Race Report: 2025 Bataan Memorial Death March Marathon

Deb has a brother who lives in New Mexico, and going there to visit has become an annual trip.  We’ve been timing our visits to coincide with nearby marathons.  For the last two years, we went in January, and I ran the State 47 Las Cruces Marathon.  This year, we went in March, and I ran the Bataan Memorial Death March Marathon.

This race is held in memory of soldiers who died during the infamous Bataan Death March during World War II.  When Japan invaded the Philippines, American and Filipino soldiers made their last stand at the Battle of Bataan.  After the battle, 76,000 soldiers were forced to surrender.  They were then forced to march 66 miles through the jungle to reach a prison camp.  During this forced march in hot humid conditions, they were given very little food or water.  They were beaten and tortured.  Any prisoner who couldn’t keep up the pace was executed.  Of the original 76,000, only 54,000 made it to the prison camp.  Many others died in captivity before the end of the war.

Many of the race participants are armed service members, although civilians are also welcome.  The race venue is White Sands Missile Range, which is a military base about 25 miles east of Las Cruces, MN.

Many consider this to be a bucket list race.  For me, the timing was never right.  It always conflicted with other plans.  This year, I finally ran it for the first time.

Wednesday, March 19

We flew to Albuquerque on Wednesday.  We couldn’t get a direct flight, so we didn’t arrive until late in the day.  We needed to drive to Las Cruces, but we waited until the next morning.  We spent that first night at one of the hotels near the Albuquerque airport.

Thursday, March 20

On Thursday, we drove to Las Cruces.  Along the way, we stopped to visit with Deb’s brother Jim and his wife Kath.  Jim gave us a tour of their new home.

We spent the next three nights at a hotel in Las Cruces.  After checking into our hotel, we picked up a few groceries.  We had dinner at the hotel and stayed in for the rest of the evening.

Friday, March 21

On Friday, I drove to White Sands Missile Range to pick up my race packet.  I’m glad I had a chance to preview this drive before race day, because the entrance to the base wasn’t where I thought it was.  My phone was directing me to a different gate on the other side of the highway.  I eventually found my way to the correct gate.  Once I was on the base, there were signs directing me to the parking area for packet pickup.

The race packet included a program with maps showing the marathon route and where we could park on race morning.  The route was modified this year, so it was different from the route I had seen on their website.  I’m wasn’t sure how the altered route would compare to the previous route as far as difficulty goes.

Years ago, survivors of the Bataan Death March would attend this event, and you could meet them and hear their stories.  Those men have since passed away, but their families prepared picture boards, so we could read about them.

Every runner had the opportunity to dedicate their race to the memory of a fallen soldier.  You could run in honor of someone you know, or you could wear the picture of a soldier who was chosen at random.  I was running in memory of Lance Corporal Ross Carver of the United States Marine Corps.  He was killed in action in Afghanistan in 2010.

In the afternoon, Deb and I did some shopping.  Then we drove out to a rest area on I-10 where you can look back and get a good view of the city and the Organ Mountains.  In case you’re wondering, White Sands Missile Range is just on the other side of those mountains.

At that same rest area, there’s a roadrunner sculpture made from scrap metal.

I had an early dinner and went to bed early, in anticipation of an early morning.

Saturday, March 22

Saturday was race day.  I had to get up early for the drive to White Sands Missile Range, where the race was held.  Runners staying in Las Cruces were advised to leave by 4:30 AM.  I left a little earlier than that, so I could get ahead of the traffic and have a better chance of finding a good parking space when I got to the base.

As usual, I was conflicted about whether to wear shorts or tights.  I normally wear tights if the temperature at the start is less than 50 degrees.  I expected the temperature to be in the 40s for the first two hours of the race, but I knew it would warm up quickly after that.  By noon, it would be in the 70s.  There were two other wildcards.  The midday sun can make it feel much hotter.  Also, this race has a reputation for strong winds, and that could make it feel colder.

No matter how I dressed I would either be cold in the early miles or hot in the late miles.  My body tolerates heat better than cold, so I wore tights.  I wore gloves and a Tyvek jacket to the start, but I could easily take those off before I started running.

Many of the guests at our hotel were there for the race.  As I left the hotel, I saw a table in the lobby with water bottles and grab-and-go breakfasts for the runners.  I had already eaten a few granola bars, so I didn’t need any more food before the race.

I got to the base shortly after 4:30, and there was already a long line to get onto the base.  Obviously, I wasn’t the only one who wanted to get there early.  I was still early enough to get a parking spot in the closest parking lot to where the race started.

I waited in my car until I needed to make a bathroom stop.  Then I took off my warm-up pants, locked the car, and walked over to where I saw port-o-potties.  At first, there wasn’t much of a line.  By the time I was done with my first bathroom stop, a line had formed.  I immediately got back in the line, knowing I’d have to go at least one more time before the race started.

When you register for this race, you need to choose one of four divisions: military heavy, military light, civilian heavy, and civilian light.  Service members are required to enter one of the military divisions, and they’re required to wear their uniforms and boots.  Civilians are required to enter one of the civilian divisions.  They can wear whatever they like, as long as it’s not any type of military attire.

Runners in either “heavy” division are required to wear a 35-pound pack.  I’m not a big guy, and I have a history of back problems, so I chose to enter the civilian light division.

Most people march the whole way, rather than running.  Because of that, most of the race information refers to participants as “marchers” rather than “runners.”

There were separate start corrals for each division, but there was also an extra corral in the front for wounded warriors.  Anyone who was planning to run the course, could line up in front of the wounded warriors, regardless of which division they were in.  I was planning to run as much of the course as I could, so I lined up in front.

I didn’t see many other runners lining up in front.  I suspect many of the other runners didn’t know they could line up there.  I knew because I saw that in the race program.

The race started at 6:30.  I had no idea when I would finish.  This is a difficult race.  In past years, the average finish time has been eight hours.  That’s a bit misleading, since most of the participants were marchers, and many of them were wearing heavy packs.  I’m wasn’t sure what the average time was for runners, but I knew I would be much slower here than I would be in a normal race.

There are two things that make this race difficult.  First, there are sections of the course where we’re running (or marching) in loose sand.  It’s also hilly.  I knew there would be sections where I would need to walk.

There are aid stations along the route, but we were advised to carry water with us as well.  Matchers in the heavy divisions were required to start the race with at least 32 oz. of water.  There wasn’t any minimum requirement for the light divisions, but we were advised to carry 32 oz. of water at all times.  I’m lighter than the average runner, and I expected to finish before the hottest hours of the day, so I carried 16 oz. of water.

They wanted us in our corrals by 6:00, even though the opening ceremony didn’t start until 6:30.  I’m not sure why we needed to be there so early.  I followed directions, but it meant waiting in the corrals for a long time without the opportunity to make another bathroom stop.  By the time the race started, I knew I’d have to make a bathroom stop in the early miles.

The opening ceremony lasted about 10 minutes.  It started with the national anthems of both the Philippines and the United States.  Then they spoke briefly about the Bataan Death March.  There were tributes to the wounded warriors and to all the service members who were marching.  There was a prayer for the fallen, and a prayer for the runners and marchers.

The race started on roads going through the base.  This part of the race was paved, so I started at about the same pace I would run if this was a road marathon.  I probably should’ve started at an easier pace, knowing that there would be some tough miles later.

I hadn’t had anything to drink since breakfast, so I felt thirsty almost immediately.  I only ran for a few minutes before taking a drink from my bottle.

In the first mile, I was passed by quite a few faster runners.  I suspect many of them had lined up farther back, because they didn’t know they could line up in front.

I was surprised when I was passed by a group of runners who were in the military heavy division.  They probably ran the first mile in eight minutes or faster.  They were young, but I was still impressed than anyone could run a marathon that fast while wearing army uniforms, boots, and heavy packs.

Early in the second mile, I saw a row of port-o-potties.  I didn’t hesitate to take the opportunity to empty my bladder.  That was a fairly quick stop.  As I got back onto the road, the runners around me were still going at a good pace.  Even though I was a little farther back in the pack, I started to find the pace to be tiring.

As we turned the next corner, I got a good view of the Organ Mountains.  We were running toward them now.

After about two miles, we turned onto a wide gravel trail and left the base to head north.  The trail was reasonably well-packed, but there were soft spots.  Running on the trail, I was forced to slow down.  For the next few miles, I was averaging about nine minutes per mile.  That’s slower than my road marathon pace, but not by that much.

I don’t like running with a water bottle, because I always feel the extra weight, even if it’s only 16 ounces.  The advantage of having a bottle is that I could take a drink anytime I was thirsty.  It turns out I was thirsty most of the time.  The first time I reached an aid station, I already needed to refill my bottle.  There were aid stations every two or three miles, but I was drinking more than once per mile.

After four miles, I caught up to the same group of soldiers who had passed me earlier.  I suspect they realized by now that their fast initial pace wasn’t sustainable with all the gear they were wearing.

The gravel trail was flat at first, but after a couple miles, I started to feel like we were going slightly uphill.  It was a gentle grade, but it took more effort just to run the same pace.

Just past the six-mile mark, we reached the northernmost point on the course.  We turned and headed south briefly.  Here, it was still slightly uphill.  It was getting more tiring, but we got a different view of the Organ Mountains.

Next, we turned again and started heading west.  As soon as I made that turn, I could see that it was going to be noticeably uphill for the next mile.

I also noticed that the trail was softer here.  If you’ve never run uphill in soft sand or gravel, it’s tiring.  I managed to run that mile without walking, but my pace was much slower.

At the end of that mile, there was an aid station at the top of the hill.  Then we turned onto a paved road that was slightly downhill.  That was a huge relief.  I needed that to recover from the previous mile.

We were only on this road for about a quarter mile.  Then we turned onto another trail.  This one started with a tiring hill.  Fortunately, the hill wasn’t too long.  I ran until I could see the top.  Then I took my first walking break of the race.  It wouldn’t be my last.

That hill was followed by a sharply downhill section.  Then we reached the “sand pit.”

The sand pit is a section of trail with loose gravel.  It’s extremely tiring, and it was almost a mile long.

Running through the sand pit, I was forced to adjust my gait.  I took shorter steps, and I picked up my feet more.  I ran for as long as I could, but this section was longer than I expected.  After running the first half of it, I had to walk the rest.

Running through the sand pit was my slowest mile so far.  The previous mile was slow, but this one was a minute slower.  It also took a lot out of me.

After the sand pit, we got back onto a nice firm trail.  The footing was much easier, but the terrain was rolling.

After 10 miles, we reached a junction in the trail.  If you were doing the marathon, you turned left the first time you got here, but right the next time around.  They also had a 14.2 mile race called the Honorary March.  Anyone doing the Honorary March turned right here.

After that turn, I was headed back toward the base for the next two and a half miles.  This section of the course was slightly downhill.  I really needed that to recover from the hills and the sand pit.

In past years, this race was one large loop.  This year, they changed it to a shorter loop, and we had to repeat about seven miles of it.  As we ran back toward the base, I started talking to a local runner who has done this race seven times before.  We talked about the pros and cons of the new course.

The original course went farther away from the base.  The first half of the race had a long uphill section going up into the mountains, but that was offset by a nice long downhill section in the second half.  On this course, we didn’t have the long climb or descent.  Instead, we had to run the sand pit a second time.  It wore me out the first time, and I wasn’t looking forward to running it again with more miles on my legs.

Somewhere between 12 and 13 miles, we got back onto the same gravel trail leading north from the base.  For the next seven miles, we were repeating a section we had run before.  This time, I started to see marchers who were still on their first loop.

Through the first half of the race, my average pace was just a little slower than 10 minutes per mile.  I knew the second half would be slower.  I had no idea how much slower.

The next few miles were a fairly runnable section, but I wasn’t running as fast as I ran it the first time.  Instead of averaging nine minutes per mile, I was averaging ten minutes per mile.  There were three reasons for that.  First, the tough sections of the first loop took something out of me.  Second, I knew I’d need to run those tough sections again, so I was more conservative in the miles leading up to them.  Finally, it was getting warmer, and the sun was higher in the sky.

I didn’t actually feel hot at this point, but I was constantly thirsty.  I was drinking more than I can remember ever drinking in a race, yet my throat always felt dry.

For the first half of the race, I was only drinking Gatorade, and it always seemed to be mixed too strong.  In the second half of the race, I had to switch to drinking water about half of the time.  The overly sweet Gatorade wasn’t sitting well in my stomach.

At 15 miles, I caught up to a runner who was in the military heavy division.  For the first 15 miles of the race, he had been ahead of me.  I was impressed that he could maintain that pace with everything he was wearing.  I made a point of telling him he was on an excellent pace.

Heading north on this trail for the second time, I was passing marchers, but it was only one or two at a time.  Then I got to the uphill mile with loose footing.  Suddenly, there were lines of marchers all over the road.  I was catching up to the main pack of marchers.

This time around, the footing was worse.  Thousands of marchers had already been through here, and anything that was firm before was now loose.

The marchers weren’t very good about leaving room for runners to get through.  Sometimes, the only was to get around was to run on the edge of the trail.  That’s where the footing was the worst.

The first time I ran this uphill section, I was slow, but I managed to run the whole way.  This time, I had to take a few walking breaks.

There were a few places along the course with pictures and info about soldiers who were at Bataan.  Some died during the Battle of Bataan.  Some died during the Bataan Death March.  Some died in the POW camp.  Some were survivors.

Again, I was relieved when we briefly got onto pavement and ran downhill.  This time, however, I knew that relief was going to be brief.  The hill that follows is short, but it’s steeper than any of the other uphill sections.  Once again, I ran until I could see the top, and then I took a walking break.

After that, the trail got narrow.  It was only About 10 feet wide, and I had to work much harder to get around the marchers.  Then I reached the sand pit again.

My second time through the sand pit had an additional challenge.  It was tough to get through all the marchers.  I was tempted to just fall in behind them and walk this whole section.  I resisted that temptation.

Just like the first time, I adjusted my gait.  I took shorter steps and I lifted my feet more.  I couldn’t go as far before taking a walking break, but I tried to limit my walking to only a minute at a time.  I had to take several walking breaks before I got through this section.

Before I got to the sand pit, I wondered if all the marchers would make the sand even softer.  They didn’t.  It was already as bad as it could get.  The marchers did, however, raise a cloud of dust.  Breathing all that dust wasn’t fun.

I eventually got back onto firmer footing, but the damage was done.  My first trip through the sand pit was tiring, but I was able to recover.  My second trip through the sand pit wore me out.  I never recovered from it.

After the sand pit, I encountered a different obstacle.  There were so many marchers on a narrow section of trail that the trail was clogged for as far as I could see.  I wasted a lot of energy weaving back and forth to find a place where I could get through.  I’m sure dozens of other runners had passed these same marchers, but it never seemed to occur to the marchers that more runners would need to get through.

Finally, at the 20-mile mark, I reached the junction in the trail where I previously turned left.  This time, I turned right.

Any marchers who were doing the marathon turned left here.  The only marchers who turned right were the ones doing the 14.2-mile Honorary March.  I could still see marchers ahead of me, but it was much easier to get around them now.  It also helped that the trail was wider for the next few miles.

The next time I came to an aid station, my bottle was empty.  I considered just drinking at the aid stations, so I didn’t need to carry any extra weight.  Without knowing how many more aid stations there were, I filled the bottle.  That was a good call.  I really needed to keep drinking more than once per mile.  I’ve never taken in this much fluid during a marathon, but it never seemed to be enough.

The previous few miles had worn me down.  In theory, I was now on an easier section of the course.  In practice, anything uphill forced me to take a walking break.  Mile 21 was rolling, so it was a run-walk mix.  Mile 22, was gently downhill, as we were now headed back to the base, which was the lowest elevation on the course.

Now that I was going steadily downhill, I could force myself to do continuous running.  My pace, however was still slow.

I ran downhill for about a mile and a half before I reached the edge of the base.  By the time I got there, I was feeling pressure building in my intestines.  I needed to make a bathroom stop.

With about three and a half miles to go, I reached an aid station.  There was a row of port-o-potties.  After pausing to drink some water, I made a bathroom stop.  It took a long time to get emptied out, but waiting wasn’t an option.

As I resumed running, I was much slower.  I was done with the downhill section.  The rest of the course was flat.  After running downhill for a mile and a half, running on level ground felt more tiring.  Also, my legs stiffened up a bit while I was in the port-o-potty.  Stopping for three or four minutes can do that.

The winds were unusually calm.  Up until now, I seldom noticed the wind.  When I did, it helped keep me from getting too hot.  On this stretch, I felt a headwind.  For the first time, the wind felt tiring.

Although I wasn’t moving as fast, I forced myself to keep running.  Midway through the 25th mile, I reached the point where the course for the Honorary March diverged from the marathon route.  Now, the only people ahead of me were other runners.  I could see a few runners in the distance, but I was running by myself.

For the next half mile, I was gradually catching up to two runners who were running together.  I was almost to the 25-mile mark when I suddenly saw them running toward me on a paved trail that was right next to the gravel trail.  I assumed I must be coming up on an abrupt turnaround onto the paved trail

I reached a point where the two trails were almost touching.  At the edge of the trail I was on, I saw some markings in orange paint.  This must be the turn.

Where was an orange line at the edge of the trail.  Over the middle of it, there was an orange “X.”  That’s an odd way to mark a turn.

I looked over to the other trail, and I saw an orange arrow pointing in the direction those two runners were going.  I began to make a U-turn onto that trail.  Then I looked back along that trail and saw another orange arrow pointing toward me.  It was coming from farther up the trail.

That’s when I knew that these two runners had made a wrong turn.  I’m sure it was an honest mistake, but they had cut the course.  I continue running on the gravel trail, and I quickly reached the 25-mile sign.

As I continued along the gravel trail, I eventually reached the point where I was supposed to turn onto the paved trail.  There was an aid station there.  They also had chip transponders.  The guys who made a wrong turn probably didn’t get credit for running the whole course, because they missed this timing point.

I had been forcing myself to keep running, even if it was slow.  In the last full mile, I finally broke down and took two walking breaks.  The first one was on a small hill.  The second one was just because my legs felt like cement and I could no longer force myself to run.  It wasn’t until I reached the 26-mile sign that I could force myself to run to the finish.

I finished the race in 4:45:56.  Before the race, I was wondering how much slower I would be on this course, compared to a more typical marathon course.  The answer is almost an hour slower.

I may have been overheating in the second half of the race, yet I rarely felt hot.  I felt dry, and I was getting increasingly tired, but if I was hot, I wasn’t consciously aware of it.

The finisher medal has the race logo, but it’s also in the shape of New Mexico.  That was a nice touch.

All runners and marchers received certificates of participation at packet pickup.  All finishers had the option of purchasing a finisher certificate as part of a photo package.  I didn’t buy the photo package.

After finishing, I drank a bottle of water.  Then I made my way to the results tent.  I typed in my bib number, but I didn’t get a result.  It showed my times at the first five timing points, but there wasn’t a finish time.  I assumed the system had some lag, so I went to see if I could get some post-race food.

There was a building with food, but it was only food for purchase.  I was surprised that they didn’t have any post-race food that was free to runners.

I went back to the results tent to see if they had my official result now.  I still didn’t have a finish time.  Two other runners who had finished recently also didn’t get results.

I walked over to the RV where the timekeepers were.  After I told them about my missing result, they went inside and did something and told me they could see my finish time now.  They told me to wait five minutes and then try again at the results tent.   When I went back, I was able to print my result.

The finish area was a distance away from where we started, but they had a shuttle that would take us to any of the parking areas.  I considered just walking back to my car, but I didn’t know how far it was.  Instead, I waited for the next shuttle.

Getting back to my hotel turned out to be complicated.  Because of streets being blocked off for the race, I couldn’t leave the base the same way I entered.  I had to drive east several miles to get to a different gate.  As I reached the road that would take me back out to the highway, the cars ahead of me all stopped.  For the longest time, I didn’t know what the delay was.

We eventually started moving.  As I turned onto the road leading out to the highway, I saw what the problem was.  That road was under construction, and there was only one lane open.  They could only allow traffic in one direction at a time.

I was done with the race by 11:30, but it was 1:00 by the time I got off the base and back out to the highway.  It was 1:45 by the time I got back to my hotel.

When I came into the hotel lobby, I saw that the table with grab-and-go breakfasts was still there.  I didn’t take one in the morning, so I took one when I got back.

Deb likes to shop at farmers’ markets.  They have one in Las Cruces on Saturdays.  While I was at the race, Deb went shopping at the farmers’ market.  I had the car, but she was able to get there and back by taking Lyfts.  When I got back to our room, I saw that Deb had bought me a pecan praline.  She also bought a bag of pecans.  Between the grab-and-go breakfast and the pecan praline, I now had plenty of food for lunch.  That’s good, because I was starving.  Deb had already eaten.

For the rest of the day, I felt wiped out, and it took a long time to rehydrate.  I didn’t have any sore muscles, however.

Sunday, March 23

The next morning, I still didn’t have any sore muscles.  I was rehydrated, so Sunday felt like it was just another day.  I did some strength training after breakfast.  Then we got on the road.

We needed to drive back to Albuquerque, but we had all day to get there, since we weren’t flying home until Monday.  That gave us another opportunity to visit with Jim and Kath.

When we got to Albuquerque, I had just enough time before dinner to go for a short recovery run.  The elevation in Albuquerque is about 5,300 feet, so even a short run was tiring.

About a week ago, I read an article listing the best diner in every state.  The author considered 66 Diner in Albuquerque to be the best diner in New Mexico.  Deb and I had dinner there on a trip to Albuquerque in 2008.  Since we were back in Albuquerque for one more night, we decided to go there for dinner again.

Monday, March 24

Our flight home wasn’t until early afternoon, so we had time for a leisurely breakfast, and I had time to do some walking.

When I saw the official results for the race, I was surprised how slow the average times were.  Even among men in the civilian light division, the average time was 8:25.  Before and during the race, I wondered how this year’s course compared to the course used in previous years.  The results suggest that this course was tougher.  All things considered, I’m happy with my time.  Within my division, I took 27th place out of the 837 men who finished.

Race statistics:

Distance:  26.2 miles

Time:  4:45:56

Average Pace:  10:54

First Half:  2:12:02

Second Half:  2:33:54

Lifetime Marathons/Ultras:  541

Race Report: 2025 Pettit Indoor Marathon

On March 9, I ran the Pettit Indoor Marathon.  This race is held inside the Pettit National Ice Center in Milwaukee.  This is where Olympic speed skaters train.  In the center of the building, there are two hockey rinks.  Around the hockey rinks, there’s a speed skating track.  Around that track, there’s a three-lane running track.

This isn’t the first time I’ve run an indoor marathon.  I’ve done six others, including one called Heatbreaker that was in this same building.

When I ran the Heatbreaker Marathon in 2014, I drove to Milwaukee.  My lower back and legs are less tolerant of long drives than they were when I was younger.  Also, you never know what road conditions will be like at this time of year.  For those reasons, I flew to Milwaukee and rented a car.

I flew to Milwaukee Saturday morning, arriving just in time for lunch.  I don’t recall why I scheduled an early flight.  I didn’t need to check in for the race until Sunday morning.

After picking up my rental car, I went straight to a Chinese restaurant, where I had lunch.  After lunch, it was still too early to check in at my hotel.  There was a brewery near my hotel that was open, so I stopped in to have a beer flight and watch a soccer match.

After checking into my room, I spent most of the afternoon relaxing at the hotel.  I charged up my phone, did a workout in the fitness room, and organized my clothes for the race.

I had dinner at Rocky Rococo, which has pan-style pizza.  It’s a Wisconsin chain, and I never go to Wisconsin without stopping there.  They’re best known for pizza by the slice, but you can also order a whole pizza.  My hotel room had a kitchenette, so I got a pizza that was enough for two meals.  I ate half for my pre-race dinner, and saved the other half for after the race.

When I scheduled this race, I didn’t notice that race day was the same day that we set the clocks ahead.  With that in mind, I went to bed an hour earlier to compensate.

There was a clock on the night stand, but I didn’t know if it would adjust automatically for Daylight Savings Time.  Some do.  Some don’t.  My room had a microwave, so I set the clock on the microwave to reflect the time change.  I often get up during the night.  If I looked at the clock on the microwave, I would know it was the correct time for Sunday morning.

I slept OK for most of the night, but I woke up at 4:30 and couldn’t get back to sleep.  After laying awake in bed for the next 45 minutes, I finally got up and started getting ready.

The marathon started at 8:00, but we could check in any time after 7:00.  My hotel had a free breakfast, but it didn’t start until 7:00.  I wanted to leave before then, so I had my leftover Chinese food for breakfast.

When I got out to my car, the windows were covered with frost.  Fortunately, there was a scraper in the car.  After scraping the frost off the windows, I started the car and saw that the inside of the windshield was all fogged up.  Before I could see to drive, I had to warm up the car long enough to get the windows defogged.

The temperature inside the Pettit National Ice Center was a constant 55 degrees.  Knowing that took all the guesswork out of how to dress.  I could run in shorts and a T-shirt, knowing I wouldn’t get too hot or too cold.  I also didn’t have to worry about rain or wind.

Per-race check-in was in a room upstairs that overlooks the ice arena.  Thankfully, that room was warmer.  I waited there until it was almost time to line up for the race.

The field was limited to 130 runners.  With that many runners going at different speeds, I expected to constantly pass slower runners, while faster runners were constantly passing me.

My past experience with indoor races is that inevitably, you don’t take the shortest path.  You may only run a few extra yards in each lap, but it adds up.  I fully expected to run as much as an extra half mile by the time I was done.  With that in mind, I couldn’t expect to be as fast as I would be in a typical road race.

I often set qualifying for Boston as a goal.  The organizers of the Boston Marathon have a rule that you can’t qualify for Boston at in indoor race, even if the course is certified.  In Minnesota, we call that the “Randy Peterson” rule.   Randy Peterson is the only runner to get into Boston with a qualifying time from an indoor marathon.  They accepted his qualifying time, but immediately added a new rule saying you couldn’t qualify at an indoor race.

Since there was no point in trying to qualify for Boston, I set my sights on breaking four hours.  That was a realistic goal for an indoor race, but it would still take my best effort.

The race is chip timed.  We wore timing chips on our ankles, and our laps were automatically recorded each time we crossed the timing mat at the finish line.  They had a display just past the finish line that showed our lap counts, and the time of our most recent lap.

The track is 443 meters per lap.  To complete a marathon, we needed to run 95 full laps, plus an extra 110 meters.  We did the extra 110 meters at the beginning.  Our starting line for that lap was about one fourth of the way around the track from where we finished each lap.  The first time we crossed the timing mat, it was only a partial lap, but that still counted as a lap.  Including that short lap, we needed to do a total of 96 laps.

If you divide four hours by 96 laps, it works out to 2:30 per lap.  The first lap was short, so it would obviously take less time.  If I could average 2:30 for all subsequent laps, I would break four hours.  That was my plan.

I wore two watches.  Because we were indoors, it didn’t make sense to try to time the race using a GPS watch.  I timed myself using a plain Timex watch.  I wore my Garmin watch on my other wrist, so it could keep track of my step count.

I started kind of fast.  My partial lap took less than 30 seconds.  My next few laps were in the 2:20s.  Before long, I had made up the time from my partial lap.  For the rest of the race, I was keeping my average lap time under 2:30, but I was effectively one lap ahead.

I was surprised how cold I felt.  My hands were cold, and I wished that I was wearing gloves.  My hands felt better after a few laps, but I can’t say that I was ever completely comfortable.

There were a few runners here who were much faster than everyone else.  There was a protocol for letting the faster runners run in lane one.  If a faster runner was approaching a slower runner from behind, they would yell, “Track.”  The runners ahead of them would then move out of lane one to let the faster runner pass without having to go around them.

I was initially skeptical of this system, but it actually worked well.  There were only a few runners who were concerned with always taking the inside lane.  Also, at least half of the runners stayed in lanes two or three for the entire race.

I started out running in lane one.  The first time a faster runner needed to pass me, it took me by surprise.  I was still in my second full lap, when I heard someone yell, “track” twice in rapid succession.  I quickly moved over.

After that, I made a habit of running in lane two on the straight sections.  I only ran in the inside lane on the turns.

Before entering a turn, I always looked over my shoulder to see if a faster runner was approaching from behind.  If there was, I would wait until they passed before moving into lane one for the turn.  If nobody was approaching, I could move into lane one right away.

There were three fast runners who passed frequently.  The fastest runner was lapping me roughly every other lap.  He was finishing three laps in the same time it took me to run two laps.  Sometimes, he would catch up to me in a turn, and I would need to move over to let him pass.

This was a cupless race.  There were tables where we could leave water bottles that were labeled with our bib numbers.  The volunteers organized them by bib number.  When you wanted to take a drink, you yelled out your bib number as you ran by.  One of the volunteers would find your bottle and hand it to you the next time you ran by.  You needed to carry the bottle with you for one lap while you drank.  Then you handed it to one of the volunteers the next time you ran by.  If your bottle needed refilling, you could just tell the volunteer if you wanted water or Gatorade.  They took care of it.

I can’t say enough about how good this system worked and how good the volunteers were.  I never had to slow down or stop.

They also had a table for runners who wanted to be self-service.  You could put your food, bottles, or other supplies there and handle it yourself.

I got into a habit of drinking Gatorade every sixth lap.  After drinking, I was always surprised how quickly it was time to drink again.  That’s because taking a drink became a three-lap process.  For example, when I saw that I finished my 18th lap, I knew it was time to ask for my bottle.  The tables were near the end of each lap, so by the time I came around to request my bottle, I was almost done with my 19th lap.  I would get my bottle the next time I came by.  Now I was almost done with my 20th lap.  I would carry the bottle with me for most of my 21st lap before handing it back to one of the volunteers.  Before I knew it, I was done with 21 laps.  In just three laps, I would begin this process again.

I had so much to think about that it kept me focused 100% of the time.  I was always paying attention to my effort and my lap times, keeping them as close as I could to 2:30 per lap.  I was constantly paying attention to running the shortest path I could, while getting out of the way of the faster runners.  On top of that, I had to pay attention to my lap count, so I would know when to request my bottle.  If you think an indoor race is boring, guess again.  It’s intense.

Believe it or not, I actually got confused about whether I should be grabbing a bottle from the volunteers.  More than once, I couldn’t remember if I had just requested a bottle or if I had just returned my bottle.

They had a sound system, and each runner could pick one song for the playlist.  I chose “Jessica” by the Allman Brothers Band, but I never heard it.  They probably didn’t get to it until after I finished.

Every now and then, I would hear a light buzz from my Garmin watch.  It did that every time I reached a multiple of my step goal.  That happened four times during the race.

For the first hour of the race, I was so focused that I barely noticed the music.  Then I started to pay more attention to it.  I heard something by Eminem, but the sound quality was kind of muddy, so I couldn’t make out the lyrics.  I only know it was Eminem, because he has such a distinct style.

The first few songs I recognized were “Whole Lotta Love” and “The Immigrant Song” by Led Zeppelin and “You Need to Calm Down” by Taylor Swift.  Over the course of the race, I heard lots of familiar songs, but I also heard several that I didn’t know.

Besides the display near the finish line, there were two leader boards at different places around the track.  They each cycled through all the runners in order of our current position in the standings.  I was about a third of the way through the race before I noticed where I was in the standings.  I was in 18th place.

The PA announcer didn’t generally say what song was next, but there was one exception.  At one point, he asked if we were ready for some thunder.  I was expecting to hear “Thunder” by Imagine Dragons.  Instead, the next song was “Thunderstruck” by AC/DC.

On one of my laps, I felt my timing chip riding down on my ankle.  I stopped briefly to reposition it, and to tighten the strap.  That lap was a little slow, but I picked up my effort on the next lap to make up the time.

Before long, I wanted to make a bathroom stop.  There were two port-o-potties right next to the track, but I didn’t want to stop again.  I didn’t want to lose more time, and I didn’t want to get out of my rhythm, so I held it for the entire race.

I wasn’t quite halfway through the race when I noticed that I had moved into 17th place.  At the same time, I also noticed that the runner in 16th place was 60 years old.  I didn’t know if they had age group awards, but I wondered if I was competing for one.  That gave me the motivation I needed to keeping pushing the pace as I entered the second half of the race.

Although my target pace was 2:30 per lap, most of my laps were a couple seconds fast.  That adds up.  Eventually, I was finishing my laps a minute and a half ahead of schedule.  That’s on top of completely making up the time from my partial lap.

I don’t know exactly what my halfway split was, but my best guess is that I was on pace for a time around 3:55.

For the longest time, I was focused on the leader boards.  You could only see about 20 runners at a time, and it was somewhat random which part of the list I saw when I went by.  I was curious to know if any of the other runners ahead of me were in my age group.  It took several laps, but I eventually determined that I was in second place among men over 60.  The guy right ahead of me was in first place.  Overall, we were still 16th and 17th.

The leader board also showed how many laps we had each completed.  The guy ahead of me always had the same lap count as me, but I didn’t know where he was or what he looked like.  He was on the same lap, but his lead could be as much as a quarter mile.

By now, there were skaters on the speed skating track.  Occasionally the PA announcer would tell us the name of an Olympic gold medalist who was coming around the track.  Then we were told that someone else famous had entered the building.

The other famous person wasn’t a skater, but she was an Olympian.  It was Rachael Gunn, a.k.a. “Raygun,” the break dancer from Australia.  I’m not sure why she was here, but I decided it was time to get my phone out and take a few pictures.

I wasn’t originally planning to take pictures during the race.  I wasn’t even planning to have my phone with me.  I was planning to take a few photos before the race and then put my phone in my car.  I made a last-minute decision to keep my phone in my fanny pack, because it was cold outside, and I didn’t want to make a last-minute trip to my car.

A lot of people don’t like to run multiple laps, because you always see the same scenery.  That’s true, but this race had some unique sights.

It’s not every day that you get to watch speed skaters as you’re running.

At first, Raygun was doing some break dancing for us, but I didn’t have my phone out yet.  By the time I tried to take a photo, she wasn’t doing the same moves.  I couldn’t get a good picture anyway.  I had my camera app in burst mode, but every photo was blurry – all 99 of them.

I was getting tired, but I was determined to catch up to the runner ahead of me.  Taking photos caused me to have a couple of slower laps, so I tried to really pick up my pace after putting my phone away.  Just as I was beginning to bear down, they played “Under Pressure” by Queen & David Bowie.  That was just the music I needed.

The next time I saw the leader board, I saw that I had moved up to 14th place.  I had passed the guy in my age group who I was chasing.  He was in 15th place now.

I continued to pick up my effort.  I was consistently running laps in 2:26 or 2:27.  I kept looking at the leader boards to see if I was moving up, but my timing was always off.  I always saw people who were farther back in the standings.  For the rest of the race, I never saw the top 20 again.

They announced whenever someone was getting close to finishing, starting when they had five laps to go.  At one point, I heard them say that the leader was starting his final lap.  I was just entering the first turn.  I knew the leader couldn’t be too far behind me, so I stayed in lane two all the way around that turn.  As it turns out, he didn’t pass me until I was out of the turn.  Two of the other fast runners passed me just before the leader did.

The leader finished in 2:31:10.  The next two runners were several laps behind him, but after they finished, I wasn’t getting passed as often.  It got much easier to run in lane one going through the turns.

In a race like this, you’re never conscious of how many miles you’ve run.  It’s all about laps and time.  When I passed the three-hour mark, I was relieved to know that I had less than an hour to go.

On one of my laps, I crossed the timing mat at about the same time as the other guy in my age group who I had been chasing earlier.  When I looked at the board, I saw both of our lap times.  His lap time was 2:59.  Earlier, we were both running our laps in 2:30 or faster.  I still was, but he had slowed down dramatically.  That’s when I knew I had won my age group.  I also knew by now that I would break four hours.  Now, I was focused on finishing strong.

With 16 laps to go, I felt like I was getting close.  That may sound like a lot of laps, but they go quickly.  I felt like I was in the home stretch.

I was fighting to pick up the pace, but my lap times weren’t getting any faster.  Most were in the 2:26 to 2:28 range, but I had a couple as slow as 2:31.  I had to work harder to run the same pace, but I was determined to try to speed up.

My most recent drink of Gatorade was during my 80th lap.  I decided to wait until after my 88th lap before requesting my bottle for the last time.  It was the usual three-lap process.  By the time I started drinking, I was beginning my 90th lap.  When I handed my bottle back to the volunteers, I was about to finish my 91st lap.  I had five laps to go.

After crossing the timing mat, I heard the PA announcer say “David Holmen has five laps to go.”  For the next four laps, I tried to pick up my pace.  I kept from slowing down, but I wasn’t really speeding up, despite the extra effort.

As I started my last lap, I heard, “David Holmen is on his final lap.”  I was already accelerating.  In front of me, I saw a group of runners who were temporarily taking up all three lanes.  For the first time in the race, I shouted, “Track!”  Then I sped by them in lane one.

I ran that last lap as hard as I could.  By the time I was out of the first turn, my breathing was so labored that I was wheezing loudly with each breath.  I didn’t have to yell, “track” again.  Everybody heard me coming.

When I passed the volunteers at the water tables, they were all cheering loudly.  That was by far my fastest lap.  I ran it in 2:09.

I finished the race in 3:55:16.  My best guess is that I ran roughly even splits, despite stopping to take pictures in the second half of the race.

I finished 12th overall.  For what it’s worth, I was first among men over 60, but they didn’t have any age group awards.  That’s not unusual for a small race like this.  I fought for it just in case.  The important thing is that it kept me focused.

The same volunteer who gave me my finisher medal also removed my timing chip.  I’m glad she was on top of that, because I could’ve forgotten to turn it in.  By now, I had forgotten that I was wearing it.

After gathering up all my stuff, I finally made a bathroom stop.  Then I went upstairs to have some snacks and talk to other runners.

Although I never heard them play “Jessica,” I did hear them play “Thunder” by Imagine Dragons.  That song started shortly after I got upstairs.

I was expecting to be cold when I walked out to my car, but I was surprisingly comfortable.  It was a sunny day, and I felt more comfortable in the sun than I did inside the building.

When I got back to my hotel, I took a long hot shower.  Then I had the other half of my pizza from Rocky Rococo.

Besides counting my steps, my Garmin watch was also recording my heart rate.  When I downloaded the data, I saw that my heart rate peaked at 143 beats per minute.  That’s consistent with other races where I’ve gone all-out.  I didn’t have my watch in “run mode,” so I don’t know what my average heart rate was.  I only know my range for the day.

Race statistics:

Distance:  26.2 miles

Time:  3:55:16

Average Pace:  8:58 per mile

Lifetime Marathons/Ultras:  540

Indoor Marathons:  7