dublin Marathon in 2014.  It’s a single-loop course.  It starts in downtown Dublin, goes through Phoenix Park and past some of the historic sights, continues through some of the surrounding communities, and then returns to downtown Dublin.  After the race, you have to celebrate at a pub with a pint or two of Guinness.

Extra Terrestrial Full Moon Midnight Marathon and 51K

I’ve done larger E races, but this one is the most unique.  It’s held on a remote highway in Nevada that’s hours away from the nearest large city.  The highway in question is Nevada State Route 375, which is better known as the Extra-Terrestrial Highway.  It got that name from the large number of UFO reports over the years.

Highway 375 is near the eastern boundary of a vast top secret government installation, which has come to be known as “Area 51.”  Because of its large size and remote location, Area 51, is an ideal location for testing experimental aircraft.  That probably explains all the UFO sightings.

There’s a marathon and a 51K race.  I’ve done them both.  Both of these races start at midnight.  There aren’t many lights, so these races are always held on the weekend in August that’s closest to the full moon.  All runners are required to wear reflective vests.  There aren’t a lot of cars, but there are some, and you want them to see you.  Flashlights or headlamps are also recommended.

The races finish in the small town of Rachel, NV, and post-race breakfast is served at a café called Little A'Le'Inn.

FANS 6/12/24-Hour Race

The FANS 24-Hour Race was my first ultramarathon, back in 1998.  Over the years, I’ve done the 24-hour race nine times, the 12-hour race twice, and the 6-hour race once.

I’ve set some significant PRs in this race, including 124.81 miles in the 24-hour run and 101 miles in the 24-hour walk.

This race is a fundraiser for a local program that works with inner-city students.  I’m there almost every year.  When I’m not running or walking, I’m crewing or volunteering.

Gansett Marathon

This is a small race in Narragansett, RI.  What makes it unique is the requirement to run a qualifying time.  Other races -- most notably the Boston Marathon – have qualifying standards, but there are usually other ways to get into the race.  The organizers of the Gansett Marathon took pride in the fact that you could only get into their race by running a qualifying time.  Just to underline that point, they made their qualifying standards five minutes faster than Boston’s.

For me, the appeal of this race was the fact that it used to be held on the same weekend as the Boston Marathon.  That made it convenient to run the Gansett Marathon on Saturday, drive to Boston on Sunday, and run the Boston Marathon on Monday.  It’s only 80 miles from Narragansett to Boston.  I did that in both 2012 and 2013.

Honolulu Marathon

The Honolulu Marathon is the fifth largest marathon in the United States, drawing more than 20,000 participants.  One reason it’s so large is because of huge number of runners from Japan.

Japan Airlines is a major sponsor, and runners traveling from Japan can get discounted airfares if they’re doing the race.  Whole families from Japan will do the race together, often walking the whole way, as part of a Hawaii vacation.

If you plan to run the whole way, you need to line up near the front, as most people walk the whole way.

Istanbul Marathon

The city of Istanbul spans both sides of the Strait of Bosporus, which is the boundary between the European and Asian parts of Turkey.  The race starts on the Asian side of the strait.  After crossing the Bosporus Bridge, you’re in Europe for the remainder of the race.  As far as I know, this is the only marathon in the world that starts and finishes on different continents.

Jackson Hole Marathon

The Jackson Hole Marathon is the only J race I’ve done, but that wasn’t my only motivation to do this race.  At the time, it was the only marathon in Wyoming that had a certified course, so it was the only place I could get an official Boston qualifier in Wyoming.

Running a fast time on this course wasn’t easy.  The elevation is 6,300 feet, and the last 15 miles are slightly uphill.  I was rewarded for my effort with frequent views of Grand Teton.

Kentucky Derby Festival Marathon

The Kentucky Derby Festival Marathon is held one week before the Kentucky Derby.  The highlight of the course is running through Churchill Downs.  Sometimes you’ll see horses on training runs.

I’ve had good results in this race, despite a hilly section in the middle.  The two times I ran it, I qualified for Boston.  The time I race-walked it, I set my walking PR.

London Marathon

The London Marathon is one of the World Marathon Majors.  It’s very difficult to get into this race, unless you’re a British resident who can run a “Good for Age” qualifying time.  I was able to get into the race by traveling with a tour group, but even those spots are difficult to obtain.

I ran this race in 2011, when I saw a rare opportunity to race in Paris and London on back-to-back weekends.  That 11-day trip was the first time Deb and I traveled overseas together.  It’s still my all-time favorite trip, although Deb would disagree.  Her favorite was Venice.

Marine Corps Marathon

This race is the fourth largest marathon in the United States, but you won’t see many elite athletes there, because they don’t offer prize money.  Instead, it’s a marathon for the average runner.

The course starts and finishes in Arlington Cemetery, near the Marine Corps War Memorial.  The majority of the course, however, is in the District of Columba, where you run past several of the best-known federal buildings and monuments, including the White House, the U.S. Capitol, the Washington Monument, and the Lincoln Memorial.

New York City Marathon

This the largest marathon in the world.  I ran it in 1989, 2011, and 2018.  I was also scheduled to run it in 2012, when it was cancelled because of Hurricane Sandy and this year, when it was cancelled because of COVID-19.

The first time I ran this race, there were roughly 25,000 runners.  Since then, it’s grown to more than 50,000.  It has the largest crowds of any race I’ve run, and the course takes you through all five boroughs of New York City.

Olander Park 24-Hour Race

I ran this race in 1998, when it was the USATF National Championship for 24 hours.  That year, I ran 118.97 miles, which placed me among the top 10 men.  I was also on the ALARC Minnesota team, which took second in the team championship.

The most memorable thing able this race was sharing the course with some of the best ultrarunners in the country.

Paris Marathon

Of all the marathons I’ve done, this one has my favorite course.

I’m a long-time follower of Le Tour de France.  The final stage of that race always concludes with several laps of a circuit that includes riding the full length of Champs-Elysée in both directions.

The Paris Marathon starts with 40,000 runners all lined up on Champs-Elysée and running toward Place de la Concorde.  That alone was enough to get me excited about the course.

The rest of the route is a single loop that takes you past many famous sights, along one bank of the Seine, and through two large city parks before finishing within walking distance of where you started.  It’s a wonderful tour of a wonderful city.

Quad Cities Marathon

It’s not hard to find a race that starts with Q.  I can think of three of them in North America, and I wouldn’t be surprised if there are more.

I chose the Quad Cities Marathon, because it’s close enough to home that I could drive there.  The Quad Cities refer to Moline, IL, Bettendorf, IA, Davenport, IA, and Rock Island, IL.  The marathon route goes through all four cities, crossing the Mississippi River twice.

When I ran this race in 2014, it gave me 25 letters of the alphabet.  Since then, I’ve just needed X.

Reggae Marathon

The Reggae Marathon is in Negril, Jamaica, which is home to Seven Mile Beach.  Several things about this race made an impression on me.

First, they have the best pre-race pasta dinner I’ve ever seen.  There are several tables of pastas dishes, salads, and local favorites.

The race starts before dawn, so you can run close to half of the race before having to endure the heat of the sun.  To provide light in the start area, dozens of teenage boys lined both sides of the road holding torches.

Heat and humidity make the race difficult, but your spirits are lifted by Reggae music all along the course.

Finally, the race finishes at a beach park, where you can go straight to the beach party after refreshing with coconut milk and Red Stripe.

Singapore Marathon

Singapore is a fantastic destination.  It’s like a melting pot for Asian culture, with heavy Chinese, Indian and Malay influences.  The marathon route gives you a good tour of the city, so in a way it’s like getting a tour of Asia in one race.

This race aspires to be the next addition to the World Marathon Majors.  Whether or not it attains that status, it’s a great destination race.

Twin Cities Marathon

The Twin Cities Marathon isn’t the largest or best-known T race that I’ve done, but it’s one of my favorites.  It was my first marathon in 1983, and it’s the one I’ve run the most times.

The “Twin Cities” refer to Minneapolis and St. Paul.  The race starts in downtown Minneapolis, outside the football stadium.  It finishes in downtown St. Paul, in front of the Minnesota State Capitol.  In between, it’s entirely along tree-lined parkways, around lakes, alongside rivers, and past mansions and churches.

University of Okoboji Marathon

This race has an unusual name.  There isn’t actually a University of Okoboji.  Okoboji is a lake resort area in northern Iowa.  There’s an athletic store in a neighboring town that sponsors a number of athletic events, including the marathon.  They created their own line of athletic gear that incorporates the logo of a fictitious university.

I’ve run this race four times.  It’s in July, when there aren’t many races in the Upper Midwest.  More often than not, it’s hot as hell.

Venice Marathon

What could capture the imagination more than running a marathon through a city without streets?

Here’s how it works.  The first 20 miles are on the Italian mainland.  The next few miles are on the bridge out to Venice.  Only the last few miles in actually in the city.

There are footbridges over the smaller canals.  Running up and down all the steps would be impractical, so they put long wooden ramps over the steps to transform the bridges into hills.  It’s intense.  You run over 13 of them in the last two miles of the race.

They also temporarily erect a pontoon bridge over the Grand Canal.  The year I ran it, it was rainy and windy.

Wyoming Marathon

I was tempted to list the Walt Disney World Marathon, but I don’t want to quibble over whether that counts as W for Walt or D for Disney.  The Wyoming Marathon isn’t as large, but I’ve done it twice, and it’s among the more challenging races I’ve done.

The Wyoming Marathon is a no-frills race on dirt roads in the Laramie Mountains.  The elevation ranges from 8,000 to 8,800 feet.  There are three long uphill sections and three long downhill sections.

When I ran it in 2004, I gave it my best effort, but I ran out of gas on the difficult climb in the last four miles.  I finished in 4:05.  That was good for fifth place overall, which tells you something about the difficulty of this race.

Xenia Avenue Marathon

For almost six years, I just needed an X race to finish this goal.  Unfortunately, there aren’t many.  I considered the Xiamen International Marathon in China, but Xiamen isn’t a tourist destination.  In all likelihood, I’d have to travel there by myself without knowing the local dialect.

There’s a cross-country race in Florida called the X-Country Marathon.  While technically an X race, that name seemed kind of cheesy to me.  Besides that, it always fell on the same weekend of another race that was more important to me.

There’s a marathon in Xenia, OH, and the finisher medal features a big “X” but it’s called the Ohio River Road Runners Club Marathon.  Since it’s the name and not the city that counts, that’s an O race, not an X race.

The Xenia Avenue Marathon was the obvious choice.  Since it’s in Minnesota, I would’ve wanted to do this race even if it didn’t start with X.  As an added bonus, it was a rare opportunity to run a marathon during the COVID-19 pandemic.

Yakima River Canyon Marathon

I’ve run the Yakima River Canyon Marathon twice.  It’s a scenic race that winds through the valley of the Yakima River.

For many years, this race was directed by Lenore Dolphin, who also ran the 100 Marathon Club North America.  The club’s annual meeting was always held at this race.

Sadly, Lenore passed away earlier this year.  The race may continue, but it won’t be the same without Lenore.

Zoom! Yah! Yah! Indoor Marathon

This is an indoor marathon on the campus of St. Olaf College in Northfield, MN.  It was organized by the track coaches of St. Olaf College and Carlton College, which is also in Northfield.  One of them was trying to run marathons for every letter of the alphabet, but was having trouble finding a race that started with Z.  The name, “Zoom! Yah! Yah!” is based on “Um! Yah! Yah!” which is from the St. Olaf College fight song.

To complete a marathon, you need to run 150 laps around the track.  Laps are counted manually by members of the St. Olaf women’s track team.  Each runner has their own personal lap counter, who doubles as their personal cheerleader.

In an indoor race, you see all the other runners throughout the race, regardless of how fast they’re going.  Either you’re passing them, or they’re passing you.  That makes this race a social event.

I’ve run this race three times.  It was after hearing the history of this race that I wondered how many letters of the alphabet I was missing.  As I recall, it was about six.  I gradually chipped away at them until I only needed X.  Then I got stuck.

Race Report: 2020 Xenia Avenue Marathon

On July 19th, I ran the Xenia Avenue Marathon in Champlin, MN.  Not counting virtual races, this was my first marathon since March 1st.  This was a local race, so I didn’t have the additional complications of air travel or staying in a hotel.  Champlin is only 35 miles away from home.

This was an inaugural race.  I first learned about it in March.  My friend Sandy brought it to my attention, because she knew I was looking for a race that had a name starting with the letter X.  At the time, I had a conflict.  July 19th was the same day I was scheduled to fly to Juneau for a series of marathons in Alaska.  Since then, the Alaska Series was cancelled, making it possible for me to run this one instead.

Outdoor events in Minnesota are currently limited to a maximum of 250 participants.  This event was much smaller than that.  There was a marathon and a half marathon, but the two races had only 44 total participants.  That made “social distancing” easier.

There were several safety protocols to minimize the risk of spreading COVID-19.  There were temperature checks before the race.  There was a staggered start.  Runners were required to wear masks in the start area, and for the first quarter mile.  Finally, the aid stations had 16 oz. bottles of water and Gatorade that you could grab off a table, instead of having volunteers hand out cups.

About a week before the race, we were each asked to provide an estimated finish time.  I estimated 4:20, because that’s how long it took me to run a virtual marathon two weeks ago.  I didn’t know exactly what the weather would be, but I assumed it would be similar.

The course was a 2.2 mile loop that we ran once, followed by a 4.8 mile loop that we ran five times.  On Monday, I ran both loops by myself, to familiarize myself with the course.  Even with no course markings, I didn’t have any trouble finding all the turns.  As advertised, the course was flat.

After surveying the course, I took the opportunity to stop at Rocky Rococo for lunch.  Rocky Rococo is a Wisconsin-based pizza chain, but they also have a restaurant in Brooklyn Park, MN.  I like their pizza, but I don’t get to Brooklyn Park very often.  As it happens, it’s just south of Champlin, so picking up my race packet put me in the same area.  Rocky Rococo is a fast food pizzeria.  They serve pan-style pizza by the slice, and they have a drive through window.

I could’ve picked up my race packet Sunday morning, but I drove to Champlin on Saturday afternoon instead.  There were two advantages in doing that.  First, I didn’t have to arrive as early on race day, so I could sleep a little later.  Second, it gave me a chance to stop at Rocky Rococo again.

We were assigned bib numbers in order of our expected finish times, and we were instructed to line up according to our bib numbers.  In addition to our race bibs and T-shirts, we each got masks, paper towels and bottles of hand sanitizer.  The paper towels and hand sanitizer were so we could clean up after ourselves if we had to use a port-o-potty during the race.

Sunday morning, I drove back to Champlin and parked at Champlin Park High School, which is across the street from Orchard Trail Park.  I checked in at the start area and then waited in my car until it was almost time to line up for the race.

I was surprised how many of the other runners I knew.  There were several local runners, who do most of the Minnesota marathons.  In addition, I saw several friends who traveled from other states to do this race.  They’re all frequent marathoners, and like me, they were eager for any opportunity to do a real race.

We really dodged a bullet on the weather.  On Saturday, the high was in the 90s, and it was so humid that the heat index got up to 108 degrees.  Overnight, a thunderstorm moved through the area, bringing cooler temperatures and much lower humidity.

Behind the starting line, two sets of numbers were written on the sidewalk in chalk.  The bib numbers for the marathon were written on the left side of the path, spaced six feet apart.  The bib numbers for the half marathon were written on the right side of the path.  Before the race, we each stood on our bib numbers to await the start.

This race was a fundraiser for the Champlin Park High School girls’ cross-country team.  As part of the pre-race announcements, the race director announced that we raised more than $5,000 for the team.

When the gun went off, the lead runner in each race started running.  The rest of us started walking forward until the next pair of runners reached the starting line.  Then they started running.  We continued this process until everyone was across the starting line.  The whole process probably took less than a minute.

As I started running, I followed the runner ahead of me.  The pace felt too slow, so after a minute or so, I moved around him and found my own pace.  I kept my mask on until I could see that I had run more than a quarter mile.  Then I took it off.  There was a trash bin where we could discard our masks, but I put mine in a baggie and tucked it into my fanny pack, in case I wanted to wear it again after finishing.

Shortly after leaving Orchard park, we turned onto the Rush Creek Regional Trail.  On our first lap, we were only on this trail briefly before turning onto a spur that led into a residential neighborhood.  We went south on York Avenue and then came back on Xenia Avenue.  We were only on Xenia Avenue for about two blocks.  Why was the race named after Xenia Avenue?  The race director knew that there are eccentric runners like me who want to run marathons for every letter of the alphabet.  X is the letter that’s hardest to find.

I rarely wear a GPS watch for races.  Most of the time, I wear a regular stopwatch and check my time at each mile marker.  Since this was a multiple loop course, the individual miles weren’t marked.  I wanted to know my pace, so I wore a GPS watch.  That made me aware of my splits for each mile, but I rarely paid attention to my total time.

My first two miles were both under nine minutes.  That was about a minute per mile faster than I expected to start.  The pace felt surprising easy, so I didn’t worry too much about it at first.  The temperature at the start was 70 degrees.  That’s the same as the virtual marathon that I ran two weeks ago, but the humidity was much lower.  I was more comfortable than I’ve been on any of my recent training runs.

After the initial 2.2 mile loop, we did five laps of a 4.8 mile loop.  As I left Orchard Park to begin the first of these laps, I had to make a decision about my pace.  I was starting the race on pace to break four hours.  That didn’t seem realistic for a summer day, but I decided to stick with it as long as it felt comfortable.

One of the aid stations was in Orchard Trail Park, next to the starting line.  I grabbed a bottle of Gatorade, drank half, and took the rest with me.  I wore a fuel belt, so I would have a place to tuck the bottle as I ran.

After leaving Orchard Trail Park, we again turned right onto the Rush Creek Regional Trail.  Running west on this trail, I felt a strong breeze.  It kept me nice and comfortable. This time we followed the trail through a bridge under Douglas Drive, which was the only busy street we would cross.

As I ran through the tunnel, I drank the rest of my Gatorade.  After the tunnel, we ran through Oak Grove Park.  There were lots of bends in the trail, so I was tempted to run the tangents on the turns.  Rush Creek Regional Trail is a popular route for cyclists, so I often had to move to the right when a bike was approaching.

We ran all the way through the park and then did a short out-and back on the west side of the park.  Just before the turnaround point, I saw my split for the 4th mile.  I inadvertently sped up to 8:38 in that mile.  I told myself to relax.  After that, I averaged nine minutes per mile for the next several miles.

After returning to the park, we turned onto another trail that took us south, past the pavilion and playground.

The second aid station was in Oak Grove Park, near the playground.  I discarded my empty bottle, picked up a new bottle, and drank half.  After leaving the south end of the park, we ran a short loop that took us around this meadow.

Finally, we returned to the park and passed the same aid station again.  Just before I got to the aid station, I emptied my second bottle and recycled it, but I didn’t grab a new one.  By now, I realized I would pass aid stations three times during each lap.  That’s an aid station every 1.6 miles.  Drinking a bottle of Gatorade for every aid station would’ve been excessive.  Instead I started picking up a new bottle at every other aid station.  That was still a lot of Gatorade, but as long as I could drink that much without needing to pee, I figured I would stick with it.

After going through this aid station for a second time, I made a right turn onto Rush Creek Regional Trail and retraced my route back to Orchard Trail Park.  As I approached a sharp turn, I heard a bike zoom around the corner from the other direction.  The sun was in my eyes, so I never saw the bike coming.  Fortunately, I was keeping to the right side of the trail.  If I had moved left to take the shortest path around the turn, I could easily have collided with the bike.  After that, I was diligent about keeping right at all times when I was on this trail.

I kept a consistent pace through my second lap of the 4.8 mile loop.  As I began my third lap, I started to speed up.  I ran two consecutive miles in the 8:30s.  I didn’t intend to speed up, but I think I was getting excited as I anticipated hitting the halfway point during my third lap.

I reached the halfway mark in 1:56:08.  That surprised me.  I knew I was on pace to break four hours, but I didn’t expect to be almost four minutes ahead of that pace.  Now, I was confident I could break four hours.  I still felt good, and I actually had room to slow down.

The rest of my miles were all faster than nine minutes.  I started running some of them as fast as 8:30.  As I finished the next lap, I just had 9.6 miles to go.

I’ve run several marathons that were multiple loops.  The distance of this loop was similar to the loop I was running for the Savage Seven races last December.  That gave me a good feel for how my pace should feel during each lap.  With two laps to go, I knew I could easily sustain my pace.

In my 4th lap, I was consistently clocking mile splits in the vicinity of 8:30.  I could afford to slow down, but I was actually speeding up.

Only one part of the loop felt difficult.  After finishing the loop around the meadow, we always had to turn into the wind as we returned to Oak Grove Park.  This trail was more wind-exposed than the main trail, so running into the wind here felt tiring.  I always reminded myself that the wind was also keeping me from overheating.  The wind was my friend.

The last mile of that lap took 8:16.  That was my fastest mile so far, and I carried that pace into the last lap.  The first three full miles of that lap all took between 8:15 and 8:20.  I wasn’t going all-out, but I was gradually picking up my effort.

I always felt like I was taking too long to drink at the aid stations.  In my last lap, I worked hard to make sure I got back to my previous pace after slowing to a walk while I drank.

When I went past the aid station in Oak Grove Park for the last time, I knew I was drinking Gatorade for the last time.  No more walking breaks.  Shortly after getting back onto the main trail, I hit the 24 mile mark.  I was pleased to see that I sped up to 8:10 in that mile.  That was my fastest mile so far.  I was confident I could break eight minutes in my last full mile if I poured it on.  I knew I must be going significantly faster in that mile, because I got cheers from all the volunteers.

At this point, I need to point out how impressed I am with how well organized this race was.  There was a pair of volunteers at every major turn or junction.  I learned after the race that the volunteers were all members of the Champlin Park High School cross-country team or their parents.

The race was chip-timed, the course was certified, and we had aid stations every 1.6 miles, on average.  That’s more than I expected for such a small race.

I knew my 25th mile would be faster, but I was still surprised when I saw my time.  It was 7:11.  Now I was running out of gas, but I just had to get back to the finish at Orchard Trail Park.  I held on as best as I could, and I finished in 3:46:00.  That was good for third place overall.

I saved my mask from the start, but that turned out to be unnecessary.  After finishing, I was given a clean mask to wear in the finish area.

By the time I finished, the temperature had climbed to 77 degrees.  That’s certainly warm for a marathon, but it didn’t bother me.  Most of my recent training has been in warmer temperatures, with higher humidity.  Today felt nice by comparison.

After finishing, I dropped a few things off at my car and returned to the finish area to watch other runners finish.  Later, I joined two friends for lunch at Rocky Rococo.

It felt good to race again.  Training runs just don’t feel the same.  I’ve really missed this feeling.  I can’t remember when I’ve been this excited about a race that was this small.

Race Statistics

Distance:  26.2 miles

Time:  3:46:00

Average Pace:  8:36

Lifetime Marathons/Ultras:  403

Minnesota Marathons/Ultras:  58

Consecutive sub4 marathons:  11

Virtual Race: Foot Traffic Flat Marathon

There’s a running store in Portland, Oregon call Foot Traffic.  They sponsor an annual event on July 4th called the Flat Marathon.  “The Flat” refers to Sauvie Island, which is a large, relatively flat island in the Columbia River valley.

I’ve done this race five times.  I ran it in 2010, when it was still a stand-alone event.  In 2012, July 4th fell on a Monday, and Steve Walters organized two small races on the weekend.  If you did all three marathons, it was called the Firecracker Triple.

Since then, Steve has held anywhere from two to four races on weekend closest to July 4th, making it possible to run marathons on anywhere from two to five consecutive days.

I ran the Firecracker Triple in 2012, 2014, and 2015.  I also ran the Firecracker Quadzilla in 2013.  Since then, injuries have kept me away.

Last winter, Steve announced that this year would be the last Firecracker Triple.  I signed up for the Foot Traffic Flat Marathon last December and was planning to do Steve’s races as well.

In early January, I found out that the White Nights Marathon in St. Petersburg, Russia had been rescheduled.  I was planning to go there with a tour group, but I wouldn’t fly home until July 1st.  To arrive in Portland in time for the first race of the triple, I would need to fly to Portland the day after getting back from Russia.  The time difference between St. Petersburg and Portland is 12 hours, so I’d be completely jet-lagged right before starting a triple.

It seemed unlikely that I would be able to do both the White Nights Marathon and the Firecracker Triple.  As it turns out, I wouldn’t get a chance to do either.  All of these races were cancelled because of COVID-19.

When they cancelled the Flat Marathon, Foot Traffic announced that they would be holding a virtual race instead.  Anyone who did the virtual race by running 26.2 miles on their own would still receive a T-shirt and this finisher medal.  Since I had already registered for the marathon, I was automatically signed up for the virtual race.

I don’t usually get excited about virtual races, and I don’t run just for the T-shirts and medals, but I had other reasons for wanting to do this virtual race.

The Flat Marathon is always held on July 4th.  The course starts and finishes at a country store called the Pumpkin Patch Market.  During the race, you run past farms and strawberry patches.  Post-race food always includes hot dogs and strawberry shortcake made with strawberries grown on the island.  Even if I couldn’t run on Sauvie Island, I liked the idea of running a marathon on July 4th and then eating strawberry shortcake after finishing.

It's been a long time since I last ran a marathon.  For several weeks, I was running 40-50 miles a week, but I wasn’t doing any long training runs.  At the beginning of June, I started doing weekly long runs.  I started with 14 miles, and continued with runs of 16, 20, and 23 miles.  I was ready for a full 26.2 miles.

According to the rules of the virtual marathon, you could go out by yourself and run 26.2 miles on any day from July 3rd to July 15th.  I could’ve picked the day with the most favorable weather, but I really wanted to do my virtual marathon on July 4th.  Unfortunately, that wasn’t the best day for weather.

Portland is only about 100 miles from the Pacific coast.  Even in July, there’s a limit to how hot it can get.  There have been years when weather for the race got a bit warm, but I never found the weather for the Flat Marathon to be intolerably hot.  I qualified for Boston four times out of five attempts.  The time I didn’t, I was running with injuries.

Minnesota, by contrast, is about 1,000 miles from the nearest ocean.  We get some pretty wide temperature swings.  As I started looking at long-range forecasts, I knew I was in for a hot one.  We’re in the middle of a stretch of 90-degree days.

I went to bed early on Friday, but I only slept for about an hour before waking up.  Someone in the neighborhood was shooting off fireworks, and the noise kept me awake until they were done.  By then, I was wide awake and couldn’t get back to sleep for hours.  I only got a few hours of sleep before I needed to get up.

I got up early to avoid the worst of the heat, but even in the early morning, the temperature never dropped below 70.  The dew point was in the upper 60s, making it feel more like 79.

My route was a 1.75-mile loop through my neighborhood.  To finish a marathon, I had to run 15 laps.  I filled a cooler with Gatorade bottles and ice and set it next to my driveway, so I could stop and drink after every lap.

For training runs, I don’t usually wear a watch.  I do most of my training at a pace that feels comfortable.  If I’m not doing speed work, I don’t need to know my time.  I also don’t worry about measuring the distance, if it’s a route that I’ve measured before.

Today was an exception.  I wore a GPS watch.  I not only needed to know my time, but I needed to measure the distance.  Although I’ve measured this route before, the distance can vary slightly, depending on whether I’m making an effort to run the tangents. 

I usually start really slow and ease into my pace as I warm up.  Today, I started a little faster than usual.  I didn’t intend to do that.  I think I have a subconscious tendency to go faster when I know I’m being timed.  As soon as I realized I was doing that, I backed off a little.

On training runs, I don’t usually pay attention to exactly when I finish each mile.  I choose a route and decided how many laps I’m going to run.  After that, I only care how many laps I’ve finished and how many laps I have left.  Today, my watch was recording splits after each mile.  One mile into my run, I felt my watch vibrate, and I looked down.  I ran the first mile in 9:46.  That pace struck me as unsustainable.

Two weeks ago, I did a 23-mile training run.  I ran my first lap slightly faster than a 10 minutes per mile pace.  After that, I slowed down.  By the end, I was going slower than 11 minutes per mile.  That was a hot day, but today was going to get just as hot.  Not wanting to blow up, I made a point of slowing down in the next mile.

When I finished my first lap, I stopped to drink some Gatorade.  I ate breakfast about an hour before I started, and I still felt like I had a full stomach.  I could only drink a few sips.

As I finished drinking, I glanced at my watch.  The distance was 1.75 miles.  I checked again after every lap.  It was usually a multiple of 1.75.  If not, it was off by only 0.01.  It was reassuring to see that the route that I’ve always recorded as 1.75 was consistently measuring to be 1.75.

My second mile was 10:20.  Few the next several miles, my splits bounced between 10 minutes and 10:30.  I wasn’t too focused on my pace.  I was trying to stay within my comfort zone.  I didn’t have a goal for how fast I wanted to run today.  Mostly, I just wanted to finish.  In the early miles, I ran conservatively, so I wouldn’t blow up in the heat.

After my second lap, I again found that I could only drink a few sips of Gatorade.  After my third lap, I drank more.  After my fourth lap, I finished the bottle.  I had four more bottles in my cooler.  For the rest of my run, I set a goal of finishing another bottle every three laps.

When I finished my fifth lap, I was one third done.  In those first five laps, the sun was still below the tree tops.  I noticed the humidity, but it wasn’t that hot yet.  Now I was entering the middle laps, and the sun was getting high enough in the sky that I could feel it.  If the early laps were all about the humidity, the middle laps were all about the warmth of the sun.

My mile splits got more erratic.  On average, I was still going the same pace, but some miles were as fast as the 9:50s, and other were as slow as the 10:30s.  I was still treating this like a long training run.  At times, my mind would wander, and I would slow down.  When I paid more attention to my running, I ran faster.

In a real race, I tend to be focused like a laser on my pace and effort.  Sometimes, friends will wave or shout to me, and I won’t even notice them.  The first time I ran the Boston Marathon, I didn’t even notice the Wellesley “scream tunnel.”  Today, I let myself drift.  Sometimes, I was thinking about my effort.  Other times, I was looking for wild rabbits and squirrels.

At the end of my seventh lap, I forced myself to finish my second bottle of Gatorade.  As I began the next lap, I glanced at my arm.  I realized every inch of my body was covered with sweat.

When I passed the 13-mile mark, I decided to pay attention to my halfway split.  When I got there, I was on pace to break 4:30, but I fully expected to slow down in the second half.

As is often the case in real races, I felt a psychological lift when I knew I was past the halfway mark.  The remaining distance was still much more than what I’ve been doing in most of my training runs, but I didn’t look at it that way.  Instead, I told myself the remaining distance was less than what I had done so far.

At the end of my tenth lap, I was two thirds done with a marathon.  I had been checking all my mile times, but I seldom looked at my total time.  With five laps to go, my time was 2:58 and change.  Not only was I still on pace to break 4:30, but I had sped up slightly since the halfway mark.

Now the temperature was rising rapidly.  Up until now, I ran at a pace that felt comfortable.  It occurred to me that the remaining laps would probably be uncomfortable no matter what pace I ran.  Even though I expected the remaining laps to be a struggle, I challenged myself to lift my effort enough to keep running the same pace.  I expected each lap to be more difficult than the one before, but I only had five laps to go.  That seemed manageable.

Running a marathon is at least as much psychological as it is physical.  At this point in my run, I made the mental transition from training mode to race mode.  I was ready to push myself to run harder.

I was already halfway through my 18th mile.  That mile took 10:13, but then I began consistently running mile times in the 9:50s.  It took more effort, but I was getting it done.

As I began my 13th lap, I caught myself starting at a slower pace.  I had a momentary lapse in concentration.  That’s the sort of thing that happens when you get hot.  Heat doesn’t just affect you physically.  It can also affect you mentally.

I wanted to immediately pick up my pace, but the beginning of my route is slightly uphill.  I waited until I crested the hill.  Then I used a gradual downhill section to get back into my previous pace.  When the road leveled out, I picked up my effort to keep up the same pace.  Evidently, I overcompensated.  That mile was 9:17, which was my fastest so far.

In my next mile, I slowed to 9:54, but I was still keeping my splits under 10 minutes.  If I kept that up, I would easily break 4:30.

I’m not very good at visualizing, but I tried to imagine where I would be if I was actually running on Sauvie Island.  The first half of that course includes a long out-and-back along the western side of the island.  After that, you turn onto a road that cuts across the middle of the island.  When you reach the east side, you turn onto a road that brings you back to Pumpkin Patch Market.  If I remember right, the 23-mile mark is pretty close to where you make that last major turn.

I could picture where I would be on that course, but trying to visualize the rest of that course wasn’t helpful.  The last few miles zigzag past a lot of open farmland.  Eventually, you can see a cluster of trees in the distance.  The finish is somewhere in the middle of that cluster of trees.

I’ve always found those last few miles to be difficult.  They seem to go on forever.  I decided to go back to paying attention to the route I was running today.  I had slight less than two laps to go.

As I finished my 14th lap, I glanced at my watch.  My time so far was 4:06 and change.  I was easily going to break 4:30.  I was crushing it.  As I began my last lap, I started to wonder if I could break 4:22.  That’s an average pace of 10 minutes per mile.  It occurred to me that my current pace wasn’t quite fast enough, but if I poured it on in my last lap, it was definitely possible.  I was hoping to average 9:00 per mile the rest of the way.

By now, I was beginning a downhill stretch.  That’s where I began my push.  At 25 miles, I checked my split.  That mile was 9:28, but I didn’t begin my push until the last quarter mile.  I fought hard through the next mile.

With about a quarter mile to go in that lap, I felt my watch vibrate.  I was already at 26 miles.  What was my split?  Did I break nine minutes?  It was 7:54!  I had more left in the tank than I realized.

As I neared the end of the lap, I started paying attention to the distance.  I didn’t actually need to run all the way to my driveway.  I planned to stop my watch when it read 26.22 miles.  Most people would probably stop it at 26.2, but a marathon isn’t exactly 26.2 miles.  It’s slightly longer.

GPS isn’t as accurate as most people think it is.  It’s not accurate enough to measure a marathon course.  It’s all I had, though, so it’s what I used.  When it read 26.22 miles, I stopped it and walked the short distance back to my driveway.  My time was 4:20:29.  That’s slower than I usually run a marathon, but I’m happy with it.  I ran negative splits by nine minutes, despite rising temperatures.

After finishing, I checked the weather app on my phone to see how hot it got.  It was now 85 degrees, with a “feels like” temperature of 96.

I also looked up the weather conditions in Portland.  It might not be a fair comparison, because it was still two hours earlier in Portland, but the temperature there was only 59 degrees.  If circumstances were different, I would’ve much preferred to run this marathon in Portland.

When you run the race on Sauvie Island, your race bib has tear-off tickets for strawberry shortcake and a hot dog.  On Friday, I baked a pan of shortcake and mashed some strawberries.  After finishing my virtual marathon, I celebrated with homemade strawberry shortcake.

As soon as I finished, Deb went up to Dairy Queen and brought back hot dogs and sundaes.  In addition to the strawberry shortcake, I also got to have my post-race hot dog.

This was basically a glorified training run, but it started to feel more like a race in the late miles.  I’ve really missed that feeling of pushing hard in the late miles of a race.  Having this one under my belt will also give me more confidence when I run my next marathon.

Race Statistics
Distance:  26.22 miles
Time:  4:20:29
Average Pace:  9:56