Twelve years ago, I completed a long-term goal to qualify for the Boston Marathon in every state. At the time, I was running qualifying times so consistently that one of my friends started calling me “Mr. BQ.”
Since then, I’ve hit a
few bumps in the road. I had groin
injuries, tendinopathy, pulled hamstrings, a broken rib, a back surgery, a knee
injury, and a few bouts of sciatica. It’s
hard to stay in shape when you can’t train consistently. I managed to qualify at least once a year,
but there were some years when I only qualified once.
I’ve stayed healthy
enough for the past three years to keep up a good training base. For the last a year and a half, I’ve been
qualifying for Boston consistently again.
A few months ago, I
started to wonder how close I was to completing a second circuit of BQs in
every state. I knew I had at least 40
states. My best guess was that there
were only eight or nine states where I had not yet qualified for a second time.
When I checked my
records, I found out that I was closer than I thought. I just needed six states to complete a second
circuit of BQs. One of those states was
South Carolina.
As I started planning my race
schedule for 2026, one of the races I considered was the Myrtle Beach Marathon,
which has a nice flat course.
Unfortunately, the airfare was outrageously expensive. Then I looked at the Daufuskie Island
Marathon.
I’ve run this race
before, so I was familiar with the course and the logistics. The first time I ran it, I wasn’t in shape,
but my recollection was that the course was fairly flat. It seemed like a race where I could BQ with a
good effort.
There aren’t any roads
onto the island. To get there, you need
to take a ferry from Hilton Head Island.
Last time, I stayed in a hotel on Hilton Head Island, and I took the ferry
on the morning of the race.
When I priced flights, I
saw that I could get a direct flight to Savannah for a reasonable airfare. From the Savannah airport, it takes about an
hour to drive to Hilton Head Island. If
all went well, I could get there in the late afternoon.
When I’m traveling by
myself to a race in the U.S., I typically arrive the day before the race. For this race, I made an exception. You never know when a winter storm will hit,
and I didn’t want to risk a significant flight delay.
Thursday, January 15
The race was on Saturday,
so I flew to Savannah on Thursday. I’ve
been to Hilton Head Island twice before, so instead of spending three nights
there, decided to spend the first night in Savannah.
I found a hotel near the
downtown area that was surprisingly affordable.
I could walk to any of the downtown restaurants, but my room rate was
only $97. The only catch was that I had
to pay for parking.
After checking in at my
hotel, I spent the rest of the afternoon walking around the waterfront. I was surprised how cold it was. It couldn’t have been any warmer than 40
degrees, and the wind made it feel much colder.
I found myself ducking into shops just to get out of the wind.
When I got tired of being
out in the cold wind, I had an early dinner at a seafood restaurant on the
waterfront.
Friday, January 16
When I got up, I checked
my weather app. I was shocked to see
that it was only 25 degrees. It was
colder in Savannah than it was in Minneapolis.
After breakfast, I did a
weight training workout. While doing a
set of push-ups, I felt like I tweaked something in my upper back. It wasn’t a big deal at the time, but it would
bother me later.
I didn’t need to be in
any rush to get to Hilton Head Island, so I had a relaxing morning at my hotel in
Savannah, and I didn’t head to Hilton Head Island until after lunch.
After stopping to check
in at my hotel on Hilton Head Island, I continued to Palmetto Running Company
to pick up my race packet. The race
shirt was a long sleeve, half zip turtleneck.
This is a cupless race, so my race packet also included a reusable cup
to take with me during the race. It was
a different style than the cup they gave me last time. This one was lighter and easier to carry.
I had an early dinner and
went to bed early, in anticipation of an early morning on race day.
I slept well for a few
hours. Then I got up to go to the
bathroom. When I went back to bed, I
couldn’t get comfortable. I felt that
muscle in my upper back. After that, I
was awake for most of the night.
Saturday, January 17
Saturday was race day. I was up earlier than I planned, which gave
me time for a long shower. The warm
water helped soothe my upper back and neck.
It was 36 degrees on
Hilton Head Island, and I assumed the temperature was similar on Daufuskie
Island. I expected it to warm into the
upper 40s by the time the race started, but I still opted to wear tights.
I had to leave early to
take a ferry to Daufuskie Island. I knew
from past experience that the parking lots near the ferry terminal fill up
fast. If I didn’t want to park a mile
away, I needed to get there by 5:30 AM.
I got a grab-and-go
breakfast from my hotel. I parked as
close as I could to the ferry terminal.
I ate my breakfast while I was waiting for the ferry to load. The first ferry of the day left at 6:00, but
that was reserved for race volunteers. I
was on the next ferry, which started loading as soon as the first one left.
It was chilly in the
morning, so I wore extra layers. I
needed them when I got to Daufuskie Island.
The marathon didn’t start until 8:30, so I was waiting for the better
part of two hours.
They had tables and
chairs set up under a huge canopy. I was
expecting it to be heated, but they had a problem with their electrical system,
so there was no heat. It also took a
while before they had hot water.
After a while, they
started some small bonfires, so we could gather around them to get warm. They also told us we could go inside the
mansion. About an hour before the race,
I moved indoors. I stayed there until it
was time to check my gear bag and make my final bathroom stop.
The course was a
13.1-mile loop that we ran twice. There
were sections of paved road, sections of dirt road, and sections of paved paths
that were mostly used for golf carts. I
was racing for time, so I didn’t take any pictures during the race. If you want to see what the course looks
like, my race report from 2022 has pictures:
2022 Daufuskie Island Marathon
To qualify for Boston, I
needed to finish in 4:05. Ideally, I
wanted to break four hours, but the important thing was to get the BQ. That’s what I came here for.
The first challenge was
establishing a fast enough pace in the first mile. They didn’t have pace groups, so I was on my
own to find the right pace.
We started out on a brick
surface, so I had to watch my footing.
It was also congested for the first minute or so, which made it harder
to start at a fast pace.
We quickly got onto
smooth pavement. I had more room to run
now, so I accelerated until the pace had me breathing somewhat hard. Then I maintained the same effort until I got
my first split.
To break four hours, I
needed an average pace of 9:09 per mile.
I ran the first mile in 8:20, which is way too fast.
In the next mile, I eased
up a little, but not enough. I was no
longer keeping up with the runners around me, but nobody else seemed to be
passing me. That mile was a little slower,
but still too fast.
Halfway through the third
mile, we came to a junction where an aid station was set up. We would pass through this same junction
three times on each lap. There were
volunteers holding pitchers of water and an electrolyte drink. I stopped long enough for a volunteer to fill
my reusable cup. I walked while I drank,
and then worked to get back up to speed.
This was the drill at
every aid station. Because I had to stop
briefly to have my cup filled, I always lost a little time at the aid stations.
After turning right at
this junction, I started a loop that would eventually lead me back to the same
aid station. I was almost to the end of
the third mile, when I reached the first section of dirt road.
As soon as I got there, I
could see the footprints of the runners who got there ahead of me. This section of road was mostly sand, and the
top half inch or so was soft. I didn’t
remember this road being this soft when I ran this race before. Maybe they had some recent rain, and the road
was firmer. This year, it was dry sand.
Running on this surface
was tiring. I worked harder in an
attempt to keep from slowing down too much.
My time for mile three
was 8:48, which was still faster than my target pace. Most of that mile was paved. The next mile would be all on the sandy road,
so I knew it would be slower.
The next mile took me
9:11. That wasn’t bad. It was only a couple of seconds slower than
my target pace. Unfortunately, running
at that pace through the sand was tiring me out.
The next mile started out
on sand, but before the end of that mile, I got back onto pavement. That immediately felt easier. I worked hard to re-establish my previous
pace. I was able to bring my pace back
under nine minutes per mile, but I was working way too hard. I felt much more tired than I should after
only five miles.
Since the first mile, I
had been slowly falling behind the runners around me. Each mile, a few more passed me. In mile six, I finally started to keep pace
with the runners ahead of me.
By now, I had gone
through the aid station again, and I was beginning another loop that would
eventually bring me back again. After
about two miles on pavement, I reached another section of dirt road.
This section wasn’t
sandy. It was gravel. It was a much firmer surface, but it was
peppered with small rocks, making it somewhat uncomfortable. At one point, I tripped on a rock, and I was
momentarily thrown off balance. I didn’t
fall, but it disrupted my momentum. It
also scared me a little.
I saw a canopy and a
table with cups of water. I dumped water
from one of the cups into my own cup, so I wouldn’t waste a cup. I’m pretty sure this was an unofficial aid
station set up by some local residents.
They also had pickle juice.
In my first full mile on
the gravel road, I slowed to 9:10. That
was similar to my pace on the sandy road, but it didn’t tire me out the same
way.
By the nine-mile mark, I
was back on pavement. I was able to
bring my pace down close to nine minutes, but no faster. From here on out, the pace took more effort.
After going through the
main aid station for the third time, I turned to head back toward the north end
of the island. Coming back, we took a
much longer route.
In mile 11, we ran
through a neighborhood with houses that were probably built in the 1800s. Then we crossed two small bridges over
streams. As I finished crossing the
first bridge, I caught one of my feet on some type of seam. I kept my balance, but it scared me again.
On the second bridge, I
was more mindful of the seams. What I
wasn’t watching for were the screws that held the boards in place. Most of them weren’t flush with the
wood. The screw heads stuck out just
enough that you could catch a shoe on them.
Once again, I stumbled, but didn’t fall.
I had been wearing gloves
since the start of the race. I didn’t
feel like I needed them anymore, so I took them off and stuffed them into my
fanny pack.
With about two miles left
in the first lap, I crossed a longer bridge over a marshy area. This bridge took us to a paved path that
followed the shoreline. On this bridge,
I was so cautious that I couldn’t help but slow down. When I got back on pavement, I worked hard to
pick up my pace again.
The pavement was soon
replaced by a gravel path. This was a much
nicer surface. It was probably crushed
limestone. I didn’t have any trouble
with this section.
There was one other aid
station on the course. When I got there,
one of the volunteers recognized me. We
met on the ferry. She recognized my
jacket, even though it was tied around my waist.
For the rest of that lap,
I kept up a pace that was slightly faster than the pace I needed. It took much more effort now. I didn’t know how I would hold up in the
second lap. I was already much too
tired.
Ideally, I should have
run the first lap in two hours. I was a
little faster than 1:57. I was more than
three minutes ahead of schedule. I knew
I would regret that in the second half. My average pace so far was about 15
seconds per mile too fast.
The good news is that I
could now afford to run 15 seconds slower than my target pace in the second
half. The bad news is that I probably
would, just because I was already tired.
As I started my second
lap, I worked hard to keep from giving back time before I reached the sandy
section. In miles 14-16, I stayed pretty
close to my target pace. I wasn’t giving
back any time … yet.
There was a half marathon
that started an hour after the marathon.
By the time I reached the sandy section for the second time, all the
half marathon runners had already been though there. The faster marathon runners had been through
here twice already. That just made the
road even softer. In addition to being
soft, it was now an uneven surface.
At first, I picked up my
effort to keep from slowing down too much.
That quickly proved to be too tiring.
I had to accept that this mile would be slow. I eased back to an effort that wouldn’t break
me.
In mile 17, I was 30
seconds slower than my target pace. Mile
18 was also about 30 seconds slower, even though that mile finished on
pavement. The good news is that I was
done with the most tiring section, and I was still two minutes ahead of
schedule.
I caught up to two
runners who had been a short distance ahead of me through the sandy
section. They were alternating running
with short walking breaks. I asked them
if they had a time they were targeting.
They said they wanted to break four hours. I said, “Me too.” Then I added that we were two minutes ahead
of schedule. With eight miles to go, we
could now afford to be 15 seconds slower per mile the rest of the way. They took another walking break, and I ran
ahead of them. I never saw them again.
By now I had started
passing people at the back of the half marathon who were walking. That made it harder to see the next runner
ahead of me. I eventually spotted a
runner who I could follow, but they were at least a quarter mile ahead. It was hard to gauge if I was going at the
same pace.
I was expecting to get
hot in the second lap. According to the
hourly forecast, the temperature was going to climb into the upper 50s. I expected to get hot wearing tights, but I
didn’t. It was cloudy, and we had a
light breeze. At times, my hands got
cold.
In mile 19, I was about
15 minutes slower than my target pace. I
could afford that, but it was scary. At
this pace, I would be cutting it close.
Also, I doubted that I could sustain this effort all the way to the
finish.
When you’re running near
your limit, there comes a time when you have to ask yourself how badly you want
it. My primary goal was to get a Boston
qualifier. For that, I just needed to
break 4:05. At this point, I could do
that just by averaging 10 minutes per mile the rest of the way. I felt like that was in the bag,
The question was how deep
I was willing to dig to stay on pace to break four hours. I expected it to be a fight all the way to
the finish, and I wasn’t confident I could do it. I continued to fight for it.
In mile 20, I didn’t give
back any time. With 6.2 miles to go, I
still had a cushion of roughly 1:45.
Then I reached the gravel road for the second time.
This time, I didn’t take
the time to stop at the unofficial aid station.
I couldn’t afford it, and I was pretty sure I was getting enough to
drink. I wasn’t as hot as I thought I
would be.
This section had much
better traction than the sand, but it still wasn’t as efficient as running on
pavement. I fought hard to maintain my
pace, but I gave back 20 seconds in mile 21.
I also gave back about 20 seconds in mile 22, even though part of that
was back on pavement.
I was now through the
toughest parts of the course. The only
sections likely to slow me down were the bridges. I had just over four miles to go, and I had a
cushion of one minute.
After stopping at the aid
station again, I fought hard to get back on pace. I knew I couldn’t make up the lost time. I didn’t know if I could speed up, but I was
disappointed to see that I slowed down, even though that mile was all on
pavement. In one mile, I lost 30
seconds. With more than three miles to
go, my cushion was only about 30 seconds.
I could see the
handwriting on the wall, but I didn’t give up.
I kept trying to pick up the pace, but then I would feel myself slowing
down again. The last straw was when I
reached the two short bridges over the streams.
I didn’t trip on either bridge, but they slowed me down. I couldn’t keep up the same pace while trying
to be cautious.
In mile 24, I gave back
another 30 seconds. Now, I essentially
had no cushion. I didn’t know how much I
could trust my watch to give me an accurate distance, so I double-checked when
I saw the 11-mile sign from the first lap.
From there, I knew it was 2.1 miles to go.
My time with 2.1 miles to
go confirmed that I was right on pace, but with no cushion. All of my recent miles, however, were too
slow, and I had no expectation that I would be able to speed up again. I still tried. I wasn’t ready to give up yet.
On the long bridge
leading out to the shoreline, I had the same experience that I had on the other
bridges. I got across safely, but my
caution was costing me time.
When I reached the last
aid station, I didn’t stop. I couldn’t
afford the time, and I was confident I was drinking enough. I didn’t have far to go.
I reached 25 before I
knew it, but it was bad news. I gave
back another 30 seconds. With 1.2 miles
to go, I was now almost 30 seconds behind schedule.
That took the wind out of
my sails. I knew a four-hour finish was
no longer possible. I didn’t
deliberately slow down, but I was no longer fighting as hard. Now, I just wanted to finish.
Mile 26 was my slowest of
the race. I was getting close to the
finish, but I still couldn’t see it.
There were still three more turns.
I ran harder from there, but it was too little, too late.
I finished the race in
4:01:10. I didn’t break four hours, but
I did get my second BQ for South Carolina.
I’m now just five states away from completing two BQs in every state.
The finisher medal was a
sea turtle. There was also a sea turtle
on the race shirt. It’s pretty much the
logo for this race.
It was 12:31 PM. The next ferry was scheduled to depart at
12:40. I decided to skip the post-race
food and beer and try to catch the next ferry.
I had to retrieve my gear
bag. Not knowing when I would get
another chance to go to the bathroom, I also made a quick stop at a
port-o-potty. Then I ran, as best I
could, to catch the ferry.
I got there before 12:40,
and I got in line to board. There was
already a long line. The ferry can only
hold 100 passengers, and I wasn’t sure if there were already 100 people in line
in front of me.
Fifteen minutes later, we
were still waiting. Then I learned from
the person in front of me that the 12:40 ferry filled so quickly that it left
10 minutes early. We were now waiting
for the next ferry.
The next scheduled ferry
was at 1:40, but we could see another ferry already coming. The people who run the ferries apparently
realized that there were too many people already waiting. After a wait of about 30 minutes, we started
boarding the next ferry.
While I was waiting, I
put on all my warm-up clothes. That kept
me warm enough, but I got stiff after standing for so long. When the line started moving, walking was
painful.
I got on the next ferry,
but all the indoor seating was taken. I
had to go upstairs and sit outside. It’s
much colder on the water than it is on land.
It took about 40 minutes to get back to Hilton Head Island. By the time we got there, my hands were numb,
even though I was wearing gloves.
I had a long walk back to
my car, followed by a 15-minute drive back to my hotel. I had the heat vents aimed at my hands, but
they still felt tingly when I got back to the hotel. It took a long hot shower to warm me up
again.
Because I skipped the
post-race food, I was starving. There
was a post-race party at 5:00, but I couldn’t wait that long. I went to dinner at 3:30. Then I went to the party from there.
I don’t have any regrets
about rushing to catch the next ferry after the race. At the party, I talked to runners who waited
in line for two hours. Getting in line
when I did may have been my best decision of the day.
Sunday, January 18
I got a good night’s
sleep, but I still felt like a train wreck the next morning. When I went down to breakfast another runner
said, “Aren’t you glad we didn’t have today’s weather for the race?” On Sunday, it rained all morning. Standing outside in a cold rain to wait for
the ferry would have been miserable.
It was still raining when
I drove back to Savannah to fly home.
The most direct route goes through low-lying areas that can flood. I took a longer route, to be on the safe
side.
No comments:
Post a Comment