Race Report: 2023 Clarence DeMar Marathon

On September 24, I ran the Clarence DeMar Marathon in Keene, NH.  This is a relatively small race, but it’s a big enough event to fill all the hotel rooms in Keene.  I was able to find a room at the Hampton Inn, but the rates were expensive.  Fortunately, I had enough Hilton points to get two free nights.

Figuring out my flights was also difficult.  I could get a direct flight to Hartford, but there weren’t many flight options and I had to allow time for a 90-minute drive.  There were more flights to Boston, but the drive time to Keene form Boston was an hour longer.  To get to any of the other airports in the region, I would need two flight segments, and I would still have a long drive.

I eventually decided to fly to Hartford Friday morning and fly home Sunday morning.  There was just one problem.  The race was on Sunday.  Somehow, I thought it was a Saturday race when I was making the reservations.  I didn’t realize my mistake until I started getting emails with race information.  My hotel, flights, and rental car were all booked for the wrong days.

By the time I realized my mistake, it was too late to change my hotel reservation.  I couldn’t get the same room for another night, because all the rooms of that type were booked.  Also, when you book a room with points, it’s difficult to change the reservation.

I called Hampton Inn and explained my problem.  The person I spoke to was very helpful.  She said I could have a 2 PM checkout, and she made a note to that effect in my reservation.  She also gave me her name, in case there were any questions.  After that I still had to change my flight and rental car reservation.  The race started at 7 AM, so I clearly wasn’t going to make it back to Hartford in time to catch an 11:45 AM flight.  Fortunately, there was also a 6 PM flight out of Hartford.

I arrived in Hartford just before lunch on Friday.  I didn’t need to be in any rush to get to Keene, so I stopped for lunch in Springfield before driving the rest of the way.  After checking into my room at Hampton, I had a few hours before packet pickup started.  I used that time to go for a run.  After three hours on a plane and almost two hours in a car, my legs were unusually stiff, but they eventually loosened up.

My run turned out to be a bit of an adventure.  I didn’t want to run on city streets, but there was a trail that was less than a mile from my hotel.  I thought I knew the way, but I quickly encountered construction.  The sidewalk was newly paved, but there were sections missing.  Then I encountered a roundabout that wasn’t on any map.

That was the reason for the construction.  This roundabout was so new that it wasn’t finished.  As I made my way around the roundabout, I found myself heading toward the downtown area.  I quickly realized I was on the wrong street.  I somehow missed a turn.  I saw another runner turning onto a trail, so I turned there too, it wasn’t the Cheshire Rail Trail, but at least it got me off of the city streets.

This trail only went one block before I reached a dead end.  Should I turn right or left?  I turned right.  As it turns out, I should’ve turned left.  Each time I reached an intersection, I had to decide whether to turn or wait for the light.  When I turned, I always turned left.  I was starting to do a loop though the downtown area.

I noticed a brewery on my left that I had seen on a map.  It was across the street from where I was supposed to turn onto the Cheshire Rail Trail.  I looked across the street and saw a sign for the trail.  I had made a big loop and was approaching it from the opposite direction.

I ran along the trail until it seemed like I should turn around and go back.  When I reached the point where I had entered the trail, I turned right, thinking I was now on the most direct route back to the hotel.  Then I reached a dead end.  I was supposed to cross a bridge over a stream, but the bridge was closed for construction.  I had no choice but to backtrack and find another place where I could cross the stream.

I eventually found my way back to the same trail I had run on briefly before.  Then I was able to retrace my route back to the hotel.  When I got back to the new roundabout, I saw the turn I had missed.  It was closed for construction.  I was now on the opposite side of the same bridge.  I was only planning to run for three or four miles, but I ended up running closer to five.

I could’ve picked up my race packet on Saturday, but they were encouraging runners who could to pick up their race packets on Friday.  Friday packet pickup was available for a few hours at a shoe store in Keene.  When I parked my car, I saw this mural on a building.

Besides the usual stuff (race bib, T-shirt, safely pins, gear bag tag), my race packet included a sticker, lip balm, a few food samples, a two-page bio of Clarence DeMar, and four pages of race info.  The race info was mostly stuff I had seen in emails, but it’s worth noting that the pre-race emails contained a wealth of information.  This race really does a good job with pre-race communication.

For dinner, I decided to go to the same brewery that I had run by earlier.  They had a fairly extensive food menu, and I now knew the most direct way to get there, in spite of the construction.

The race wasn’t until Sunday, and I already had my race packet, so I had all day Saturday to do sightseeing.  After eating breakfast and doing a workout at the hotel, I set out to find a few of New Hampshire’s covered bridges.

There were four covered bridges in Swanzey, which is just south of Keene.  My first stop was the Sawyer’s Crossing Covered Bridge.

Next, I visited the Thompson Bridge.

My next two stops were the Slate and Coombs bridges.

To get to my next stop, I needed to drive through Winchester, where I encountered a significant traffic delay.  It was the day of the Winchester Pickle Festival, which brought traffic to a standstill.  While I was stuck in traffic, I rolled down my window, so I could listen to the band.  When I finally made it through Winchester, I stopped at the Ashuelot Covered Bridge.

I continued driving along the Ashuelot River until I reached Hinsdale.  Then I returned to Winchester to eat lunch at a restaurant called The Rustic Table.  All of their daily specials had pickles.  I had their baked Sea Scallops with a cup of Polish pickle soup.

After lunch, I returned to my hotel.  Before going out again, I wanted to have all my clothes organized for the marathon.  Then I drove up to Gilsum, where the marathon starts.

From Gilsum, I drove the course back into Keene.  I stopped at the Gilsum Stone Arch Bridge and climbed down to the river to get this view.  The course goes across this bridge, but we wouldn’t get this view during the race.

We would, however, get this view as we crossed the bridge.

It was pretty easy to follow the course.  Signs marking the turns were already in place.  In the early miles, there’s a lot of descending, but there were also uphill sections that were noticeable, even driving a car.

The first half of the race has a lot of nice scenery.  I’m glad I drove it, because I don’t always notice the scenery during the race.

There were two places where I couldn’t follow the course, because a section was closed to cars.  The first one was the last part of an out-and-back on Surry Dam Road.  There was a sign saying, “Awesome views ahead,” but I would have to wait until the race to see those views.

The other section was where the race goes through Wheelock Park.  By the time I got there, I was already into the late miles, where the course is going through Keene.  I didn’t know where I could pick up the course again, so I just drove back to my hotel.  The late miles would have several turns, but not much elevation change (or so I thought).  As far as I knew, I had seen what I needed to see to mentally prepare for the race.

When I got back to the hotel, it was starting to rain.  I spent the rest of the afternoon relaxing at the hotel before going to dinner.

It took me a long time to decide where to go for dinner.  I finally settled on an Italian restaurant on Main Street called Fireworks.  When I got there, I saw a pizza on the menu called pig & fig.  I still have my knack for finding the best pizza in any city.

I got to bed early.  I didn’t sleep perfectly, but I got enough sleep to be OK for the race.

The course was point-to-point.  It started in Gilsum and finished in Keene.  Having driven most of it on Saturday, I had a pretty good idea of the elevation profile.  The first half has a gradual downhill trend, while the second half is mostly flat.  It can be a fast course, but you have to pace yourself appropriately.  In that respect, it’s similar to the Boston Marathon course.  That’s appropriate, since Clarence DeMar won the Boston Marathon seven times.

To get to the start in Gilsum, I had to catch a bus that left from Keene State College.  I was able to park in one of the parking lots on campus.  Much of the college campus was used to support the race.

The marathon didn’t start until 7:00 AM, but buses to the start left between 5:15 and 5:45.  To get there in time to catch a bus, I had to get up at 4:00.  I’ve never liked the logistics of point-to-point races, but it’s the fourth one I’ve done in the last three months.

The temperature was in the low 50s, with a chance of a passing shower.  I was initially planning to run in shorts, but when I went out to my car, it was sprinkling, and I also noticed a surprisingly cool breeze.  I didn’t expect the rain to last long, but there was a chance we might get more rain during the race.  I was ahead of schedule, so I made a last-minute decision to go back and change into tights.

The race provided a gear check, but I didn’t want to take the time to retrieve a gear bag after the race.  Instead, I wore warm-up pants that I was willing to discard and a light jacket that I could tie around my waist before I started running.

I got to the college early, so I was on the first bus to Gilsum.  We got dropped off around 5:30, so we had a long wait before the race started.  We were able to go inside the gymnasium to sit down and stay warm until it was time to walk to the start.  The bathrooms in the building weren’t open, but there was a long row of port-o-potties outside.

I had been awake for a couple hours, but my digestive system wakes up on its own schedule.  I was on the bus when I started feeling pressure in my intestines.  When we got off the bus, everyone else went into the gym, but I went straight for the port-o-potties.  What I was feeling turned out to be mostly gas, but you never know.

This was my first marathon since the beginning of the qualifying period for the 2025 Boston Marathon.  Since this race has a somewhat fast course, an obvious goal was to qualify for Boston.  The qualifying standard is my age group is currently 3:50.

Registration for the 2024 Boston Marathon closed on September 15.  After registration closed, the B.A.A. announced that they received 33,000 applications from time qualifiers.  Last year, they only had 23,000 slots for time qualifiers, so it looks like 10,000 applicants will be turned away.

There’s no question that the B.A.A. will tighten the qualifying standards, but it’s unclear when new standards would take effect.  Ideally, they would want to tighten the standards for 2025, but the qualifying period for 2025 started on September 1.  This was already the fourth weekend of qualifying, and there hasn’t been any announcement yet about changes to the qualifying standards.  To announce tighter standards now would be somewhat unfair to people who have already run a qualifying race. 

When the B.A.A. changes their qualifying standards, they generally change them by five minutes.  I expect the qualifying standard for my age group to be 3:45 for 2026, but I ran this race assuming the standard for 2025 will still be 3:50.

I placed in my age group in my previous four races, so another obvious goal was to win an age group award.  To do that, I needed to place in the top two among men aged 60-69.  I didn’t know how fast I needed to run to place in my age group, but that’s something I would keep in mind in the late miles.

Another common goal of mine is to run negative splits.  That didn’t seem like a realistic goal today, because the first half of the course is much easier than the second half.  My primary goal was to get a BQ, and to do that I planned to really work the downhill sections in the first half of the race.

We started on Main Street in Gilsum.  Running down Main Street, it was sharply downhill.  I’m getting pretty good at downhill running, so I used the downhill start to get off to a fast start.

As we turned onto Highway 10, it was still downhill, but not as steep.  I continued to run at a relatively fast pace, but not so fast that it would be tiring.

Just before the turn onto Surry Road, the road briefly turned uphill.  On the short uphill segments, I was willing to work to keep up my pace, knowing I would quickly get a chance to recover when we resumed running downhill.

Toward the end of the second mile, there was a more noticeable hill.  Again, I was willing to work to keep up my pace.  On this hill, I started to get out of breath, but I knew there would be lots more downhill.

The first three miles were the fastest part of the course.  On these miles, my average pace was 8:20.  I didn’t need to run that fast to break 3:50, but I was taking advantage of the fast miles, knowing the course would level out later.

The next two miles were still downhill, but it wasn’t as noticeable.  I maintained the same effort, but my pace was 15-20 seconds slower.

About five miles into the race, we turned onto Highway 12A.  From driving the course on Saturday, I knew the next several miles would still have a downhill trend, but the slope was gradual, and some sections were slightly uphill.

I wanted to keep up a Boston-qualifying pace, but it took more effort now.  In large races, I can stay on pace just by keeping up with the pack of runners around me.  In smaller races like this one, I need to focus on individual runners.  Some runners were rapidly pulling away.  Other runners weren’t going as fast, so I was passing them.  I noticed one runner who always seemed to be at least 100 feet ahead of me, so I focused on keeping up with her.  It was a woman in green shorts.

At times, it seemed like I was gradually falling farther behind the woman in the green shorts.  Then I’d pick up my effort.  At times, I questioned if this effort would be sustainable for the whole race.  I felt like I was pushing the envelope a little.  In most miles, my pace was faster than what I needed to break 3:50, but I expected the second half of the race to be slower.

At about 10 miles, we made a sharp left turn onto Surry Dam Road.  Right after this turn, I passed the woman in the green shorts.  With nobody to follow, I had to pay more attention to my effort to make sure I kept up my pace.

Before long, we reached the first section of the course that I wasn’t able to drive.  We ran across the dam and then turned around and crossed the dam again.  The awesome views here were of Surry Mountain Lake.

As I was crossing the dam, I found someone new to chase.  It was a guy in a yellow shirt.  He was taking pictures as he ran.  He looked relaxed, but I had to work to keep up with him.

Coming off the dam, we hit a downhill section.  I took the downhill faster than the guy in the yellow shirt, so I ended up passing him.  Once again, I was on my own to maintain a fast enough pace.

At 11 miles, we turned onto East Surry Road and ran by a golf course.  This mile had rolling hills.  Somehow, I didn’t notice that when I drove the course.  I sped up by about 10 seconds in this mile, but only because I was really working to keep up my pace on the hills.

Halfway through mile 13, I reached an aid station that was at the bottom of a hill.  I recognized this as the longest hill on the course.  It was gradual, but it was a total rise of about 100 feet.  For the first half of the hill, I did a good job of keeping up my pace.  In the second half of the hill, I slowed down.  This hill took a lot out of me.

Since the beginning of the race, I had been wearing gloves.  Running up this hill, my hands started to feel sweaty, so I took my gloves off and stuffed them in my fanny pack.

When I reached the 13-mile mark, I saw that I had slowed to 8:54 in that mile.  That was my slowest mile so far, and I wasn’t quite to the top of the hill.

I reached the halfway mark in 1:52:59.  I knew I was ahead of my target pace, but I was still surprised.  I was on pace for 3:46, but I didn’t expect to keep up the same pace in the second half.  The first half was mostly downhill.  The second half would mostly flat.  It would take more effort just to run at the same pace, and my current effort already seemed like it might be unsustainable.

I was almost to the top of the hill.  Then there was a brief downhill segment.  There was one more brief uphill segment, and then there was a long downhill section.  I finally picked up my pace again.  I ran the 14th mile in 8:34.  That was reassuring.

Running downhill, my hands got cold.  Apparently, I took my gloves off prematurely.  It’s tough to put gloves on when they’re already sweaty.  My hands were cold for the rest of the race, but I had to live with that.

Next, we made a sharp turn onto Court Street.  That was sharply downhill.  Coming around that corner and across Court Street, I could feel one of my insoles slipping forward inside my shoe.

When I drove the course, I noticed that the turn was downhill, but I didn’t notice how sharply downhill Court Street was.  I really picked up speed on that section.

I started thinking about how fast my first half was and how much room I had to slow down in the second half.  I wondered if I could break 3:50 just by running nine-minute miles the rest of the way.  At the halfway mark, that wasn’t quite fast enough, but I ran mile 15 in 8:24 after running the previous mile in 8:34.  Now a nine-minute pace would be fast enough.  That gave me a lot of confidence going into the last 11 miles.

I found someone new that I could chase.  It was a guy in a while tank top.  When I first noticed him ahead of me, I had to work hard to keep up with him.  Then I got closer.  Then I was right behind him, and he looked over his shoulder at me.  I couldn’t be sure, but it occurred to me that he might be old enough to be in my age group.  I passed him.

At 16 miles, we turned onto the loop that I had noticed when I drove the course.  Recognizing this part of the course gave me a feeling for where I was.

Earlier in the race, I noticed every time my watch recorded a split.  Now I started missing them.  I didn’t see my time for the 16th or 17th mile.  Then I ran the 18th mile in 8:29.  I only knew my splits from two of the previous four miles, but those two were both faster than 8:30.  If I could keep up that pace for the rest of the race, I might break 3:45.  That seemed highly improbable.  To do that, I’d need to run the second half a minute faster than the first half.  The first half is much easier, and I didn’t feel like I was holding back at all.

It didn’t seem possible, but it was a goal worth pursuing.  3:45 would be a BQ even if the B.A.A. tightened the qualifying standards.  I didn’t know if I was running 8:30 or faster consistently, but I was determined to keep up my effort until I got another split.

At 19 miles, I missed my split again.  My watch was consistently reading high.  Whenever I saw a mile marker, I looked at my watch and saw that it had already recorded that mile, but I didn’t notice.  At 19 miles, my watch read 19.08.  I never noticed the vibration when it recorded a split.  When I looked at my watch, it was too late.

I was entering the next section of the course that I wasn’t able to drive.  I was running on a trail through Wheelock Park.  For the rest of the race, nothing was going to look familiar.  Now, I had to take each mile as it came.

I continued to miss my mile splits.  I didn’t know how fast I ran mile 20, or mile 21, or mile 22.  I optimistically assumed I was keeping up the same pace as before, and I kept pushing.  As I had fewer miles to go, I was got confident that my effort wouldn’t break me.

I was now focused more and more on my other goal.  I wanted to place in my age group.  I was constantly looking at the runners ahead of me.  I’d see a couple runners who were clearly younger than me.  I didn’t need to complete with them.  Then I’d look farther up the road, and I’d see a couple guys who could plausibly be in my age group.  To know for sure, I’d have to get closer.  I’d pass the younger runners and gradually catch up to the older guys until I could see them more clearly.

Sometimes I’d see a guy who looked like he was as old as me.  Then I’d pass him.  Other times, I’d realize the guy I was chasing wasn’t that old.  I’d pass him anyway.  I was relentless.  I was passing everyone.

In a few places, there were signs that were either inspirational or humorous.  Just before we entered Greenlawn Cemetery, there was a sign saying, “You’re entering a cemetery.  Try to look alive.”  It was easy to look alive at first, because the road through the cemetery was sharply downhill.  As it leveled off, I found myself tiring.  That often happened after a downhill section.  When the road leveled off, I was still trying to keep up the same pace, but it took more effort.  I never let up.  Going downhill, I worked the hill.  On the flat, I tried to go as fast as the downhill.  Going uphill, I tried not to slow down any more than I had to.  In most races, I try to keep my effort consistent.  In this race, I was running the terrain.

There was another downhill section, but eventually, I had to run uphill again.  This hill was tiring.  I was getting out of breath, and I could tell I was slowing down.  I did my best, but I wondered if it would wreck me for the rest of the race.

That was in mile 23.  I ran that mile in 8:54.  That was as slow as mile 13, which had the biggest hill of the race.  When the road turned downhill again, I couldn’t run it as fast as I ran other downhill sections.  By now, both of my insoles had slipped so far forward that running downhill was getting uncomfortable for my feet.

With 3.2 miles to go, I had more than 32 minutes left to break 3:50.  I just needed to average 10 minutes per mile, and every mile so far had been faster than nine minutes.  It was obvious that I would break 3:50, but it was just as obvious that I wouldn’t be able to break 3:45.

In those last few miles, I didn’t let up.  I was no longer racing the clock, but I was still trying to place in my age group.  Even more than before, I tried to catch anyone who looked like they might be older than 60.  Since the middle of the race, I had passed as many as 10 men who might be in my age group.  It made me wonder how many of them actually were in my age group.  It also made me wonder how many might still be ahead of me.  Every time I passed one, I saw another.  How far back was I at the halfway mark?  Was I even in the top 10?

I ran mile 24 in 8:46.  That was disappointing.  I ran mile 25 in 8:42.  That was better.  Breaking 3:45 was out of reach, but 3:50 was in the bank.

They had a sign at one mile to go.  I love races that do that.  I did one last time check.  To finish in 3:50, I just needed to run the last mile in 12:38.  Then it occurred to me that I might be really close to 3:46 if I could speed up in the last mile.  I gave it all I had.

I passed another older runner.  Chasing him helped me to keep up my effort.  In the distance, I could see one more older runner who was wearing a red shirt.  I couldn’t gain ground on him.  Even if I could, he was too far ahead for me to catch him before the end of the race.

I was almost to the college campus.  I made the turn onto Main Street.  When I saw my split for mile 26, it was 8:38.  This was going to be really close.  I poured it on.

As I made the final turn onto Appian Way, another runner passed me like I was standing still.  He looked much younger than me, so I didn’t care.  I ran hard to the line, and I finished in 3:45:47.  I wasn’t close to breaking 3:46, but amazingly, I ran negative splits by 11 seconds.

People were telling me where to get food and water, but I only cared about two things.  The first was my finisher medal.  The second was finding out how I placed in my age group.

As I was walking toward the results tent, I saw a BQ bell.  You were supposed to ring it if you qualified for Boston.  It’s still possible that the B.A.A could tighten the standards for 2025, but under the current standards, I qualified with more than four minutes to spare.  I went over and rang the bell.

When I got to the results tent, they entered my bib number and displayed my result.  I was shocked.  I was 6th in my age group, despite running a solid race and passing everyone I could.  This was a competitive race.

Getting back to the hotel proved to be a little bit of a challenge.  I was told I could get out of the parking lot without crossing the course by exiting to the right.  I didn’t see any streets where I could turn right.  Other cars were going out to Main Street.  Was I supposed to turn right on Main Street.  That was impossible.  There were runners on Main Street.  Even if there was a large enough gap between runners, it was impossible to turn onto Main, because there was already a long line of cars backed up.

I found two runners who lived in the area and asked them if there was another way out of the parking lot.  One of them told me that I could get out by following a serpentine route west and north of the parking lot.  That worked.  I eventually found my way out to Winchester Street.  From there, I knew my way back to the hotel.

By finishing the race faster than expected and leaving the finish area quickly, I was able to get back to the hotel just after 11:00.  I didn’t need to check out until 2:00, but I managed to be ready to leave by noon.  I actually needed to leave by 1:00, because I needed to return my rental car by 3:00, and I wanted to allow two hours to drive to Hartford and fill my tank.

About halfway through the drive, it started to rain.  This wasn’t just a few sprinkles.  It was steady rain for the rest of the drive.  The rain was actually helpful.  It made it easier to fend off road hypnosis.

The rain reminded me how lucky I was that it didn’t rain at all during the race.  After the race, my fingers were turning white.  If it had rained, I would’ve been much colder.

Race statistics:

Distance:  26.2 miles

Time:  3:45:47

Average Pace:  8:37

First Half:  1:52:59

Second Half:  1:52:48

Lifetime Marathons/Ultras:  494

New Hampshire Marathons:  5

Boston Qualifiers:  154

Race Report: 2023 Patriots Run

On September 9, I ran the Patriots’ Run in Overland Park, KS.  This is a fixed-time race where you run as far as you can in nine hours and 11 minutes.  I ran this race in 2005, but several things have changed since then.

First, the race used to be held on September 11, regardless of what day of the week it was.  Now they hold it on the weekend, which makes it easier for people who work during the week.

The second change was the course.  It used to be a 0.72 mile loop around a park in Olathe.  Now it’s a 1.5 mile road loop around the Aspiria Campus in Overland Park.  The longer loop is significant, since fractional laps don’t count.  You only get credit for laps that you complete within the time limit.

The third change was the start time.  The race used to start at noon and go until 9:11 PM.  When I ran this race in 2005, it was a 90-degree sunny day, and I had to run through the hottest hours of the day.  Now the race starts at 7 AM.  It was going to be another hot afternoon, so I was glad I could get a few hours under my belt before it got hot.

The fourth change was the prize money.  In 2005, there wasn’t any.  Now there are cash prizes to the top three men & women.  In 2005, I won the race, but I was only competing against the local runners.  There weren’t any other experienced ultrarunners.  This year, I had every reason to expect that the prize money would attract some serious competition.

The last thing that changed was me.  I’m 18 years older now.  I’m just not the same runner I was when I was still in my mid-40s.  I’m more experienced, and I have a good mileage base, but my top speed today is slower than my “all day” pace was back then.

When I did this race in 2005, I drove, and Deb came with me.  The drive time is about seven hours.  That used to be within my driving range, but my lower back doesn’t tolerate long drives the way it used to.  This year, I chose to fly to Kansas City and rent a car.

I flew to Kansas City Friday morning.  My flight arrived early, giving me time to buy groceries before lunch.  I bought several bottles of Gatorade for the race and some pastries for my pre-race breakfast.

I had lunch with my friend, John, who lives in the area.  I first met John 13 years ago at a reunion of the 50 States Marathon Club, when we were both celebrating our 50 states finish.  It’s been a long time since I last saw John at a race, so it was nice to have a chance to catch up.

After lunch, I went to my hotel to check in.  I had a mini fridge in the room, so I was able to get the Gatorade cold before the race.

Packet pickup didn’t start until 4:00 PM, so I had time to do some exercises at the hotel.  Then I drove around the course.  John has run this race since they switched to the current course, and he had warned me that it was hilly.  I wanted to see it for myself before the race.  I had studied the course map, so I knew where to go, but it would’ve been pretty obvious even if I didn’t.  The entire loop was marked with small American flags.  The loop had a couple hills, but they were fairly gradual.  It was actually very similar to the loop I used for my training runs at home.

Packet pickup was at the ROKC climbing gym in Olathe.  Besides my race bib and T-shirt, I got a pair of red, white & blue socks.

When I was looking for a place to eat dinner, I noticed there was a North Italia.  This is a restaurant I’ve been to in California, but I didn’t realize it was a national chain.  Their pizza menu includes a chef’s special, which changes from day to day.  Their chef’s special on Friday was an asparagus and mushroom pizza.  I like asparagus, but I don’t have it very often.  Anytime I can get asparagus on a pizza, I’m going to give it a try.

I got to bed early enough to get a reasonable amount of sleep.  That’s more important for an ultra than it is for a marathon.

I had to leave before the hotel restaurant started serving breakfast, so I made some tea in my room and ate several of the pastries I picked up on Friday.  I ate a bigger breakfast than I normally would, knowing that I would be hard-pressed to take in enough calories during the race.

I got a real break on the weather.  As recently as a week ago, it looked like the temperature would get into the upper 90s.  Since then, cooler weather arrived.  In the morning, the temperature was in the low 60s, and the forecast high was only 86.  That’s still hot, but I was expecting worse.

There was an area near the start/finish line where people could set up tents.  All of the relay teams had canopies and tables.  Many of the solo ultra runners also had canopies and tables.  I didn’t have a tent or table.  I just had two small coolers and a tote bag to store my warm-up clothes.

I didn’t know how far I was capable of running, so I set multiple goals.  My first goal was 32 laps, which is 48 miles.  That’s just short of the 48.06 miles that I ran in 2005.  Since I was starting earlier in the day, that seemed like it should be an attainable goal.  Still, it’s not very satisfying to come up just short of what you’ve done before.

My next goal was 33 laps, which is 49.5 miles.  This goal was more challenging, but it still seemed realistic.  My ultimate goal was to run 34 laps, or 51 miles.  I didn’t know if this was realistic, but it would be much more satisfying to get above 50 miles, and the only way to do that was to complete that 34th lap.  I also thought 51 miles might be enough to get me into the top three.

There was an aid station with food, water, and a sports drink, but I brought my own supply of Gatorade.  Besides wanting to drink something familiar, I also thought it would be easier to keep track of my fluid intake if I was drinking from bottles.  I brought a small cooler filled with bottles of Gatorade, and I also had a large insulated bag filled with ice, so I could put ice cubes in my hat when it started getting hot.  I also brought a small supply of gel packets and some electrolyte capsules.

My last ultra was the FANS 6-hour race in early June.  In that race, I was able to run the whole race at a slow-but-steady pace, without taking any walking breaks.  I knew I wouldn’t be able to do this race without walking.  For starters, this race was longer.  Also, it was going to be a hotter day.  Knowing I would inevitably need to do some walking, I started to take walking breaks at the beginning of my second lap.

My most ambitious goal was 34 laps.  If I wanted to have any chance of reaching that goal, I had to pace for it from the beginning.  If I started at a slower pace, I couldn’t realistically expect to speed up in the afternoon.  It was only going to get hotter as the race progressed.

I employed a pacing strategy I’ve used many times before.  I call it Variable-Length Walking Breaks.  I set a target time for each lap.  If I finished a lap early, I walked until I reached the time that I was supposed to finish the previous lap.

To finish 34 laps in 9:11, I needed to average 16:12 per lap.  Rather than target that pace from the beginning, I chose a target pace of 16:00 per lap.  Why 16:00?  It’s a nice round number, which made the mental arithmetic easier.  Also, it gave me room to slow down a little in the afternoon, when it got hotter.

The race started just as the sun was rising.  As we were lined up for the start, I could see half of the sun above the horizon.  It was a red-orange disk.  When I was far enough into my first lap to see the sun again, it was already fully visible above the horizon.  Now it was yellow.

The loop we were running was shaped like a pear.  We were running clockwise, so most of the time we were curving to the right.  There were two places in each lap where the road briefly bent to the left.  As I saw those turns coming, I always paid attention to running the tangents.

After each lap, I stopped to get a bottle of Gatorade from my cooler.  After taking a drink and returning the bottle to the cooler, I’d check my watch to see how much time I had for a walking break.  After my first lap, I was able to walk for a minute and 20 seconds.  On my walking breaks, I usually power walked.  The more ground I could cover while walking, the less I needed to run.

When I resumed running, I was already partway into the lap, so I was farther ahead of schedule after two laps than I was after one.  As a result, my walking breaks gradually got longer.  On my third lap, I was able to walk for two minutes, and my walking breaks eventually got as long as four minutes.

Early in my fourth lap, another runner lapped me.  At first, I didn’t know if he was doing the solo ultra or if he was on a relay team.  Later in the same lap, another runner lapped me.  In his case, it was obvious that he was on a relay team, because he was wearing a pack.

There were two types of relay teams.  Runners on teams in the “heavy” division had to wear heavy packs.  That made them easy to identify.  There was also a “light” division.  I didn’t know at first how to distinguish those runners from solo runners.  It wasn’t until about two hours had elapsed that I started to notice the runners on the “light” relay teams were carrying batons.  The batons were small and flat, so they weren’t easy to see.

After about five laps, I had to make a bathroom stop.  The port-o-potties in the start/finish area were a distance away from the course.  There was a port-o-potty about halfway through the loop that was right next to the course, so I stopped there.

The time I spent on my bathroom stop cut into my next walking break.  Whenever I made a bathroom stop or took longer than usual in the start area, my walking breaks would shrink.  If I didn’t have excessive downtime, they would gradually grow.  For most of the race, they were between two and four minutes.

I was set up right next to an aid station.  They had a sports drink that was provided by one of the sponsors.  There were about four guys working that aid station.  One of them told me to let him know if I needed anything.  At the time, I was eating a gel, so I asked him if he could throw away the wrapper for me.

He told me his name, but by the time the race was over, I was having trouble remembering.  Eventually, he noticed that I was opening one of my coolers to take out a bottle of Gatorade each time I finished a lap.  Whenever he was around and saw me finish a lap, he opened the cooler and took out a bottle before I got there.  After I drank, he would put the bottle back and close the cooler for me.  That probably saved me about 10 seconds.  It was really nice to have a total stranger crewing for me.  I arrived at the race expecting to be completely self-sufficient.

I brought enough 20 oz. bottles of Gatorade to be able to go through a bottle every three laps.  In the first half of the race, I didn’t need that much.  The weather was still comfortable enough that it was all I could do to drink 5 oz. after each lap.  At that rate, a bottle lasted four laps.

Despite drink less Gatorade than I planned, I kept making bathroom stops.  In the first four hours of the race, I made four bathroom stops.

After about three hours, I started to feel sweaty.  The sun was high enough in the sky that I could feel it.  There wasn’t a cloud in the sky, and there isn’t much shade on this course.  By now, it was 70 degrees, and the sun made it feel hotter.

To stay cool, I started putting ice cubes in my hat.  The hat I was wearing drapes down to cover the back of my neck.  As the ice cubes melted, the ice water filtered down through the back of my hat.  I also wore one of those cooling bandanas around my neck.  The ice water dripping down through my hat was absorbed by the bandana, so it was always cold.  I used to have a problem with ice water from my hat running all the way down my back and legs and eventually getting into my shoes.  The bandana prevented that from happening.

At first, I didn't need to put ice in my hat every lap.  It took more than a lap for the ice to melt completely, so I added more ice every other lap.

When I finished 17 laps, I was halfway to my goal.  During the next lap, I reached the marathon mark, although I wouldn’t get credit for it until I finished my 18th lap.  For what it’s worth, I reached the marathon mark in roughly 4:35.

In theory, if I could run a marathon in 4:35, I was on pace to run 52.5 miles by the end of the race.  That would be slightly less than two marathons.  That was a little misleading though.  I started the race by running the first full lap.  That was my only lap without a walking break, so it was faster than the others.  I wouldn’t have a fast lap like that in the second half.  To be on pace for 52.5 miles, I would need to speed up a little.  That wasn’t going to happen.  I had finished the more comfortable half of the race.  The second half would be brutally hot.  If anything, I was going to slow down.

In the second half of the race, I finally felt like drinking more Gatorade.  For the rest of the race, I was drinking a third of a bottle after every lap.  Despite drinking more, I no longer needed to make bathroom stops.

I wasn’t noticing as many runners on the course now.  Some people were starting to take breaks.  Others reached their goals and stopped.  I know a few runners just wanted to do enough laps to complete a marathon.

For most of the summer, I’ve been doing my training runs in the afternoon.  I’ve been doing that to get used to the summer heat.  I usually ran at least 10 miles, with temperatures ranging from the upper 70s to the upper 90s.  On one of those runs, the heat index climbed to 109 by the time I was done running.  I didn’t take walking breaks on those runs.  Instead, I ran at a deliberately slow pace, so I wouldn’t overheat.

When I ran this race in 2005, I didn’t realize how hot it would be.  I didn’t do any heat training that year, and on race day, I really suffered.  After finishing enough laps for a marathon, I was feeling so awful that I decided to stop as soon as I completed enough laps for 50K.  I dragged myself through the next seven laps by promising myself I could quit after 44 laps.

When I finished my 44th lap, I asked the lap counter how many laps the leader had.  Earlier in the race, there were a few runners who lapped my multiple times, but nobody had lapped me again recently.  I didn’t think I could complete with them.  I was just curious.

The lap counter looked through her sheets and then said, “Number 138 has 44 laps.”  I looked down at my shirt.  I was wearing bib number 138.  I was shocked to find out I was leading the race.  What happened to those guys who were way ahead of me?

As it turns out, I was the only one who kept moving the whole time.  Everyone else had to stop and take a break after overheating.  I had been prepared to quit, but you can’t quit when you’re winning.  I dragged myself through 17 more miles, not stopping until I was out of time.  I ended up winning that race by one lap.

On this year’s course, I needed 21 laps to get past 50K.  When I finished my 21st lap, I wanted to ask the same question, but they no longer do manual lap counting.  Now they have chip timing, so laps are recorded electronically.  They had a display that showed real-time results, but it was confusing, and the print wasn’t big enough for me to read it without leaving the course.

I knew by now there were at least two runners who had lapped me three or four times.  There was at least one other runner who may have lapped me early in the race and who always seemed to be ahead of me when we were on the same lap.  I assumed, at best, I was in third place, but that seemed doubtful.  It wasn’t going to affect my race strategy.  I was going to run until time was up, and I was still focused on finishing 51 miles.  I couldn’t do more, and I wouldn’t settle for less.

After another lap, I just needed 12 more laps to get to 51 miles.  That’s 18 miles.  Last weekend, I did an 18-mile training run on a loop that was the same length.  That run was a dry run for this race.  I was pacing myself the same way, and I was also rehearsing my nutrition strategy.  Since the remaining distance was something I had done recently in training, it seemed more manageable.  It was the first time in the race that the remaining distance didn’t seem intimidating.

There was a half marathon, but it didn’t start until 1:00 PM.  They had a different starting line.  That had to run 1.1 miles, followed by eight complete laps.  I ran by them as they were getting ready to start.

By the time I finished that lap, the half marathon had started and the fastest runners were catching up to me.  For the rest of the race, the course didn’t seem as empty.

By now, it was hot enough that I had to put ice in my hat after every lap.  By the time I finished a lap, the ice had mostly melted.

After I finished my 23rd lap, another runner started his lap just as I was done putting ice in my hat.  It was a runner who I had seen go by five times.  I asked him what lap he was on.  He said he didn’t know his lap count, but he had 42 miles.  I was at 34.5 miles, so he was 7.5 miles ahead of me.  That was five laps.  Surprisingly, he wasn’t winning the race.  He said there was another runner ahead of him.

There was a long gradual uphill section in the first half of each lap.  The race organizers thought it was notable enough that they put signs at the top.  On one side of the road, a sign read, “End Patriot Ascent Section.”  A sign on the other side of the road read, “Start Patriot Descent Section.”  Early in the race, I didn’t think of this as a “hill,” but later in the race I did.

For most of the race, I was running the last mile of the loop as fast as 9:30.  That mile included the descent section, so it was net downhill.  Now, it was consistently taking me more than 10 minutes to run that mile.  The miles were adding up, and the heat was taking a toll on me.  I couldn’t run as fast.  Because of that, my walking breaks were getting shorter.  When they got to be less than two minutes, I knew I had to make an adjustment.

Since the beginning of the race, I had been setting a target time of 16 minutes for each lap.  That was a faster pace than I really needed to get to 51 miles.  With each lap, I was putting 12 seconds in the bank, and that time gradually adds up.  It was time to make a withdrawal.

With 10 laps to go, I did the math and realized I could afford to average 16:40 per lap the rest of the way.  I didn’t want to cut it too close, so I adjusted my target time to 16:30.  That still gave me room to slow down a little more later.  It also meant my “walk to” time would still be a whole minute on every other lap.  I really needed those extra 30 seconds of walking.  Now I was back to walking almost as far as before.

After another lap, I only had nine to go.  Three laps earlier, 12 laps seemed like a manageable distance.  Now, nine laps seemed like a lot.

After two more laps, I only had seven to go.  That’s 10.5 miles, which is the distance I do most frequently for training runs.  Knowing that didn’t make it seem any more manageable.  Each lap was tough now, and 10.5 miles still seemed like a lot.

I felt the same way with six, five, and four laps to go.  I could grind out the laps, one at a time, but the remaining distance to get to 51 miles always seemed intimidating.

There was a 5K race that started at 3:00 PM.  Their starting line was a tenth of a mile before the start/finish line of the ultra.  As I was finishing my 31st lap, I saw those runners lined up on one side of the road.  I passed them just before they started.  Then the fastest 5K runners raced by me before I crossed the line to finish the lap.  Most of the others passed me as I was stopping to drink some Gatorade and put ice in my hat.

After crossing the main start/finish line, the 5K runners had to do two full laps.  I still needed to do four laps.  I was jealous.

With four laps to go, I was able to make another adjustment to my target time for the remaining laps.  Now I could budget 17 minutes for each lap.  Even with the extra 30 seconds of walking, my walking breaks still weren’t as long as they were earlier in the race.

While I was on my walking break, the last of the 5K runners went by.  I few of them were walking the whole way.  I heard one 5K runner say to another, “This is stupid.  When I signed up for this, I didn’t realize how hot it would be.”  It seemed cruel to make them start at the hottest hour of the day, but at least they only had to run a few miles.  It seemed even more cruel to make the half marathon runners start at 1:00.  They had to go a long enough distance that the heat would take more of a toll on them.  It wasn’t until after the race that I realized why they did that.  The time limit for every race came at 4:11 PM.  That made it possible to do all the awards at the same time.

As I resumed running, I passed the people who were walking.  Then I started to pass the runners at the back of the pack.  Amazingly, I was passing 5K runners all the way up the hill.  It wasn’t until the descent section that I stopped passing them.  I could go a little faster there, but they could too.

Late in the race, I found that every time I drank some of my Gatorade, I had a sudden urge to pee.  Since I always felt that while I was drinking, it seemed like it must be a psychological thing.  When I started moving again, the urge would subside.

With three laps to go, the urge to pee wasn’t subsiding.  When I reached the port-o-potty at the other end of the loop, I made a bathroom stop.  I managed to pee a little, but only a few drops.  Then I couldn’t pee any more.  I think I was under too much physical stress to relax enough to pee.  The same thing happened to me once in a 100-mile trail run where I was overheated.  I was frustrated that I wasted time on an unproductive bathroom stop.  That time would come out of my next walking break.

After my 32nd lap, I had already reached my minimum goal.  At this point, however, I wasn’t going to be satisfied with anything less than 51 miles.  I knew I had enough time.  I only had to run three more miles, and I would have two walking breaks.  For the first time in 10 laps, the remaining distance didn’t seem intimidating.  I would still have to work hard in those two laps, but I knew I could do it, and it wouldn’t take too much longer.

When I finished that lap, there was 20 minutes left in the race.  I drank some Gatorade, but I didn’t bother to put ice in my hat.  The ice from the previous lap had melted, but my hat was still wet.  With only one lap to go, I figured that was good enough.  In retrospect, that was probably a mistake.  I didn’t realize how much I was in danger of overheating.

I usually worked a little harder on the hill, so I wouldn’t slow down.  In this lap, I seemed to be slowing down on that section.  I didn’t feel confident until I crested the hill and began the descent section.  At that point, I knew I could run to the finish, but that didn’t make it any easier.

I finished the race with 51 miles.  That was my top goal, but it took a toll on me.  As I walked to where my coolers were, I went by the tent where they were handing out finisher medals.

Shortly after finishing, I had to sit down on one of my coolers.  I sat there for several minutes.  When I felt like I could get up, I walked over to the timing tent, where several other runners were looking at the screen with live results.  The screen was so confusing, that I couldn’t tell where I placed.  I couldn’t even tell what my own mileage was, although I already knew.

I recognized another runner who had lapped me several times, and I asked him how far he ran.  He said 53 miles.  In fact, he ran 52.5 miles, but his watch was reading high by about half a mile.  Mine was too.

After talking to him, I needed to sit down again.  I saw a few large coolers and sat down on one.  After sitting for a minute or two, I started to feel light-headed.  I felt like I came close to passing out.

At least two people asked me if I was OK.  Without hesitation, I told them I wasn’t.  I’ve never felt like this after a race.  I was pushing pretty hard for the last several laps, and I was closer to my limit than I realized.  Also, I don’t think my body reacted well to sitting down.  Ideally, I should’ve kept walking around, but I was too tired.

They had a doctor in the finish area, but he had to tend to a runner who had collapsed near the finish line.  The people tending to me were other runners.  One of them asked me if I knew where I was.  I did.  I felt lightheaded, but I was still coherent.

They placed several wet rags over my head, neck, arms, and legs to cool me down.  After several minutes, they asked me if I wanted to lie down.  Three people helped me walk over to an open space on the grass, and they helped me lie down.  Then they brought a chair so I could elevate my legs.

After a while, one of them asked me if I wanted something to drink.  I couldn’t drink more Gatorade, but water sounded good.  I couldn’t drink while I was lying down on the grass, but now I felt like I could sit in a chair.  The wet rags had been effective in bringing my core temperature down.

Holding an ice cold bottle of water made my right hand so cold that my fingers turned white.  I have Raynaud’s Syndrome, so when one hand gets cold, both hands turn white.  I was hot earlier, but now I needed to put on a jacket, so I wouldn’t get any colder.

By now, they were doing the awards ceremony.  They started with age group awards for the 5K and half marathon.  By the time they got to age group awards for the ultra, I was able to get up and walk.  I didn’t place in the top three overall, but I won my age group.  This was the fourth straight race where I won an age group award.

This race is a fundraiser for Folds of Honor, which provides scholarships for military and first responders.  The age group awards were Folds of Honor squadron coins.

While we were waiting for the overall awards, one of the other runners brought me some food.  I ate a banana, some orange slices, and half a hamburger.

When they got to the first place award for the solo ultra, it was a guy I didn’t recognize.  He had changed into different clothes.  If he was still wearing his running clothes, I probably would’ve remembered seeing him pass me.

The second place runner was the guy who had been five laps ahead of me when I talked to him during the race.  Later in the race, he had to start walking, but he still finished four laps ahead of me.  It was a long time before they got to third place, but I already knew there was another runner who finished a lap ahead of me. 

When I was up to it, I drove back to the hotel.  By now, it was already 5:30 PM.  Fortunately, I didn’t have to drive far.  I took a long hot shower, did some stretches, and worked on a few muscles with a massage stick.

I was tempted to go to the pool area and soak in the hot tub.  That would be soothing for my legs, but I was worried I would overheat.  When you’ve overheated recently, it doesn’t take much for you to overheat again.

After my shower, I ate a bag of potato chips I brought back from the race.  Between that and the food I ate in the finish area, I didn’t feel like eating dinner until 8:00.  I didn’t feel like going anywhere, and I wouldn’t have wanted to take the time to drive to a restaurant.  Fortunately, the hotel had a restaurant.  By the time I was done with dinner, I was ready to crash for the night.

I can usually tell if I got dehydrated during a run.  I didn’t feel that way later in the day, nor did I feel like that the next morning.  I think what I experienced was a spike in core temperature after finishing the race.  That can happen when you stop running.  Your metabolism doesn’t just shut off.  Your muscles are still producing energy, but it all turns into heat when you stop moving.

In retrospect, I should’ve put ice in my hat before my last lap.  I also should’ve put ice in my hat after I finished.

Surprisingly, I didn’t have any sore muscles the next morning.  At the pace I was going, I wasn’t putting too much stress on my legs.  What made this race so difficult was the afternoon heat.

Race statistics:

Distance:  51 miles

Official Time:  9:11:00

Actual Time Before Stopping:  9:07:29

Average Pace:  10:44 per mile

Place in Age Group:  First

Lifetime Marathons/Ultras:  493

Kansas Marathons/Ultras:  5