My Year-End Review for 2020

 For as long as I’ve had this blog, I’ve been posting a list of goals at the beginning of the year, and then revisiting them at the end of the year.  In a typical year, I’ll accomplish all but one of two of the things I set out to do.  By the middle of March, it was already obvious that 2020 was not going to be a typical year.

Several of my goals for this year revolved around specific races or destinations.  Most of the races I signed up for got cancelled, making some of my goals either difficult or impossible.  The year started out normally, but after March 1st, my next nine marathons got cancelled.  By the middle of June, I was wondering if I would look back on 2020 as the year that got cancelled. 

In the second half of the year, I adapted.  Most of the races I signed up for were cancelled, but I found other races.  I also found new ways to challenge myself.  2020 wasn’t cancelled.  In some ways, it was a good year.  It just wasn’t the year I planned. 

I’m dividing this post into two parts.  First, I’ll look back at how I did on my original goals.  Then I’ll write about some successes I had that weren’t part of the original plan. 

Part 1:  The Year I Planned

Run Marathons or Ultras in 50 Countries

By the end of 2019, I had finished marathons or ultras in 41 countries.  I wanted to run marathons in nine new countries this year, to reach a total of 50.  By the end of February, I was registered for the races and had all of my travel reservations in place. 

In January, I ran a marathon in the Turks & Caicos Islands.  Several members of Marathon Globetrotters and the Country Marathon Club traveled to this race to make sure there would be enough runners for it to count as an official race.  That turned out to be my only international race this year. 

In April, I was planning to run the Bratislava Marathon and make a side trip to Vienna.  I even had tickets for a Mozart opera, as well as dinner and a concert at the Schönbrunn Palace.  That was the first international trip I had to cancel.  First it was postponed to September.  Then I had to cancel my plans altogether because of travel bans.  Eventually, this year’s race was cancelled altogether. 

That pattern repeated itself for my other international trips.  By the time the dust settled, I also cancelled plans to run marathons in Northern Ireland, Latvia, Luxembourg, Brazil, Russia, Estonia, and Romania.  The only good news is that I was able to get refunds or credits for most of my travel expenses. 

Since running my first two international races in 2010, I’ve visited at least two new countries each year.  That streak ended this year.  The Turks & Caicos Islands turned out to be the only new country I visited this year. 

Finish All the Minnesota Marathons (Again)

Last year, I completed a long-term goal of running or walking every marathon in Minnesota.  This goal was on my list again, because there were some new races. 

Last year, I did a four-day series called the Minnesota Brothers Trail Series.  This year, it was going to expand to six days, and it was being rebranded at the Summer Camp Series.  The new series included three of the races from the old series, plus three new ones.  I was planning, at a minimum, to do the three new races, and I was seriously considering doing all six. 

The Summer Camp Series was part of a longer series called Running Ragged 20in20.  That series include the Summer Camp races, plus fourteen other races, spread out across 13 different states.  When COVID-19 made it impossible to hold these races at their original venues, the entire series was reorganized with all 20 races being held at venues in Minnesota.  I ended up doing all 20.  My goal of doing every Minnesota marathon was a big part of my motivation to do this series. 

Besides the Running Ragged 20in20 Series, I also ran an inaugural race in Champlin, MN called the Xenia Avenue Marathon.  I first learned about this race in March.  At the time, it conflicted with other travel plans.  When those plans got cancelled, I had an opportunity to add this one to my schedule. 

Despite doing these 21 Minnesota marathons, I still haven’t done all the new ones.  While I was at the Running Ragged 20in20 Series, I learned there was another new race in Minnesota.  I no longer recall the name of the race or the city where it was taking place.  I never looked into that one, because it was right after the Running Ragged 20in20 Series, and I desperately needed to take a break, so injuries could heal. 

Run My 400th Marathon or Ultra

At the beginning of the year, I had already finished 398 marathons or ultras.  I ran my 400th at the Surf City Marathon in Huntington Beach, CA.  Of all of my goals for this year, this was the only one that went exactly as planned.  That’s because it was early in the year. 

Run a Quadzilla in At Least One More State

The word “quadzilla” was coined many years ago by runners who ran the Tahoe Triple and then ran another marathon the next day to make it four in a row.  At the time, that was the only way North American runners could run marathons on four consecutive days.  One of my long-term goals is to run a quadzilla in as many states as I can.  By the end of 2019, I had run quadzillas in Oregon, Washington, New Mexico, Hawaii, Minnesota, and Florida. 

I was originally planning to run the four-day Alaska Series, to add Alaska to this list.  That series was cancelled, but I later added the Texas Quad to my schedule, giving me quadzillas in seven states. 

Make Progress on My Fourth (and Fifth) Circuits of 50 States

At the beginning of the year, I needed 17 more states to complete my fourth circuit of marathons or ultras in all 50 states.  I also had the first 22 states for an eventual fifth circuit.  I didn’t expect to make much progress on this goal, since my race schedule was dominated by international races.  As it turns out, I made even less progress than I thought I would. 

Early in the year, I ran my fourth marathon in South Carolina.  I had to cancel plans for races in North Carolina, Vermont, Alaska, and New York.  I was still able to do my fourth marathon in Michigan, and added my fifth as well.  Finally, I added my fourth Mississippi race.  It wasn’t much progress, but I did what I could. 

Keep the Weight Off

For more than half of 2019, I was working hard to lose weight.  By September, I got down to a nice lean racing weight, and the weight loss contributed to a string of good race results.  One of my goals for 2020, was to keep from regaining any weight.  That was one of the few goals that was entirely within my control, yet it didn’t go well. 

During March and April, as the news about COVID-19 seemed to get worse by the day, I was doing a lot of stress eating.  I also wasn’t getting as much exercise as usual.  Races are usually a big component of my training, and all of my spring races got cancelled. 

By the beginning of May, I realized I needed to do something.  I couldn’t ramp up my running mileage yet, because I was still recovering from an Achilles injury.  Instead, I started adding cross-training to the mix in the form of weight training and stationary cycling.  I doubled my training volume overnight, which made a huge difference. 

The was enough to stop gaining weight, but I still wasn’t losing weight.  By June, I was finally healthy enough to start ramping up my running mileage.  Then the weight gradually came off.  By the end of the summer, I was down to a lean weight.  During the Running Ragged 20in20 Series, I weighed myself every day.  I was careful to make sure I neither gained nor lost weight. 

I wish the story ended there.  Since the Running Ragged 20in20 Series, I’ve had to cut way back on training, so an assortment of injuries could heal.  Most of them have, but my right knee will still take a while.  In the meantime, I’m gaining weight again.  So far, it’s only about seven pounds, but the trendline is moving in the wrong direction. 

Keep Up My Mileage

In 2019, I got off to a slow start, but really ramped up my mileage by summer.  Then I kept it going.  In the last six months of 2019, I ran at least 250 miles every month.  I also ran at least 50 miles every week.  This year, I was hoping to keep both of those streaks going.  If I did that, my total for the year would be more than 3,000 miles.  That’s something I’ve never done before.

This was an ambitious goal.  To do it, I had to stay healthy all year.  That seemed unlikely, since I didn’t even start the year healthy.  In late December, I started having soreness on the back of my left heel.  Running four days of the Savage Seven didn’t help.

I managed to meet my mileage goals in January, but I realized my heel wasn’t going to get any better unless I cut back a little.  In February, I revised my goals.  Instead of 250 miles a month, I ran 200.  Instead of 50 miles a week, I lowered the bar to 40. 

That worked out well.  By the end of May, I was healthy, and ready to pick up my mileage again.  I ran 250 miles in June.  In July and August, I ran more than 300 miles.  Running 3,000 total miles in 2020 was once again a realistic goal. 

In September, I ran more than 500 miles, largely because of the Running Ragged 20in20 Series.  After that, I needed to cut back drastically.  I went into that series with a knee injury and came out of it with multiple injuries. 

In October, I barely ran 100 miles.  I ran 200 miles in November, but the Texas Quad accounted for more than half of that.  December was another low mileage month.  I won’t begin to ramp up again until my right knee is healthy again. 

I finished the year with 2,890 miles.  That’s well short of 3,000, but it’s still the most I’ve run in a year.  Running 3,000 miles is something I can shoot for in a future year. 

While I didn’t hit either of my mileage goals, I still set the following personal records: 

1)      Consecutive weeks running at least 40 miles (65)

2)      Consecutive weeks running at least 50 miles (31)

3)      Consecutive months running at least 200 miles (17)

4)      Consecutive months running at least 250 miles (7)

5)      Consecutive months running at least 300 miles (3)

6)      Most miles in a calendar week (183.4)

7)      Most miles in a calendar month (527.5)

8)      Most miles in a calendar year (2890).

That’s not bad.

Part 2:  Unexpected Accomplishments

Finishing the Alphabet

After running the Zoom! Yah! Yah! Indoor Marathon in 2012, I set a long-term goal of running marathons for every letter of the alphabet.  I chipped away at this goal over the next two and a half years.  After I ran the Quad Cities Marathon in 2014, I just needed a race that started with “X.”

After that, I was stuck.  There aren’t many races that start with X.  One option was the Xiamen International Marathon in China.  While I would’ve loved to do that race, Xiamen isn’t really a tourist destination, and I most likely wouldn’t find many people who spoke English.  Traveling there by myself wouldn’t be easy.

The easier option was a cross-country race in Florida called the X-Country Marathon.  I wasn’t excited about this race.  I’m not a fan of cross-country races, and the name seemed kind of weak.  Besides, it always fell on the same weekend as something else that was more important to me.  I didn’t even put this on my list of goals for this year, because I didn’t think I could fit it in.

In March, my friend Sandy sent me information about the Xenia Avenue Marathon.  This race is in Minnesota, so I would’ve wanted to run it even if it didn’t start with X.  Unfortunately, it was the same day that I was scheduled to fly to Juneau for the Alaska Series.  At first, I wondered if there was any way to do this race and still catch my flight.  It was possible, but I would have to drive straight to the airport without showering.  Then Delta changed their flight schedule, making it impossible.

Eventually, the Alaska Series had to be cancelled because of Alaska’s travel restrictions for COVID-19.  The silver lining is that there was no longer any reason why I couldn’t run the Xenia Avenue Marathon.

Excluding virtual races, this was my first race in more than four months.  That alone made it exciting.  Finishing another Minnesota marathon was also a plus.  Most exciting was finally running an X race, so I could finish the alphabet.  Taking third place was just icing on the cake.

Photo credit: Heather Zeigler

Running Marathon for 20 Consecutive Days

Before this year, I had run marathons on as many as five consecutive days.  I knew there were longer series, but I didn’t think I could handle the wear and tear of anything longer than five days.

The Running Ragged 20in20 Series was originally composed of three different series that took place back-to-back.  The Heartland Series was going to be a seven-day series, with races in Michigan, Ohio, Indiana, Illinois, Iowa, Wisconsin, and Minnesota.  The Summer Camp Series was going to be a six-day series of trail marathons, with every race taking place within 15 miles of St. Cloud, MN.  The Prairie Series was going to be a seven-day series, with races in Minnesota, North Dakota, South Dakota, Iowa, Nebraska, Kansas, and Missouri.  If you did all three series, you could run marathons for 20 consecutive days.

I had no intention of doing that.  At most, I planned to do the Summer Camp Series, plus the Minnesota races of the other series.  Even that seemed intimidating.

Mainly Marathons had to cancel most of their multi-day, multi-state series this year.  Every state had different restrictions regarding public events, and some had travel restrictions or quarantine requirements.  Holding a series entirely in Minnesota was much more manageable, as they only had to comply with one state’s rules.  Mainly Marathons salvaged the Running Ragged 20in20 Series by moving all the races to Minnesota.

By then, all of the races I originally planned for September and October had been cancelled.  I had the best mileage base I’ve ever had.  In an average day, I was running 10 miles, doing an hour of cross-training, and going for a few long walks.  I was doing the equivalent of 20 miles of running per day, seven days a week.  Running marathon on 20 consecutive days still seemed intimidating, but it was a way to salvage the year by doing something truly epic.

I went in with low expectations.  I planned to pace myself like I would in a 24-hour race.  I was expecting most of my times to be between five and six hours.  On the first day, I alternated between running for a mile and then walking for a couple minutes.  I didn’t have any time goal.  It wasn’t until I had just over a mile to go that I realized I could break five hours if I skipped my last walking break and just kept running.

I finished that first race in 4:59.  That was my slowest race of the series.  With each day, I got a better feel for how fast I could run without leaving myself sore or fatigued for the next day.  On the first eight days of that series, I got faster each day.

I also got more competitive.  On the first two days, there were runners who were clearly much faster than me, so I didn’t try to compete.  On days three and four, I let a faster runner go ahead in the first half, but caught up to him in the second half.  After two unexpected come-from-behind victories, I started competing for the win whenever I saw the opportunity.  I ended up winning 13 of the 20 races.  I also kept my times under five hours every day, averaging 4:40.

Very few people have run marathons on 20 consecutive days.  Even fewer have done it with the kind of times I was averaging.  I’m proud of my results in this series, and I’m really glad I took on this challenge.  Instead of 2020 being the year that was cancelled, it became the year I accomplished something huge.

I Ran More Marathons Than I Originally Planned

I usually plan my race schedule several months in advance.  Before the pandemic started, I had already planned all my races through the middle of August, plus one race each in September, October and November.  My fall schedule still had a few holes, but I was expecting to run somewhere between 25 and 30 marathons in 2020.

My first four races went as planned.  All but one of my remaining races got cancelled.  Excluding virtual races, I didn’t have any races between March 1 and July 19.  By the time I ran the Xenia Avenue Marathon, I had already missed nine races.

By then, the organizers of smaller races were figuring out how to hold races during the pandemic.  I only ran four marathons in the first half of 2020, but I went on to run 28 more in the second half of the year.  Most of those races came in two multi-day series.  Those made it possible for me to run that many races, while only travelling outside of Minnesota four times.

Since 2010, I’ve been a member of a club called Marathon Maniacs.  They used to have “Maniac of the Year” awards for the runners who finished the most marathons each year.  The winners would typically have well over 100 marathons.

Marathon Maniacs no longer has those awards, but they’ve since added a feature to their website called the “leader board.”  The leader board can be sorted in different ways, including by state.  That effectively created separate Maniac of the Year competitions in each state.

In a normal year, I wouldn’t even try to compete for this.  Minnesota has a surprising number of prolific marathoners.  There’s a running club in Japan that maintains a list of every runner in the world who has completed at least 300 marathons or ultras.  The rankings are updated every six months.  I typically rank roughly 500th in the world and 100th in North America, yet I’ve never  ranked any higher than 7th in Minnesota.

After the Running Ragged 20in20 Series, I shot up on the leader board.  Until this week, I was in the top 10 on the leader board for all club members.  More significantly, I finished the year with more marathons than anyone in Minnesota.

Winning Almost Half of My Races

As I mentioned above, I won 13 of the 20 races of the Running Ragged 20in20 Series.  I was also the first-place male on the first day of the Texas Quad.  That’s 14 wins out of 32 races, for a “batting average” of 438.

I’ve never been an elite athlete.  In a large race, I don’t expect to be anywhere close to competitive, except in my age group.  Where I get competitive is in a multi-day series.  When I race frequently, I don’t slow down as much as most of the other runners.  Bouncing back quickly from marathons is one of my strengths.

Winning the Texas Quad

When I started the Texas Quad, I didn’t even know they had awards for the fastest combined times.  I took it one day at a time.  On the first day, I made an impulsive decision to race for the win.  On the next two days, I pushed hard enough to get into the top three.  It wasn’t until the morning of the fourth race that I learned there was an overall award for the quad.  By then, I had all but clinched it.

Placing in the Top Three in 26 of 32 Races

My first race of the year was a small race in a tropical climate.  I do well in hot races.  There were two runners who were out of my league, but I easily placed third.  I didn’t realize it at the time, but that set the tone for the rest of the year.  I went on to place in the top three 26 times this year.  That included all 20 days of the Running Ragged 20in20 Series and all four days of the Texas Quad.  At one point, I had a streak of 24 consecutive podium finishes.

Virtual Races

A review of 2020 wouldn’t be complete without mentioning virtual races.  This is a concept that really took off in 2020, as race organizers who were forced to cancel their races weren’t in a position to offer refunds and wanted to provide something.  It was also a way for them to make use of race T-shirts and finisher medals that had already been procured.

I’m not a fan of virtual races.  They’re not a substitute for the experience of racing face-to-face, and I don’t do races just to get a T-shirt or medal.  I nevertheless ran three virtual races this year.

The first one was called the Quarantine Backyard Ultra.  This was a “last man standing” race.  I did this race because I was intrigued by the format and wanted to see what it felt like.  In a last man standing race, you run a 4.167 mile lap each hour.  If you finish in less than an hour, you can do whatever you want with the remaining time, but you can’t start the next lap until the beginning of the next hour.  You must start the next lap on time, or you’re eliminated.  The race continues until only one runner completes a lap.

I knew I wasn’t going to be competitive.  I was still recovering from a case of Achilles tendonitis in my left leg.  It no longer bothered me on shorter runs, but running for hour after hour was bound to eventually cause a flare-up.  I lasted only eight hours.

My second virtual race was for a marathon that got cancelled.  I did that one mostly because I was overdue for a long training run.  Getting ready to run a marathon forced me to do other long runs in preparation.  Ultimately, it was a glorified training run, but it was a training run I needed after a few months of only doing shorter runs.

My last virtual race was the virtual Boston Marathon.  I did this one even though I knew it would aggravate a knee injury.  I did it so I could extend my streak of consecutive Boston Marathon finishes.  Also, it’s always cool to get a Boston Marathon medal, even if it’s for a virtual race.

In summary, 2020 wasn’t the year I planned.  Most of the races I planned got cancelled.  In spite of that, it turned out to be a pretty good year.

Race Report: 2020 Mississippi Gulf Coast Marathon

On December 13, I ran the Mississippi Gulf Coast Marathon.  I did this race last year, but this year’s race had a few changes.  First, the area was hit by three hurricanes this year, so they had to make some minor changes to the course.  Also, like all races, they had to make some adjustments because of COVID-19.  Still, it wasn’t as different as I thought it would be.

This was by far the largest race I’ve done since March.  All of the other races I’ve done recently had fewer than 100 runners.  This race had hundreds of runners in the marathon, plus there was a half marathon.  There was also a 5K race on Saturday, although that took place before I arrived.

I flew to Gulfport on Saturday, arriving in the early afternoon.  My hotel in Biloxi was right next to MGM Park, where the race finishes.  Rather than take the freeway, I took a little extra time so I could drive along Beach Boulevard, which follows the coastline.  That gave me an opportunity to see how much storm damage there was.  I saw several piles of branches from damaged trees.  I also saw some missing fence sections.  I didn’t see any obvious damage to buildings or other structures.

The route to my hotel overlapped with the marathon course for about 10 miles.  That gave me a chance to reacquaint myself with landmarks I would see in the second half of the race.  Most of the time, you have views of the beach on your right.  The most notable landmark is the old Biloxi Lighthouse, which was just before I got to my hotel.

Last year, packet pickup was at MGM park.  This year, it was at a pizzeria called Sal & Mookie’s.  After checking in at my hotel, I went to Sal & Mookie’s to pick up my race packet.  Besides my race bib and T-shirt, my race packet included a cloth mask and a coupon for a free beer with dinner at Sal & Mookie’s.  Other than airline snacks, I never had lunch, so after dropping things off at the hotel, I went back to Sal & Mookie’s for dinner.

I spent the rest of the evening talking with two runners I know who were both staying at the same hotel.

This race has a point-to-point course, so I had to take a bus to the start.  To keep the buses from being too crowded, the organizers provided enough buses that we could fill them only to half capacity.  They also had us sign up for a departure time.  I didn’t want to be on the last bus, so I signed up for one that was 20 minutes earlier.  That meant I had to be outside MGM Park at 5:25 AM.  Needless to say, I had to be up early.

Masks were required on the buses and in the start area, but not once we started running.  To ease congestion in the start area, we were assigned to waves.  Within each wave, we stood six feet apart in the start corral.  I was in wave six.

My goal was to qualify for the 2022 Boston Marathon.  I didn’t have a qualifying time yet, and this was my first opportunity.  The Boston Athletic Association still hasn’t announced the date of the 2021 Boston Marathon.  All they know for sure is that it won’t be in April.  They also haven’t made any announcements about registration.  Naturally, that means they haven’t said anything about qualifying or registration for the 2022 race.  Normally, the qualifying period would’ve started in mid-September.  I’ll be 60 years old for that race.  It’s possible they’ll change the qualifying times, but as far as I know, the qualifying time for my age group will be 3:50.

I’ve been dinged up since September.  If I could get a qualifying time in this race, it would take a lot of pressure off.  Then I could take it easy until all my injuries heal.  If I already had a qualifying time, I wouldn’t have to worry if I temporarily got out of shape.  With that in mind, I was going all-in on getting a qualifying time in this race.

The last time I ran a marathon that wasn’t part of a multi-day series, I ran it in 3:42.  That was four months ago, but it seems like it was much longer.  Since then, I’ve run a 20-day series and a four-day series.  I’ve had multiple injuries, and I’ve gained five pounds while taking time off to heal.  I’ve done enough training to stay in shape to finish races, but not enough to stay in peak shape.  Breaking 3:50 seemed like a real stretch, particularly if we had a headwind, which seemed likely.

I ran the first race of the Texas Quad in 3:56.  It’s possible I was holding back a little, knowing I had to race again the next day (and the next two days after that).  Today, I didn’t have to hold back.

As the name implies, the entire course is along the gulf coast.  I’ve done enough coastal races to know that they can be windy.  Last year, we had a headwind, and it gradually wore me down.  As soon as we were dropped off in the start area, I looked to see which way the banners were blowing.  It was a headwind again.  The good news is that it wasn’t as strong this year.  Also, the breeze would help counteract the high humidity.

To break 3:50, I needed to average roughly 8:45 per mile.  Normally I would start the race with a pace group, or at least line up near other runners going out at the same pace.  With the staggered start, I was on my own to establish the right pace.

As soon as I started running, I took off my mask and put it in a zip-lock bag in my fanny pack.  Then I put on my sunglasses.  I couldn’t put this on before the race, because they fog up quickly when I’m wearing a mask.  While I was doing this, I was running at a fairly casual pace.  As soon as I realized that, I accelerated.

I kept picking up the pace until it no longer felt easy.  Then it started to feel slightly tiring.  I suspected I might be going too fast, but I didn’t know for sure until  I finished the first mile.  I ran it in 7:58.  That was much too fast.

In the second mile, I relaxed and let myself drift into a slower pace.  Midway through that mile, I reached an aid station.  It seemed like it was too early to start drinking, so I skipped that one.  With the headwind, I didn’t feel at all like I would get hot.  I didn’t seem to be perspiring at all.  I hadn’t even taken my gloves off yet.  Although I slowed down in that mile, it still turned out to be faster than I planned.  I ran that one in 8:20.

Early in the race, I noticed a difference between this year’s course and last year’s course.  Last year, we left Beach Boulevard to run for a few miles on a residential street that runs parallel to it.  This year, we stayed on Beach Boulevard all the way to Biloxi.

In the third mile, I again tried to ease up a bit.  Midway through that mile, I reached another aid station.  This time, I took a drink of Powerade.  Since I was still going too fast, I slowed to a walk while I drank it.  Usually, after drinking, I’ll accelerate quickly back to my previous pace.  This time, I didn’t feel as much urgency.  I ran that mile in 8:30.  I was getting closer to my goal pace, but I was still running faster than I needed to run.

Once I settle into a pace, I usually keep pace with the runners around me.  I like to “run with the pack.”  Sometimes I make a conscious effort to do that.  Other times, I do it without realizing it.  In my fourth mile, I inadvertently sped up to 8:28.  I realized that the same runner had been in front of me for at least a mile.  I think I was subconsciously matching my pace to hers.  I finally realized that I would keep running too fast as long as I did that.  In my next mile, I made a conscious effort to drift backwards in relation to the runners around me.  That worked.  Actually, I drifted backwards a little too much.  I overcompensated and ran that mile in 8:50, which was five seconds slower than my goal.  Overall, I was more than two minutes ahead of my goal pace, but I didn’t want to let myself get too much slower.  In the next mile, I picked up my effort a bit.  I overcompensated again, speeding up to 8:35.

After that I finally got my pace locked in, but it was a faster pace than I planned.  My next several miles were all in the 8:30s.

The aid stations weren’t much more than a mile apart.  The third time I reached one, I skipped it.  Then I drank at the fourth one.  I established a pattern of drinking at ever other aid station.

During the seventh mile, I crossed a timing mat.  I wondered if it was the one quarter mark.  Actually, it was 10K.  That probably would’ve been obvious if I had looked at my watch.

For the first several miles, the scenery was mostly the same.  On my right, I saw miles of endless beach, with the occasional pier.  I didn’t recognize any of the buildings on my left.  I wasn’t as familiar with this section of road.  The only time I had ever seen it was during last year’s race.  After a while, I started to notice something different.  The tide was going out.  Beyond the dry sand, I started to notice patches of wet sand that were exposed as the water receded.

After nine miles, I evaluated how I felt.  Before the race, I had three concerns.  The first was my right knee.  I injured that knee in August.  Recently, it seemed to be getting much better, but it started to hurt last Monday, while I was doing a tempo run on the treadmill.

My second area of concern was a tendon in my left leg, where my hamstring meets my pelvis.  That’s been a trouble spot since the Running Ragged 20in20 Series.  I noticed it during the first two days of the Texas Quad, but then, inexplicably, it didn’t bother me much on days three and four.

The last area of concern was my left knee.  I felt significant discomfort in that knee during the last two days of the Texas Quad.  Both times, it got better after I ran far enough to get warmed up.

Since the beginning of the race, I had been noticing some soreness in that left hamstring tendon.  It wasn’t going away, but it also wasn’t getting worse.  On the bright side, I wasn’t experiencing any discomfort in either knee.

About 10 miles into the race, I entered the city of Gulfport.  Up until now, there hadn’t been any spectators, other than aid station volunteers.  Now I started seeing people who were cheering us on.  Some of them had signs.  One sign read, “Count the Waffle Houses.”  In this region, Waffle Houses are far more common than any other chain, including McDonald’s.

As I got into the center of Gulfport, the street got wider.  Earlier, there were two lanes, and one was blocked off for the runners.  I wasn’t noticing much traffic.  Now, there were three lanes in each direction.  Two of the eastbound lanes were blocked off for runners, even though we could easily fit in one.  There was only one lane for eastbound automobile traffic.  I felt bad for those drivers, as there was much more traffic now.

Well before reaching the 13-mile mark, I crossed another timing mat.  It seemed to be in an odd place.  It was too soon to be the half marathon mark.  It was more like 12.5 miles.  It wasn’t until much later that I realized it was probably the starting line of the half marathon.  I would be easy to assume that their starting line was our halfway mark, but it wasn’t.  The half marathon course deviated from the marathon route near the end of the race.  The difference is about half a mile.

When I reached the halfway mark, I saw that I had slowed to 8:55 in that mile.  That was another mile where I was trying to slow down, but overcompensated.  Overall, I was way ahead of my goal pace.  At the halfway mark, I was about three and a half minutes ahead of schedule.  I was on pace for roughly 3:43.

It occurred to me that I could slow down to nine minutes per mile the rest of the way, and I would still break 3:50.  I didn’t want to do that, however.  I didn’t want to get lazy.  This was a race, and I wanted to run the best pace that I could sustain.

To that end, I constantly asked myself two questions.  Did the pace feel tiring?  Did the pace feel too tiring?  The answer to the first question was always yes.  I always felt like I was putting effort into maintaining this pace.  The second question was harder to answer.  My gut feeling was that my effort wasn’t going to break me.  It seemed like it was sustainable for the whole race, but I couldn’t be 100 percent sure.

It helped that I was half done now.  I had been running into a headwind for 13 miles, and it didn’t seem to be wearing me down.  At this same point in last year’s race, the wind definitely was wearing me down.  While I wasn’t fond of running into a headwind, it wasn’t as strong this year.  In a way, this year’s lighter headwind may have been optimal.  The temperature was climbing into the 60s, and the humidity was high, yet I didn’t feel like I was getting hot.  The wind was keeping me cool enough.  To be on the safe side, I started drinking at every aid station.  I didn’t feel like I was sweating, but I probably was.

In the second half of the race, I saw lots of familiar landmarks.  The section of Beach Boulevard between Gulfport and Biloxi is something I’ve driven several times.  More and more, I started to feel at home.

In the 14th mile, I sped up again.  I once again began running times in the 8:30s in almost every mile.  I only had one other mile that was slower than my goal pace.

After 17 miles, I once again evaluated how I felt.  I still felt some soreness in my left leg, but it wasn’t getting worse.  Neither knee was bothering me.  Basically, I felt the same as I did after nine miles.  All things considered, that was good news.

One of the familiar landmarks was a pedestrian bridge over Beach Boulevard.  When I used to come to Biloxi on business trips, I would go for early morning training runs along Beach Boulevard.  I started at my motel, ran to a pedestrian bridge, and then turned around and ran back.  The original bridge was damaged by Hurricane Katrina.  I think this bridge was built to replace it.  It’s in roughly the same place.  As I passed under this bridge, I knew the next few miles would all feel familiar.

I somehow missed the mile marker at 18 miles.  About the time I expected to see it, I reached an aid station.  It’s possible the sign was near the aid station, but I was too focused on drinking to notice it.  I had to wait until 19 miles to check my pace.  When I got there, I saw that I averaged 8:35 for those two miles.

Another landmark I recognized was Beauvoir, which was the last home of Jefferson Davis.  I used to pass this on my training runs.  Soon, I recognized a pier that was near the motel where I used to stay.

At 21 miles, I started to notice some discomfort on the outside of my left knee.  This is one of the trouble spots I worried about.  It wasn’t a sharp pain, and it didn’t seem to be interfering with my mechanics.  As long as it didn’t get worse, I would be OK.  At the same time, I realized that I no longer seemed to have any soreness in that tendon that had been bothering me.  Maybe it just took a really long time to get warmed up.

On that note, I realized it was getting warmer.  The sun had come out from behind the clouds.  Before, the wind seemed like a mixed blessing.  Now I knew it was the only thing that would keep me from getting hot.

At 22 miles, I noticed a tall building in the distance and realize it was the Beau Rivage casino, which is across the street from MGM Park.  As the crow flies, it was only about two miles away, but I would have to run four miles to get there.  The course has a few turns in the last few miles.

I saw the sign for 22 miles, but somehow forgot to check my watch.  I had to wait for another mile before I could check my pace.  When that happens, I usually pick up my effort.  I’m always afraid I’ll start to slow down and not know it for two miles.

Now I could also see the Biloxi Lighthouse in the distance.  That made me hesitant to pick up my effort too much.  As I told another runner, the lighthouse marks the end of the “easy” part of the course.  After that, it gets more tiring.  I wanted to have a little extra gas in the tank when I got there.

I still picked up my effort.  At 23, I saw that the last two miles were still a little faster than my goal pace.  Then I focused on getting to the lighthouse.

I noticed the sun more now.  I wondered if the last three miles were going to get really hot.  As if on cue, the sun went behind the clouds, and the wind got stronger.  I wasn’t going to get hot.

Just after passing the lighthouse, I reached the 24-mile sign.  My time for that mile was 8:45.  I couldn’t believe it.  Up until now, I had run 20 fast miles and three slow miles.  I had yet to run a mile that was within four seconds of my goal pace.  Finally, on the 24th try, I nailed it.

As soon as I passed the 24-mile sign, I began the difficult part of the course.  It started with the ramp up to I-110.  First, we bent to the right and started going uphill.  Then, we began circling to the left, while continuing to climb.

The roadway was banked, to make it easier for cars to go around this turn.  That made it uncomfortable for running.  The pavement wasn’t smooth.  It had striations to keep it from getting too slippery when it was wet.  That made the surface rough.  In combination with the banked turn, that made it really uncomfortable for running.  I started noticing hot spots on the bottom of my feet.  I really wanted this section to be over with.

Surprisingly, I didn’t have too much trouble with the climb.  It wasn’t nearly as steep as I remembered.  I really struggled with it last year, but that was after being worn down by 24 miles of running into a stronger headwind.

As the road straightened out, I continued climbing, until I could look down into the baseball stadium at MGM Park.  Last year, the race finished inside the stadium, so it was full of activity.  This year, the stadium was empty.

After cresting the hill, I started running downhill.  We were doing an out-and-back on the interstate.  Ahead of me, I could see the turnaround point for the half marathon.  The marathon had a longer out-and-back.  Our turnaround point was about a quarter mile farther.  Before I got there, I reached the 25-mile sign.  I was curious to know how much I slowed down on the ramp to I-110.  My time for that mile was 8:26.  This was the toughest mile of the course, yet I ran it 19 seconds faster than the previous mile, which was flat.

As I approached the turnaround, the road appeared to level out.  It was only after making the turn that I could see that the approach to that turn was actually downhill.  After turning, I had to run back up the hill.

With just over a mile to go, I really wanted to put on a strong finish, but first I had to negotiate the hill.  To run strong on the hill, I focused on passing the runners who were right in front of me.  Then I ran down the ramp that took us back to Beach Boulevard.  As far as elevation change goes, mile 26 was the opposite of mile 25.

I originally assumed the out-and-back was just to make the distance come out right.  I’m sure that’s part of it, but I’ve since realized that it serves another purpose.  It moved us from the eastbound lanes of Beach Boulevard to the westbound lanes.  That’s easier said than done, because there’s a concrete barrier between them.

I made the sharp left turn onto Beach Boulevard.  After running past the south side of MGM Park, I made another sharp left to run past the east side.  This street was slightly uphill.  Somehow, I forgot that.

I passed the 26-mile sign.   I don’t remember what my time was.  I don’t remember if I even looked.  I just kept running.  I passed the point where we entered the stadium last year.  This year, we continued to the corner and made another left turn.

Runners who had already finished were cheering us on.  Our names were printed on our race bibs.  Several runners who didn’t know me were encouraging me by name.

After that turn, I expected to see the finish line.  I still had to make one more turn.  The finish line was outside the stadium, but we still had to turn and run into the park.  When I made the last turn, I immediately saw the finish line in front of me.  I finished in 3:43:35.

Apparently, I’m in better shape than I thought.  Even with a headwind and carrying an extra five pounds, I ran a time comparable to the times I was running last summer.  After running the first half at a pace that seemed like it was too fast, I ran roughly the same pace in the second half.  I had positive splits, but only because my first mile was so fast.

Throughout the race, I was running at a pace that seemed slightly tiring, but I always felt like I could sustain that effort to the finish.  I was right.  At the end of the race, I felt spent, but I never felt like the pace broke me.

After finishing, I retrieved my gear bag and got some post-race snacks.  When they could use the facilities of the baseball stadium, the post-race food was out of hand.  Even this year, it was better than average.  Besides as assortment of snack foods, we got pulled pork sandwiches.

I sat down on the curb, so I could watch for other runners while I ate.  I couldn’t sit down without falling backwards.  Yeah, my legs were completely spent.  When I was done eating, I needed help getting up.

My goal was to get a Boston qualifier for 2022.  I did that with more than six minutes to spare.  Now I don’t have any pressure to run fast.  I can ease up on my training without worrying about getting out of shape.  I can give my various injuries time to heal and then start a new training cycle.  I won’t have to worry about qualifying for Boston for another year.

This year, there weren’t many opportunities to qualify for Boston.  After the race, I realized my last Boston qualifier was in this same race a year ago.  I also don’t expect to have many qualifying opportunities in the next several months.  That’s OK now.  I only needed one.

I accomplished one other goal with this race.  It was my 5th marathon or ultra in Mississippi.  I want to eventually complete five circuits of marathons or ultras in every state.  I just got one step closer.

Race Statistics

Distance:  26.2 miles

Time:  3:43:35

Average Pace:  8:32

Lifetime Marathons/Ultras:  430

Mississippi Marathons/Ultras:  5

Boston Qualifiers:  131