I Finally Understand Why I'm Feeling So Sluggish.

For the past few months, I’ve been feeling sluggish and having poor race results.  I’m finally starting to understand why.

I first noticed a drop-off in my race performance earlier in the year.  In most races, my goal is to run a Boston-qualifying time.  In early 2025, the time I needed to beat was 3:50, and I was doing that consistently.

Later in the year, I had moved into a new age group.  I only need to beat 4:05, but I still tried to run faster if I could.  I was consistently running times in the 3:50s, and on a good day I could get into the 3:40s.

By the beginning of this year, I was still running qualifying times, but I could no longer get under four hours.  The only time this year that I’ve broken four hours was at the Mt. Charleston Marathon, which has more than 5,000 feet of net descent.  On a course like that, I expect to be 20 minutes faster.

In March, I had my annual follow-up with my cardiologist.  A year earlier I learned that I not only had high cholesterol, but I had more arterial plaque than more than 90 percent of other men my age.

I mentioned my drop-off in performance to my cardiologist.  I wondered if I wasn’t getting blood to my muscles as efficiently because of all that arterial plaque.  She said it doesn’t work that way.  If I was slowing down, it was either my training or just the result of getting older.

Just to be on the safe side, she ordered a stress echocardiogram.  It showed no abnormalities.  All my images looked normal, and my vital signs were normal.  That was at the end of March.

Since then, my performance has dropped off dramatically, and I’ve sometimes felt tired just doing normal daily activities, like walking up stairs.

It started with the Albuquerque Marathon.  I was hoping to get my second BQ in New Mexico.  The elevation in Albuquerque is about 5,000 feet.  I expect to be at least five minutes slower at that elevation, so I knew I would need a good race.

I started out on pace, but I was intensely out of breath.  It didn’t feel like I was at 5,000 feet.  I felt more like I would expect to feel at 8,000 feet.  I held the pace for eight or nine miles, but then I had to give up on a BQ.  After that, the rest of my race was like train wreck in slow motion.

My next race was in Newport, RI.  That’s at sea level, but it’s a hilly course.  I was hoping to finish in four hours, so I could quickly get on the road to drive to Boston.  I started with the 4:00 pace group, but I fell behind on the first hill.  I caught up on the downhill, but I had the same experience on every hill.

After about five miles of repeatedly falling behind on hills and catching up later, I finally couldn’t catch up again.  I ran the rest of the race on my own pace.

Later in the race, on another hilly section, I had to start taking walking breaks on the hills.  I was blowing up badly.  I eventually finished in 4:40.

Two days later, I ran the Boston Marathon.  After blowing up in Newport, I knew that race would be slow, but I was still surprised how slow I was.  It was my slowest Boston Marathon ever.  It was slower than the year I race-walked the whole way, and it was slower than the year that I had only six weeks of training.

My next race was the Flying Pig Marathon in Cincinnati.  I had two weeks to recover from Newport and Boston, and that’s usually enough.

This was another goal race for me.  I was hoping to get my second BQ in Ohio.  The course is somewhat hilly, but the hills all come in the first half of the race, when I would still be fresh.  I’ve qualified for Boston on this course before, so I knew it was possible with a good race.

Early in the race there are a few bridges.  Those were tiring, but I was staying on pace.  The toughest section was a long hill between the downtown area and the zoo.  I knew I would fall off the pace on this section, but I was hoping I could make it up later.  I lost too much time.  By the time I finally crested the hill, I knew a BQ wasn’t happening.

Near the halfway point, the 4:10 pace group caught up to me.  I ran with them for a few miles, but that pace was still too fast for me.  I dropped back and slowed down, eventually finishing in 4:32.  Earlier in the year I was disappointed that I couldn’t break four hours.  Just a few months later, I was 30 minutes slower.

It got much worse.  My next race was the night Marathon in Luxembourg.  That race has a tough uphill section later in the race, but I was struggling long before I got there.  Even on smaller hills, I needed to take walking breaks.  In that race, I couldn’t even break five hours.

Since then, my races have all been on difficult courses or in hot conditions, so I expected to be slow.  Still, my results have been somewhat alarming.  At the Icefjord Midnight Marathon in Greenland, I needed almost all of the seven-hour time limit.  I was the last official finisher.  It was the first time I ever finished last in a marathon.

In the Jackal Marathons, I was always one of the last finishers.  There were never more than two people finishing behind me.

It’s not just my races that have been slow.  My training runs have been really sluggish.  I start a run feeling like I’m running at a somewhat spirited pace.  Then I see my first split, and it’s much slower than I was expecting.

I’m not a young man any more.  I know my days of effortlessly running an eight-minute pace are over.  Still, there’s something wrong when I’m putting in the same effort and my pace is slower than 12 minutes.  That's not run/walk.  That's my running pace.

I feel like I’m totally out of shape.  I’ve kept up my training, yet every run feels like it’s my first run in six months.

I’m still doing the same strength training exercises that I’ve done for the last few years.  When I run a marathon, I don’t get sore muscles, nor do I feel sore the next day.  The leg strength is there.  I just get tired.

A while back, I was talking with one of my sisters.  She asked me if I’ve been tested for anemia.  At the time, I didn’t think that was likely to be my problem.

More than a year ago, I switched to a Mediterranean diet.  I rarely eat red meat now, and that’s one of the best sources of iron.  I eat a lot of salads with spinach, and that’s one of the better plant-based sources of iron.  I take a daily multivitamin, and I assumed that had some iron.  When I discovered my multi didn’t have any iron, I decided it was finally time to see a doctor.  I didn’t know if was anemia, but I felt like there had to be a medical reason.  The rapid drop-off in my cardiovascular fitness couldn’t be fully explained by aging or any recent change in training.

I had a doctor appointment yesterday.  After discussing my symptoms and my medical history, the doctor ordered several lab tests.  The first result to come back was the blood counts.  My red blood cell count, hemoglobin, and hematocrit were all low.  My ferratin was also low.  Those are all indicators of anemia.  My blood just isn’t carrying as much oxygen as it should.  That completely explains my poor race performances and how sluggish I’ve been feeling.  It’s a real relief to know that there’s a medical explanation.

All of my other test results were normal.  One mystery was solved, but the next question is why I’m anemic.

I’m hoping my anemia is just a result of not getting enough iron in my diet.  It’s also possible I’m not eating the right foods for iron to be absorbed well.  If it’s just a nutritional issue, that would be the best-case scenario.

The worst case is that my anemia is a secondary symptom of some other underlying medical condition.  One possible cause could be colon cancer, so I need to have a colonoscopy.  The earliest I could get an appointment was August, so I won’t know any more until then.

In the meantime, I’ll be taking an iron supplement.