My First Marathon

This is a Throwback Thursday post.  I haven’t posting one of these in years.

I’ve been writing race reports for almost 15 years.  At first, I posted them as Facebook Notes.  When Facebook mothballed the Notes feature, I started this blog.  Still, I had already run more than 80 marathons and ultras before I starting writing race reports of any kind.

This post is an attempt to recall what I can of my first marathon.  I ran it 42 years ago, and I never wrote a race report at the time, so my memory is a bit sketchy.  I’m actually surprised how much I can remember.  There’s nothing quite as memorable as your first marathon, so certain details stick in my mind.

For my first marathon, I chose the Twin Cities Marathon, which was a home-town race.  The first Twin Cities Marathon was held in 1982.  I wanted to run it that year, but I injured my knee while playing softball.  That sidelined me for the rest of the year, so I set my sights on 1983 instead.

I had no idea how to train for a marathon.  I wasn’t following any training plan.  My average weekly mileage was inadequate, but I made a point of doing long training runs.  My first long training run was 14 miles.  After that, I gradually built up to the marathon distance.

When I started training, I had hopes of finishing a marathon in 3:15.  Most of my training runs were multiple laps of a 1.75-mile loop.  On my first 14-mile long run, I was able to average 13 minutes per lap.  I naively assumed that I could eventually get into good enough shape to hold that same pace for a marathon.

As the distance increased, and summer heat set in, I found my pace getting slower.  I eventually built up to 15 laps, which is 26.25 miles.  My pace per lap, however, had slowed to roughly 15 minutes per lap.

My 26.25-mile training run took 3:44:32.  That was in summer heat.  I knew by then that 3:15 wasn’t a realistic goal, but I still thought I could run a marathon in 3:30.  The race wasn’t until October, and by then, the weather would likely be much cooler.

In August, I was as ready as I was going to be.  Unfortunately, I had peaked too soon.  My longest training run was eight weeks before the race.  After that, I got complacent.  By early October, I had taken it easy for far too long.

Two friends, who were also co-workers, were also training for this race.  It was also going to be their first marathon.  Randy and John did their long training runs together.  I mostly trained on my own, but I joined them for one of their long training runs.  I stayed with them until we were close enough to home that I knew the way home.  Then I went ahead on my own.  At the time, we all assumed I would be faster in the marathon.

The start of the race was in downtown Minneapolis.  I remember getting a ride to the start from Randy.  As we rode to the start, we were listing to a mix tape that Randy made.  I can still remember two of the songs.  One was “Who Are You” by The Who.  The other was “Lightning Strikes” by Lou Christie.

I don’t recall where we parked, but we made our way to the start area, which was next to the Pillsbury Building in downtown Minneapolis.  Pillsbury was one of the major sponsors of the race.

The weather wasn’t as cool as I was expecting.  It was 63 degrees at the start.  That wouldn’t be so bad, but the dew point was also 63.  It was 100 percent humidity.  The fog was so dense that you couldn’t see more than two blocks.

They had signs showing us where to line up, based on the pace we expected to run.  They spaced these signs to get us to line up over several blocks.  The idea was to have the enough space between us that we would have room to run as soon as the gun went off.  I thought it worked well, but I’ve never seen that at any other large races.  At most large races, you’re packed in like sardines.

While I was waiting for the race to start, I recognized a runner who was a track star at the University of Minnesota.  I had seen him run 10K on a track at pace of roughly 4:40 per mile.  A race official asked him if he was willing to be a guide for a blind runner.  I don’t know if he had previous experience doing that, but he agreed to do it.

Before we started running, I heard the theme from “Chariots of Fire.”  That movie was still fairly recent, and that music had become an anthem for runners.

As we started running, I was just a short distance behind the blind runner and his guide.  They were running fast.  It amazed me that they could go that fast without bumping into people or tripping on a curb.  If I couldn’t see where I was going, I would be forced to run cautiously, even with a guide.

The route out of downtown was different than it is today.  I quickly established a pace that was fast enough to finish a marathon in 3:30.  At first, it felt deceptively easy.

I was roughly a mile into the race when I noticed that sweat was running down my arm and dripping from my wrist.  I didn’t realize yet how much the high humidity would take a toll on me.

As we left downtown Minneapolis, we turned onto Hennepin Avenue.  After running past the Walker Art Center, we turned onto Douglas Avenue to begin running toward Kenwood Park.

I had my keys in a small pocket on the back of my shorts.  That’s where I always kept them during training runs, and I had never had a problem before.  As I rounded the turn onto Douglas, I heard a clank and immediately reached back to feel my pocket.  The keys weren’t there.  There was a small hole at the bottom of the pocket.

I assumed the sound I heard was my keys hitting the pavement.  I stopped and got down on the ground to feel around for my keys.  I couldn’t see much, because I was right at the corner, with hundreds of runners all negotiating the turn.

I was on all fours.  I felt like I was swimming upstream with runners bumping into me and tripping over me.  That was stressful, but I found my keys.  After that, I had to carry them in my hand as I ran.

At this point, I was roughly two miles into the race.  The next eight miles were very similar to the current course.  We made a left turn at Kenwood Park.  Then we ran past three of the lakes in south Minneapolis.  The first one was Lake of the Isles.  That was followed by Lake Calhoun and Lake Harriet.  Along this part of the course, there were thick crowds on both sides of the street.

When we left Lake Harriet, were about seven miles into the race.  I was still averaging eight minutes per mile and feeling comfortable.

Next, we got onto the Minnehaha Parkway, which follows Minnehaha Creek.  This part of the course had a few small hills, but nothing too tiring.

When we ran under the Nicollet Avenue Bridge, there was a small brass band set up under the bridge.  They were playing the theme from “The Muppets.”

Somewhere along the parkway, I passed a runner who must have started earlier.  He had some type of disability, and he was running with crutches.  I could see the tremendous effort that he was putting into each step.  His face was bright red.  I couldn’t imagine doing that for 26.2 miles.

Randy’s girlfriend, Maggie, was watching for Randy at different points along on the course.  I was about 10 miles into the race when Maggie spotted me running along the Minnehaha Parkway and took this picture.

Maggie and I both worked in the same grocery store, so I knew I would see her again at work.  I ran over and handed her my keys.  I explained about the hole in my pocket, and I asked her to hang onto my keys and give them back to me the next time she saw me at work.  I had been holding those keys in my hand for eight miles.  It was a relief to get rid of them.

The current course includes a loop around Lake Nokomis.  The original route didn’t do that.  Instead, we continued along Minnehaha Parkway until we reached the Mississippi River.

I had read that it’s helpful to wear something with your name on it.  I didn’t have my name on my shirt, but I wore a mesh T-shirt with the maroon and gold colors of the University of Minnesota.  The word “Minnesota” was on the front.  At various times throughout the race, I heard shouts of “Go Minnesota” from the crowd.

From time to time, I heard music.  People in the crowd were playing music on boom boxes.  More than once, I heard the theme from “Rocky.”  One song that really resonated with me was “Break My Stride” by Matthew Wilder.  The chorus matched my mood perfectly:

“Ain't nothin' gonna break my stride.  Nobody gonna slow me down.  Oh no, I got to keep on moving.  Ain't nothin' gonna break-a my stride.  I'm runnin' and I won't touch ground.  Oh no, I got to keep on moving.”

Next, we followed the West River Parkway for about two and a half miles.  The current course continues north as far as the Franklin Avenue Bridge.  The original route crossed the river at Lake Street.  After that, the course was quite a bit different from the current route.  There were more miles in St. Paul, and there were some significant hills.

After crossing the river, Lake Street became Marshall Avenue.  I was still on Marshall Avenue when I reached the 14-mile sign.  I no longer felt fresh, but I was still on pace to finish in 3:30.

We followed Marshall as far as Fairview Avenue.  Then we turned right and headed south.  That’s when the wheels started to come off.  I had been running at an unsustainable pace.  On top of that, I had been sweating profusely since the start of the race.  Now, my legs were beginning to cramp.

The aid stations had water and ERG, which stood for energy replacement with glucose.  I was just drinking water, and it’s possible I was suffering from an electrolyte imbalance.

During my long training runs, I drank both water and orange juice.  I would start out drinking water, but I would switch to orange juice when I got sick of drinking water.  It didn’t occur to me at the time, but that may be why I never had cramping like this in my long training runs.  Orange juice is a good source of potassium.

I wasn’t at all familiar with the streets in this neighborhood, so I didn’t know how long I had been running south along Fairview.  The street names were all unfamiliar.  I missed one of the mile markers, so I went a long way without any sense of how far I had gone.

The course went all the way down to the Highland Park neighborhood.  As you might guess from the name, this part of St. Paul is hilly.  Coming back along Edgecumbe Road and Lexington Parkway, I struggled with the hills.  I was about 22 miles into the race when I finally broke down and started walking on one of the hills.

As I was walking, Randy caught up to me.  He had started at a slower pace, but he moved past me as I was walking.  Later, Randy told me how surprised he was to see me.  We both assumed I would be faster, but Randy paced himself more sensibly.

I forced myself to start running again, but I walked again on the next hill.  I was on my third long walking break when John passed me.  John was wearing a light-colored shirt, and there were two streams of blood running down the front of his shirt.  I had already learned to put band-aids over my nipples on long runs.  I’m sure it was painful, but he was still running.  I was walking.

I forced myself to run again, but I took one last walking break as I started the last mile of the race.  I was disappointed with my overall pace, but I realized I could still break four hours.  I made a guess of how long I could afford to walk before I would need to run the rest of the way.

We crossed the freeway on John Ireland Boulevard.  The current course finishes in front of the state capitol.  The original course made a turn in front of the capitol and then turned again onto Wabasha Street.  We crossed the freeway again and ran down a steep hill toward the finish line, which was near Dayton’s.

My sister, Betty, and her husband, John, were watching for me near the finish.  As I ran down that hill, Betty took a picture.

I finished with an official time of 3:59:39.  They didn’t use chip timing back then, so that time includes the time it took me to reach the starting line after the gun went off.  I didn’t start my watch until I crossed the starting line.  According to my watch, my actual time on the course was 3:59:18.

Betty and John gave me a ride home, but first we stopped for lunch at Pannekoeken Huis, which specialized in Dutch oven pancakes.  I had a pancake with strawberry topping.  I can still remember how the strawberry sauce made my mouth sting.  That’s when I realized I was badly dehydrated.

I used to always watch the Minnesota Vikings football games on Sundays.  They had a noon game that day, and I was anxious to get home before I missed too much of the game.  I remember they were playing the Dallas Cowboys.  I don’t remember who won.

The next time I went to work, I got my keys from Maggie.  I never used that pocket again. 

Race Report: 2025 Bound for Boston Marathon

On August 17, I ran the Bound for Boston Marathon in Maple Grove, MN.  This race is put on by Five Star NTP, which also has “Bound for Boston” marathons in several other cities.

I only learned about this race a few months ago.  I was pleased to discover a local race that I could run in August.  Deb had knee replacement surgery two weeks ago, and I don’t plan to travel anywhere until she’s farther along in her recovery.  If I was going to run a marathon in August, it had to be a local race.

I was so excited to find a race I could do without traveling that I didn’t look too closely at the details of the race.  It wasn’t until later that I discovered that this race was first held in 2024.  When I looked up last year’s results, I saw only seven names listed.  Of those, only five finished.  I’m not sure what surprised me more, the small number of participants or the fact that two didn’t finish.

I belong to various clubs like the 50 States Marathon Club and Marathon Maniacs.  They have rules about what’s considered to be a marathon.  It can’t just be a few friends getting together and running a 26.2-mile training run.  It has to be an official race.

This race met most of the rules.  There was a website, they provided advance notice of the race, the course was measured to be at least 26.2 miles, there was a race director and independent timekeeping, and they publish results.  There was only one potential problem.  Those clubs require a minimum number of finishers.  Five isn’t enough.

I initially attributed the low turnout to the fact that 2024 was the first year.  I didn’t know about this race last year.  Maybe other people didn’t know about it either.  I was cautiously optimistic that they would have a higher turnout in their second year.

The course is certified, and the race is billed as a good place to qualify for Boston, because the course is flat.  I was skeptical of that.  To run a fast time, you also need favorable weather, and August isn’t known for cool temperatures.

About two weeks before the race, I noticed something else that I had previously overlooked.  As I was looking up the race morning schedule, I saw that packet pickup started at 5:45, and the race started at 6:30.  That’s all fine.  Then I noticed that the course closes at 10:30.  What?  That’s only four hours after the start.  I had to doublecheck.  The time limit was four hours.

Now I understood why so few people do this race.  Apparently, they’re only expecting runners who are trying to qualify for Boston.  Four hours is a tight enough time limit to deter many middle-of-the-pack runners.  It completely excludes back-of-the-pack runners.

I know several runners who do most of the local races.  In general, they’re always looking for an opportunity to fit an extra race into their schedule.  Unfortunately, four hours is just too fast for them.  I couldn’t even be confident that I could finish in four hours.  On a good day, I can run a time in the 3:40s, but that’s with favorable conditions.  If it was a hot day, finishing in four hours might prove to be difficult.

I was expecting temperatures in the 70s with high humidity.  The wildcard was a possible thunderstorm.  A large storm system had stalled over the Midwest.  The day before the race, we had periods of heavy rain with thunder, and there were flash flood warnings.

I set my alarm for 4:00 AM, but a loud noise woke me up ay 3:30.  I couldn’t get back to sleep, so I ate breakfast and started getting ready.  I was relieved when I looked outside and didn’t see any rain.

I checked the weather app on my phone.  It said heavy rain would be starting in about an hour.  I looked at the weather radar and saw a large storm system was slowly moving up from farther south.

Would they cancel the race if there was a thunderstorm?  I checked my email and saw a new email form the race organizers.  It made no mention of the weather.  It was just the QR code I would need to pick up my race packet.  I left a little early, in case I had to drive through heavy rain.

The race venue was Fernbrook Elementary School.  The course was 24 laps of a 1.1 mile loop going around the school grounds.  It was mostly paved, but had a section of wooden walkway.

I showed up with several concerns.  Could I stay on pace for a four-hour finish in these conditions?  How many other runners would be running?  If I finished in time, would my running clubs even count it?  Would I be running in a thunderstorm?

I was going to give it a try regardless.  It’s been three weeks since my last marathon, and my next one isn’t until September.  If nothing else, I needed a long training run to bridge the long gap between my last marathon and my next one.

I got in line behind two other runners to pick up my race bib.  The runners ahead of me were both doing the half marathon.  When it was my turn, I asked the race director how many people were running the marathon.  He said 24 runners were signed up for it.  That assuaged my first concern.  The race was large enough.

Another runner asked about the time limit.  The race director said they only say four hours, because they don’t want runners signing up who will need seven hours to finish.  He went on to say that he wouldn’t pull anyone off the course if they weren’t done in four hours.  He just didn’t want us to still be on the course at noon.

I talked to two other runners before the race who both said they were expecting times between 4:00 and 4:30.  If I couldn’t break four hours, I would still get an official finish, and I wouldn’t be the last runner on the course.  That took care of my second concern.  I would try to break four hours, but it wouldn’t be a big deal if I took a little longer.

My last concern was the weather.  When I left the house, it looked like heavy rain would arrive about the same time we were starting.  After making a bathroom stop, I checked my weather app again.  Either the storm was dissipating, or it was missing us.  At worst, we might have a few periods of light sprinkles.  As it turns out, we didn’t get any rain at all.

The path we were running on was wide enough for two runners side-by-side, but it wasn’t wide enough for a large group.  To keep the first lap from being congested, we had a staggered start.  We formed a line, and we were started a few seconds apart.  The race was chip-timed, so nobody lost any time waiting for their turn to start.

As I started running, I was on my own to establish the right pace.  I started somewhat aggressively.  Beyond that, I was scouting the course.  I had never run this loop before.

We had some periods of heavy rain on Friday and Saturday, so I was looking to see if any parts of the course were flooded.  I saw one puddle, but everywhere else we had dry footing.

As advertised, the course was flat.  As for the wooden section, it was a long bridge over a marshy area.  Bridges like this always make me nervous, but it was in good condition, and I never tripped.

We didn’t all line up in the same order we would eventually finish.  Inevitably, I passed a few runners, and a few runners passed me.  By the end of the first lap, however, everything shook out.  We were spread out far enough that I was running by myself, but I could always see the runner in front of me.

I felt like I was running too fast.  When I got my split for the first mile, it was 8:15.  That confirmed my suspicion.  To break four hours, I only needed to average 9:09 per mile.  For a Boston qualifier (3:50), I needed to average 8:45.  I was 30 seconds faster than that.

After that, I eased up a bit.  My second mile was 8:40.  That was more reasonable, but it was still fast enough for a Boston qualifier.  That wasn’t my goal at the start of the day, but I decided to go for it.  If there was a hard four-hour cutoff, I would’ve paced myself more conservatively, to make sure I finished within the time limit.  Knowing there wasn’t a hard cutoff emboldened me to run more aggressively.  I risked blowing up, but I knew I would get a chance to finish.

Early in my third lap, another runner caught up with me.  His name was Brian.  He was in town on business and saw this race as an opportunity to run a Minnesota marathon while he was already here.  Before the race, I met another runner who said the same thing.

I asked Brian what his goal was.  It was 3:45.  That was faster than my goal, but it wasn’t completely unreasonable.  I decided to run with Brian for a while and see how it went.

Although me didn’t have rain, we still had overcast skies.  That was a blessing.  The temperature was 70 degrees, and the dew point was 66, so the humidity was high.  Fortunately, we had a nice breeze that helped counteract the humidity.  The conditions, while not ideal, were about the best I could’ve hoped for at this time of year.

Brian and I were in our fifth lap when a faster runner came up on our left.  The fastest runner was already lapping us.  That wasn’t surprising, as this is a race that’s designed to appeal to faster runners.

There were tables in the start/finish area where runners could leave bottles or other nutrition.  They also had a table with cups of water and Gatorade.  As we were finishing our sixth lap, Brian needed to stop to refill his bottle.  I went ahead on my own.

Running with Brian, my mile times were in the 8:30s.  I was planning to ease up a bit while I was waiting for him to catch up, but I kept going at the same pace.

About halfway through the next lap, two more fast runners lapped me.  Then Brian caught up to me.  I didn’t expect him to catch up so quickly.  It seemed like he was running a little faster now.  I had to work harder to keep up with him.

I was drinking Gatorade at the end of each even-numbered lap.  As I paused to drink at the end of our eighth lap, I fell behind Brian.  I wasn’t able to catch up to him.  I had to let him go and run at my own pace.  My pace wasn’t as consistent now, but most of my mile times were still in the 8:30s.

I was in my ninth lap when the lead woman lapped me.  Her name was Olivia.  Before the race, I heard her tell another runner her goal was 3:35.  It’s not surprising that she lapped me, but it was surprising that she did it so early in the race.

After 12 laps, I was half done.  I wasn’t keeping up with Brian, but I was still on pace to break 3:45.

The cups at the aid station only had about an inch of Gatorade in them.  I was more conscious of the humidity now, and I realized I wasn’t drinking enough.  In the second half of the race, I drank at the end of every lap.

During my 14th lap, I realized I was catching up with Brian, so I worked a little harder to close the gap.  When I caught up to him, I realized he was slowing down.  I ended up going ahead of him.

When I paused to drink some Gatorade at the end of that lap, Brian caught up to me again.  I eased up a bit so I could run with him.  We were less than halfway through that lap when Brian told me he was fading and I should go on ahead on my own.  My time for that mile was 8:51, which was my slowest so far.  In the next mile, I sped up to 8:45, which was the pace I needed to average for a BQ.

As I was coming to the bridge in my 16th lap, I recognized Olivia in the distance.  She was just coming off the bridge.  It was a long bridge, but I was still surprised to see her.  I though she would be much farther ahead of me by now.  Two other women had lapped me, and I didn’t see either of them, so Olivia was no longer leading the race.

In the next lap, as I got onto the bridge again, I saw Olivia was still on the bridge.  I wasn’t as far behind now.  I challenged myself to catch up to her.  I brought my pace back down into the 8:30s.

Early in my 18th lap, I saw that I was going to catch up to Olivia.  I wondered if she still expected to break 3:35.  I was still a lap behind her, but I wondered if it made sense to run with her for the rest of the race.

I was just about to catch up to Olivia when she started walking, so she could drink some water.  I passed her and continued running on my own.

After 18 laps, I was three quarters done, but it was getting more difficult.  I was feeling the humidity in a big way now.  The conditions had not changed.  They just gradually took a toll on me.  Other runners were slowing down.  So far, I was keeping up a consistent pace, but it was getting more difficult.

For two more laps, I kept up the same pace.  I had built up a cushion, and I wondered if I was going to give it back now.

The race director had a PA system.  Whenever someone finished a lap, he announced their name, how many laps they completed, and their time for the lap they had just finished.  When I finished my 20th lap, my time for that lap was 9:29.  To stay on pace for a Boston qualifier, I needed to average 9:35 per lap.  With four laps to go, I just needed to average 10:15 per lap the rest of the way.

At this point, I began to slow down.  My split for mile 22 was 8:54.  The next mile was 9:04.  In lap 22, I felt like I was running out of gas, but I fought to keep from slowing down too much.  As I neared the end of that lap, I saw that I sped up to 9:02.  That was reassuring.

As I started my 23rd lap, it occurred to me that I just had 2.2 miles to go.  I was fading, but I was pretty sure I could keep it together for 2.2 miles.  I might slow down, but I would still break 3:50.

I fought hard to keep up my effort for another lap.  If I could hold pace for one more lap, I would have room to slow down in the last lap.

In mile 25, I slowed to 9:13.  That wasn’t too bad.  As I finished lap 23, I checked my time.  To break 3:50, I needed to run my final lap in 12:08.  So far, all my lap times had been under 10 minutes.

I could afford to average almost 11 minutes per mile in that last lap.  The scary thing is that I often run as slowly as that in summer training runs.  If I allowed myself to slow to a pace that felt comfortable, it might not be fast enough.  I had to force myself to keep up my effort for one more lap.  I knew I could do it, but it wasn’t going to feel good.

I only slowed down by a few seconds in my last lap.  I finished the race in 3:47:46.

Immediately after I finished, one of the volunteers handed me a bottle of water and a bottle of Gatorade.  I don’t usually feel like drinking after a race, but I knew I would need both of them.  I also drank a cup of Gatorade from the aid station.

They had the same medals for both races, but marathon runners also received a pin that said “Marathon.”

I was also handed another pin.  There were awards to the top three men and women overall, the top master (over 40), the top grandmaster (over 50), the top senior grandmaster (over 60), plus age group awards.  I expected to win the senior grandmasters division.  I was surprised to find out that I was third overall.

When I got back to my car, my clothes were soaked, and I was still sweating profusely.  Sweat from my forehead was dripping into my eyes, making them sting.  I really could have used a towel, but I didn’t think to bring one.  Four hours after getting home, I was still working to get rehydrated.

This race took a lot out of me, but I couldn’t be happier with my result.  I originally just wanted another marathon to bridge the gap between two marathons that were seven weeks apart.  I would’ve been content to run it like a training run.  Instead, I got a BQ and a third-place finish.

Race statistics:

Distance:  26.2 miles

Time:  3:47:46

Average Pace:  8:41 per mile

First Half:  1:52:20

Second Half:  1:55:26

Marathons/Ultras in 2025:  25

Lifetime Marathons/Ultras:  560

Minnesota Marathons/Ultras:  114

Boston Qualifiers:  180