Race Report: 2026 Boston Marathon

My previous post was a race report for the Newport Rhode Races Marathon.  This post picks up where that one left off.

Saturday, April 18

After driving from Newport and returning my rental car, I walked across the street to the Hilton Park Plaza Hotel, where I stayed for the next three nights in Boston.

On marathon weekend, it’s tough to find a room at any of the hotels that are close to the finish line.  I was able to get a room at this hotel by booking through a travel company called Fit 4 Adventure.  I learned about them from a friend in the Boston Squeakers group.  They always have a large block of rooms at this hotel.

Hilton has a loyalty program called HHonors.  Because I booked through a third party, my reservation didn’t include my HHonors number.   When I gave my number to the guy at the front desk, he saw that I have Diamond status with Hilton, and he immediately gave me two water bottles and asked if I wanted a chocolate chip cookie.  He was then apologetic that there weren’t any larger rooms available.  The room I booked was the smallest type of room.  He wanted to upgrade me to something larger, but nothing was available.

The important thing to me was getting into a room right away.  I had driven from Newport in the same clothes I wore for my marathon that morning.  After two hours driving in sweaty running clothes, I was eager to take a shower and change into clean clothes.

When I was ready to venture out, I stopped by the Fit 4 Adventure desk to check in with them.  Besides hotel rooms, their package included several options, such as a pre-race pasta dinner, city tours, bus transportation to the start of the marathon, or post-race massages.  I didn’t book any of those things, but they gave me one of their T-shirts.

Boston Marathon weekend is always a social occasion.  On Saturday afternoon, I always go to a meet-up of Boston Squeakers.  We met for a couple hours at Time Out Market, which is near Fenway Park.  Going there, the trains were crowded, because most of the people on the trains were on their way to a Red Sox game.  After our meet-up, a few of us went to dinner together.

Sunday, April 19

I know a few good breakfast spots in Boston, but it was drizzly, so I ate breakfast in the hotel’s restaurant.

Sunday was the last day I could pick up my race packet.  As usual, the expo was held at the Hynes Convention Center.  Lines can be long, so I made a point of getting there when they opened for the day.  There was a long line to get into the building, but the line moved fast.

Once inside, there were different routes through the building depending on which wave you were in, or if you were just there to attend the expo.  It was a lot of walking, but the packet pickup process was efficient.

I didn’t spend a lot of time at the expo, but I made a point of stopping by the Marathon Tours & Travel booth.  I learned about a couple of new tours that are in the works for next year.

When I left the expo, it was starting to rain again.  I went back to the hotel and did a strength training workout.  There’s large fitness center under the hotel, and hotel guests can use it.

The finish line is always a popular place for people to meet and take pictures.  Marathon Maniacs always has a group photo in front of the finish line at noon on Sunday.  When I left the hotel to go to the finish line, I was pleased to see that the rain had stopped.

After that group photo, I was talking with friends until it was time for another group photo with the Boston Squeakers.

It was starting to rain again, so I found a nearby place where I could get a bowl of clam chowder.

The other group I always meet with on Sunday is the 50sub4 Marathon Club.  They also meet at Time Out Market.  I saw several familiar faces there, and I also met a few new ones.

For dinner, I went to Night Shift Brewing at Lovejoy Wharf.  They have Detroit-style pizza.  This has become my favorite pizza place in Boston.

All day I had been finding walking around town to be uncomfortable.  My feet were sore, and my Achilles tendons were tight.  I tried to stay off my feet, often taking the “T” instead of walking, even if it was only for one stop.  In spite of that, I still put in about 11,000 steps on Sunday.

Monday, April 20

Monday was race day.  For the last several years, I’ve been getting to the start in Hopkinton on a motorcoach chartered by Marathon Maniacs.  The bus loads right outside the Hilton Park Plaza, which is why it was so convenient to stay there.

The race has several waves, with start times ranging from 10:00 to 11:21 AM.  I was in one of the later waves, but we all needed to be ready to leave Boston at the same time.  The buses started loading at 6:15, and they left at 6:45.

It was a chilly day.  When I boarded the bus, the temperature was in the 30s.  My wave didn’t start until 11:01, and by then the temperature would climb into the 40s.  I don’t think it ever got up to 50.  It was also quite windy.  In conditions like these, I wear tights.  This was a day to wear the cheetah outfit.

The bus ride to Hopkinton took about an hour.  After we got there, I had about two hours before I needed to leave to walk to the start.  That’s a long wait, but we were able to stay on the bus in relative comfort.

Most people get to Hopkinton on school buses that pick them up at Boston Common and drop them off at the Athletes’ Village at Hopkinton High School.  They wait outside, rain or shine, until it’s time to walk to the start corrals.  There are hundreds of port-o-potties in the Athletes’ Village, but with tens of thousands of runners, the lines get long.

Club buses like ours park about a quarter mile away at Edward J. Hopkins Elementary School.  We had a few dozen port-o-potties, but there were far fewer runners at the elementary school, so the lines were short.  There was also a bathroom on the bus.

For the last several years, the race has been divided into four waves of roughly equal size.  This year, there were more waves, with fewer runners in each wave.  There were six waves, not counting the earlier starts for elite athletes and athletes with disabilities.

I was assigned to wave five, which was the last wave of time qualifiers.  The sixth wave included runners who got into the race through some other method, such as a tour group, a sponsor, or a charity.

At the appropriate time, those of us in wave five left the elementary school to walk to the Athletes’ Village at the high school.  From there, we had to walk about a mile to get to the start corrals.

In the past, everyone followed the same route to get from the Athletes’ Village to the start corral.  This year, they had two different routes, depending on which corral you were in.  Runners in corrals 1-4 of each wave took the new route along Church Street.  Runners in corrals 5-8 took the traditional route along Grove Street.  I assume they did this so we could get to the appropriate start corral quicker and with less congestion.

Each route went past a parking lot with additional port-o-potties, so we could make a last-minute bathroom stop on our way to the corrals.  I was in the corral three, so I was taking a different route this year.

My friend Jolene, who was on the same bus, was also in corral three, so we walking to the start corrals together.

After my race on Saturday, I felt like a train wreck.  I wasn’t even going to try to run at a fast pace in Boston.  Instead of starting the race with a time goal, I planned to go at a slow pace and stop to take pictures.

The start is sharply downhill.  I didn’t try to race it, but the downhill start made it easy to get started.  I wasn’t going as fast as the runners around me, so I was getting passed by most of the other runners.

Right at the one-kilometer mark, the road briefly turns uphill.  I was tempted to walk this hill, but I didn’t want to be the only one walking.  I ran it, but I slowed down significantly.  Even still, it was tiring.  Everyone was passing me on this hill.

Mile two was similar.  It’s mostly downhill, but there’s a brief uphill section.  Again, I took the uphill section slowly, but it still felt tiring.

My pace for the first two miles was faster than 10 minutes, but only because they were downhill.  Starting with mile three, my pace was between 10 and 11 minutes.

My cheetah outfit made me easy to spot.  A few friends who started farther back greeted me as they went by.  First, it was Kristen, then Erin, and then Jeff.  I also got shoutouts from random strangers.  A few people told me I had the best outfit.

The next several miles had a gentle downhill trend, but they were closer to being level.  I did my best to run a pace that wouldn’t tire me out, although I was tired anyway.  I felt like this race was just a continuation of the race I ran on Saturday.  I had no energy at all.

The weather was fickle.  It was mostly cloudy, with a strong wind that was mostly at our backs.  Occasionally, the sun would come out, and I would briefly feel warm.  At other times, there would be a strong wind gust, and I would get cold.  A few times, I felt raindrops.  Fortunately, there was never any persistent rain.  Cool weather with a tailwind is something people dream of at this race.  It’s the first time since 2011 that it’s happened.

I never noticed this before, but every one of the early miles has a brief uphill section, even though the overall trend is downhill.  I found myself getting tired on every small rise, even though I wasn’t trying to maintain my pace.

In mile six, my pace slowed to 11 minutes.  I had expected my overall time to be slower than it was on Saturday.  Now I knew for sure.

In mile eight, I finally decided to walk an uphill section.  There’s a guy who always watches the race dressed as Santa Claus.  Since I was walking already, I took my phone out to take a picture of him.

To use my phone, I had to take off one of my gloves.  In the short time my glove was off, my fingers started to turn white.  Because of that, I didn’t take as many pictures as I had planned to take.

The runners in my wave all had race bibs with green backgrounds.  By now, I started to notice that I was surrounded by runners with orange race bibs.  Those were runners from the last wave.  They started about 20 minutes later, but the faster runners from that wave had caught up to me by now.

I was drinking at every aid station.  Starting with mile two, they had aid stations every mile.  It was a cool enough day that I didn’t need to be drinking that much.  After nine miles, I made a bathroom stop.  After that, I cut back to only drinking every other mile.

In mile 12, I needed to take another walking break on a short hill.  Then, in the next mile, I reached Wellesley College.  I chose to walk all the way through the Wellesley “scream tunnel” so I could take pictures of the signs.

That mile took more than 12 minutes, but it included a long walking break.  Then I ran the rest of the way to downtown Wellesley.

I reached the halfway point in 2:26:20.  That was already 20 minutes slower than my last race, and I knew I would only get slower in the second half.  For the past three years, I managed to run negative splits on this course, but that’s hard to do.  The first half is much easier than the second half.  This year I was struggling, so I knew I’d slow down on the tougher sections.

In mile 14, I brought my pace back down under 12 minutes.  As I started mile 14, I noticed a change in my gait.  I was still running, but it was more of a shuffle.  It felt like it was somewhere between running and walking.

Sure enough, mile 15 was slower.  That mile was slightly downhill, and I didn’t take any walking breaks, yet it was slower than 12 minutes.

Halfway through mile 16, I reached a half mile section that’s sharply downhill.  That enabled me to bring my pace back down, but only temporarily.

At the end of that mile, I crossed the Charles River and entered Newton.  This is where the race gets tough.  There are four noticeable hills in Newton.  In the past, I’ve taken pride in being able to run strong on these hills.  This time, I needed to take walking breaks.

The first hill is the most gradual, but it’s long.  I didn’t think I could run the whole thing, but it’s too long for me to walk all the way.  There’s an aid station right at the beginning of this hill.  I slowed to a walk while drinking a cup of Gatorade.  Since I was already walking, I walked a bit farther.  Then I forced myself to run.

I could only run so far before I needed another walking break.  I paced myself up the hill by running until I needed to walk and then walking just long enough to recover.  I ended up taking five short walking breaks on that hill.

After reaching the top of that hill, I was able to run until the next one.  The next hill is at 17.5 miles.  It starts right where we make a right turn in front of a fire station.  This hill isn’t as long, but it’s steeper.

The hill started out gradual, so I ran until the grade got more tiring.  Then I walked the rest of the hill.  It was longer than I remembered.  Perhaps it just seems longer when you’re walking it, because it takes so much longer.

Because I walked so much on the hills, miles 17 and 18 both took more than 13 minutes.  Mile 19 was mostly downhill, and I was able to bring my pace back down, although it was still slower than 11 minutes.

The next mile had another hill, but it’s the easiest of the four hills in Newton.  I had hoped to run it, but I still needed to take a walking break.

When I reached the 20-mile mark, I was almost to the beginning of Heartbreak Hill.  On this hill, I needed to take multiple walking breaks again.

After heartbreak hill, there’s a short downhill section, followed by one last uptick in the road.  I had to walk that too.

I was almost to the 21-mile mark.  Now, I was at the beginning of a long downhill section that took me past Boston College.  As long as it was downhill, I could force myself to run.  The next time the road leveled off, I had to start taking walking breaks.  Not counting the “scream tunnel,” this was the first time I had to walk on a section that wasn’t uphill.

I ran the downhill sections, and I did a run/walk mix on the flat sections.  I was past all the major hills, but I was out of gas.

Between 22 and 23 miles, I made the left turn at Cleveland Circle.  There are multiple sets of train tracks in the street, so I always have to watch my footing carefully there.

After that turn, I focused on intermediate goals.  The first one was reaching the banner where we leave Boston to enter Brookline.  Next, I focused on getting to the 23-mile mark.

I did a time check at 23 miles.  This is where I realized for the first time that I would be slower this year than I was in 2016.  That was hard to take.  In 2016, I didn’t run at all in January and February, because of injuries.  When I started training, it was only six weeks before the Boston Marathon, and I was totally out of shape.  I managed that year to finish in about 5:08.  This year was going to be slower, even though I’m in much better shape.

The last few miles were agonizingly slow.  I was now needing to employ the same run/walk pacing on flat sections that I used previously on long hills.  I took frequent walking breaks, but I tried to keep them short, usually walking just 16 quick steps before forcing myself to run again.

At 24 miles, I made another bathroom stop.  By now, the sun had come out, and I was getting warm.  While I was stopped, I took my gloves off.

It was about this same time that I got my first glimpse of the iconic Citgo sign.  Then it disappeared behind the trees.

I was back in Boston now.  In the distance, I could see a small hill.  I recognized it as the place where we come up to a bridge over the freeway.  The 40K sign is right at that bridge.  The 25-mile sign is just a bit farther.

I had to walk up to the bridge, but then I forced myself to run again.  At the 25-mile aid station, I saw my friend Mary, who was volunteering there.  She had read my previous race report, so she understood why I was struggling.  She gave me a hug and told me to finish strong.

Just past that, I reached the one mile to go sign.  Ahead of me, I could see a bridge painted with the words, “Boston Strong.”  I forced myself to run to that bridge.  From there, it’s one kilometer to go.

As I ran under that bridge, I could see the next one.  I knew from past experience I would go down a ramp to go under that bridge.  On the other side, I would need to go up a ramp.  I forced myself to run until the road turned uphill after the bridge.  Then I had to walk until the road leveled off again.

There were two more turns.  As I made the right turn onto Hereford, I knew it would be the last hill.  We only run two short blocks on Hereford, but it’s slightly uphill.  I forced myself to run the first half of it.  Then I needed to walk the second half.

When I made the left turn onto Boylston, I knew I would run the rest of the way.  I could see the finish line in the distance, but it was three and a half blocks away.  I had to run a block and a half just to get to the “26” sign.  Then I just had two blocks to go.

I ran the rest of the way, finishing in 5:16:42.  It was my slowest Boston Marathon by about eight minutes.

As soon as I stopped running, I got cold.  As I continued moving through the finish area, I put on my gloves again.

There were volunteers with water bottles, but I didn’t take one.  I was only a few blocks from my hotel, and I had plenty of water there.  I kept moving until I reached what I really wanted, which was my finisher medal.  This is the most coveted finisher medal a runner can get, with the possible exception of a six-star medal.

Another volunteer was handing out bottles of Gatorade.  I passed on that and kept walking to get to the volunteers with heat sheets.

In the next block, I reached the post-race food.  Most of the food was in pre-assembled bags.  Other volunteers were handing out bananas, but I didn’t need any more food.  The bag already had more than I could eat.  I was disappointed to see that the food bag also had a bottle of water and a bottle of Gatorade.  After a race where I was usually cold and drank plenty of fluids, I didn’t need that much more liquid.

It was one more block to the end of the finish area, and then another block to get to my hotel.  Before going up to my room, I stopped at the hotel bar.  I had noticed earlier that they had the Samuel Adams 26.2 Brew.  I could think of no more appropriate post-race beverage.

While I was paying for my beer, I set my food bag on the floor.  When I got to my room, I realized I had accidentally left my food bag it at the bar.  I wanted something to eat, but my hands were turning white now.  Before doing anything else, I needed to take a hot shower.  It took a long time for the color to return to my hands.

After getting dressed, I went back down to the bar to retrieve my food bag.  It was still right where I left it.  By the time I got back to my room again it was already 5:30 PM.  I wanted to get some dinner before it got too much later.  Eating some of my snacks now would just spoil my appetite for dinner, so I saved them for later.

I wanted to go to Night Shift Brewing for dinner, but I needed to take the “T.”  That was easier said than done.  The trains get crowded after the marathon.

I needed a green line train that would go at least as far as North Station.  The first train to come into the station would’ve gone there, but the train was so full that it didn’t even stop.  The next train was only going as far as Government Center.  The one after that was going far enough, but it was also packed.  I managed to squeeze on, but with so many trains backed up, it took a long time just to get to the next station.  I needed to go four more stations after that.  Then I had to walk a few blocks in the cold wind.

When I got to Night Shift Brewing, the place was packed.  That caught me off guard.  When I was there on Sunday, the place was practically empty.  It would have taken an hour to get a table.  Around the bar, it was standing room only.  I got exceptionally lucky, and I was able to get the seat of someone who was just leaving.  That was a relief, because I was tired, it was cold outside, and it was getting late to find someplace else.

I slept poorly the previous three nights, but Monday night I crashed hard.

Tuesday, April 20

I flew home on Tuesday.  My flight wasn’t until 11:55, so I was able to take my time getting ready to leave.  My breakfast consisted mostly of post-race snack foods, but I ate real food when I got to the airport.

I had time Sunday morning to catch up on the Facebook posts of several friends who also did the race.  Because of the cool weather and the tailwind, most of them ran fast times.  These were the best conditions I’ve ever seen at this race, but I wasn’t able to take advantage of it.  This is probably the last time I’ll run another marathon on the same weekend as the Boston Marathon. 

Race statistics:

Distance:  26.2 miles

Time:  5:16:42

Average Pace:  12:05 per mile

First Half:  2:26:20

Second Half:  2:50:22

Marathons/Ultras in 2026:  11

Lifetime Marathons/Ultras:  583

World Marathon Majors:  30 (15 Boston, 7 Chicago, 4 NYC, 2 Berlin, London, Tokyo)

Race Report: 2025 Flying Monkey Marathon

On November 23, I ran the Harpeth Hills Flying Monkey Marathon.  This race is held in Percy Warner Park, which is on the southwest edge of Nashville.  It’s a challenging race with a hilly course.  Here’s how Trent, the race director, describes the philosophy of the event on the race website:

“Ours has become an age of flat and fast marathons on city streets and in urban jungles, with more focus on times, course certification, gadgets, charities and putting on a big show than on running. Many modern marathons have become spectacles rather than athletic events. But it was not always this way. Marathons used to be about running for the sake of running. They were about pushing oneself beyond the physiologic limits of the human body. While running.

The Harpeth Hills Flying Monkey Marathon is meant to be an antidote. Featured in Marathon & Beyond and in Runners' World magazines, it is a marathon that is about running. Running hard. Running over big and memorable and painful rolling hills through dense woods. Running with other like-minded athletes. The Harpeth Hills Flying Monkey Marathon is about the joy and pain of running a unique, and uniquely challenging--some would say beastly--26.2 mile course in the beautiful and historic Percy Warner Park, nestled among the Middle Tennessee Harpeth Hills.

We will time and measure the distance, but the course will not be certified and it will not be a Boston qualifying event. If you get to the end and you (or your gadget) believe the route to be long, we won't charge you extra; if you believe it to be short, just keep running. There will be no bands, cheerleaders, wave starts or crowds. We promise no marathon Personal Records, but we guarantee every runner a PR - a Permanent Remembrance of a well-earned marathon finish. We promise to give you approximately 26.2 tough and memorable miles, with a total of over 3600 feet each of elevation gain and loss, or over 7200 feet of overall elevation change.

Sure, there are other road marathons out there claiming to be America's toughest. But they are no Monkey. Come out and join us in Nashville. We look forward to seeing you.”

This race is a somewhat whimsical event.  Trent has a sense of humor, as illustrated by this brief history of flying monkeys in Percy Warner Park, which can also be found on the race website:

“Nashville's Percy Warner Park is home to a legendary breed of flying monkeys, named the Harpeth Hills Flying Monkeys after the geologic region where they reside. The Harpeth Hills Flying Monkeys, classified as an endangered species, are only rarely seen by humans. The monkeys are most active during low light, before dawn and around dusk. Sightings of flying monkeys are uncommon, and most witnesses confuse them with large owls, hawks or flying piglets. While flying monkeys are reputed to carry away small dogs and lost runners, they are generally harmless. Nobody has ever successfully photographed a flying monkey, and flying monkeys are in no way related to or affiliated with the ivory-billed woodpecker.

Percy Warner Park is one of the last known natural flying monkey habitats. Before 1939, such monkeys were seen throughout the Southeast, with concentrations in middle Tennessee and Appalachia, with smaller communities outside Chattanooga and Natchez. Flying Monkeys were rarely seen as far west as Kansas. The monkeys have always been very shy and have kept to themselves, although they have been reported to live in creepy dank castles with green-skinned human outcasts. As a result of their isolationism, the flying monkeys have evoked fear and revulsion among people. Some hunt them for sport. Others have blamed the monkeys for society's ills. Yet others simply refuse to believe that they exist.

As a result of years of over-hunting, destruction of their natural habitats, and simple human ignorance, flying monkeys no longer fill the skies. Only a few tribes remain, mostly relegated to dark hollows and dense woods. From the years of neglect and conflict, the monkeys now generally hide from humans whenever possible. However, when attacked, a flying monkey can defend itself. Its greatest weapon is its wings, which it can use to blind or to carry away any predators.

Runners in Percy Warner Park should keep ever vigilant for the native wildlife. Herds of deer, woodpeckers, skunks, true owls and eagles constantly roam the hills and woods. They will usually stand and watch runners go by. Occasionally, a flying monkey can be spotted perched high up among tree branches in the predawn light. A very fortunate few will witness the monkeys take flight, wings spread beneath the setting full moon, enjoying a few moments of a lost freedom.

An important notice for your safety - many of you will see what you believe are different owl breeds when spending time in the woods in and around the parks. Please be aware that you may be seeing a flying monkey. Flying monkeys are so horrific to witness, your brain cannot properly process the vision and instead presents to your conscious something less frightening. When you see an owl, know then that it may well be a flying monkey, and it may be the last thing you ever see.”

I’ve run or walked this race three times before, but it’s been several years since I was last here.  It falls on the same weekend as other popular events, such as the Philadelphia Marathon and the Route 66 Marathon.  As I was working on completing circuits of 50 states, I found myself needing to do other races on this weekend.  Now that I’m done with that, it was finally time to return to Nashville.

My last three trips to Nashville were solo trips.  This year, Deb came with me.  Deb likes it when I do races that are fun or whimsical.  This was her opportunity to experience the race as a volunteer.

Saturday, November 22

We flew to Nashville Saturday morning.  Our first stop was the Nashville Flea Market, which was held at the Nashville Fairgrounds.  Deb loves browsing at flea markets, and this is one of the largest flea markets in the country.  The Nashville Flea Market is only held on the fourth weekend of each month, so we were lucky to be there on the right weekend.

When we were done at the flea market, we went to the Nashville Farmers Market, which is just west of downtown.  While we were there, we had lunch.

After lunch, we went to Percy Warner Park.  The marathon route includes both paved roads and paved trails.  We couldn’t drive the whole thing, but we drove enough of it to give Deb a sense of the scenery (and hills) that I would see during the race.

We stayed at a hotel in Brentwood.  We weren’t close to the downtown area, but we were only a few miles from the park.  After checking in and unpacking, we went grocery shopping.

Deb’s knee has been gradually improving, but we did more walking than she’s done since her surgery.  By the time we got back from grocery shopping, Deb needed to stay off her feet for the rest of the day.  Deb had dinner in our room.  I had my pre-race pizza at a restaurant that was a short walk from our hotel.

We got to bed early.  Deb slept well that night.  I slept like I usually do before a race.  I got enough sleep to get by.

Sunday, November 23

Sunday was race day.  There was a group start at 8:00 for runners who wanted to be eligible for awards.  For runners who didn’t care about awards, there was a rolling start.  You could start any time from 7:00 to 8:30.  Finally, runners who needed extra time could start at 6:00, but the aid stations wouldn’t be staffed until 7:00.

Packet pickup was before the race, so Deb and I arrived at the park shortly after 7:00.  That gave me plenty of time to pick up my race packet, bring stuff back to the car, and make a bathroom stop.

Every year, Trent chooses a different theme.  Past themes have included “The 10th Annual Monkey Games,” “Year of the Monkey,” “12 Monkeys,” and “The Good, the Bad, and the Monkey.”  This year’s theme was “My Circus.  My Monkeys.”

The first time I did this race, it was my 300th marathon, so Trent gave me bib number 300.  He always gives returning runners the same number they’ve had in the past, so I always get number 300.

The temperature at the start was in the upper 40s, so I opted for tights.  Since this is a festive event, it was an opportunity to wear the cheetah gear.  I was willing to risk getting warm later in the race.

My usual training routes are relatively flat.  For the past few weeks, I’ve been incorporating more hills into my runs, but it’s wasn’t enough to prepare me for a course as hilly as this one.  I knew I wouldn’t be able to run a fast time here, so I didn’t set any time goals.  My plan was to run a slow but steady pace and enjoy the scenery.

I was thinking of starting at 8:00, but I was ready by 7:30.  When I saw a few other runners getting ready to start, I decided to start right after they did.  That way, I had a few people I could follow in the early miles.

The start/finish area was in a large field.  We ran over grass for the first few minutes to get to the road.  After that, we were on pavement until the end of the race.

Most of the course was on the 11.2-mile main loop through the park, but we started out on the Shell Hill connector, which cuts across the park.  As you might guess from the name, this road took us up and over a hill.

This hill starts out fairly gradual, but it’s long, and it gets more tiring near the top.  As I was about to crest the hill, I saw a reminder from Trent that there were many more hills to come.

After that hill, there was a long downhill section.  Just before the end of the second mile, we turned onto the main loop.  For the next 11.2 miles, we ran this loop counterclockwise.

There were 15 aid stations on the course.  They all had water and a sports drink called Sword.  A few of the aid stations had other beverages, such as Coke, beer, or Fireball.

Near the end of the third mile, there was a tiring uphill section.  Farther up the hill. I saw people walking.  I decided to follow their lead.

I ran the first half of the hill, but walked most of the rest of it.  That set the tone for most of the race.  When I saw other runners walking on a hill, I gave myself permission to walk the same section.  Rather than wear myself out, I conserved my energy.

In the early miles, I stopped a few times to take pictures of the course.  We were surrounded by trees, although many of the leaves had fallen.

There were mile markers, but their placement was only approximate.  I didn’t have a target pace, so I didn’t need to know the distance precisely.  I just wanted to have a general idea of how far I had run.

Occasionally, we passed a scenic viewpoint.  We were on high ground.  Where there was a clearing, we could see other parts of the city.

I kept up a surprisingly good pace through the first four miles, but my pace slowed down as I encountered more hills.  Miles five through eight were pretty hilly.  By the time I reached the eight-mile sign, it felt like I had been running forever.

In mile nine, I reached a nice long downhill section.  I ran that whole mile without a walking break.

This was a cupless race, so I was using a small cup that I could clip to my fanny pack.  Shortly after leaving one of the aid stations, I heard something hitting the ground.  I looked back and saw my cup on the ground.  It had slipped out of the rubber sleeve that was clipped to my pack.  I had to backtrack a short distance up a hill to retrieve it.  After that, I was careful to make sure it was secure when I was leaving an aid station.

In mile 13, I encountered a tiring hill, and I wanted to take a walking break.  Everyone in front of me was running this hill, so I did too.  That set the tone for the second half.  If the people in front of me ran a hill, I did too, even if I wanted to walk.  That happened on three straight hills.

Roughly halfway through the race, we finished our first lap of the “11.2.”  By now, we had run every hill on the course once.  Next, we ran back across the park on the Shell Hill connector.  When we reached the other side of the main loop, we began running it in the clockwise direction.  We were running all the same hills again, but from the opposite side.  I thought about the places where there were long or steep downhills sections in the first half.  Those sections would be uphill in the second half.

As I got back onto the “11.2,” there was a particularly long hill.  On this hill, I saw people who were walking the whole way.  I ran portions of this hill, but I walked most of it.

Besides being physically tiring, this race is also mentally tiring.  You need to be constantly vigilant, watching the trees for flying monkeys.  I’ve never encountered one myself, but I saw one runner who has some experience with monkey attacks.

On the backs of the mile markers, Trent puts other messages.  Some of them had to do with this year’s theme.

Other signs had inspirational messages taunts.

With about nine miles to go, I noticed a scenic overlook that I had somehow missed when I ran by there in the other direction.

In the last eight miles, I tried harder to keep running on the hills.  Eventually, I saw people walking on a hill that had some steep switchbacks.  When I saw how much higher I would need to climb, I realized I would need to walk the steepest sections.

With about seven miles to go, I came to an aid station at a junction I didn’t remember.  I saw the runners ahead of me turning right after the aid station.  I saw other runners coming from that direction and turning back onto the main loop.  After making the turn myself, I finally realized where I was.  On the second loop, there’s a place where we leave the main loop to do a short loop around an area with scenic views.  As I came up a hill, I realized this was probably the highest ground on the course.  From here, I could look forward to having much more downhill than uphill the rest of the way.

Most of the pavement was smooth, but there were a few sections of rough pavement.  The road was covered with leaves, so you couldn’t always see the pavement clearly.  With about five miles to go, my foot caught on a patch of rough pavement, and I tumbled onto the road.  I was running downhill, so I hit the pavement pretty hard.

The runner who was just ahead of me stopped and asked me if I was OK.  On the pavement, I could see small pieces of plastic.  It was my drinking cup.  I landed on it, and it shattered into dozens of small pieces.  I told him I was OK, but my cup wasn’t.

I wasn’t badly hurt, but my right elbow was bleeding, and I had a few small scrapes on my left hand.  I had two wet naps with me, so I used one of them to clean my elbow as best I could.

This is the third time this year that I’ve fallen during a race.  All three of those races were in Tennessee.  I’m starting to think that Tennessee races are dangerous.

Although this was advertised as a cupless race, they did have some paper cups at the aid stations.  At the next two aid stations, I drank a cup of Sword and poured a cup of water over my elbow, to keep it clean.

In the late miles, I made more of an effort to run the hills, even if I was slow.  Then, with less than three miles to go, I saw several people ahead of me walking.  I saw what looked like a steep hill, so I started walking too.  Then I saw this sign.  Obviously, we were all mistaken.  This wasn’t a hill.

After that, when I saw people ahead of me walking, I told myself, “This isn’t a hill either,” and I kept running.

In the last two miles, we reached high ground overlooking the Harpeth Hills Golf Course.  I knew we were about to start a nice downhill section.  I saw two guys walking and tried to encourage them to run where it was downhill, but they kept walking.

When I finished the road loop, I still had to run over grass for a few minutes to get back to where I started.  I finished in 4:37:43.  That’s about what I expected.

Shortly after I got my finisher medal, Deb found me.  I took out my remaining wet nap and tried to clean my elbow again, but there was too much blood.  Deb wanted me to see one of the EMTs, but I went to the beer tent first.  I had to get my free Yazoo beer.

While I was drinking my beer, one of the EMTs spotted me.  I finished my beer, told Deb where I was going, and accompanied the EMT to his vehicle.  Two EMTs cleaned and bandaged my right elbow.  Besides the bleeding, it was also badly swollen.  It didn’t hurt, but I probably had an inflamed bursa.  I’ve banged that elbow before with the same result.

Because of the swelling, the EMTs wondered if I broke a bone or had ligament damage.  When they asked me if it hurt, I told them I only felt the scrapes.  In fact, I only noticed the scrapes on my left hand.  Because of that, I really didn’t notice any pain from my right elbow.

While I was running, Deb was volunteering at the merchandise tent.  She saw this map of the course and knew I would want one, so she made a point of buying one before they ran out.

Both of us were hungry.  They had food trucks in the finish area, so we each got an egg and cheese sandwich before leaving.

Getting cleaned up after the race, I had to be careful not to get my bandage wet.  A shower was out of the question.  I could take a bath, but I had to keep my right elbow away from the water.

While I was getting cleaned up, Deb went grocery shopping.  I was out of commission until dinner.

By evening, I was noticing my elbow much more.  It was stiff, and I felt some discomfort when I bent it.  I took some Tylenol so it wouldn’t keep me awake at night, but I put off getting X-rays until I got home.

I also noticed some scrapes on the side of my right knee.  I didn't notice them right after the race, because I was wearing tights.  Those scrapes probably would've been much worse if I had been wearing shorts.

The Tylenol helped for a while, but I woke up during the night and had trouble getting back to sleep.  Deb had trouble sleeping for different reasons.  She spent a long time on her feet, walking on uneven ground.

Monday, November 24

We didn’t fly home until Tuesday, so Monday was an extra day for sightseeing.  We drove to Centennial Park, which is home to Nashville’s full-scale replica of the Parthenon.

Centennial Park is one of the places where you can board the Old Town Trolley.  The trolley is a hop-on-hop-off bus with 13 stops around Nashville.  Between stops, our driver gave us commentary about the sights around us.  Among other things, he pointed out the homes and recording studios of several well-known recording artists, and he played relevant samples of their music.

We got off the trolley at one of the downtown stops and spent the next couple of hours downtown.  One of our stops was Goo Goo Chocolate Company, where you can design your own candy bar.

After having lunch downtown and walking up and down Broadway, we got back on the trolley, eventually riding it back to Centennial Park, where our car was parked.

After our sightseeing, we stopped at a CVS Minute Clinic, so I could have the dressing changed on my elbow.

Deb’s dinner on Sunday was so big that she had enough leftovers for her dinner on Monday.  I was on my own for dinner, so I walked to a nearby restaurant.

Tuesday, November 25

We flew home Tuesday morning.  I have a doctor appointment on Wednesday to have my elbow examined.  Perhaps, I should also have me head examined.

Race statistics:

Distance:  26.2 miles

Time:  4:37:43

Average Pace:  10:36 per mile

First Half:  2:15:35

Second Half:  2:22:08

Marathons/Ultras in 2025:  32

Lifetime Marathons/Ultras:  567

Monkey Kills:  4

Race Report: 2025 Med City Marathon

On May 18, I ran the Med City Marathon in Rochester, MN.  Rochester is only 75 miles from where I live.  That’s close enough that I could easily drive there, but far enough that I still chose to stay in a hotel.

Until a few days ago, we were having highs near 90 degrees.  Cooler temperatures arrived just in time for race weekend.  On Saturday, the high was in the 50s.  Overnight, it dropped into the upper 30s.  I brought my warmest tights, T-shirt, and hat.  That’s the cheetah outfit.

I drove to Rochester after lunch on Saturday and checked into a downtown hotel.  Then I walked to packet pickup, which was held at the Historic Chateau Theater.  The race shirt was a tank top.  I always like it when that’s an option, because I already have too many T-shirts.

Before dinner, I sampled some beers at a bar that was across the street from my hotel.  I was talking to a runner sitting next to me who was doing the half marathon, but his daughter was doing the marathon.  It was going to be her first marathon, and she was nervous about it.  I offered to run with her, and I told her what I would be wearing, so she could look for me before the race.  I asked what her name was, and she said it was “Abbi.”  I’m putting that in quotes, because I didn’t ask her how it was spelled.  It could be Abby or Abbey.

I had dinner at an Italian restaurant that was close to my hotel.  After dinner, I went to bed as early as I could.  I was able to get to sleep right away.  I slept well at first, but I woke up around 1:45.  Then, I couldn’t get back to sleep.  I got at least seven hours of sleep, so I wasn’t too worried about it.

I usually run with a fanny pack, which I use to hold things like car keys hotel rooms cards, and my driver’s license.  As I was getting dressed, I realized that I neglected to pack my fanny pack.  If I had noticed that the day before, I could’ve bought something at the expo.  Now, it was too late.

The only thing I needed to bring with me was a hotel room card.  I found that the least intrusive way to carry it was to tuck it inside my waistband.

The race finishes in the downtown area, but the start is at an event center near the airport, which is eight miles away.  They had buses to take us to the start.  The buses left from in front of the Mayo Civic Center, which was about four blocks from my hotel.

The race website said the buses would begin loading at 5:20.  It didn’t say when the last bus would leave.  I probably should’ve asked at packet pickup, but I didn’t.  Without knowing, I showed up at 5:20.  I was on the first bus.

The start area was only eight miles away, so it didn’t take long to get there.  Then, I had a long wait outside.  We were dropped off next to an evetn center, but the building wasn’t open.

They had a gear check, but I chose not to use it.  To stay warm in the start area, I brought a Tyvek jacket and a heat shield.  It was windy, so I stayed close to the building, where I wasn’t as exposed.

Two members of the 50sub4 Marathon Club live in Rochester, and others had traveled here for the race.  About 20 minutes before the race, we posed for a group photo.

I discarded my heat shield when I went to line up for the race.  I kept the Tyvek jacket on.  I was originally planning to take it off and tie it around my race before I started running.  Instead, I unzipped it in front, but I kept it on until I got warmed up.

I’ve run this race before, but the course has changed since the last time I ran it.  The old course was hilly in the first half, but flattened out in the second half.  The new course approaches the city from a different direction, so it doesn’t have any of the hills I remembered.  The big challenge in the early miles was the wind.  It was a cold wind, and we were mostly running into it until we got into the city.

I didn’t know if I would recognize “Abbi.”  I'm not good at recognizing people that I've only met once.  I remembered what her hair looked like, but most women with long hair wear it differently when they run.  “Abbi” had told me she was going to start the race with the 4:00 pace group, so that’s where I lined up.  When a young runner with blond hair recognized me, I assumed it must be her.

I asked “Abbi” if she was planning to run the whole race with the 4:00 group or if she was just starting with them.  She said four hours was her goal.  I also asked her how far she went in training.  She told me about her last few long training runs.  The longest was 22 miles.

Early in the race, “Abbi” and I both followed the pace group.  In addition to the 4:00 group for the marathon, there was a 2:00 group for the half marathon.  The two groups were running together, so it was a large group.  I found running behind this large group to be useful to shelter from the wind.

“Abbi” was wearing ear buds, so I seldom talked to her.  To hear me, she had to take them out, so I just stayed with the pace group.  Every now and then, I looked to see where she was, but I assumed she would be able to stay with the group in the early miles.  If she struggled to keep up the pace, it wouldn’t be until later in the race.

After a few miles, I started to notice that I was getting splits from my watch way before we reached the banners marking each mile.  It’s not unusual for a GPS watch to be off, but the discrepancy seemed unusually large.  I think the placement of the banners was inconsistent.

I talked to one of the 4:00 pacers, and she said they were pacing according to their watches, but going a little bit faster in case their watches were recording splits too soon.  Our target pace was 9:09 per mile, but the pacers were keeping us closer to 9:00.

About halfway through the fifth mile, I started to feel perspiration under the sleeves of my jacket.  That’s when I finally took it off and tied it around my waist.

The early miles were gently rolling, but with a downhill trend.  At one point, one of the pacers told us we were about to start running down a hill that was about a mile long.  Some runners went ahead, but I held back and stayed with the pacers.

They had a marathon relay.  After running downhill, we reached the first exchange point.  There was also an aid station there.  A bus to transport relay runners was parked in the middle of the street, forcing us onto the shoulder just as we were going through the heavily congested relay exchange point.  Making matters worse, there were rumble strips between the driving lane and the shoulder.

I realized at some point that I would need to make a bathroom stop.  I knew I would need to pee before too long.  I also felt pressure in my intestine, and I wasn’t willing to assume that it was just gas.  I told “Abbi” I was going to make a bathroom stop the next time we reached an aid station, but I would try to catch up later.

Somewhere near the end of the eighth mile, we ran under a bridge, and I saw an aid station with two port-o-potties just past the bridge.  I took the opportunity to stop.

Taking care of my business took longer than it should have.  I had to take off my gloves, and I also had to be careful not to lose my hotel room card.  The pressure I felt was just gas, but I still took the time to empty my intestines as much as I possible could.

When I was done, I got a drink from the aid station.  As I resumed running, I looked at my watch.  I had lost roughly two and a half minutes.

I’m used to running marathons at a slightly faster pace than the pace I was running today.  I was confident that I could speed up by about 15 seconds per mile, but at that pace it would take 10 miles to catch up to the group.  I didn’t know if “Abbi” would begin to struggle at some point.  If she did, I wanted to be there to help her get through the late miles.

I was now surrounded by runners who were going a little bit slower than the pace I was going before.  To pick up my pace, I needed to be passing everyone around me.

I picked up my pace until it felt tiring.  I passed the 8-mile banner almost immediately, but I wouldn’t know my pace until I finished mile nine.  I was surprised to see how fast I was running.  I ran that mile in 8:02.

At that pace, it would only take another mile and a half to catch up to the group, but I knew this pace would wear me out.  I eased up a little, but then I realized I was no longer passing people.  I had to accelerate again to make sure I was still gaining ground on the group.

Mile 10 was almost as fast.  I ran it in 8:09.  Looking ahead, I could see where runners were making a U-turn and going up a ramp.  I saw the 2:00 pacer, but I didn’t see a 4:00 pacer.

As I got closer, I saw a sign indicating this was where the marathon and half marathon routes diverged.  The runners doing the half marathon did the U-turn.  The runners doing the marathon kept going straight.  Looking farther ahead, I saw the 4:00 pace leader.  Now that I could see the group, I knew I would catch up to them.

Midway through the next mile, I caught up with the group.  As I pulled alongside “Abbi,” she noticed I was back.  I told her I had been running 8-minute miles, and I would probably regret that later.  I was really worried that those fast miles would destroy me for the late miles.

Most of the runners were wearing extra layers, but as it gradually warmed up, they discarded them.  “Abbi” had started the race in a green long-sleeved shirt.  At some point, I noticed the shirt was gone.  I still recognized her from her ear buds and a pink case on her lower back that held her phone.

By the time we reached the halfway mark, I was finding it more difficult to keep up with the group.  Most of the time, the pace felt manageable, but if I fell behind at an aid station, it was more difficult to catch up.  It was also tough keep up on hills.  In general, the rest of the course was fairly flat, but it wasn’t perfectly flat.  There were occasional small rises, and now I found them to be tiring.

In the second half of the race, I started getting splits from my watch after we passed the mile markers.  I never trust my watch completely, but I trusted it more than I trusted the mile markers.

Most of the time, we were on roads, but some sections of the course were on paved trails through a forest.  At one point, we saw a family of ducks running across the trail.  They were the tiniest baby ducks I’ve ever seen.  Earlier, we had seen a wild rabbit run across the trail.

If not for “Abbi,” I would’ve dropped back and finished at my own pace.  I forced myself to keep up with the group, because I wanted to help her get through the difficult miles at the end of the race.  All first-time marathoners struggle at least a little bit.  My only goal for this race was to help her get through those miles.  Finishing your first marathon can be a life-changing event.  I wanted to see her finish.

At one point, our remaining pace leader told us we were coming up on “the hill.”  This was the only tough hill on the course.  It wasn’t steep, but it was long.

For the first half of the hill, I was able to keep up.  Then I started to lose contact.  I kept the group in sight until I reached the top.  As we started running back downhill, I worked hard to catch up.  I was actually breathing harder on the downhill than I did going uphill.

Up until now, I rarely talked to “Abbi.”  Now I started talking to her more often.  When we got to 20 miles, I told her that most first-time marathoners would be struggling at this point, but she was going strong.  She appreciated hearing that.

Since reaching the city, we had been running in a big loop.  At 22 miles, we completed the loop and began to repeat a section we had run before.  Miles 23 and 24 were the same as miles 9 and 10.  Coincidentally, those were the two miles I had run much faster the first time around.  Knowing how fast I had run these miles before made me feel more confident that I could keep up with the group as we ran them again.

When I saw the “23” banner I told “Abbi” she set a PR.  What I meant by that was that she had run farther today than she had every run.  In reply, she asked, “I told you that?”

I reminded her that she said her longest training run was 22 miles.  Then she said that she had run marathons before.  Her PR was 3:59.  She thought I meant that she was on pace to beat that time.

I realized now that my entire race was based on a misunderstanding.  This woman obviously didn’t need my help to get through the tough miles.  This wasn’t her first rodeo.  I was left wondering if I had completely misunderstood my previous conversations with “Abbi.”  I also wondered if I was still talking to “Abbi.”  Did I somehow get her mixed up with another runner in the pace group who looked similar.  It didn’t help that nobody was wearing the same clothes now that they were wearing at the beginning of the race.  I’m going to continue referring to her as “Abbi,” but I didn’t really know if this was the same runner.

“Abbi” was obviously feeling strong, and she was determined to beat her previous best of 3:59.  The two of us were now pulling away from the pace group.  I was tempted to ask her what her name was, but I felt awkward asking.  If this really was “Abbi,” she already told me her name.  By the time I finally decided to ask, it was too late.

As we passed the 24-mile banner, “Abbi” was clearly feeling strong.  She picked up the pace to the point where I could no longer keep up with her.  I had lost my chance to ask her name.

“Abbi” was wearing her race bib on her back.  I could make out the first and last digits, but I couldn’t read the middle digit.  Her hair was in the way.

When I reached the “25” banner, I made one last attempt to catch up with “Abbi.”  I sped up as much as I could, but I was still losing ground.  By the time I reached the “26” banner, I could no longer see her.

I finished at the best pace I could.  I finished in 3:57:27.  Despite running miles nine, ten, and part of eleven at a pace that almost broke me, I managed to run fairly even splits.

After I got my finisher medal, I started to look for “Abbi.”  I couldn’t find her.  She was already gone.  I picked up some post-race food and headed for the results tent.

They had monitors where you could type in your bib number and see your official result.  The sun was shining on the monitors in such a way that I couldn’t read them.  I had to ask one of the volunteers to look up my result.  That’s when I found out that I placed second in my age group.  Nothing about this race went as planned, but it had a happy ending.

My hotel was just around the block from the finish area.  As I was walked back to the hotel, I spotted another 50sub4 runner.  We’re in the same age group, and he had finished in 3:45.  He was the winner of our age group.  If I had been trying to go all out for a fast time, my goal would’ve been 3:50.  I still would’ve been second in my age group.

After the race, I searched the results for every possible bib number starting with “4” and ending with “2.”  My best guess is that the runner I was talking to in the late miles was a woman named Emily who finished in 3:56:10.

I also searched the results for any woman named Abbi, Abby, Abbey, or Abigail.  Initially, I didn't find her.  When I reviewed the complete race results the next day, I found her.  She finished the race nine seconds after I did.   When I sped up to try to keep up with Emily, Abbi sped up to follow me.  I still feel bad about mistaking Emily for Abbi, but I'm relieved to know that Abbi had a strong finish.

At the end of the race, I was confused, but I now realize that it was only in the last few miles that I mistook Emily for Abbi.  My biggest regret now is that I didn't get to see Abbi finish.

Race statistics:

Distance:  26.2 miles

Time:  3:57:27

Average Pace:  9:03 per mile

First Half:  1:58:35

Second Half:  1:58:52

Lifetime Marathons/Ultras:  545

Minnesota Marathons/Ultras:  105