Race Report: Backass Jackal Trail Marathon

Today was day two of the Jackal Marathons.  Today’s race was the Backass Jackal Trail Marathon.  We ran the same trail loop as yesterday, but today we ran it in the opposite direction.

When I got up, my left Achilles tendon was so tight that I could only take small steps.  By the time I left the hotel, I was walking better, but I still had a slight limp as I was carrying things to the car.  I remember feeling the same way each morning at Across the Years, and I always managed to loosen up by the time I started running.

Those races all had a nice smooth surface.  If I was running on roads today, I knew I would manage OK.  On trails, I’m constantly turning my ankles in unusual ways, so this was a big concern.

I wore a different pair of shoes today.  My plan is to alternate between two pairs of shoes, so they have enough time to dry out before I wear them again.

There was a thunderstorm last night, and when I arrived at the race, the trails had some muddy spots.  If it didn’t rain again, it wouldn’t be too bad.  Spoiler alert:  It did.

The temperature was a little warmer at the start.  It was 76 degrees, with the usual high humidity.  According to the forecast, it was going to warm up about 10 degrees by mid-afternoon.  I don’t think it actually got that hot.

The big wildcard was the possibility of a passing thunderstorm.  About 15 minutes before the race, I checked my weather app and saw that a thunderstorm was moving in.  We had a dry start, but I was expecting a period of heavy rain in the next hour.  I made a quick trip to my car to put my phone in the glove compartment.  I didn’t want to have it on me if we were going to have heavy rain.

Running in this direction, we started with a slightly downhill section that’s fairy runnable.  I did my best to run most of it, but it was obvious that my running pace was slower than yesterday.  Running at any pace was tiring.  I didn’t have sore or stiff muscles.  I just felt fatigued.

When I ran this race last year, I felt like I was relearning the course as I ran the first lap.  Everything looks different when you’re approaching it from the opposite direction.  This year, I had the benefit of having run it in this direction a year ago.  It was different from yesterday, but it still seemed familiar.

The trail has two distinct sections.  After running one section, you come out into a clearing and run across the grass, just across the street from where we all parked.  Then you re-enter the wood to run the second section.  It was in the second section that I saw something new.  A tree had fallen across the trail during last night’s storm.

I stepped over the trunk, but my left foot got tangled in some smaller branches.  I pulled it free, but that didn’t make my ankle feel any better.

I was almost done with my first lap when I heard the rain.  Because of the dense tree cover, I heard it before I could feel it.  Within a few minutes, the rain made its way down to ground level.

My time for the first lap was about 56 minutes.  That’s slower than I started yesterday, but it was acceptable.

Early in each lap, there was a section of trail with several small hills that we had to go up and over.  They’re small, but steep.  Now that it was raining, these hills were slick with mud going up and down.  To get up the hill without sliding backward, I had to find a tree I could grab onto.  Going down one of these hills, you would slide down with no control over your momentum.  Going down the steepest hill, I slid into a tree.  By grabbing the tree, I managed to stay upright.  The runner behind me wasn’t as lucky.  He slid sideways before reaching the tree and ended up on the ground.

During my second lap, the rain was coming down hard, and it didn’t take long before there was standing water on the trail.  Many parts of the trail were cow paths worn into the ground by repeated running.  The trail was lower than the surrounding grass, so that’s where the water settled.  To keep from splashing through the water, I had to try to run on the edge of the trail.  That slowed me down.

Halfway through that lap, I entertained thoughts of quitting.  I talked myself into continuing as long as I was on pace to beat the seven and a half hour time limit.

By the end of that lap, the rain had stopped, but the damage to the trails was done.  I still had five laps to go.

Because of the mud and standing water, my second lap was slower than my first lap.  It took an hour and three minutes.  That’s slower than any of my laps yesterday, but at that pace I would still beat the time limit.

As I started by third lap, the trails were in worse condition then they had been during the previous lap.  Standing water was at its deepest.  I expected the trails to gradually dry out now that the rain had stopped.  That thought kept my spirits from sinking too much.

The section with muddy hills was more difficult now.  To get up one hill, I had to pull myself up by grabbing roots.  Coming down another hill, I slipped in the mud and fell on my butt.

Later in that lap, one of the faster runners passed me.  He said, “I didn’t crap my pants.  I swear.”  I didn’t notice, but I assume he also fell and got his shorts all muddy.

Near the end of that lap, there was a deep puddle.  I saw the runner ahead of me going through it, so I saw how deep it was.  There was a hollowed-out tree trunk going right through the middle.  The water in the tree trunk wasn’t as deep.  I tried to walk through the tree trunk, but it wasn’t wide enough.  I couldn’t avoid putting one foot into the puddle.  The water came up to my knee.

My time for that lap was an hour and five minutes.  If I ran the whole race at that pace, I would take longer than the time limit.  I was still on pace, but only because my first two laps were faster.

In my fourth lap, it became obvious that trail conditions were not getting better.  There was less standing water, but the mud was getting worse.  As more runners ran through the muddy patches, they got wider and deeper.  I wish I could show you pictures of what the trails looked like, but my phone was in the car.

Halfway through that lap, I caught up to another runner.  I assumed we were both on the same lap.  Then I found out she was still on her third lap.  She had already decided she was going to drop out when she got back to the start/finish area.  Other than her, I knew of only one other runner who was behind me.

My time for lap four was the same as lap three.  As I started my fifth lap, I worked hard to keep up my pace.

The section of muddy hills kept getting worse.  I wiped out three times in one lap.  It was discouraging to know I would still need to run through this section two more times.  Going up these hills seemed almost impossible, and the downhill sides were downright scary.

Later in that lap, I was frustrated with how much more mud there was.  Sections that should have been runnable were too muddy for me to get any traction.  I had to walk when I should’ve been able to run.

When I finished that lap, my time was the same as the previous two laps.  I was expecting to be slower.  That helped lift my spirits going into my sixth lap.

I continued to be frustrated with the amount of mud.  I did my best to run where I could, but it seemed like less and less of the trail was runnable.

I was near the end of that lap, when I saw something new.  Another small tree was down across the course.  That wasn’t there on my previous five laps.  It didn’t fall during the storm, so it must have uprooted later because the ground was so soft.

I was almost done with that lap when I started to catch up to another runner.  He was walking the last part of the loop.  I assumed he was on his last lap and no longer felt the need to hurry.  When I got to the start/finish area, I found out we each had one more lap.

Lap six took one minute long than the previous few laps.  That was OK.  If I could run the last lap in 1:09, I would beat the time limit.  So, far, my slowest lap was 1:06.

It’s worth noting that the time limit wasn’t really a hard limit.  It was more of a guideline.  The RD wanted everyone to have a chance to finish.  He wouldn’t disqualify you for being a few minutes too late.  He just didn’t want to wait for someone who was going to be out on the trails all day.

As I started my last lap, there were two runners behind me.  That made me feel less urgency.  Even if I was over the time limit, I wouldn’t be the last person to finish.  Still, I felt it was an important goal.

For most of the day, it was cloudy, but now the sun was out.  In places, it was shining through the trees.  For the first time in the race, I was conscious of how hot it was.  That made the last lap more tiring, but I was motivated to keep up a fast enough pace.

I worked harder and harder to find places with good footing.  I ran on the edges of the trail or through the grass, to avoid the mud.  On the hills, I worked to find approaches that were less muddy, even if they were steeper or had other obstacles.  I went out of my way to find trees I could grab onto.

When I got to the last part of the loop, I was frustrated with how many previously runnable sections were now too muddy.  Anything even slightly downhill was now treacherous.  At any time, my feet could come out from under me.

Ironically, today was the first time I got through a race on these trails without tripping on a root and falling.  I lost count of how many times I fell after slipping on mud.

I finished the race in 7:27:19.  It’s one of my slowest finishes ever, but conditions were more difficult than I could’ve imagined.

I got through the first two Jackal marathons on trails.  The next two are on pavement.  I’m looking forward to easier conditions the next two days.

After a race, I usually take a bath to loosen up my muscles so I can stretch.  Today, I had to take a shower first to rinse off all the mud.  Rinse isn’t a strong enough word.  I needed to do some scrubbing.  My lower legs were caked with mud.

Race statistics:

Distance:  26.2 miles

Time:  7:27:19

Average Pace:  17:04 per mile

Marathons/Ultras in 2026:  17

Lifetime Marathons/Ultras:  589

Jackal Marathons:  7

Race Report: 2026 Jackal Trail Marathon

On June 13, I ran the Jackal Trail Marathon in Jackson, TN.  This was the first race of the five-day Jackal Marathons series.  Today’s course was seven laps of a 3.75-mile trail loop through a wooded area near Union University.

I ran this series last year, so I knew what to expect.  The trails weren’t overly technical, but there were roots, so I had to watch my footing and pick up my feet.

When I picked up my race bib yesterday, I forgot to look at the back.  The back of each race bib listed everyone who has ever finished all five races of this series.  Having finished the series last year, I’m now immortalized on the race bibs.  The race bibs also listed the course record holders.

The biggest challenge today was the weather.  When I arrived at the race venue, the temperature was in the low 70s, but there was enough humidity to make it feel 10 degrees warmer.  By the time I finished, it would get into the upper 80s.  Basically, it was two degrees warmer after each lap.

It rained heavily on Friday, so I was expecting the trails to be muddy.  There were a couple muddy spots, but most of the course was in surprisingly good condition.

I brought a cooler filled with ice cubes, so I could put ice in my hat as it started getting hotter.  I had just finished lugging my cooler to the start area when I realized I had forgotten my fuel belt and bottle.  With just 19 minutes until the start, I had to rush back to my car, so I could drive back to the hotel and get it.  Fortunately, my hotel was close.

I would’ve made it back in time, but I also had to make a bathroom stop.  That took extra time, but it was time well spent.  There aren’t any bathrooms on the course, so I was glad I had the opportunity to use the bathroom in my hotel room.

We had to park on the other side of the street at Union University.  As I was parking my park, I saw another runner who was also going to be late to the start.  His name was Billy, and this was his first time doing these races.

When I reached the start area, the race had already started.  The clock read 1:17.  I still needed to fill my bottle, so it was probably more like 1:30 when I started.  This race doesn’t have chip timing.  Official times are “gun times,” so the extra time it took me to get started was time lost.

Billy needed more time to set up his gear, so I started by myself.  I didn’t like having to run the trails with nobody to follow, but as soon as I reached the first junction, I was reminded how well these trails are marked.  I wasn’t going to make a wrong turn on this course.

This trail snakes back and forth a lot.  I had only been running for a few minutes when I saw several runners going in the opposite direction on another segment of the trail that was only about 30 feet away.  I would need to make several turns before I reached the same segment, so it was hard to tell how far ahead they really were.

I was expecting to be one of the slowest runners on the course.  I only needed to make up a couple minutes, but I wasn’t optimistic that I would catch up.  If anything, I would fall farther behind.  I might catch one or two runners eventually, but it wouldn’t happen right away.

The time limit for this race was seven and a half hours.  Last year, I ran it in 6:27:53.  I expected to be slower this year.  I’m not in the same shape, and I didn’t have as much recovery time after FANS.  I knew I could finish within the time limit, and I was reasonably confident I could keep my time under seven hours.  Other than finishing, my only important goal was to stay upright.  Last year, I tripped on a root and fell.

I ran at a cautious pace, and I frequently slowed to a walk.  I walked on hills and any time I saw a lot of roots.  Even on the most runnable sections, I sometimes slowed to a walk for a few steps to manage my effort.  Besides not wanting to trip, I also didn’t want to tire myself out on a day that would gradually get hotter.

Last year, I used a 22-ounce bottle.  This year, I decided to go with a 16-ounce bottle, so I wouldn’t be carrying as much weight.  I refilled it at the start of each lap.  If I needed more, there was a self-service aid station about halfway through the loop.  I could always refill there.  As it turns out, I never did.

The first time my watch gave me a split, it was a reminder to drink.  After that, I got in the habit of drinking after every mile.

According to my watch, my time for the first mile was just over 14 minutes.  At first, I thought that was slow.  After thinking about it, I realized that was faster than my average pace last year.

I eventually realized I needed to take any information from my watch with a grain of salt. Almost all of the course was under dense tree cover, and we were constantly making sharp turns and doubling back.  In conditions like these, your watch isn’t always in contact with enough satellites to track your position.  With so many turns, you end up running farther than what your watch says.  My actual pace was actually a bit faster than what my watch said.

My pace in the second mile was about the same.  By the third mile, I was slowing down a little.  About halfway through that mile, Billy caught up to me.  After he passed me, I was the last runner on the course.

Having run this race last year, I recognized some parts of the loop.  I couldn’t possibly remember every turn or hill, but there were certain features that were memorable.  Late in the loop, there was a long hill that stuck in my memory.  I recognized it as the one hill that I always needed to walk last year.  This year, I was walking all the hills.

Shortly after that, there was a place where I had to run over a few small hills in quick succession.  The last one was the steepest, but we didn’t actually need to go over that hill.  We were supposed to go around it.  Last year, I didn’t figure that out until late in the race.  This year, I remembered, and I immediately spotted the gentler trail that went around the side.

I was almost done with that lap when I saw another runner a short distance ahead of me.  When I finished the lap, I saw him and another runner in the start/finish area.  I refilled my bottle and quickly headed out.  The other two runners were still getting ready to head out again.  For the first time, I wasn’t in last place.

I checked my watch as I headed out again.  My first lap took almost 52 minutes, not counting my late start.  If I ran every lap at that pace, I would finish in 6:04.  I fully expected to get a little slower with each lap, as the temperature gradually rose.  I wasn’t wrong.

I was a little more than halfway through my second lap when the two fastest runners passed me.  They were already on their third lap.  Over the next few laps, several other runners would gain a lap on me.  The fastest runners would pass me more than once.  I didn’t worry about that too much.  I just wanted to finish and stay upright.

A few times per lap, I caught one of my feet on a root.  Each time, I was briefly thrown off balance, but I managed to keep me feet under me and avoid falling.  Most of the time, I was going at a cautious enough pace that it was easy to regain my balance.  As the race progressed, there were a couple times that I would have fallen, but I was able to reach out and use a tree to steady myself.

My second lap was two minutes slower than my first lap.  That wasn’t surprising.  As long as my lap times were under an hour, I was easily on pace to break seven hours.

About halfway through each lap, we came out of the forest and ran through a clearing within sight of where we parked.  This one the only part of the course where we were exposed to the sun for any length of time.  By my third lap, I started to get hot on this section.  There was a hill that I needed to walk, but as soon as I reached the top, I always forced myself to run until I re-entered the woods.

My third lap took about 56 minutes.  That was two minutes slower than my second lap.  I was still happy with that.

By now, I was getting hot enough that I started putting ice in my hat.  The ice helped cool me off, but it was all melted by the time I was halfway through the lap.

During this lap, I had an awkward step when my foot slid sideways off a root.  I turned my ankle slightly, and I had to do a little more walking until I was sure it wasn’t injured.  I didn’t do any damage, but for the rest of the race, that ankle felt a little sore anytime I took an awkward step.  With so many roots, that was a frequent occurrence.

As I ran through the clearing again, I told myself that I was halfway through the race.  When I checked my watch, I realized that it must be short of halfway.  My time was too low for me to already be at the halfway point of the race.

Lap four took 58 minutes.  I was consistently getting two minutes slower with each lap.  That’s mostly because I was needing to do a little more walking in each lap, as it got hotter.

After my previous lap, I put one handful of ice on my hat.  This time, I put two handfuls in my hat.  As I started running my fifth lap, the ice on the top of my head was so intensely cold that it was painful.  The first few minutes of that lap were uncomfortable.  After a few minutes, the ice no longer hurt, but it was still helping to cool me off as it melted on my head.  Sadly, it was completely melted after only a mile.  It helped while it lasted, but as the temperature kept climbing, the ice melted quickly.

Through the first four laps, I had some near misses, but I never fell.  In lap five, I accidentally stepped in a hole in the middle of the trail.  The sides were muddy, and my foot slid farther into the hole.  I couldn’t lift that foot out fast enough to keep from getting off balance and falling to one side.  I had to put both hands on the trail to catch myself.  No other part of my body touched the trail, but I could no longer say I stayed upright.

I expected that lap to take more than an hour.  I was pleasantly surprised to run it in 59 minutes.  I was still getting slower with each lap, but I would easily finish in less than seven hours.

I once again put two handfuls of ice in my hat.  This time it didn’t hurt.  I think it makes a big difference where the ice was sitting on my head.  Ice near the front of my head was painful.  Ice near the back felt good.

In lap six, I finally tripped and fell.  I caught my left foot on a root, and it got stuck on that root just long enough that I couldn’t get it under me again in time to keep from falling.

I took the impact with my right arm.  I didn’t hit anything hard, and the ground was soft enough that the fall was no big deal.  The only thing injured was my pride.  This was my third race on these trails, and I’ve yet to get through seven laps without a fall.

That lap was the first one to take more than an hour, but I only had one lap to go, and I was easily on pace to break seven hours.

I didn’t have as much incentive to push the pace on that lap.  I allowed myself to take longer and more frequent walking breaks.  My biggest concern now, other than not wanting to fall again, was to make sure I didn’t overexert myself in the heat.  I needed to be able to bounce back and run on these trails again tomorrow.

That lap was a couple minutes slower, but I got it done.  I finished with an official time of 6:45:35.  That’s slower than last year, but I always expected that.  The important thing is I finished.  I earned the first of five jackal medals.

As soon as I finished, I borrowed a chair so I could sit down and ice my ankle.  My cooler was still about one third filled with ice.  I plunged my ankle in the ice and kept it there for as long as I could stand the cold.  After that, my ankle felt much better.

When I finished, there were still two other runners on the course.  While I was icing my ankle, I saw both of them finish.

The heat index was 103 degrees when I finished.  I wasn’t expecting it to get that hot.  The good news is that the next few days should be cooler.

I brought my gear back to the car and drove back to the hotel.  When I got there, my first order of business was refueling.  I drank two glasses of chocolate milk and a large pastry that I got at Wal-Mart the day before.  Then I took a hot bath, stretched my Achilles tendons, and worked on a few muscles with a massage stick.

I’m disappointed that I still have never run a race on these trails without falling.  I can try again tomorrow.  Tomorrow’s race is on the same trail loop, but we’ll be running it in the opposite direction.

Race statistics:

Distance:  26.2 miles

Time:  6:45:35

Average Pace:  15:28 per mile

Marathons/Ultras in 2026:  16

Lifetime Marathons/Ultras:  588

Jackal Marathons:  6

Series Preview: 2026 Jackal Marathons

A year ago, I did a five-day series in Tennessee called the Jackal Marathons.  I knew these races would be difficult, but I signed up for them because it was a chance to run a quadzilla (four marathons in four days) in a new state.  I only needed to do four of these races, but I signed up to the fifth one as well.  In for a penny, in for a pound.

I knew these races would be difficult.  Any time you run marathons on five consecutive days, it takes a toll on you.  What made these races particularly difficult was the extreme heat and humidity.  June in Tennessee is always hot, but last year was unusually hot.  There were heat advisories every day, with the heat index consistently hitting 100 degrees by noon.  On the last day, the heat index rose to 109.

The heat wasn’t the only challenge.  Three of the five races were trail races.  I’m out of my element on trails.  The trails we were running on the first two days weren’t particularly technical, but there were roots, and I tripped and fell both days.  For the rest of the week, my lower back was bothering me.

Days three and four were on pavement.  I thought those races would be easier.  What I didn’t realize until I got there was how much the pavement would heat up on a sunny day.  The course was easier, but the heat was worse.

Day five was the most challenging course, and it was the hottest day, but it was the deer flies that had me wanting to quit.  Every lap, I was getting multiple bites.  The flies were relentless.  They kept feeding until I killed them, and each time I slapped one, it would leave a blood spatter the size of a quarter.

After that last race, I said that I wouldn’t have done that race if I had known how difficult it would be.  I also said I wouldn’t be back.  Guess what.  I’m back!  I’m doing all five of these races again this year.

Why did I decide to come back?  This may sound strange, but I couldn’t bear the thought of not coming back.

Last year, I chose to do these races in spite of the difficulty.  I found myself surrounded by runners who knew exactly what to expect.  They were doing these races because of the difficulty.  I was in the company of bad-ass trail runners who thrive on doing difficult things.  As someone who sets challenging goals, I felt like I had found my tribe.

I came back because I wanted to prove to myself that I belong here.  If I was “one and done,” I would’ve felt like a wimp.

The series starts tomorrow.  Before these races are over, I may wonder what I was thinking.  I’m all but certain I’ll have regrets on day five.  I know it’ll be hot again, but I’m cautiously optimistic that it won’t be as hot as last year.  My new worry is the possibility of thunderstorms.

One additional challenge this year is lack of recovery time.  Last year, this series started 15 days after the FANS 24-Hour Run.  This year, the first race is only six days after FANS.  That’s not much recovery time.

One thing about this series is easy.  All of the race venues are within 30 miles of my hotel in Jackson.  I flew to Memphis this morning and drove to Jackson from there.  My hotel room has a kitchenette with a full-size refrigerator.  After checking in, I did some grocery shopping.

Wish me luck.  I’m going to need it.

Race Report: 2026 FANS 24-Hour Run

On the weekend of June 6-7, I ran the FANS 24-Hour Run.  I do this race almost every year.  For the last several years, it’s been held at Normandale Lake Park in Bloomington, MN.

In a 24-hour race, you can run, walk, or take rest breaks, but the clock is always running.  The objective is to run or walk as far as you can in 24 hours.  We started at 8 AM on Saturday, and we had until 8 AM on Sunday to see how far we could go.

The 24-hour race has separate divisions for runners and walkers.  I usually do the 24-hour run, but there are serious race-walkers in the 24-hour walk.  This year there were three walkers from Europe who came here to see if they could earn a Centurion badge by walking 100 miles in 24 hours.  The one rule the walkers have to follow is they can never have both feet off the ground at the same time.

Besides the 24-hour race, there’s a 12-race, a 6-hour race, and a marathon.  The marathon was new this year.  All of the fixed-time races started at 8 AM, but the marathon started at 10 PM.

Our course was a 1.85-mile loop around the lake.  The whole course is paved, except for two short wooden bridges, where we cross Nine Mile Creek.

This is a local race for me, but for the third straight year, I chose to stay in a hotel that was close to the race venue.  A long-term construction project on I-494 has made drive times difficult to predict.

I checked into my hotel in Bloomington Friday afternoon.  Then I went over to the lake to pick up my race packet.  For the second straight year, I had bib number 2.  Of the people doing the 24-hour run, only Ed Rousseau had more lifetime miles.

I had dinner with Deb, Betty, and John.  I went to bed early and slept for about six and a half hours.  Then I woke up and couldn’t get back to sleep.  I slept well the previous two nights, so I crossed my fingers that I got enough sleep to get by.

There was an area on the west side of the lake where we could pitch tents.  As usual, I was sharing a tent with my sister, Betty, and her husband, John.  Betty always volunteers at this race.  John does the 24-hour walk

The tent gave us a place to store all our gear.  Some people take naps during the night, but John and I usually press on through the night.

The earliest we could set up tents was 6:00 Saturday morning.  Betty and John were also staying in a nearby hotel, and we all arrived by 6:00, so we could get our usual tent site before someone else claimed it.

After setting up our tent and unpacking our gear, John and I each needed to pick up our timing chips and weigh in at the medical tent.  During the race, we needed to weigh in every four hours.

It was a hot day.  When I left the hotel, the temperature was in the 60s.  Humidity was so high that I had to run the wipers, because my windshield kept fogging up.  When the race started, it was 70 degrees, but the afternoon high was in the upper 80s.  Making matters worse, it was a bright sunny day, and I rarely felt any wind.

The last time I did this race, my goal was 100 miles.  I started too fast, and I got dehydrated on a hot afternoon.  By nightfall, I was struggling.  I fought hard to try to stay on pace for 100 miles, and I wore myself out.  My attitude was “100 miles or bust.”  When I was no longer on pace for 100 miles, I stopped.

This year, my goals were more flexible.  I was hoping to get to 100 miles, but I had doubts about whether I was in good enough shape for that.  The weather conditions made it even more unlikely.  I started the race on pace for 100 miles, but if I couldn’t get there, I would do whatever I could.

The course is moderately hilly.  None of the hills are long or steep, but there are about a dozen hills in each lap around the lake.  My pacing plan was to walk all the hills.  That gave me a dozen short walking breaks in every lap.  The beauty of this pacing plan is that I actually looked forward to the hills.  Instead of taking more energy, the hills were my rest breaks.

For the last two months, I’ve been doing most of my training on the race course.  More often than not, I’ve been walking the hills, so I could get an idea of what my average pace would be.  This is an image I captured after one of my training runs.  The dark blue segments are where I took walking breaks.

I found that if I walked every hill and ran the rest of the loop at a comfortable pace, my average pace was between 12:00 and 12:30 per mile.  That’s without stopping to eat or drink.  During the race, I needed to stop briefly at the aid stations.  I also needed to stop occasionally for bathroom breaks, periodic weigh-ins, or to get things from my tent.  Factoring in these stops, I expected my average pace to be at least 30 seconds per mile slower.

To get to 100 miles, I needed to average 14:24 per mile for 24 hours.  I was OK with starting a little faster than that, knowing I would almost certainly slow down in the afternoon heat.  I also expected to be slower in the second half of the race.

There were two aid stations on the course.  The main aid station was set up near the bandshell.  This aid station had water, Gatorade, and a variety of snack foods, including cookies, fruit, and sandwiches.  The secondary aid station was at the opposite corner of the lake, near Nine Mile Creek.  This aid station also had water and Gatorade, but not as much food.

I drank Gatorade at both aid stations.  To take in enough calories, I also occasionally ate solid food at the main aid station.

There were two methods of lap counting.  The primary method was chip timing.  We all wore ankle straps with timing chips, and there were timing mats at a few different places.  As a backup method, there were also volunteers at the main aid station who were manually recording our laps.

Every lap finished at the main aid station, but the first lap started near the medical tent, where we checked in.  This was done for convenience.  Our first lap included an out-and-back segment, making it longer than other laps.  This was done so the 100-mile point would come right at the end of the 54th lap.

The out-and-back was new this year.  There was one other small difference.  We used to go down a steep hill just before the secondary aid station.  This year, we approached that aid station from a different direction.  That made each lap slightly longer than it has been in past years, but it removed a steep drop that was somewhat uncomfortable.  The new approach was more gradual.

I did dozens of laps on this course in training, so I would know every turn and hill by heart.  I was training on the old course, so on race day, I had to get used the new approach to aid station #2.

There have been other hot years, but I usually felt comfortable during the morning hours.  This year, I felt warm right away.  I noticed the humidity from the first lap.

My past experience was that drinking a cup of Gatorade at each aid stations was sufficient for the morning, but I needed to drink more in the afternoon.  Last year, I didn’t drink enough, and I got dehydrated.  This year, I overcompensated.

Because it warmed up so quickly, I started drinking three cups per lap.  At one aid station, I’d drink two cups.  At the other, I’d drink one cup, and I’d sometimes eat some solid food.

For the first hour of the race, I was averaging about 12 minutes per mile.  As I started taking bathroom breaks and spending more time at aid stations, my pace slowed to about 12:30 per mile.  That was about the same pace as my training runs, and it felt pretty easy.

By noon, it was 80 degrees, and the sun was intense.  Now I was drinking two cups pf Gatorade at each aid station.

My first periodic weigh-in was at noon.  I was up 3.5 pounds compared to my pre-race weight.  I was shocked to have gained so much weight so quickly.  The next four hours would be the hottest of the race, yet I cut back on my fluid intake.

I had a cooler at our tent filled with Gatorade bottles and crushed ice.  I was expecting to need to supplement my fluid intake by drinking Gatorade each time I came by our tent.  I held off on that.

To cope with the heat during the afternoon hours, I started putting ice in my hat each time I came by the tent.  I also started taking electrolyte capsules.

In the afternoon, I was making more frequent bathroom stops.  Those stops, plus the time I spent at our tent getting ice, caused my average pace to slow down.  My afternoon pace was slower than the 14:24 I needed to average.  Some miles took more than 15 minutes.

About every four laps, I ate something at the main aid station.  I had a couple pieces of energy bars.  Then I had some trail mix.  When I came by at the end of my 13th lap, I saw pizza.

One of the sponsors was Parkland Pizza, and they delivered pizza at different times during the race.  It was a tavern-cut, making it easy to grab one square and eat it during a short walking break.  The pizza was better than any of the other odds at the aid station, so I ate pizza three times during the race.

I reached the marathon mark in 5:47.  That’s longer than I’ve taken in the past, but anything faster would have been too fast for the conditions.

I needed to focus on intermediate milestones.  The next one was 50K.  I reached that during my 17th lap.  When I finished my 18th lap, I was more than one third of the way to 100 miles.  I got there in less than eight hours.  In theory, I was on pace for 100 miles.  In reality, I had already slowed down too much.

With more frequent bathroom stops, my pace got slower.  Sometimes it was slower than 16 minutes per mile.  It became obvious that I was no longer on pace to get to 100 miles.  Realizing that goal was out of reach, I switched my pacing strategy.  Instead of walking the hills and running everywhere else, I started mostly walking.  I only ran on downhill sections.

 I was carrying my electrolyte pills with me in a small zip-lock bag, so I could take them at the aid stations.  I couldn’t get a pill ready while running, so I had to do it while I was on a walking break.

For several laps, I kept forgetting to get a pill ready.  I wouldn’t remember until I was already at the aid station.  Rather than stopping to get a pill out, I kept telling myself I’d remember on the next lap.  Then I’d forget again.  That contributed to problems I would experience later.

At 4 PM, I weighed in again.  Despite cutting back on my fluid intake, I was up another half a pound.

By now, most of the ice in my cooler had melted.  The rest had frozen into large chucks.  I no longer had enough small pieces of ice that I could put in my hat.  I thought it was late enough in the day that I no longer needed to out ice in my hat.  I neglected to consider that it was actually hottest at 5 PM.  Without ice in my hat, it was harder to cope with the heat.  I didn’t realize how much the ice was helping until I no longer had any.

My body was sending me mixed signals.  In the late afternoon, I was needed to stop to pee every lap.  On one lap, I made two bathroom stops.  Between that and the weight gain, it seemed clear that I was overhydrated.  On the other hand, my mouth and throat were always dry.

Now that I was doing more walking, I started to walk at a somewhat brisk pace.  My average pace wasn’t much slower than it had been when I was mostly running, but I wasn’t working as hard.

By 8 PM, I had run 48.1 miles.  In theory, I was on pace for 96 miles, but that was misleading.  At the pace I was going now, I would be doing well to get into the 80s.

This is an RRCA state championship event.  There were RRCA awards for the top male and female overall, and well as the top male and female in the open 40, over 50, and over 60 divisions.  I wondered what it would take to win the over 60 division.  When I’ve won it before, I did at least 100 miles.  On such a hot day, would something in the 80s be enough?

I weighed in again.  Finally, I had some good news.  My weight was down two pounds since 4 PM.  I was still two pounds over my pre-race weight, but I was moving in the right direction.

After another lap, I reached the 50-mile mark.  When I finished that lap, the lap counters ran a cowbell for me.  They do that whenever someone reaches 50 miles, 100K, or 100 miles.

Betty had been doing lap counting from 2 to 8 PM.  When her volunteer shift was over, she checked the live results to see how competitive the over 60 division was.  There was a guy over 60 who was already 18 miles ahead of me.  He was in third place overall.

Clearly, I could forget about competing for that award.  That left me with one other goal.  I needed 140 miles to get to 1,500 lifetime miles, so I could join the 1,500 mile club.  If I could run 70 miles this year, I would just need 70 more next year.

To get to 70 miles, I needed to finish 11 more laps.  That a lot of laps.  At this point, each one seemed to take forever.  I had plenty of time.  At the rate I was going, I could get to 70 miles and still have time for a few more laps.

The sun set at 9:00 and within half an hour, it was dark.  The course was lined with battery-power lamps, but there were still dark patches.  We were expected to use a flashlight or headlamp to help with visibility during the night.

Once the sun went down, it immediately felt cooler.  The temperature came down gradually, but without direct sunlight, it was much more comfortable.  I didn’t need to drink as much, but it was hard to resist drinking at aid stations.  On some laps, I only drank at one aid station.  At others, I couldn’t resist drinking at both.

As the night progressed, it got harder to maintain a brisk walking pace.  I wanted to average at least three miles per hour (20-minute miles), but I had to go faster to compensate for bathroom stops and other downtime.  With effort, I was keeping most of my splits under 19 minutes, but that effort was wearing me down.

I had to focus on more immediate milestones.  The next one was getting to midnight, when I would weigh in again.

At midnight, my weight was up again.  I had regained the two pounds that I previously lost.  I didn’t realize it yet, but that was my undoing.  I was drinking too much, and I wasn’t getting enough salt.  My fingers were starting to swell, which is one of the symptoms of hyponatremia.

By now, I started to notice that I wasn’t always walking in a straight line.  At first, I wondered if I was just a little disoriented because I wasn’t seeing the full width of the path.  I also wondered if it was the result of muscle fatigue.  I was also starting to lean to my right, as my core muscles got fatigued.

This was something else.  Over the next several laps, I noticed it more and more.  I was weaving back and forth.  I also started to feel punchy.  It was like I was drunk.

My next lap took me to 100K.  The lap counters rang the cowbell for me again.  After that, I still needed four more laps to get to 70 miles.

On my next lap, I was staggering, but I kept making forward progress, and I got through that lap.  Now, I just needed three more laps.

The next lap was much more difficult.  It was scary.  I didn’t know if I could get through another lap safely.  I worried that if I started another lap, I might not be able to stay upright.

I was still two laps short of 70 miles, but I couldn’t go on like this.  I told my lap counter that I was going to take a break at my tent, so he shouldn’t be concerned if he didn’t see me for a while.  Then I went just far enough around the loop to get to my tent.

I borrowed a heat sheet, so I wouldn’t get cold, and I sat down to rest.  The guy in the adjacent tent asked me if I needed anything, such as water, Gatorade, or chips.  Potato chips sounded wonderful.  He gave me some potato chips, and they were wonderfully salty.  It was just what I needed.

Rather than rest in the night air, which was getting chilly, I decided to go back to the hotel.  I took a hot shower and climbed into bed.  I set an alarm and tried to take a nap.

Before I could fall asleep, I needed to get up to pee.  I climbed back into bed, but before long I needed to pee again.  This went on for a while.  I never got to sleep, but I was gradually passing all the excess fluid I had been carrying for most of the race.

I eventually got dressed and went back to the lake.  I felt better, but I chose not to run any more laps.  I ended the day with 66.78 miles.  That’s disappointing, but I didn’t want to drag myself through another lap or two in my current condition.’

I talked to the people at the medical tent.  What I was experiencing can sometimes be a symptom of hyponatremia.  I’ve heard of this symptom before, but I had never previously experienced it.  It’s sometimes called water intoxication or water drunkenness.

John, who was walking, also had a goal of getting to 70 miles.  He went well beyond that, getting to 75 miles.  He could have gone farther, but he stopped at 75, so we could start packing up our campsite.  By 8 AM, we were all packed up.

After the race, there was a post-race breakfast, followed by an awards ceremony.  A surprising number of runners had strong races, in spite of the tough conditions.  Two of the race-walkers earned centurion badges by getting to 100 miles.

I expect to be back at FANS again next year.  I need 72.6 miles to get to 1,500 total.  That’ll probably be my overriding goal.

Race statistics:

Distance:  66.78 miles

Official Time:  24 hours

Actual Time on Course:  18:42:20

Average Pace:  16:48 per mile

Marathons/Ultras in 2026:  15

Lifetime Marathons/Ultras:  587

Minnesota Marathons/Ultras:  116

Lifetime FANS Miles:  1427.4

Race Report: 2026 Icefjord Midnight Marathon

On May 30, I ran the Icefjord Midnight Marathon in Ilulissat, Greenland.  This race is sponsored by Albatros Adventure Marathons, which puts on adventure races around the world.  Seven years ago, I ran the Bagan Temple Marathon, which was also sponsored by Albatros.  I booked the trip through Coddiwomple Travel.

Albatros Adventure Marathons is based in Denmark.  The tour package included flights to and from Greenland, but these flights originated in Copenhagen.  I was on my own to get to and from Copenhagen.

Wednesday, May 27

My first flight was an overnight flight to Amsterdam.  The IT systems in the Amsterdam airport were down, so they had to do passport control manually.  The line was pretty long, but I had a long enough layover that I didn’t need to stress about it.

From Amsterdam, I flew to Copenhagen, arriving around 11 AM.  My hotel was near the central train station, so I thought it would be easy to get there by train.  It should’ve been easy, but the trains kept getting delayed and then cancelled.  By the time I got to my hotel, it was 1:00.

I had one day on my own in Copenhagen before meeting up with my tour group to fly to Greenland.  I’ve been to Copenhagen before, so I didn’t feel the need to do any sightseeing.  Instead, I did a workout and took a shower.

I never had lunch, so I had an early dinner.  I have a knack for finding the best pizza in any city.  On my previous visit to Copenhagen, I discovered an Italian restaurant that was founded by a chef from Italy.  It was near my hotel, so I went back.  After dinner, I went to the Warpigs brewery, to sample some local beers.

My hotel in Copenhagen didn’t have air conditioning, so I needed to open windows to cool the room down.  While I waited for the room to get cool, I was resting in bed.  Before I knew it, I fell asleep.

Thursday, May 28

I woke up at 2:30 and couldn’t get back to sleep.  I rested in bed until I needed to get up, but waking up so early made a long travel day feel even longer.

After breakfast, I took a train back to the airport, where I met the tour guides from Albatros and checked in for my flights to Greenland.  The guides from Albatros gave us each a backpack, which contained our race packets.

These flights were operated my Air Greenland.  Their baggage allowances are based on weight, rather than the number of pieces.  Checked bags are limited to 20 kg., total.  Carry-on bags are limited to 8 kg.  Knowing that, I brought two smaller bags, rather than taking a bag that was big enough for all my gear.  I had to check them both, because I also had a backpack with my laptop and all my electronics.

First, we flew to Nuuk, which is the largest city in Greenland.  That was a five-hour flight.  There was a three-hour time difference, so it was noon in Nuuk when we arrived.

Everyone in the group was on the same flight to Nuuk, but we were split over four different flights from Nuuk to Ilulissat.  I was on the last flight, which didn’t leave Nuuk until 7:55 PM.

Those of us on later flights had time to leave the airport and see some of the city.  We took a bus to the city center and walked down to the waterfront.

We also stopped at a museum, where we had the opportunity to learn more about Nuuk.  There was a cold wind on the waterfront, so it was nice to get out of the wind.

The flight to Ilulissat was relatively short, but I was pretty tired when we arrived.  It was 9:30 PM in Ilulissat, but it was after midnight in Copenhagen.  Having been awake since 2:30 AM, I was anxious to get to the hotel and get some sleep.

The group was staying in a few different hotels.  My home for the next five nights was Hotel Hvide Falk.  The first thing I did after checking in was to open a window.  While my room was cooling down, I joined the others on the patio to admire the views of icebergs in the bay.

I met several other runners from the U.S., but the majority of the runners on this trip were from Europe.  I met runners from Denmark, Norway, Sweden, Finland, Ireland, England, Wales, Poland, France, Germany, Austria, Italy, Belgium, and the Netherlands.  I also met a few runners from Mexico, India, Singapore, and Australia.

I got to bed late that night, but I slept reasonably well.

Friday, May 29

The hotel had a breakfast buffet.  Every morning, we had views of the Icebergs in the bay.  There was much more ice Friday morning than there had been the previous evening.

After breakfast, we went for a hike through the Sermermiut Valley.  This gave us an opportunity to see portions of the marathon course, so we would know what to expect.  It also gave us our first views of the Ilulissat Icefjord.  Icebergs breaking off from the Jakobshavn Glacier flow out through this fjord and into the sea.

I had lunch at a café in town.  Then I went on a two-hour boat tour that let me see the Ilulissat Icefjord from the water.  I thought there was a lot of ice in the bay, but that was nothing compared what we saw when we reached the Icefjord.

I had time in the afternoon to do a workout.  In the evening, we had a pre-race briefing, followed by a pasta dinner.

I was able to get to sleep at a more reasonable hour.  I slept really well that night.  I needed that.

Saturday, May 30

Saturday was race day, but the race didn’t start until 9 PM.  Before that, I was on my own.  I slept in as late as I could before finally getting up and going to breakfast.

Every day, the bay looked different.  On Saturday, there was considerably less ice.  It all depended on the wind direction.

Every day there were optional excursions.  On Saturday, some people went kayaking, and others went to meet the sled dogs.  I didn’t schedule anything for Saturday.  I mostly relaxed at the hotel and saved my energy for the race.

Because the race started so late, I ate a full lunch.  I found a café in town where I could get a pizza.  One of their pizzas was a musk ox pizza.  It had musk ox, onions, peppers, and cheese.

Walking back to the hotel, I noticed it was foggy over the bay.  Everywhere else it was clear.

The pizza was a heavy meal, but I had several hours to digest before the race.  About an hour after lunch, I started to feel sleepy, so I climbed into bed to see if I could take an afternoon nap before the race.  It took about an hour to fall asleep, and then I only nodded off briefly before waking up again.  Still, I think it helped me to be more alert later in the day.

After getting up, I took a hot shower, did some stretches, and made a cup of tea.

Throughout the day, other runners were going out for short walks.  With so much time before the race, it was easy to get restless, but I did my best to save my energy for the race.

The last walking I did before the race was to walk to a nearby grocery store to get a pastry in lieu of dinner.  I didn’t want to eat anything heavy, but I also didn’t want to go more than eight hours without eating anything.

By now, the fog over the bay was thicker, and fog had moved into the town.  I was worried about visibility during the race, but I was assured that the fog would lift before the race started.  Sure enough, by 7:00 the fog had lifted, the skies were clear, there was very little wind, and it felt warmer than it did in the afternoon.

At 8:45, we met outside the hotel and walked together to Zion’s Church, where the race started.

The temperature at the start was 36 degrees, and it would drop a couple degrees during the night.  That’s cooler than I was expecting.  The hourly forecast for 9 PM was 44 degrees.  There wasn’t much wind, but I didn’t know if we would feel a cold breeze when we were near the Icefjord.  I wore two layers on top, plus tights.  I started the race with a jacket tied around my waist, in case I needed to add a layer later in the race.

This was my second straight night marathon, but this time it never got dark.  At night, the sun was close to the horizon, but it never set.  That’s the good news.  The bad news is that this is a race that I knew would really challenge me.

The course was two laps of a 21.1K loop.  Each lap had 345 meters (1,131 feet) of ascent.  About one third of the race was on technical trails, and long sections were over rock, with uneven footing.

The time limit was seven hours.  I was glad they had a generous time limit, because I’ve struggled on hills lately, and the trail sections aren’t really runnable.  My only goal was to make steady progress and stay on pace to beat the time limit.

This was a cupless race.  We had collapsible cups in our race packets, but I brought a cup I could clip to my belt, so I could keep my hands free.

The first few kilometers were on city streets, but it was hilly.  On a few of the hills, I had to take walking breaks.  Despite walking the steeper hills, my pace on this section was about 10:30 per mile.  I was happy with that.

At about 4K, I went up a long set of stairs.  These led up to the first of four trails.  This trail was called the yellow trail, and it was marked with yellow pain spots, plus orange flagging.

This trail was mostly over rock, but the footing was uneven, and we constantly had to step up or step down.  I couldn’t run it, and it was tough to even maintain a consistent walking pace.  Also, there were low spots between the rocks that were wet or muddy, and I couldn’t avoid getting my shoes wet.

My pace on the yellow trail was slower than 20 minutes per mile.  If the whole race was this tough, I wouldn’t be able to stay on pace to beat the time limit.  I knew the technical sections were in the first half of the loop.  I was counting on maintaining a better pace when we got back onto roads.

While this trail was difficult, I was occasionally rewarded with great views of the icebergs in the Icefjord.

At about 7K, I reached the end of the yellow trail, and I turned onto a wooden walkway that was about a kilometer long.  I had hiked this section on Friday, so I knew this section was runnable.

The walkway ended with another set of stairs.  Then I started onto the blue trail.

The blue trail started with a tough climb, but it got better after that.  Like the yellow trail, it wasn’t runnable, but there were more level sections.  Toward the end, however, there were a few tough climbs.  My pace here was a little better than the yellow trail, but not by much.

The blue trail also gave me some good views.

We didn’t run all of the blue trail.  We only followed it until it met up with the red trail.  The red trail was less difficult than the yellow and blue trails.  At times, it was almost runnable.

At the end of the red trail, I reached the visitor center for the Sermermiut Valley.  After that, the rest of the loop was mostly on roads.

Where I turned onto the road, there was a building with bathrooms.  There weren’t many bathrooms on the course, so I decided to make a quick stop while I had the chance.

The next few kilometers were through residential neighborhoods in Ilulissat.  Here, I was able to pick up the pace again.

My hands started to get cold here.  I was wearing polypro gloves, and I also had some Gore-Tex mittens in my fanny pack.  I considered putting them on, but I knew that would make it more difficult to clip or unclip the band that attached my drinking cup to my fanny pack.

I had other options to keep myself warmer.  I was wearing a regular running hat, but I had a winter hat in my fanny pack.  I put on the winter hat and then pulled my running hat over it.  I still needed the brim of the running hat to keep the sun out of my eyes.

Before long, I reached a long hill.  I remembered seeing this hill on the elevation profile.  I had to walk most of it.

Whenever we were on roads, I was surprised by how much traffic there was.  By now, it was after 10:30, but every street had traffic in both directions, making it impossible to run the tangents.  I always had to keep to one side and watch for cars.

After that hill, I was able to run the rest of the way through town until I crossed a bridge and entered the northern section of Ilulissat.

There was an aid station just past 13K.  I knew there wouldn’t be another aid station until I reached a turnaround at the northernmost point on the course.  I drank first and then put on my Gore-Tex mittens.

As I crossed the bridge, I saw a runner coming back.  Right after the bridge, there was another long hill.  This was the largest hill on the course, so I had to walk most of it.

On this hill, I started to see more runners who were on their way back from the turnaround point.  They just had one kilometer left in their first lap.

I eventually had to leave this road to turn onto the last trail section.  This one was the orange trail.  This trail wasn’t as long as the yellow or blue trail.  It also wasn’t as technical.  Most of this trail was relatively flat.  It was also less rocky.  It times, it was runnable, but I had to watch out that I didn’t trip over rocks.  Out of a sense of caution, I rarely ran here.  Mostly, I was hiking at a brisk pace.

The trail was marked with orange flagging, but occasionally there was also a rock painted orange.  I was near the end of the trail when I ran past an orange rock, but couldn’t see any more orange flags.  Then a volunteer yelled to me that I needed to turn, and he pointed to the orange flagging.  I told him that the position of that orange rock had led me to keep going in the wrong direction.  After that, he removed the orange rock.

After turning to follow the orange flags, I quickly got back onto the road.  I just had to go a short distance on the road to reach the airport.  There was an aid station there with a sign indicating this was the turnaround point.

At the turnaround, one of the volunteers gave me a blue band to put on my wrist.  I needed that to prove that I had gone all the way to the turnaround.

Coming back from the airport, the route was different.  In this direction, I didn’t need to take the orange trail.  Instead, I stayed on the road.  I thought that would be easier, but this road had two long hills that I needed to walk.  Also, the road wasn’t as direct as the trail.

When I was coming back from the turnaround, I saw five runners who were a short distance behind me.  I didn’t know if there were more, because I couldn’t see runners who were still on the orange trail.

After walking two hills, I started down the long hill that would take me back to the bridge.  I started to see more runners going the other way, but they were wearing half marathon race bibs.  The half marathon started at 10:30, so these runners were making good time.

I eventually saw two runners on their way out with marathon bibs.  They were way behind me at this point.  I wondered if they were on pace to beat the seven-hour time limit.  In fact, these were the fast runners, who were already on their second lap.

I was still getting cold.  I had a Tyvek jacket tied around my waist.  My last option for keeping myself warm was to put on my jacket.  That would be difficult to do with mittens on.

The end of the lap was right in front of my hotel.  I was expecting to make another bathroom stop.  I figured that would be the best time to put on my jacket, since I would need to take off the mittens anyway.  Also, I would be indoors where it’s warmer.

I paid attention to where I was at midnight.  I was couldn’t quite make it back to the hotel before midnight.  I was just a few blocks away.  I could see the sun to my right.  I wanted to take a picture, but I didn’t want to take my gloves and mittens off.

Sunday, May 31

In the last kilometer of my first lap, I started to feel pressure in my intestines.  At first, I thought I could make it to the end of the lap.  Then I wasn’t so sure.  With about 200 meters left in my first lap, I ran down a short hill, and with every stride, I was losing control of my bowels, and there was nothing I could do about it until I got back to the hotel.

When I finished that lap, I ran into the hotel.  One of the tour guides asked me if I needed to use the bathroom.  I said, “more than that.”

My room was close to the hotel entrance.  I ran to my room and went to the bathroom.  I had already soiled my tights and my sport briefs.  Fortunately, I had packed two different types of leggings, not knowing which one I would wear.  I also had another pair of sport briefs.  I don’t remember why I packed those, but I was glad I had them.

I took off my shoes and then took off the soiled clothes and tossed them into the shower stall.  I would have to deal with washing them after the race.  After cleaning myself up, I changed into clean clothes.  While I was at it, I put on dry socks and my Tyvek jacket.  Then I headed back out to start my second lap.

My official time for the first lap was 3:02:40.  By the time I went back out to start my second lap, my time was closer to 3:17.  Stopping at the hotel cost me about 14 minutes, but I still had roughly 3:43 to finish my second lap.  I could afford to be about 40 minutes slower in my second lap than I was in the first lap.  I knew the second lap would be slower, but it seemed unlikely that I would be that much slower.

As I started my second lap, I found myself not only taking walking breaks on the hills, but sometimes walking briefly on sections that I ran on my first lap.  I wanted to force myself to run, but I had to be realistic.  The first lap had taken a lot out of me, and I was getting too tired to keep up the same pace.  My pace on the roads was a couple minutes slower.

When I got onto the yellow trail for the second time, I was fatigued, but I had a better idea what I was doing.  I was able to pick my lines with more confidence.

At one point, I made a bad step and turned my ankle.  I wasn’t sure if my race was over, but I walked it off, and within a minute my ankle was feeling OK again.

My first mile on this trail was two minutes faster than it was in my first lap.  At the time, that surprised me.  In retrospect, I was faster this time, because I wasn’t stopping to take pictures.

The next mile had two steep climbs that were really tiring.  I was slower on those climbs the second time around.  Even still, I was shocked when I got the next split from my watch.  I was seven minutes slower this time.

After the yellow trail, there was an aid station.  Up until now, I was drinking their energy drink at each aid station.  This one also had gels, so I ate a gel.

Next, I got back onto the wooden boardwalk.  This section is runnable, but I didn’t feel like I was running it as fast.  After running the yellow trail again, I had some soreness in my lower back and my glutes.  The trail wasn’t just tiring.  It was beating me up.

The blue trail starts with a tough climb, and I could tell I was slower this time.  When I had to take big steps uphill, I had to pause to catch my breath.  I had the same experience on the steepest climbs of the yellow trail.

Even after the trail leveled out somewhat, I wasn’t maintaining as brisk of a pace as I did on the first lap.  Then I reached more steep climbs.  Mile 18 included part of the blue trail, but it also included the boardwalk.  My pace in that mile was about the same as it was in the first lap.  Mile 19, which included two steep climbs was six minutes slower.  I wasn’t halfway through my second lap yet, and I was already at least 15 minutes slower than I had been in the first lap.

On the red trail, I sometimes found it difficult to see the trail markers.  The sun was at a low angle now, and I was having to look right into the sun on this section.

When I reached the end of the trail, I decided to use the bathroom again.  I wanted to make sure I wouldn’t have another “accident” later.  As it turns out, I really didn’t need to stop.

I was happy to be back on roads again, but I needed to do more walking this time.  Even before I reached the first long hill, I had to take a couple short walking breaks.  After running the trails again, I was just too tired to force myself to maintain a continuous run.

At the 32K mark, I checked to see how much time I had left.  I had 97 minutes to run the last 10.2 kilometers.  That seemed like it shouldn’t be too difficult, if I could force myself to run most of the runnable sections.

There were still numerous cars on the road.  They were coming from both directions.  At was after 2 AM now, and I wondered if anyone in this town ever sleeps.

I had to take occasional walking breaks, but I forced myself of keep them short.  After crossing the bridge again, I started up the longest hill, and I had to walk almost all of it.

At the 36K mark, I had 65 minutes left.  I could now afford to average almost 11 minutes per kilometer.  I felt good about that.

The first time I reached the beginning of the orange trail, there was a course marshal showing me where to leave the road.  Nobody was there this time, but I saw the sign, and I recognized the turn.

Parts of this trail are runnable, but I was so fatigued that I was afraid I would trip on a rock.  Instead, I did my best to walk it at a brisk pace.  The next time I got a split, I saw that I was maintaining the pace I needed, even on the trail.

As I was nearing the end of that trail, I didn’t see the orange rock that had confused me the first time.  I was also paying more attention to the orange flags.  I was relieved when I got back onto the road.  I still had some tiring hills, but no more trails.

I reached the turnaround and got a second wrist band.  Coming back from the turn, I didn’t see anybody behind me.  The runners who were right behind me on my first lap had all passed me when I made my long bathroom stop at the end of that lap.  It’s possible that there was a runner who was still on the orange trail, but as far as I could see, I was the last runner on the course.

Coming back, I not only had to walk the hills, but it was tough to force myself to run where it was flat.  Instead, I really focused on walking as briskly as I could, even on the steep hills.

I checked my pace at every kilometer.  I was consistently going faster than the pace I needed to average to beat the cutoff.

With three kilometers to go, I knew I would finish with at least five minutes to spare.  That margin kept improving.

I finished the race in 6:51:37.  I was immediately handed my finished medal.  It’s a pretty cool medal, with different designs on each side.  It also has a small spinner.

I thought I was going to be the last finisher.  Then I found out that there was still one more runner on the course.  At 4 AM, she still had one kilometer to go.  Everyone went outside to watch her finish.  She came in after the 4 AM deadline, but we all cheered for her.

The hotel bar stayed open all night.  Several of the other runners were having post-race beers.  I opted for hot chocolate instead.  I needed that to warm up.

A few people asked me my impression of the race.  As far as how much I enjoyed it, that was hard to answer.  My “accident” tainted my race experience.  As far as difficulty of the course, it probably ranks in the top five.  It also ranks in the top five for scenery.

After I got back to the room, I still needed to rinse out the filthy clothes that I discarded earlier.  Then I took a hot shower.  I wanted to get some sleep, but it was almost time for breakfast.  I decided to stay up a little longer and eat breakfast before going to sleep.

I slept for almost four hours.  Then I decided to get up, so I would be able to get to sleep in the evening.  When I went downstairs, I saw that it was foggy again.  I’m glad we didn’t have to run in this.

I only saw a few other runners in the afternoon.  Some people had booked optional excursion.  Others were sleeping.  I didn’t feel up to going anywhere, so I had lunch in the hotel’s restaurant with a couple from Singapore.

After lunch, I started to get sleepy again.  I took another brief nap.  Then I had to wake up and get ready for our celebration dinner.

The Albatros staff hosted a dinner for us in the evening.  It was a three-course meal, and between courses, they showed a video of the race, told us how many runners there were from each country, and recognized the top finishers in each race.  Here's a link to the video: Race Recap Video

I slept well that night.

Monday, June 1

Monday morning, I saw an example of how quickly the weather can change in Greenland.  When I went down to breakfast, if was so foggy that I couldn’t see any of the icebergs in the bay.  Ten minutes later, the fog was gone, and I could see all the way across the bay.

After breakfast, I went on a six-hour boat trip to the Eqi Glacier.

We also saw some interesting icebergs.

On our way back from the glacier, we did some whale watching.

In the evening, we had our final dinner together.  It was a Greenlandic buffet, with lots of fish and seafood.  Then I had to get to bed early, in preparation for an early flight.

Tuesday, June 2

Tuesday was a long travel day.  First, we flew to Kangerlussuaq.  The flights to Kangerlussuaq were all on small planes, so the group was spread over five different flights.

My flight was at 7 AM, so I had to be up early.  The hotel had an early breakfast for us at 4:45.

I had a five-hour layover in Kangerlussuaq.  I would've had time to leave the airport, but there isn’t much of a town, other than the airport.  There’s a hotel, a grocery store, a gift shop, and some houses.  Rather than explore, I just stayed in the airport terminal.  A few of us passed the time by playing cards.

After everyone else arrived, we were all on the same flight to Copenhagen.  The flight to Kangerlussuaq took less than an hour, but the flight back to Copenhagen took almost five hours.  Also, we took off almost an hour behind schedule.  Copenhagen is three hours ahead, so it was 9:30 PM when we arrived, and it was 10:30 by the time I had my bags.

I had one more night in Copenhagen before flying home, but this time I stayed at a hotel that I could walk to from the airport terminal.  I wanted to get there quickly, so I could get to sleep.  I also wanted to be able to get back to the airport quickly in the morning.

My room was on the top floor.  The room was warm, the AC didn't seem to be working, and I couldn't open a window.  Needless to say, I had trouble sleeping.

Wednesday, June 3

I flew home from Copenhagen on Wednesday, with a layover in Amsterdam.  It was my second consecutive day spending at least 14 hours on planes or in airports.  It's also the second consecutive day that I have to adjust to a significant time difference.  I’m very tired now, and I only have two days to recover from the jet lag before my next race.  Hopefully, I can catch up on sleep by then, because my next race is a 24-hour race.

Race statistics:

Distance:  42.2 kilometers

Time:  6:51:37

Average Pace:  9:45 per kilometer (15:42 per mile)

First Half:  3:02:40

Second Half:  3:48:57

Marathons/Ultras in 2026:  14

Lifetime Marathons/Ultras:  586

Countries:  60