Race Report: 2020 Millennium Meadows Marathon

On August 30, I ran the Millennium Meadows Marathon in Grand Rapids, MI.  Excluding virtual races, this was my third marathon of the summer.  These three marathons had the following things in common.

1)      Each one was limited to 100 or fewer runners.

2)      They each had some form of staggered start.

3)      They each had a loop course, so there were only one or two aid stations.

4)      Packet pickup was held outdoors, instead of using an indoor venue.

5)      There wasn’t any pre-race dinner or post-race party.

This is what races look like during a pandemic.

When Deb and I traveled to Michigan three weeks ago, we didn’t know what air travel would be like.  This time, I knew exactly what to expect.  I was flying into the same airport.  In fact, I was on the exact same flight, and I was renting a car from the same rental agency, so everything about the travel experience felt familiar.

I was originally planning to have lunch at a brewery near the airport, but my flight arrived early, and as I was leaving the rental car garage, I realized they wouldn’t be open yet.  Instead, I drove to my hotel, in hopes that my room would be ready early.

I stayed in a downtown hotel.  Not only was it convenient for the race, but my hotel was within walking distance of several restaurants and breweries.  I didn’t know which ones were open and which ones had outdoor seating, so I wanted to have lots of options.  The only downside was having to pay for parking at the hotel.

I was able to check in when I arrived.  After packing a few things, I walked to a nearby restaurant to eat lunch.

In the afternoon, I went to Millennium Park to pick up my race packet.  This was the same place where the race would start and finish.   I could’ve picked up my packet Sunday morning, but they were encouraging people to pick up their race packets on Saturday, if possible.  That way it wouldn’t be as crowded in the park before the race.

Driving to packet pickup gave me a preview of my driving directions for the race.  One of the roads looks kind of sketchy, so I was glad I got to see it in daylight before driving it in the dark.  I also got to check out the parking situation.

In addition to my race bib and T-shirt, I received a yellow bandana.  We were required to wear some type of face covering before the start of the race.  One option was to wear the bandana.  We could also bring our own masks.

Grand Rapids is known for its breweries.  It’s sometimes called “Beer City.”  This was my first visit to Grand Rapids, so I wanted to visit a few breweries, if possible.  There were several breweries within walking distance of my hotel, although a few of them are temporarily closed.  I looked for breweries that also served food and had outdoor seating.  There were more than enough.  For dinner, I went to Grand Rapids Brewing Company.

Instead of their usual breakfast service, the hotel had grab-and-go breakfast bags.  I picked up a bag on Saturday, so I could eat an early breakfast in my room Sunday morning.

The weather on race morning was the best I’ve seen in months.  The temperature for the start of the race was in the upper 50s.

The race started and finished at the Meadows inside Millennium Park.  There were three waves for the marathon.  People needing more than six hours started at 6:00.  People expecting to finish in less than four hours started at 6:30.  Everyone else started at 6:40.  Other race distances had their own start times.

We lined up at least six feet apart and started one at a time.  Every five seconds another runner started.  Face coverings were required until we started running.  Rather than use the bandana provided, I wore a surgical mask.  After I started running, I took it off and tucked it in a baggie inside my fanny pack.

I didn’t know how fast I could expect to run.  I’ve been putting in lots of mileage, but it’s all been at an easy pace.  I haven’t been working on speed.  In a normal year, I depend on frequent racing to stay sharp.  I’ve only run two marathons since March.  One was a trail race, and both were hot.  In July, I ran the Xenia Avenue Marathon in 3:46, so it seemed like I ought to be able to run at least that fast in cooler conditions.

Most of the course was on a four-mile loop through the park, which we ran six times.  We also had to run about a mile to get from the park pavilion to the loop, and a similar distance at the end.

We started out by crossing a long wooden bridge.  After that we followed a path that took us to a road.  After a U-turn onto the road, we continued until we reached the main loop.

I didn’t have any feel for what my pace should feel like.  I started at a pace that was faster than my training runs.  Other than that, I followed the runners in front of me.

My first mile took 8:17.  That’s faster than my pace at the Xenia Avenue Marathon, but not fast enough for a Boston qualifying time.  I didn’t think a faster pace would be sustainable, so I kept up the same effort.  By now, I was following a runner in a red shirt who was about 50 feet in front of me.

There were two aid stations.  One was at the beginning of the loop.  The other was halfway through.  Aid station protocols were revised because of COVID-19.  They had water and Gatorade, but no food.  That’s fine with me.  I usually just drink Gatorade.  Volunteers filled cups, but they didn’t hand them to the runners.  Instead, they put cups on the tables, and we could grab them as we went by.

Early in the loop, we were near a river.  The sun was still below the horizon, but there was enough light to see the water.  It was as smooth as glass.  I regretted not having a camera or phone with me to take pictures.  The keys for my rental car were so bulky that there wasn’t room in my fanny pack.

The pace in the second mile felt too fast.  I was still following the runner in the red shirt, and I wondered if he was pulling me into a pace that was too fast.  My second mile was 8:22, which was slower than the first one.  That confirmed that I shouldn’t try to speed up to a Boston-qualifying pace.

In the next mile, I started to fall farther behind the runner in the red shirt.  Was I slowing down?  No.  I actually sped up to 8:15 in that mile.  He sped up more.

Shortly after the three mile mark, I noticed an awful smell.  It smelled like oil, but I couldn’t see where it was coming from.  It was still somewhat dark.

The first half of the loop was flat, but in the second half, I noticed a few small hills.  I didn’t try to maintain my pace going over hills.  I just maintained a consistent effort.  There were also more turns, and I occasionally lost sight of the guy in the red shirt.

In the last mile of the loop, I looked across some water on my right and saw a long wooden bridge.  I assumed that was the bridge we ran across in the first mile and that I would eventually run back across it in the last mile.  I was wrong, but I wouldn’t realize that until much later.

By the end of my first lap, I lost sight of the runner in front of me.  Was I settling into a slower pace?  No.  I actually sped up to 8:09 in that mile.

As I neared the end of the loop, I saw a sign pointing to the right that read, “13.1.”  That showed where half marathoners would turn after completing their third lap.  A short time later, I saw another sign pointing to the right that read, “26.”  That showed where I would need to turn right to run to the finish after completing my sixth lap.

My recollection from looking at the course map was that I would turn left after each lap to start the next one.  Then I saw a sign pointing to the right that read, “6.”  I had just passed the five mile mark, so I incorrectly interpreted this sign as pointing the way to mile six.  In fact, there was also a six mile race, and this was pointing the way to their finish.

It seemed wrong to me, but I started to turn right.  Several volunteers immediately said, “No. No. Turn left.”  If not for the volunteers, I easily could’ve made a wrong turn.

The half marathon started later than the marathon.  As I started running my second lap, I started to see lots more runners.  I had lost sight of the runner in the red shirt.  All the runners I saw now were doing the half marathon.  Several of them were starting their first lap at the same time I was starting my second lap.

I had no idea what pace these runners were going.  I had to do my best to ignore them and run my own pace.

As I came alongside the river again, it looked different.  By now, the sun had risen, but it was still below the trees.  There was enough light to illuminate the water, but there were small patches of fog.  Again, I regretted not having a camera.

Halfway through my second lap, I again noticed a foul oil smell.  To my right, on top of a small hill, I saw a large oil tank.  How old was that tank?  Was it still full of oil?  Was it corroded and leaking oil?  I noticed that smell every lap.  It was hard to ignore.  It was nauseating.

I started to feel pressure building in my intestines.  I thought I did a good job of emptying them before the race, but I seemed clear I would eventually need a bathroom stop.  I didn’t notice any port-o-potties on my first lap.  When I reached the aid station on the middle of the lap, I was relieved to see a port-o-potty there.  I didn’t need to stop yet, but it was good to know I could stop here on my next lap, if necessary.

I wondered if I would slow down, now that I was no longer trying to keep up with the runner who used to be right in front of me.  As it turns out, my pace was about the same in this lap, but my mile times were more erratic.  They ranged from 8:07 to 8:31.

By the last mile of my second lap, I felt more pressure in me intestines.  I knew I needed a bathroom stop.  I didn’t know if I could make it back to the aid station I just passed, so I was really hoping there was another port-o-potty at the start of the next lap.  Thankfully, there was.

As I finished my second lap, and got to the aid station, I went straight for the port-o-potty.  I knew I was losing time, but I took as much time as I needed to empty out as much as I could.

As I started my third lap, I didn’t know if I would get back to the same pace.  Fortunately, it was early enough in the race that stopping for a couple minutes didn’t cause my legs to get stiff.  I did, however, start to feel cold.  We were well-shaded, and a couple of minutes of not moving were enough for me to cool off.

When I finished my 10th mile, I checked my time.  I ran that mile in 10:45, but that included the bathroom stop.  I wouldn’t know my current pace until the next mile.

At the end of my 11th mile, I heard my watch vibrate, but I didn’t look in time to see my mile time.  I had to wait another mile.  At the end of my 12th mile, I finally got to check my pace.  I ran that mile in 8:22.  I did get back to roughly the same pace as before.

By the last mile of my third lap, it was apparent I would need another bathroom stop.  I wasn’t paying any attention to my pace or my effort.  I just wanted to get through that mile and finish the lap.  When I got to the 13 mile mark, I was shocked to see that I sped up to 8:01 in that mile.  That was my fastest mile so far.

As I finished that lap, I was half done with the race.  My time for the first half was 3:50, but I was about to take another long bathroom stop.  When I got into the port-o-potty, I was relieved to see that I didn’t have an accident.  My shorts were feeling wet, but apparently that was just sweat.  I still had to relieve the pressure in my intestines, though.  Once again, I took as much time as I needed.

After another long bathroom stop, I didn’t know if I could find the motivation to get back into my previous pace.  It started to seem like my pace didn’t matter.

My mile time for mile 14 was meaningless, because it included a bathroom stop.  My mile time for the 15th mile, however, was 8:20.  I got back into the same pace as before.  For the rest of my fourth lap, my mile times were similar to earlier laps.

By the end of that lap, I was starting to notice swelling in my fingers.  That can be a symptom of hyponatremia, which is caused by overhydrating and/or lack of salt.  I’ve experienced that in ultramarathons, but never in a marathon.  My fingers were so swollen that my skin felt tight.  It was difficult to move my fingers.  I was drinking a small cup of Gatorade every two miles.  That didn’t seem excessive.

The good news was that I didn’t need to make a bathroom stop that lap.  Apparently, I finally got everything out of my system.

I maintained the same average pace through my fifth lap, but I needed to work harder just to run the same pace.  I knew I’d have more motivation in my last lap, but it seemed like I was running out of gas.

As I started my sixth lap, I looked at my watch.  Up until then this point, I had been paying attention to my individual mile times, but not my cumulative time.  It was obvious now that I would break four hours by a wide margin, even if I slowed dramatically in the last lap.  If I could maintain my current pace, I would beat my time from the Xenia Avenue Marathon, in spite of the time I lost because of bathroom stops.  That gave me the motivation I needed.

The last lap of a multi-loop course is always easier, because you know you’re seeing everything for the last time.  By now, the entire loop was getting pretty familiar.  My favorite sight was the river.  This was the only part of the loop that looked different each time.  As the sun climbed higher in the sky, the light hit the water from different angles.

I recognized the turn that marked the easternmost point on the loop.  After that I was mostly running back towards the start/finish area.

Shortly after the midpoint of the lap, I smelled the oil again.  That was my least favorite part of the loop, but I was past it for the last time.

The first three miles of that lap were all either 8:12 or 8:13.  I was speeding up a bit.  I realized by now that the last mile of each lap was always my fastest.  The first two miles of the loop were flat.  The third mile was slightly uphill, but the fourth mile was slightly downhill.  How fast would I run it this time?  I had been as fast as 8:01.  Would I break eight minutes?

During that mile I saw the long wooden bridge again.  I still assumed I would run over that bridge at the end of the race.

Then I heard cheering.  It came from somewhere across the water on my right.  I looked across the water and saw the pavilion near the finish line.  I never noticed before that you could see it from here.  I was hearing cheers for runners who were finishing.

I finished that mile in 7:57.  That was my fastest mile so far.  There was no question I would beat my time from the Xenia Avenue Marathon.

I finished the lap, and made the right turn to leave the loop.  Now I was on a road.  There weren’t any course markings here, and I couldn’t see any runners in front of me.  If I hadn’t run this road to get to the loop at the beginning of the race, I would think I made a wrong turn.

I heard mechanical noises.  I looked to my right and saw an oil rig.  As I got past it, I smelled oil again, but it wasn’t as strong as the smell near the big oil tank.  We were running through a park that struck me as a nature preserve, yet they were pumping oil here.  That seemed wrong.

As I got farther down the road, I saw a runner in the distance.  I wasn’t the only one on this road.  Eventually, I saw him turn right.  Then I saw traffic cones where he turned.  That was the U-turn from the road to the paced path.

After the turn, it was slightly uphill.  Assumed I was climbing up to bridge, but I never saw it.  At the 26 mile mark, I still couldn’t see the bridge.  Then, after making a turn, I saw the bridge on my right.  I wasn’t going to cross it, but I saw other runners who were.  I realized they were runners who were finishing the half marathon.  They took a more direct route back to the start/finish area.  My route back was not only different from theirs, but also different from the route we took in the first mile.  I merged with the half marathoners and continued toward the finish line.

I finished in 3:42:27.  I took satisfaction in knowing that my bathroom stops didn’t prevent me from running my fastest race of the summer.  Without those stops, I would’ve had a time in the high 3:30s.

The artwork on the finisher medal depicts the bridge.  I only ran over this bridge once, but runners doing the half marathon ran over it twice.

I had lunch at New Holland Knickerbocker with some friends who I didn’t know would be at this race.  Three weeks ago, Deb and I went to the New Holland brewery in Holland, MI.  This one has the same menu, so I was able to have the same post-race pizza.  It’s their pickle pizza, which has cheese curds, bacon, and pickles.  I also had a beer flight.

There was still one more brewery I wanted to visit.  Later in the day, I went to Founders Brewing Company for dinner and a flight of their beers.

I’ve completed at least three marathons or ultras in all 50 states.  One of my long-term goals is to eventually complete at least five on each state.  I haven’t made much progress on that this year.  Three weeks ago, I ran my 4th marathon in Michigan.  This was my 5th, so I’m done with Michigan.

Race Statistics

Distance:  26.2 miles

Time:  3:42:27

Average Pace: 8:29

Lifetime Marathons/Ultras:  405

Michigan Marathons:  5

Race Report: 2020 Riley Trails Marathon

Deb and I just got back from a long weekend in Holland, Michigan.  While we were there, I ran the Riley Trails Marathon.  This was a trip we planned several months ago.  Deb wanted to visit Holland, and they had a marathon that fell on the weekend on our anniversary.

We booked this trip before the COVID-19 pandemic.  It’s not something we would have planned in the current environment, but Michigan isn’t currently a “hot spot.”  We were a little nervous about traveling, but we decided the risk was manageable.  There are lots of other places where we wouldn’t consider traveling right now.

We flew to Michigan Thursday morning.  The closest major airport is in Grand Rapids.  From there, the drive time to Holland is about 50 minutes.  It was the first time since early March that either of us had been on an airplane.  Air travel is quite a bit different than it used to be.  Without knowing what to expect, we arrived at the airport two hours before our flight.

Ordinarily, we would’ve taken a taxi, but we decided to drive to the airport instead.  Parking at the airport is expensive, but this way we didn’t have to get in a car that had been used by who knows how many other people.

Inside the airport terminal, masks are required.  The only time we took them off was at the TSA checkpoint, where they need to see your faces as they look at your photo IDs.  There wasn’t any line to check a bag, nor was there a line at the TSA checkpoint.  The only line was going through the scanners.

The airport terminal was far less crowded than it used to be, but not as quiet as I expected it to be.  About half of the shops and restaurants were open.

The airline isn’t doing their usual mid-flight food and beverage service.  Instead, everyone was given a plastic bag with hand sanitizer, snacks and a water bottle.  Masks were required during the flight, but it was a direct flight, and the flight time was only an hour and a half from gate to gate.

By the time we got to Grand Rapids and picked up our rental car, it was almost lunch time.  Before our trip, we did some research to identify restaurants that had outdoor seating.  We picked out a restaurant in Zeeland, which is on the way, but when we got there, all of the outside seating was taken.  Several large groups were seated about five minutes before we got there.  We found another restaurant in Zeeland that had plenty of outdoor seating.  After lunch, we continued to our hotel.

Holland, MI was settled by Dutch immigrants, and the town still reflects that heritage.  They have an authentic Dutch windmill that’s still operational.  When I read it was the only one in the United States, I was skeptical.  Two years ago, we saw an operational windmill in Pella, IA that was built in the Netherlands and then shipped to Pella, where it was assembled.  The windmill in Holland was actually used in the Netherlands for more than 200 years.  In 1964, it was disassembled and shipped to Michigan, where it was reassembled.

The windmill is located on an island at the east end of Lake Macatawa.   The island is also home to Windmill Island Gardens and Little Netherlands Village.

Next, we drove downtown.  We didn’t spend as much time window-shopping as we originally planned.  Neither of us slept well the night before, and Deb was feeling dehydrated, so we had an early dinner, stopped to buy groceries, and then returned to the hotel to relax.

Because of COVID-19, the restaurant at the hotel is closed.  That meant we couldn’t eat breakfast there.  That led us to discover Russ’ Restaurant, which has excellent breakfasts. Deb had their cinnamon bread French toast, and I had a Belgian waffle with pecans baked into it.

Many of the indoor attractions are closed, but we had no trouble finding things to do that were mostly outdoors.  After breakfast, we went to see a collection of Wizard of Oz statues outside the library.  L. Frank Baum, who wrote “The Wonderful Wizard of Oz,” had a cottage near Holland, and is believed to have written portions of the book while he was staying there.

While we were there, we walked across the street to see the gardens and fountain in Centennial Park.  In the spring, they have tulip gardens here.

Next, we went to Nelis’ Dutch Village.  This is a mock-up of a Dutch village, which also has souvenir shops and amusement park rides for children.  Ordinarily, they have demonstrations of how delftware and wooden shoes are made.  Those aren’t going on right now, but we still saw the exhibit areas and read about them.

We also saw the animal barn.

We were at Nelis’ Dutch Village for more than three hours.  While we were there, we had lunch in their café.

After spending so much time at the Nelis’ Dutch Village, Deb wanted to get off her feet, so she took a break at the hotel, while I went to Riley Trails Park to preview the trails I was going to run on during the marathon.

Because it was the day before the race, the course wasn’t marked yet.  There’s an extensive network of trails that crisscross the park.  Not knowing the course, I just ran trails at random for a few miles.  I didn’t know how much my route had in common with the marathon course, but I got a better idea of what to expect.  These trails weren’t unusually technical, but they seemed much more tiring than running on roads.  I also realized I should wear gaiters during the race.  I regretted not wearing them for my training run.

After I got back, Deb and I went to De Klomp Wooden Shoe and Delftware Factory.  This is the only factory in the United States that makes Dutch delftware.  Their shop is the only place it’s sold.  We saw lots of delftware in the shops at Nelis’ Dutch Village, but those were all made to be sold as souvenirs.  Here, we saw some that were made to be sold to local families.  You could buy complete table sets.  We also saw how it was made.  One woman working there was shaping clay, while another was hand painting the designs.

From there, we drove to the beach at Holland State Park.

We didn’t go there to swim.  The southern end of the beach is the best place to get a view of the “Big Red” lighthouse.

Our last stop of the afternoon was packet pickup at Riley Trails Park.  Then we went downtown to eat dinner.  We didn’t have reservations anywhere, so we had to inquire at several restaurants before finding one where we could get outdoor seating without waiting long.  We had dinner at an Irish Pub on 8th Street, before going back to the hotel to relax.

Saturday was race day.  Our hotel had a basket of grab-and-go breakfast snacks, so I was able to have a muffin and some tea before leaving for the race.

The race organizers had to make a few changes because of COVID-19.   Normally, the race would’ve started in town at Benjamin’s Hope, and each lap would’ve included a mile on streets getting to and from Riley Trails Park.  Instead, the entire race was held in the park.  The field was limited to 100 total runners for the marathon, half marathon, and 10K.  Finally, instead of having a group start, we were told we could start anytime after 8:00 AM.  The race was chip-timed, so our actual time on the course would be timed, regardless of when we started.  We had until 5:00 PM to finish.

Deb dropped me off a few minutes after 8:00.  Some runners had already started, but I saw several others milling about in the start area.  I wore a buff around my neck, which I could pull over my nose and mouth when I was near other runners.  Once I started running, I was mostly by myself, so I could pull the buff down around my neck.

The course was six laps of a trail loop that was roughly 4.4 miles.  There was only one aid station, so I had to carry a bottle.  I packed a fuel belt, but neglected to pack an empty bottle.  Deb had an empty 15 oz. bottle of mango juice that fit surprisingly well into my fuel belt.  Deb rinsed it out, and I used that.  After filling my bottle with Gatorade, I checked in with the timer.  As soon as the previous runner was clear of the starting line, the timer told me to start. 

It was 64 degrees at the start, but I expected it to get up to 80 by the time I finished.  According to the forecast, there was about a 50-50 chance of a morning thunderstorm.  Thankfully, that never materialized.

Shortly after I started running, I felt liquid splashing against my back.  Before long, the back of my shorts felt wet.  I reach back and felt the bottom of the holster of my fuel belt, and it was wet.  My bottle was leaking.  I stopped and drank about half of my bottle.  Then I continued running.  After that, I didn’t notice any more leakage.  Halfway through that lap, I drank the rest of my bottle.  My plan for the rest of the race was to drank half a bottle right after filling it at the start of each lap, and then drink the rest about halfway through the lap.

The trails we were running on were mostly mountain bike trails.  The surface was mostly dirt, but in some places, it was covered with pine needles.

Most of the course had good footing, but in some places, there were roots.  There were also numerous sections with loose dirt.

On my first lap, I was usually within sight of at least one other runner.  I could see the orange trail markers, but I had the luxury of just following the runners in front of me.  I ran somewhat cautiously, as I have a tendency to trip on roots.  They weren’t everywhere, but there were enough that I had to be careful.

We were sharing the trail with bikers and hikers.  The bikers were pretty good about announcing when they approached.  Everyone was good about moving over to make room for people who were passing.

In the last mile of my first lap, I moved ahead of another running, so I no longer had anyone to follow.  After that I had to pay more attention to the course markings.  Mostly, I looked for them when I came to a junction, so I would know which way to turn.  Between the junctions, watching for  markings wasn’t as impor3tant, but it’s always nice to see one, as reassurance that you haven’t missed a turn.

By the time I finished my first lap, I was already in need of a bathroom stop.  It must have been the two cups of tea I had before leaving the hotel.  As I reached the parking area, I saw an outhouse and a port-o-potty.  The outhouse was closer to the trail, so I used that.  That was a mistake.  It stunk.

I came into this race with a streak of 11 consecutive sub4 finishes, but by the time I finished by first lap, it was obvious I wouldn’t run that fast.  I was on pace for a time in the 4:30s, and if anything, I was going to slow down in subsequent laps.  My pace was much slower than my pace for road marathons, yet it still felt tiring.

I refilled my bottle with Gatorade, but immediately drank half of it.  My hope was that that would prevent any leakage through the cap as I ran.  As I began my second lap, I again felt drops hitting my back.  I pulled the bottle out to check.  The cap wasn’t on straight.  After I fixed the cap, I didn’t have any more problems.  In subsequent laps, I paid more attention to that.

About half a mile into my second lap, I tripped on something hard.  I didn’t fall, but my right quadricep absorbed a lot of shock as I fought to keep my balance.  I never saw what I tripped on but it felt like the stub of a root sticking straight up out of the dirt.  Right after that, I ran up a short hill in loose dirt.  I could feel the soreness in my quad.  I wasn’t sure if the sore quad would slow me down in subsequent laps, but I ran more tentatively after that.

Toward the end of that lap, I started to feel the sun shining through the trees.  I knew it would warm up, but if nothing else, I thought we would always have shade.  That reinforced the idea that I needed to forget about running for time, and just run at a pace that felt comfortable and sustainable.

In my third lap, I paid close attention when I reached the same spot where I stumbled before.  I tried to see what I tripped on.  I knew where it was, but for the life of me I couldn’t see what I tripped on.  Earlier, I assumed I was just careless.  Now I realized that wasn’t the case.  It was a bit scary that I could trip so badly on something that I couldn’t see, even when I was looking for it.  What other invisible trip hazards were lurking about?

I wasn’t half done yet, but I was already getting tired.  I always find trails more tiring than roads.  On a road course, the hills seem more manageable.  I may slow a little going uphill, but I can speed up going downhill.  The shorter, but more frequent hills on a trail course take me out of my rhythm.  I slow down going uphill, but I can’ t speed up on the downhill, for fear of tripping on a root.

I got through my third lap without incident, but I was getting tired.  It was also getting warmer.  I reached the halfway mark in roughly 2:20, but I expected the second half to be slower.

When I finished my third lap, I saw several runners in the start/finish area.  Those were half marathon and 10K runners who had already finished.  For the rest of the race, I would probably only see marathon runners.

Ordinarily, I feel more confident when I pass the halfway mark of a marathon.  Having three laps done, but three to go didn’t make me feel confident.  When I reached the 15 mile mark, I could tell myself I only had 11.2 miles to go.  The distance remaining was almost four miles shorter than what I had already completed, but even that didn’t inspire confidence.  I needed to finish my fourth lap.

So far, I had only seen one other runner in this lap.  There were 44 runners doing the marathon.  If we were spread out evenly around the loop, that would work out to 10 runners per mile.  Why wasn’t I seeing more of them?  Late in the loop, I finally started to see them.  I passed five or six more runners by the end of that lap.

With less than a mile to go in my fourth lap, I tripped on something.  This time I fell, but it was a soft landing.  I landed in soft sandy dirt and rolled.  I got up quickly.  I wasn’t hurt, but it shook my confidence.  I looked back to see what I tripped on.  I didn’t see any roots.  I saw a few small pine cones scattered across the trail.  Did I really trip on a pine cone?

Within a minute, I saw a runner in front of me fall.  He got up quickly and didn’t appear to be hurt.  Where he tripped, there were some big roots.  What was my excuse?

Before the end of that lap, I tripped and fell again.  This time, there was no doubt my foot had caught a root.  I was going downhill, which made it scary.  Fortunately, I had another soft landing in soft sandy dirt.  I had to pause briefly to brush the dirt off my legs.

I expected to feel more confident with four laps done and only two to go, but now I was concerned about having more falls.  I made it through three laps without any falls.  Then I had two in my fourth lap.  Because of the fatigue in my legs, I wasn’t picking up my feet as much.  Because of my mental fatigue, I was more prone to lapses in concentration.  I had less than nine miles to go, but now I was worried about getting through the rest of the race without tripping again.

I was no longer thinking about pace or distance.  I just wanted to get through the remaining two laps without more falls.  The next time my watch recorded a split, I didn’t bother looking at my time.  I just celebrated getting through a mile without falling again.  I hoped to do that each time I finished another mile.  That didn’t last long.  Halfway through my 19th mile, I fell again.  It was my third fall in a span of two miles.  For the third time, I had a soft landing, but it took time to brush the sand off my legs.

Right in front of me, I could see a shiny knob of a root, just barely protruding through the sand.  That wasn’t the one that tripped me though.  I looked back and couldn’t see any other roots.  It occurred to me that it wasn’t a coincidence that I kept falling on the sections with loose dirt.  It’s never the big roots that trip you up.  Those ones you can see.  The ones that trip you are the ones you can’t see.  I suspect I kept tripping on roots that were hidden by the loose dirt.  The dirt gives way under your feet, but the roots don’t.

Late in my 5th lap, I felt a small rock inside one of my shoes.  Why didn’t my gaiters keep that out?  Looking down, I could see that the back of that gaiter had ridden up above the back of my shoe.  The other one had done the same thing.  That must have happened one of the times I fell and rolled in the dirt.  There wasn’t much I could do about it now.  It would feel uncomfortable for the rest of the race.  Fortunately, I had less than six miles to go.

As I entered the last mile of that lap, I was aware that I had fallen twice in this same mile during my previous lap.  I looked for the section with the pine cones, but never recognized it.  Maybe I’m so focused on immovable hazards like roots that I don’t notice the movable ones like pine cones.

With half a mile left in my 5th lap, I felt my left shoe drag over the top of a root as I was running downhill in loose dirt, but I was able to keep my balance.  I’m pretty sure this was the same hill where I fell on the previous lap.  It’s possible it was the same root.

I made it through the last mile of that lap and began my last lap.  Usually, on a multiple loop course, this is where I would pick up the pace.  I typically measure out how much energy I have left and figure out how fast I can run the last lap.  That wasn’t going to happen in this race.  First, I didn’t have any energy left.  Secondly, I was afraid I would get careless and have another fall.  I just wanted to get through my last lap safely.  At least I was I was able to rejoice in knowing that I was passing everything for the last time.

I was particularly wary in the first mile.  Once I got past the place where I had tripped before, I felt slightly more confident.  I didn’t speed up in that lap, but I also didn’t slow down.  By now, I recognized every turn and hill on the course.  I knew which line I wanted to take to avoid roots or to get the best traction.  I also knew where a few of the “invisible” trip hazards were.

With each lap, I was noticing more sections with loose footing.  They were tiring, and they gradually wore me down.  Earlier, I was relieved that we didn’t get rain.  Now, I realized that was a mixed blessing.  The soft trails were the result of dry conditions.  It seemed like it had been several days since these trails last saw any rain.  A little rain would firm them up.

With two miles to go, I felt like I was almost there.  With one mile to go, I knew there were hazards, but I was confident I could avoid them.  I got through the entire lap without incident and finished in 4:48:36.

The finisher medal depicts Riley Trails Park.  The squiggly blue line is actually a map of the loop that we ran six times.

Because of COVID-19, there wasn’t a post-race party.  Finisher T-shirts will be mailed.  Races are different now, but it’s no less satisfying to finish one.

While I was running, Deb was shopping.  First, she went to the farmer’s market on 8th Street.  After that, she went blueberry picking.  When I finished the race, I saw a message from Deb saying she was already on her way to pick me up.  She got there about 10 minutes after I finished.

I was covered with sand, and I had a skinned knee from one of my falls.  When we got back to the hotel, I washed off the dirt and cleaned up my knee.  Deb noticed that I also had a smaller scrape on one of my elbows.  After rinsing the sand out of the bottom of the bathtub, I took a hot bath to sooth my sore muscles.  When I was ready to go out again, we had an early dinner at the New Holland Pub on 8th.  Deb had a salad with strawberries, goat cheese, and toasted walnuts.  I had their “pickle pizza” with bacon, cheese curds, and dill pickles.  I also had a flight of four versions of New Holland’s Dragon’s Milk stout.

It wasn’t until during the night that I realized I had a sore spot on my right hip.  There’s no visible bruising, but it’s a little bit sensitive to pressure.  The next morning, I also felt some pain in my right knee the first time I bent down to pick something up.  I don’t think either my knee or my hip is anything serious.  They’ll probably both feel fine in a day or two.  I’m more worried about my left Achilles tendon.  It was starting to feel tight during the race, and it feels even tighter today.  That was a trouble spot earlier in the year.  I thought it was completely healed, but the uneven footing on trails can be really hard on Achilles tendons.

Race Statistics
Distance: 26.2 miles
Time: 4:48:36
Average Pace: 11:00
Lifetime Marathons/Ultras: 404
Michigan Marathons: 4