Race Report: 2026 FANS 24-Hour Run

On the weekend of June 6-7, I ran the FANS 24-Hour Run.  I do this race almost every year.  For the last several years, it’s been held at Normandale Lake Park in Bloomington, MN.

In a 24-hour race, you can run, walk, or take rest breaks, but the clock is always running.  The objective is to run or walk as far as you can in 24 hours.  We started at 8 AM on Saturday, and we had until 8 AM on Sunday to see how far we could go.

The 24-hour race has separate divisions for runners and walkers.  I usually do the 24-hour run, but there are serious race-walkers in the 24-hour walk.  This year there were three walkers from Europe who came here to see if they could earn a Centurion badge by walking 100 miles in 24 hours.  The one rule the walkers have to follow is they can never have both feet off the ground at the same time.

Besides the 24-hour race, there’s a 12-race, a 6-hour race, and a marathon.  The marathon was new this year.  All of the fixed-time races started at 8 AM, but the marathon started at 10 PM.

Our course was a 1.85-mile loop around the lake.  The whole course is paved, except for two short wooden bridges, where we cross Nine Mile Creek.

This is a local race for me, but for the third straight year, I chose to stay in a hotel that was close to the race venue.  A long-term construction project on I-494 has made drive times difficult to predict.

I checked into my hotel in Bloomington Friday afternoon.  Then I went over to the lake to pick up my race packet.  For the second straight year, I had bib number 2.  Of the people doing the 24-hour run, only Ed Rousseau had more lifetime miles.

I had dinner with Deb, Betty, and John.  I went to bed early and slept for about six and a half hours.  Then I woke up and couldn’t get back to sleep.  I slept well the previous two nights, so I crossed my fingers that I got enough sleep to get by.

There was an area on the west side of the lake where we could pitch tents.  As usual, I was sharing a tent with my sister, Betty, and her husband, John.  Betty always volunteers at this race.  John does the 24-hour walk

The tent gave us a place to store all our gear.  Some people take naps during the night, but John and I usually press on through the night.

The earliest we could set up tents was 6:00 Saturday morning.  Betty and John were also staying in a nearby hotel, and we all arrived by 6:00, so we could get our usual tent site before someone else claimed it.

After setting up our tent and unpacking our gear, John and I each needed to pick up our timing chips and weigh in at the medical tent.  During the race, we needed to weigh in every four hours.

It was a hot day.  When I left the hotel, the temperature was in the 60s.  Humidity was so high that I had to run the wipers, because my windshield kept fogging up.  When the race started, it was 70 degrees, but the afternoon high was in the upper 80s.  Making matters worse, it was a bright sunny day, and I rarely felt any wind.

The last time I did this race, my goal was 100 miles.  I started too fast, and I got dehydrated on a hot afternoon.  By nightfall, I was struggling.  I fought hard to try to stay on pace for 100 miles, and I wore myself out.  My attitude was “100 miles or bust.”  When I was no longer on pace for 100 miles, I stopped.

This year, my goals were more flexible.  I was hoping to get to 100 miles, but I had doubts about whether I was in good enough shape for that.  The weather conditions made it even more unlikely.  I started the race on pace for 100 miles, but if I couldn’t get there, I would do whatever I could.

The course is moderately hilly.  None of the hills are long or steep, but there are about a dozen hills in each lap around the lake.  My pacing plan was to walk all the hills.  That gave me a dozen short walking breaks in every lap.  The beauty of this pacing plan is that I actually looked forward to the hills.  Instead of taking more energy, the hills were my rest breaks.

For the last two months, I’ve been doing most of my training on the race course.  More often than not, I’ve been walking the hills, so I could get an idea of what my average pace would be.  This is an image I captured after one of my training runs.  The dark blue segments are where I took walking breaks.

I found that if I walked every hill and ran the rest of the loop at a comfortable pace, my average pace was between 12:00 and 12:30 per mile.  That’s without stopping to eat or drink.  During the race, I needed to stop briefly at the aid stations.  I also needed to stop occasionally for bathroom breaks, periodic weigh-ins, or to get things from my tent.  Factoring in these stops, I expected my average pace to be at least 30 seconds per mile slower.

To get to 100 miles, I needed to average 14:24 per mile for 24 hours.  I was OK with starting a little faster than that, knowing I would almost certainly slow down in the afternoon heat.  I also expected to be slower in the second half of the race.

There were two aid stations on the course.  The main aid station was set up near the bandshell.  This aid station had water, Gatorade, and a variety of snack foods, including cookies, fruit, and sandwiches.  The secondary aid station was at the opposite corner of the lake, near Nine Mile Creek.  This aid station also had water and Gatorade, but not as much food.

I drank Gatorade at both aid stations.  To take in enough calories, I also occasionally ate solid food at the main aid station.

There were two methods of lap counting.  The primary method was chip timing.  We all wore ankle straps with timing chips, and there were timing mats at a few different places.  As a backup method, there were also volunteers at the main aid station who were manually recording our laps.

Every lap finished at the main aid station, but the first lap started near the medical tent, where we checked in.  This was done for convenience.  Our first lap included an out-and-back segment, making it longer than other laps.  This was done so the 100-mile point would come right at the end of the 54th lap.

The out-and-back was new this year.  There was one other small difference.  We used to go down a steep hill just before the secondary aid station.  This year, we approached that aid station from a different direction.  That made each lap slightly longer than it has been in past years, but it removed a steep drop that was somewhat uncomfortable.  The new approach was more gradual.

I did dozens of laps on this course in training, so I would know every turn and hill by heart.  I was training on the old course, so on race day, I had to get used the new approach to aid station #2.

There have been other hot years, but I usually felt comfortable during the morning hours.  This year, I felt warm right away.  I noticed the humidity from the first lap.

My past experience was that drinking a cup of Gatorade at each aid stations was sufficient for the morning, but I needed to drink more in the afternoon.  Last year, I didn’t drink enough, and I got dehydrated.  This year, I overcompensated.

Because it warmed up so quickly, I started drinking three cups per lap.  At one aid station, I’d drink two cups.  At the other, I’d drink one cup, and I’d sometimes eat some solid food.

For the first hour of the race, I was averaging about 12 minutes per mile.  As I started taking bathroom breaks and spending more time at aid stations, my pace slowed to about 12:30 per mile.  That was about the same pace as my training runs, and it felt pretty easy.

By noon, it was 80 degrees, and the sun was intense.  Now I was drinking two cups pf Gatorade at each aid station.

My first periodic weigh-in was at noon.  I was up 3.5 pounds compared to my pre-race weight.  I was shocked to have gained so much weight so quickly.  The next four hours would be the hottest of the race, yet I cut back on my fluid intake.

I had a cooler at our tent filled with Gatorade bottles and crushed ice.  I was expecting to need to supplement my fluid intake by drinking Gatorade each time I came by our tent.  I held off on that.

To cope with the heat during the afternoon hours, I started putting ice in my hat each time I came by the tent.  I also started taking electrolyte capsules.

In the afternoon, I was making more frequent bathroom stops.  Those stops, plus the time I spent at our tent getting ice, caused my average pace to slow down.  My afternoon pace was slower than the 14:24 I needed to average.  Some miles took more than 15 minutes.

About every four laps, I ate something at the main aid station.  I had a couple pieces of energy bars.  Then I had some trail mix.  When I came by at the end of my 13th lap, I saw pizza.

One of the sponsors was Parkland Pizza, and they delivered pizza at different times during the race.  It was a tavern-cut, making it easy to grab one square and eat it during a short walking break.  The pizza was better than any of the other odds at the aid station, so I ate pizza three times during the race.

I reached the marathon mark in 5:47.  That’s longer than I’ve taken in the past, but anything faster would have been too fast for the conditions.

I needed to focus on intermediate milestones.  The next one was 50K.  I reached that during my 17th lap.  When I finished my 18th lap, I was more than one third of the way to 100 miles.  I got there in less than eight hours.  In theory, I was on pace for 100 miles.  In reality, I had already slowed down too much.

With more frequent bathroom stops, my pace got slower.  Sometimes it was slower than 16 minutes per mile.  It became obvious that I was no longer on pace to get to 100 miles.  Realizing that goal was out of reach, I switched my pacing strategy.  Instead of walking the hills and running everywhere else, I started mostly walking.  I only ran on downhill sections.

 I was carrying my electrolyte pills with me in a small zip-lock bag, so I could take them at the aid stations.  I couldn’t get a pill ready while running, so I had to do it while I was on a walking break.

For several laps, I kept forgetting to get a pill ready.  I wouldn’t remember until I was already at the aid station.  Rather than stopping to get a pill out, I kept telling myself I’d remember on the next lap.  Then I’d forget again.  That contributed to problems I would experience later.

At 4 PM, I weighed in again.  Despite cutting back on my fluid intake, I was up another half a pound.

By now, most of the ice in my cooler had melted.  The rest had frozen into large chucks.  I no longer had enough small pieces of ice that I could put in my hat.  I thought it was late enough in the day that I no longer needed to out ice in my hat.  I neglected to consider that it was actually hottest at 5 PM.  Without ice in my hat, it was harder to cope with the heat.  I didn’t realize how much the ice was helping until I no longer had any.

My body was sending me mixed signals.  In the late afternoon, I was needed to stop to pee every lap.  On one lap, I made two bathroom stops.  Between that and the weight gain, it seemed clear that I was overhydrated.  On the other hand, my mouth and throat were always dry.

Now that I was doing more walking, I started to walk at a somewhat brisk pace.  My average pace wasn’t much slower than it had been when I was mostly running, but I wasn’t working as hard.

By 8 PM, I had run 48.1 miles.  In theory, I was on pace for 96 miles, but that was misleading.  At the pace I was going now, I would be doing well to get into the 80s.

This is an RRCA state championship event.  There were RRCA awards for the top male and female overall, and well as the top male and female in the open 40, over 50, and over 60 divisions.  I wondered what it would take to win the over 60 division.  When I’ve won it before, I did at least 100 miles.  On such a hot day, would something in the 80s be enough?

I weighed in again.  Finally, I had some good news.  My weight was down two pounds since 4 PM.  I was still two pounds over my pre-race weight, but I was moving in the right direction.

After another lap, I reached the 50-mile mark.  When I finished that lap, the lap counters ran a cowbell for me.  They do that whenever someone reaches 50 miles, 100K, or 100 miles.

Betty had been doing lap counting from 2 to 8 PM.  When her volunteer shift was over, she checked the live results to see how competitive the over 60 division was.  There was a guy over 60 who was already 18 miles ahead of me.  He was in third place overall.

Clearly, I could forget about competing for that award.  That left me with one other goal.  I needed 140 miles to get to 1,500 lifetime miles, so I could join the 1,500 mile club.  If I could run 70 miles this year, I would just need 70 more next year.

To get to 70 miles, I needed to finish 11 more laps.  That a lot of laps.  At this point, each one seemed to take forever.  I had plenty of time.  At the rate I was going, I could get to 70 miles and still have time for a few more laps.

The sun set at 9:00 and within half an hour, it was dark.  The course was lined with battery-power lamps, but there were still dark patches.  We were expected to use a flashlight or headlamp to help with visibility during the night.

Once the sun went down, it immediately felt cooler.  The temperature came down gradually, but without direct sunlight, it was much more comfortable.  I didn’t need to drink as much, but it was hard to resist drinking at aid stations.  On some laps, I only drank at one aid station.  At others, I couldn’t resist drinking at both.

As the night progressed, it got harder to maintain a brisk walking pace.  I wanted to average at least three miles per hour (20-minute miles), but I had to go faster to compensate for bathroom stops and other downtime.  With effort, I was keeping most of my splits under 19 minutes, but that effort was wearing me down.

I had to focus on more immediate milestones.  The next one was getting to midnight, when I would weigh in again.

At midnight, my weight was up again.  I had regained the two pounds that I previously lost.  I didn’t realize it yet, but that was my undoing.  I was drinking too much, and I wasn’t getting enough salt.  My fingers were starting to swell, which is one of the symptoms of hyponatremia.

By now, I started to notice that I wasn’t always walking in a straight line.  At first, I wondered if I was just a little disoriented because I wasn’t seeing the full width of the path.  I also wondered if it was the result of muscle fatigue.  I was also starting to lean to my right, as my core muscles got fatigued.

This was something else.  Over the next several laps, I noticed it more and more.  I was weaving back and forth.  I also started to feel punchy.  It was like I was drunk.

My next lap took me to 100K.  The lap counters rang the cowbell for me again.  After that, I still needed four more laps to get to 70 miles.

On my next lap, I was staggering, but I kept making forward progress, and I got through that lap.  Now, I just needed three more laps.

The next lap was much more difficult.  It was scary.  I didn’t know if I could get through another lap safely.  I worried that if I started another lap, I might not be able to stay upright.

I was still two laps short of 70 miles, but I couldn’t go on like this.  I told my lap counter that I was going to take a break at my tent, so he shouldn’t be concerned if he didn’t see me for a while.  Then I went just far enough around the loop to get to my tent.

I borrowed a heat sheet, so I wouldn’t get cold, and I sat down to rest.  The guy in the adjacent tent asked me if I needed anything, such as water, Gatorade, or chips.  Potato chips sounded wonderful.  He gave me some potato chips, and they were wonderfully salty.  It was just what I needed.

Rather than rest in the night air, which was getting chilly, I decided to go back to the hotel.  I took a hot shower and climbed into bed.  I set an alarm and tried to take a nap.

Before I could fall asleep, I needed to get up to pee.  I climbed back into bed, but before long I needed to pee again.  This went on for a while.  I never got to sleep, but I was gradually passing all the excess fluid I had been carrying for most of the race.

I eventually got dressed and went back to the lake.  I felt better, but I chose not to run any more laps.  I ended the day with 66.78 miles.  That’s disappointing, but I didn’t want to drag myself through another lap or two in my current condition.’

I talked to the people at the medical tent.  What I was experiencing can sometimes be a symptom of hyponatremia.  I’ve heard of this symptom before, but I had never previously experienced it.  It’s sometimes called water intoxication or water drunkenness.

John, who was walking, also had a goal of getting to 70 miles.  He went well beyond that, getting to 75 miles.  He could have gone farther, but he stopped at 75, so we could start packing up our campsite.  By 8 AM, we were all packed up.

After the race, there was a post-race breakfast, followed by an awards ceremony.  A surprising number of runners had strong races, in spite of the tough conditions.  Two of the race-walkers earned centurion badges by getting to 100 miles.

I expect to be back at FANS again next year.  I need 72.6 miles to get to 1,500 total.  That’ll probably be my overriding goal.

Race statistics:

Distance:  66.78 miles

Official Time:  24 hours

Actual Time on Course:  18:42:20

Average Pace:  16:48 per mile

Marathons/Ultras in 2026:  15

Lifetime Marathons/Ultras:  587

Minnesota Marathons/Ultras:  116

Lifetime FANS Miles:  1427.4

Race Report: 2025 FANS 24-Hour Run

On May 31, I ran the FANS 24-Hour Run.  This is one of the FANS Ultra Races, which also include a 24-hour walk, a 12-hour run, a 12-hour walk, and a 6-hour run.  The race venue was Normandale Lake Park in Bloomington, MN.  The course was a 1.82-mile paved loop around the lake.

We could pick up our race packets at the lake on Friday.  Alternatively, we could pick them up Saturday morning before the race.  Race morning is always busy, so I picked mine up on Friday.

I was assigned bib number 2.  That’s the lowest bib number I’ve ever had.  The lowest bib numbers were given to the runners who have the most cumulative miles at FANS.  The runner with the most lifetime miles is Sue Olsen, but she was doing the 6-hour run, and the shorter races had different ranges of bib numbers.  Of the runners doing the 24-hour run, only Ed Rousseau had more total FANS miles than me.  Ed is the only runner who has done this race every year.

Ordinarily, I would sleep in my own bed, but I made a last-minute decision to stay in a hotel that was just a mile away from the lake.  There were two things that drove this decision.  First, Interstate 494 through Bloomington was shut down for the weekend.  To drive to the race from home, I would’ve needed to detour on side streets, which would force me to leave awfully early.  Also, staying in a hotel made it easier to get a large quantity of crushed ice.

There was an area at the west end of the lake where we could set up tents.  I shared a tent with my sister, Betty, and her husband, John.  John was doing the 24-hour walk, and Betty was volunteering.  The race didn’t start until 8:00 AM, but we could start setting up tents any time after 6:00.  The three of us arrived at 6:00, so we could get our usual tent site.

After setting up, I had time to walk through tent city and visit with other runners.

Although I picked up my race packet on Friday, I still had to check in Saturday morning to get the ankle strap with my timing chip.  Then I weighed in.

Weigh-ins were optional, but I find them to be helpful.  A large fluctuation in weight would alert me if I was overhydrating or underhydrating.  In addition to my pre-race weigh-in, I also weighed in every four hours during the race.

I had the same two goals as last year.  My first goal was to run 100 miles.  My second goal was to win the state championship for men over 60.  In the past, I would’ve taken 100 miles for granted.  My poor performance at the Across the Years 48-hour race in January shook my confidence, but I’ve had several good race results since then.  I’m not as well-trained as I was last year, but I’m still in better shape than I was three years ago, when I ran 100 miles with minimal training.

The temperature at the start was in the 60s.  It was forecast to get up into the 80s in the late afternoon.  That’s hot, but I wasn’t too concerned.  I was planning to take frequent walking breaks, which makes it easier to keep from overheating.

What concerned me more was the air quality.  Smoke from wildfires in Canada has been moving into Minnesota.  The air quality wasn’t too bad on Friday, but it got into the unhealthy range on Saturday.  I don’t have asthma, but it still wasn’t an ideal day to be outdoors all day, much less running.  The timing wasn’t great, but this is the only day of the year that I get to run this race.

I wore two watches.  On one wrist, I wore a Timex watch, which I used to keep track of elapsed time since the race started.  On my other wrist, I wore a Garmin watch.  My Garmin is an inexpensive model.  It has an estimated battery life of 22 hours when it’s in run mode.  That’s not long enough for a race like this, so I wasn’t using GPS.  To know my distance, I just needed to know how many laps I completed.  I wore the Garmin watch so I could have a record of my heart rate during the race.  It also counted my steps.

There were two methods of lap counting.  The primary method was chip timing.  We all wore timing chips on our ankles, and there was a timing mat at the end of the loop.  As a backup method, there were volunteers who were counting our laps manually.  If you weren’t sure how many laps you completed, you could always ask the lap counters.

The course had two aid stations.  The main aid station was next to the bandshell.  There was also a secondary aid station at the opposite corner of the lake.  Both had water, Gatorade, and food, but there was a wider variety of food at the main aid station.

We had until 8:00 AM on Sunday to run (or walk) as far as we could.  We could take breaks at any time, but the clock was always running.

The first lap wasn’t a complete lap around the lake.  Instead of starting at the main aid station, we started near the tent area.  That was done for convenience.  After that, every lap started and finished at the main aid station.  That’s where the lap counters were.

There’s an award for the person who runs the fastest first lap.  This award is named after Bob Frawley, who was the founder of the race.  Bob used to have a reputation for starting fast.

The first time I ran FANS, back in 1998, Bob was still the race director.  Bob later handed off the reins to other race directors, but he continued to run in the race.  Bob passed away last summer.  As a tribute to Bob, I decided to run fast for the first lap before settling into a more sustainable pace.

I lined up in front and went out at a fast pace.  Initially, one other runner was keeping up with me.  He was a runner I met two years ago, when we were both doing the 6-hour run.  He was doing the 6-hour run again.

After about half a mile, another runner caught up to us.  His name was Chris, and he was doing the 12-hour run.  For the rest of the lap, I ran side-by-side with Chris.  I had to work hard to keep up with Chris, and I couldn’t have done it for much longer.

I assumed this award went to the 24-hour runner with the fastest first lap, so I didn’t really need to compete with Chris for it.  I kept up with him, but I didn’t try to outsprint him to the finish line at the end of that lap.  We hit the line together with a lap time of 11:45.  The first lap was 1.51 miles, so our pace was about 7:47 per mile.

That was fun, but it was crazy.  After pausing to get a drink of Gatorade at the aid station, I had to walk for a few minutes to try to recover.  When I resumed running, it was at a more relaxed pace.  My left Achilles tendon felt a little bit tight.  I considered stopping at our tent to massage my left calf with a massage stick.  Instead, I waited a few laps to see if it would loosen up on its own.

Starting with the second lap, I used walking breaks to slow my pace down to something that I hoped wouldn’t wear me out.  In the past, I always started my walking breaks at the aid stations.  That way, I didn’t have to resume running immediately after eating or drinking.  The problem with that strategy is that it has me walking on the flattest parts of the course and running on the sections that are rolling.

This year, I tried something different.  Instead of one or two long walking breaks per lap, I took several short ones.  I walked most of the uphill sections and ran where it was either downhill or mostly flat.  In the last two weeks before the race, I did most of my training on the course.  I picked out eight hills that I planned to walk, but there were five other places that could technically be considered to be “hills.”  This course really doesn’t have any big hills, but there are lots of small undulations.

The image below is from one of my training runs.  The areas in blue are the hills that I was walking.  One was so short that it barely shows up in this image.

Besides the hills, there were also two wooden bridges, where we crossed Nine Mile Creek.  Sometimes, I also walked across the bridges.

Finally, I sometimes walked briefly while eating or drinking something from an aid station.

Over the next few laps, I gradually caught my breath.  My left Achilles tendon didn’t feel as tight, but both of my calves felt a little sore.

For the rest of the morning, I was averaging about 20 minutes per lap.  I knew that was still too fast, but I was planning to slow it down as it got warmer.

I was drinking Gatorade at both aid stations and occasionally eating solid food.  That was fine for the morning hours, but as it got warmer, I assumed I would need to increase my fluid intake.  I had an insulated bag at our campsite with several bottles of Gatorade.  If drinking at the two aid stations wasn’t enough, I could also stop at the tent to get a drink of Gatorade.

At noon, I weighed in again.  My weight was half a pound higher than it was before the race.  That surprised me.  I expected my weight to be down slightly.  I assumed that drinking at the two aid stations was enough, for now, and that the extra half pound was attributable to the sub sandwich I had just eaten at the aid station.

Realizing my pace wasn’t sustainable, I made an adjustment to my pacing strategy.  I started taking two additional walking breaks per lap.  I picked two more sections that were slightly uphill.  The sections I chose helped break up my longest periods of running.

The additional walking breaks didn’t slow my pace as much as I thought they would.  I was taking at least 10 walking breaks per lap, but they were all fairly short.  I was still running the majority of the loop.  It felt easy, but it was still too fast.

It was a sunny day, and the sun was now high in the sky.  By 1:00, I was already feeling hot.  I felt a little bit tired, and I had a little bit of soreness in my legs.  That was a bad sign.  I’ve never felt sore or tired this early in a 24-hour race.  Usually, I feel fresh for the first 10 hours, even if I’m going too fast.

My last line of defense against overheating was putting ice in my hat.  My Gatorade bottles were packed in crushed ice.  I stopped at the tent every lap or two and put a handful of crushed ice in my hat.  That’s an amazingly effective way to cool your self down, but it takes some getting use to.  It’s not comfortable, and the first time you do it, it can be a bit disconcerting.

I also added a cooling bandana that had been soaking in ice water.  As the ice in my hat melted, the cold water ran down the back of my next and was absorbed by the bandana.

There were signs around the lake marking various milestones we would hit at different points during the race.  During my 15th lap, I reached the marathon mark.  I got there in 4:56:22.  That’s not as fast as last year, but it was still too fast.

All through the afternoon, I was walking up the same ten hills.  Everywhere else, I ran at a relaxed pace.  I continued drinking Gatorade at the aid stations, but I only stopped to drink at the tent once.  Every few laps, I had some solid food.  Usually, it was a PBJ or some type of bar.  One of the race sponsors was Parkway Pizza, so I had pizza once.  Another sponsor was Jimmy John’s, so I sometimes ate part of a sandwich.

When I weighted in again at 4:00, I fully expected my weight to be down.  It wasn’t.  I was still up half a pound compared to my pre-race weight.  In retrospect, I probably was losing weight, but my wet hat and bandana made me weigh in a little heavier.

The lap counters ring cowbells whenever a runner reaches 50 miles, 100K, or 100 miles.  In my 28th lap, I reached 50 miles.  When I finished that lap, they rang the cowbells for me.

I ran the first 50 miles in 9:56:46.  My primary goal was still to get to 100 miles.  To do that, I just needed to run 50 more miles, and I had 14 hours to do it.

I still felt tired, and I still felt a little sore, but I didn’t feel any worse after ten hours than I did after five hours.  That seemed encouraging, but there were other signs of wear and tear.

I wasn’t drinking as much as I usually do on a hot day, yet I always felt like my stomach was full.  In the late afternoon, the air quality was getting worse.  At one point, I coughed a few times.  When I coughed, I almost threw up.

That sensation of almost throwing up is something I had to fight down three or four times during the race.  I sometimes wanted to skip an aid station, but I didn’t think that would be wise unless I had some evidence that I was overhydrating.

At 6:30, I stopped at the medical tent to do an unscheduled weigh-in.  I was hoping my weight would be up, which would give me justification to occasionally skip an aid station.  My weight was still the same.

My body was giving me mixed signals.  On one hand, I felt like I was overhydrating, because I always felt so full.  On the other hand, I wasn’t peeing as often as I normally do.  I sometimes went three or four hours between bathroom stops.

In the evening, my throat constantly felt irritated.  The sky was hazy, so I assumed it was from the poor air quality.  It didn’t occur to me at the time that I might be getting dehydrated.  I kept expected my weight to drop if I wasn’t drinking enough, and it never did.  At my 8:00 PM weigh-in, my weight was still the same.

Heading into the late evening, I was slowing down substantially.  I was still doing the same proportion of running and walking, but everything was slower now.

After one of my laps, I was met by a friend at the aid station.  My friend, Karen, came out to run a few laps with me.  She also brought some homemade ice cream.  I could only eat a little bit at a time, but it was a nice change of pace from drinking Gatorade every lap.

After the sun went down, I stopped at my tent to get my headlamp.  There were street lamps in a few places, and there were enough battery-powered lamps that it wasn’t too hard to see where the trail was.  Still, there are always shady spots, so it helped to have a headlamp.

While I was running laps with Karen, I reached the 100K mark, but I forgot to record my time.  Shortly after that, I had to do more walking.  There were still three small hills that I was previously running.  Now I was walking every part of the course that was uphill, however short.

After Karen went home, I was running by myself in the dark.  My running had degenerated into a slow shuffle.  My walking was more of a slow stagger.  At times, it seemed like I wasn’t always walking in a straight line.  Some of that was fatigue.  Some of that was stiffness in my muscles.  Some of that may have been disorientation.

It felt much cooler after the sun went down.  I started to feel cold, so I had to stop at the tent to add gloves and a jacket.

There were several Centurion walkers in this race, including six who traveled from Europe.  To be a Centurion, you need to walk 100 miles in 24 hours.  All of these walkers have done this before in other countries, and they came her to earn a Centurion badge in the United States.  Most people slow down as the race progresses, but Centurions are very consistent in their pacing.

Even though I was still doing more running than walking, I was frequently getting passed by the Centurions.  I could no longer run as fast as they were walking.

By midnight I had run more than 72 miles.  I just needed to run 28 more miles, and I had eight hours to do it.  Ghat should’ve been easy, but I wasn’t sure if I could make it.  My pace now was just barely fast enough to get there, and it was gradually getting slower.

After midnight, I adopted a new strategy.  I only ran the downhill sections, and I walked everything else.  On a long flat section, I could walk much faster.  I was now power-walking most of the lap.  That was fast enough, but I didn’t know how long I could sustain it.

Most of my training has been running.  I’ve done hardly any race-walking this year.  Race-walking is good cross-training for running, but running doesn’t prepare you for race-walking.  There’s no substitute for putting in the training, and I haven’t done that lately.

I was able to walk fast, but I quickly started to feel sore across my lower back.  I was using muscles that weren’t trained for this, and they quickly got fatigued.

John was doing the 24-hour walk, but he sometimes took rest breaks.  On one of my laps, I saw John in the tent and asked him if he could walk with me for a few laps.  He had just started a rest break and said he would be starting another lap for about half an hour.

The next time I came by, John was still there.  He was ready to resume walking now, so we walked together for the next four laps.

I stopped running the downhill sections.  While I was with John, we just power-walked the entire lap.  To get to 100 miles, I needed to average about 31 minutes per lap.  For the next two laps, we were about to walk them in about 28 minutes each.  Then I couldn’t keep it up any more.

About halfway through my third lap with John, I slowed down substantially.  I was completely fatigued.  Now I could only walk at a slow pace.  It was no longer fast enough to get to 100 miles.  On top of that, every step was painful.

At 2:00 AM, we both did a weigh-in.  We weren’t actually due to weigh in until 4:00, but we both got confused about the time.  My weight was up a pound since midnight.  I can’t explain that.  I was only drinking once per lap now.

During my last lap with John, the pain got to be too much.  There was still five hours left in the race, but it was no longer possible to reach 100.  If it wasn’t so painful, I would’ve kept moving, but the pain in my lower back was excruciating.  I couldn’t do that for five more hours.

I seemed like it took forever to get back around to the main aid station.  When we got there, I informed the lap counters that I was done, and I turned in my timing chip.  I finished the race with 44 laps, which is 81.6 miles.

From there, I still had to walk the rest of the way back to our tent.  John was planning to take another rest break, but first, he helped me carry a few things to my car.

The temperature had dropped to 59 degrees.  Now that I wasn’t moving, I quickly got cold.  It only took me a few minutes to drive back to my hotel, but my hands were turning white.

I took a quick shower to rinse off the salt and sweat.  Then I dried off and climbed into bed.  I was hoping to take a nap before I needed to drive back to the race.

As I climbed into bed, both feet and one calf muscle started to cramp up.  It took several minutes to find a position that didn’t make my feet cramp.  Then I started to shiver.  I took a few minutes bundled up under warm blankets for the shivering to stop.

I got back to the hotel just in time.  If either of these symptoms hit me while I was still walking around the lake, it would’ve been much worse.

I wasn’t able to get to sleep.  After resting in bed for a couple hours, I forced myself to get up.  I was more stiff than before.  I worked on my calves and hamstrings with a massage stick.  That made a difference.  Now I could get dressed and walk to the car.

Before driving back to the race, I had breakfast at the hotel.  We would have a breakfast after the race, but that wouldn’t be for another two and a half hours.  I was starving, so I needed to eat something right away.  I knew my body chemistry was off, but I figured eating some real food would help restore my electrolyte balance.  I still didn’t feel great, but it helped.

John was still walking, but Betty and I started packing and bringing things to the car.  I was moving in slow motion, but we had plenty of time before the race was over.

When John reached his mileage goal, the three of us took down the tent.  Betty and John waited to see the last few Centurions finish their races.  I started walking to the main aid station to see if there was still some food that would help settle my stomach.  I had some potato chips and a cup of ginger ale.  I think the potato chips helped.  I don’t think I was getting enough electrolytes during thew race.

After the post-race breakfast, there was an awards presentation.  First, they do the top finishers in each category.  Then they do the RRCA awards.  I didn’t win the over 60 title.  There were two men over 60 who ran or walked at least 100 miles.

I also didn’t win a director’s award.  I was expecting to win the award for the fastest first lap, but they were including runners from all races, not just the 24-hour race.  Chris, who did the 12-hour run, beat me to the line by a tiny fraction of a second.

I fell short of all of my goals at this race, but the most frustrating thing is that I’m not entirely sure what went wrong, other than starting too fast.  I know my nutrition was off, but it’s hard to know for sure what happened.  I’ve run in similar conditions before, but my body had never behaved like this before.  I had some symptoms that suggest I was getting dehydrated and wasn’t getting enough salt.  I had other symptoms that were inconsistent with that.

Race statistics:

Distance:  81.6 miles

Official Time:  24 hours

Actual Time Before Stopping:  18:42:53

Average Pace:  13:02 per mile

Lifetime Marathons/Ultras:  546

Minnesota Marathons/Ultras:  106

Lifetime FANS miles:  1360.6

Race Report: 2024 FANS 24-Hour Race

On June 1-2, I ran the FANS 24-Hour Race.  I’ve done this race several times before.  It’s a fixed-time race where you run or walk as far as you can in 24 hours.  Whoever runs the farthest wins.

While I’ve run several other races this year, my training has been focused on FANS for the past several months.  I’ve been gradually building my mileage for more than a year, and I recently started doing training runs of 30+ miles.

The course was a 1.82 mile loop around Normandale Lake in Bloomington, MN.  There were two aid stations.  The main aid station, which was near the bandshell, had the timing/lap counting tent and the main food tent.  On the opposite side of the lake, there was a secondary aid station with water, Gatorade, and a limited amount of food.

On the west side of the lake, there was an area where we could set up tents to store our gear.  The weather can change during a 24-hour race, so it’s nice to have a place where you can change into different clothes, if necessary.  It’s also nice to have a place where your crew can get out of the sun (or take shelter from the rain).  I didn’t have a crew, but I was sharing a tent with my sister, Betty, and her husband, John.  John was doing the race as a walker.  Betty, as usual, was volunteering as a lap counter.

The tent area was across the street from a large parking lot, making it easy to bring our gear from the car to the tent area.

There was also a medical tent set up in the middle of the tent area.  This made it easy for us to check in before the race.  In the past, everyone needed to weigh in before the race, and there were also mandatory weigh-ins every four hours.  This year, the weigh-ins were optional.

There were two methods of lap counting.  The primary method was chip timing.  We each wore a chip on an ankle strap, and there was a timing mat that we crossed each time we finished a lap.  As a backup method, there were also volunteers at the finish line who counted our laps manually.

The last time I did the 24-hour race was two years ago.  At the time, I was barely in good enough shape run a 4-hour marathon.  I signed up just a few weeks before the race.  I had not done any specific training for the race.  I went into it with only the marathon training I had been doing.  Despite my lack of training, I managed to run 101.3 miles and win the over 60 age group.

This year, I’m in much better shape, so I expected to be able to run farther.  How much farther was a good question.  My all-time PR for a 24-hour race is 124.81 miles.  I did that when I was 46 years old.  I’m 63 now.  Back then, my average training pace was about eight minutes per mile, and I could run a marathon in 3:07.  Today, my average training pace is about ten minutes per mile, and I can run a marathon in 3:39.  Do the math.  It just didn’t seem realistic that I could run as far now as I did then.

Those two past results framed my expectations.  It seemed like I should be able to do more than 101.3 miles, but not as much as my PR of 124.81.  I expected I most likely could do somewhere between 110 and 120 miles.

One of the first running books I ever bought was the New Competitive Runner’s Handbook.  The authors of this book advocate setting three goals for every race.  The first goal is called the achievable goal.  This is something you know you can do.  My achievable goal for this race was to run at least 100 miles.  I assumed if I did that, I would also win my age group.  There aren’t a lot of 60-year-old men who can run 100 miles in 24-hours.

The next goal is called the challenging goal.  That’s a goal that’s realistic, but would take a good race.  My challenging goal was to run at least 180 kilometers (111.87 miles).  That’s one of the qualifying standards for a race in Greece called the Spartathlon.  I was hoping to qualify in this race.

The third goal is called the ultimate goal.  This is a goal that may or may not be realistic.  It’s something you can stretch for if you’re having a really good day.  My ultimate goal was to win the race.  I wasn’t going to aim for that from the beginning, but it’s something I would keep in mind if things were going really well.

It’s worth noting that I’ve never won a 24-hour race.  I tried to win this race a few times when I was in my 40s.  I could never put it all together for the entire 24 hours.  I always had a bad patch or made mistakes.  On top of that, there was always at least one runner who was out of my league.  The best I ever did was a second-place finish in 2007.

I wouldn’t normally set that as one of my goals, but when I looked at who was signed up, I didn’t see any elite ultrarunners from out of state.  One of the local women was a former winner who I expected to beat all of the men this year.  She was capable of high 120s, but it seemed like this might be the rare year when something in the range of 110-120 might be enough to win the men’s race.

We had the option of picking up our race packets on Friday, or waiting until Saturday morning.  I opted to pick up my race packet on Friday.  The single digit bib numbers were given to runners with the most lifetime FANS miles.  My bib number was 5.  I’ve never had a lower number for a race of any distance.

The race packet also included a T-shirt, a pair of socks, two packets of maple syrup, a list of all the participants, and a medal.  In a fixed-time race, there’s no such thing as not finishing, provided you run at least one lap.  To keep things simple, they give us the medal at packet pickup.

I got up early on Saturday, so I could get to the lake by 6:00.  That’s the earliest that we could start setting up tents.  Betty and John met me there.  We’ve set up our tent in the same spot the last two years, and we wanted to get there before anyone else set up, so we could get our usual campsite.

It rained for most of the night.  By the time we arrived at the lake, the rain had stopped.  The grass was wet, but it wasn’t raining while we set up.  That was a huge relief.  Once the tent was up, we had a dry place to store our gear.  After setting up our tent and unloading the rest of our gear, we had time to relax until it was time to check in and collect our timing chips.

Weighing in was optional, but I chose to do a pre-race weigh-in, so I could track my weight changes during the race.  I’ve found the periodic weigh-ins to be helpful, so I know if I’m drinking the right amount to stay fully hydrated.

As it got closer to the start, I walked over to the main aid station to meet my lap counter.  Because I had a low bib number my lap counter was the shift leader.  He was someone I knew from previous years.

The race started at 8:00 AM on Saturday.  Our starting line for the first lap was in a different place from where we would finish each lap.  Instead of doing a full 1.82-mile lap, our first lap was only 1.68 miles.  The purpose of making the first lap a different distance was to have the 100-mile mark be right at the end of our 55th lap.

My first lap was the only one that didn’t include a walking break.  I just ran the whole way.  There were about 20 runners who went out at a faster pace on that lap.  I didn’t try to keep up with them, but I still felt like I was starting faster than I usually do.  It’s possible I had too much pent-up energy.  I hadn’t done any running since Wednesday.

As I started my second lap, I slowed to a pace that felt much more relaxed.  I also started taking walking breaks.  Early in the race, I took one walking break per lap.  I ran until I reached aid station #2 (the one on the far side of the lake).  After pausing for a few seconds to get something to drink, I would begin walking.  I walked roughly 600 meters, which took me through a long flat section and to the top of a small hill.  Then I resumed running.

The distance I was walking wasn’t much more than a fifth of the loop.  That’s an ambitious ratio of running to walking.  My plan was to have a faster overall pace in the morning hours, to give myself room to slow down as it warmed up.  I fully expected to start taking longer walking breaks in the afternoon.

I was expecting a warm day.  The temperature was 60 when we started running, but it was forecast to get up to 79 in the late afternoon.  I’m not sure if it actually got that hot.

Early in the race, I felt like I was on cruise control.  My overall pace was easy enough that I didn’t feel like I was working too hard.  In fact, I was going at an ambitious pace.  One of the insidious things about a 24-hour race is that a pace that’s way too fast will still feel easy for several hours.  It catches up with you later.

On one of my laps, I caught up with John.  I was walking faster than he was, and I asked him if he could pick up his pace, so he could walk together.  John was only able to keep up with me for a few minutes.  John walks at a brisk pace, so that should’ve been a clue that I was walking too fast.

In the months leading up to the race, I did several long training runs that ranged from 31.5 to 36.4 miles.  In those training runs, I paced myself just like I planned to pace myself in the race.  When I took walking breaks, I walked at a somewhat brisk pace, but I was always careful not to walk too fast.  On race day, that discipline went out the window.  I was putting too much energy into my walking.

In the past, I’ve often set a target pace and varied the length of my walking breaks to stay on that pace.  This time, I was trying something different.  I was going more by feel.  I was planning to keep my effort uniform and let my pace vary according to the conditions.  I expected it to get hot in the afternoon and then cool down at night.  My hope was if I throttled back my pace enough during the day, I would have the energy to make a big push during the night, after it cooled down.

While I was walking with John, he observed that I was averaging less than 20 minutes per lap, and he questioned whether I was going too fast.  I was going faster than the pace of my training runs, but I wasn’t too concerned.  I still expected to slow down in the afternoon.

I started out drinking a cup of Gatorade at each aid station.  Sometimes, I would also have a small bite of solid food, such as a cookie.  My expectation is that I would need to increase my fluid intake in the afternoon.

I brought a cooler with several bottled of Gatorade.  If drinking at the two aid stations wasn’t enough, I could also take a drink of Gatorade each time I went by our tent.

At noon, I did my first weigh-in.  My weight was up a pound and a half.  Apparently, just drinking Gatorade at the two aid stations was too much.  It’s worth noting that we had cloud cover and a nice breeze off the lake.  The morning hours were cool and comfortable.

Ordinarily, the increase in weight would be a signal to cut back on fluid intake, but I was anticipating warmer temperatures in the afternoon.  I kept drinking at both aid stations, but I never started drinking Gatorade at the tent.

There were signs in different places around the course to let us know when we reached certain milestones, like a marathon, 50K, 50 miles, or 100K.  During my 15th lap, I passed the marathon mark.  I got there in 4:32.  That’s faster than I expected.  I knew I’d get there in less than five hours, but I should’ve realized my average pace so far was too fast.  I was averaging about 10:30 per mile.

Shortly after noon, the sun came out.  I didn’t feel hot yet, but I assumed I would as the afternoon progressed.  I expected to lengthen my walking breaks to about 800 meters, but I was waiting until I started to feel hot.

I felt a certain reluctance to add that extra 200 meters of walking, because about two thirds of it was a nice gentle downhill section.  It was easy to run that section, so it seemed wasteful to make it part of my walking break.  A different way to increase my walking would be to start walking all the hills.  I planned to do that during the night, but I wanted to hold that in reserve for psychological reasons.  Instead, I kept running more than three quarters of the loop.  That eventually wore me down.

I had a cooling bandana that I had soaked in water.  At 1 PM, I put it around my neck.  The bandana had been packed in my cooler, which was full of ice.  Wearing that kept me feeling cool for the next few laps.

Three laps after the marathon mark, I reached the 50K sign.  I got there in 5:25.  I never gave any thought to what my 50K split should be.  If I had, I would’ve realized I was still going too fast.

I was in my 20th lap when I started to feel some soreness in my lower back.  I felt that during my walking break.  My longest training run had been 20 laps on this same course, but I never felt similar discomfort then.  That’s when I finally realized that I was walking at a pace that was too aggressive.

My bandana eventually got dry, so I started putting ice cubes in my hat.  The first time I did that was after my 21st lap.  The ice cubes would melt on the top of my head, which kept me cool.  As they melted, the ice water would run down my neck and get soaked up by the bandana.  That kept it cold and wet.

The ice would eventually melt, but it took about two laps.  I began adding new ice cubes after each odd-numbered lap.

The measures I was taking to cool myself were so effective that I never felt hot.  It’s perhaps for that reason that I never felt the need to start taking longer walking breaks.  All afternoon, I kept walking just 600 meters out of each 1.82-mile loop.

Because I wasn’t drinking as much Gatorade as I thought I would, I was concerned about taking in enough calories.  Roughly every other lap, I had something to eat.  My go-to food was a PBJ, but they didn’t always have them at the aid station.  One of the sponsors was Subway, so they sometimes had sub sandwiches cut into small pieces.  Another sponsor was Parkway Pizza.  A couple times during the race, pizza was delivered.

At 3:30, I saw that there was pizza at the aid station.  I wasn’t expecting it that early in the day.  They usually do the first delivery closer to dinner time.  The pizzas were cut into squares, but the squares were still large for an aid station snack.  I picked up a piece of cheese pizza and some Gatorade to wash it down.  I could only eat it so fast, so I had to walk for a few minutes.

I weighed in again at 4 PM.  My weight was up another pound and a half, for a total of three pounds.  Some of the weight gain may have been my wet bandana, and the weight of my wet clothes.  Still, I couldn’t ignore this any longer.  I cut back to only drinking at one of the aid stations.  To compensate for getting fewer calories from Gatorade, I made a point of eating something at the other aid station.  Sometimes it was just a small slice of a candy bar, but I always ate something.

Whenever someone reached 50 miles, 100K or 100 miles, the lap counters would ring a cowbell.  During my 28th lap, I reached the 50-mile mark.  I got there in 9:10.  Betty was my lap counter for the 2 PM to 8 PM shift.  When I finished that lap, Betty rang the cowbell for me.  You’d be surprised how important little things like that can be when you’re running for this many hours.

I had a small supply of Gu packets that I had brought from home, but I also had the two maple syrup packets from my race packet.  As I started my next lap, I stopped briefly at the tent to have one of the maple syrup packets.  It was a treat to celebrate getting to 50 miles, but it was also a source of extra calories.

I was due to add ice cubes to my hat on that lap, but I got distracted and forgot.  I waited until the next lap instead.  That would end up being the last time I added ice.  I no longer felt like I was in any danger of getting hot.

In the late afternoon and evening, I gradually slowed down.  It wasn’t a conscious decision.  I was running by feel.  I always ran at a pace that felt comfortable.  The pace that felt comfortable now was slower than the pace that felt comfortable earlier.  My walking also wasn’t as fast.  As I started to get fatigued, my running and walking gaits both got less efficient.  The same effort translated into a slower pace.

As I got more and more fatigued, I found myself needing to focus on intermediate milestones.  The next milestone I could think of was 30 laps, just because it was a round number.  Then I looked forward to 31 laps.  To reach my goal of 180K, I needed to run 61 laps, plus an extra mile.  At 31 laps, I was halfway there.

The next intermediate milestone was 100K, which wouldn’t come until my 35th lap.  I got there in 11:44.  At the end of that lap, the lap counters rang the cowbell again.  When I got back to my tent, I celebrated with another maple syrup packet.

By 8 PM, I had run 63.1 miles.  My all-time PR is 124.8, so I was on pace to break it.  I knew that wasn’t actually going to happen.  I had already slowed down substantially since the morning hours, and that was only going to get worse.

It was time for my next weigh-in.  My weight was back to where it started.  It was going to be much cooler during the night, and I have a history of overhydrating during the night.  I occasionally drank at both aid station, but on most laps, I continued only drinking at one.

The course had a few flat sections, but the rest of the course was rolling.  There weren’t any hills that were long or steep, but there were lots of small undulations.  At some point, these small hills started to get tiring.  I started walking all the hills.  I was still walking the same 600-meter segment as before, so I was now doing roughly twice as much walking.  Never having to run uphill made it easier to continue running.  Having the long walking break starting at aid station 2 gave me a needed rest break.  If I had started doing this eight hours earlier, it would’ve been a different race.  Instead, I was already struggling.

The next time I got to my tent, I stopped to put on my headlamp.  I didn’t need it yet, but the sun would set before I finished another lap.  I also removed my hat, bandana, and sunglasses.

For the next lap, there was still enough light to see clearly.  It was cooling off, though.  I stopped at the tent again to put on a pair of gloves.

By now, the sun was setting, but there was still enough light to see.  Halfway through my next lap, it finally got dark enough that I needed to turn on my headlamp.

My original plan called for going easy during the afternoon hours, so I could make a big push during the night.  I usually feel sluggish between midnight and 4 AM.  To combat that, I brought a selection of Gu packets.  All of the flavors I brought had caffeine.  My plan was to eat one per hour, starting at 10 PM.

At this point, my race plan had already gone south.  I wasn’t going to have the energy to make a big push during the night.  Instead, I was already in survival mode.  I questioned the value of taking that much caffeine.  Each Gu packet had either 35 or 40 mg., and I brought six of them.

I took a Gu packet at 9:30 that had 40 mg. of caffeine.  At the time, I thought I would take another at midnight.  After that, I wasn’t sure.

Already, every lap was a struggle.  On top of that, the nighttime hours are always difficult.  I was almost to the point where I could get to 100 miles just by walking the rest of the way, but I didn’t want to give up on 180K.  That had been my primary goal.  Getting there, however, was going to mean 11 more hours of dragging myself through painful, difficult laps.

I started to question why that goal was even important to me.  Running 180K in a 24-hour race is a qualifying standard for the Spartathlon, which is a hilly 150-mile race with a 36-hour time limit.   Qualifying was only important if I was going to try to get into that race, and I was starting to question that.  Nothing about my race experience at FANS this year led me to believe I could finish that race, and I wasn’t going to travel overseas to a race if I wasn’t confident that I could finish.  Still, I clung to that goal as long as it was within reach.

For more that forty years, I’ve been logging my daily mileage.  In an overnight race, I pay attention to where I am at midnight, so I know how many miles I ran on Saturday and how many I ran on Sunday.  At some point, I realized I could probably complete two more laps before midnight, but I needed to pick up the pace a little.  For two laps, I walked the hills, but I didn’t walk the flat section after aid station 2.

By midnight I had already logged 80.25 miles.  At the pace of my most recent lap, I might be able to get to 180K, but it was close.  That lap had less walking.  I only walked the hills.  I couldn’t keep that up for the rest of the race.  I also didn’t need to stop for anything during that lap.  Most laps would include bathroom stops or other small delays.  Realistically, I couldn’t sustain a pace that would get me to 180K.  I might get close, but I wouldn’t quite get there.

I couldn’t get to 180K, but I could get to 100 miles easily.  I could walk casually for the rest of the race.  Instead, I continued to walk all the hills and I went back to power walking the same segment I had been walking since the beginning of the race.  I would get to 100 miles and then get in as many additional miles as I could.

At my midnight weigh-in, my weight was still the same.  I continued to only drink at one of the aid stations.  Often, the Gatorade cups were so full that I didn’t feel I could drink that much.  I looked for ways to get a little bit of liquid, without drinking too much at once.  After one of my laps, I had a cup of cream of potato soup.

I had originally planned to take another caffeinated gel at midnight, but I changed my mind.  I had been making frequent bathroom stops.  Was the caffeine to blame?  I don’t usually take caffeine during a race, and this was why.

For most of the race, I didn’t know where I stood in the overall standings.  The woman who I expected to win was way out in front.  For the first half of the race, she was on pace for a course record.  I didn’t know, however, if any of the men were ahead of me.  I learned from John that I was leading the men’s race at 8 PM, but I had no idea if I had lost the lead since then.

As I was nearing the end of my 48th lap, I saw a runner go by who had already passed me at least once.  As it turns out, he had passed me several times.  I finish my lap just after he finished his.  I asked the lap counters.  He had already run 52 laps.

Now that I knew for sure that I wasn’t a contender to win the men’s race, I had no incentive to push too hard.  For the rest of the race, I only ran the downhill sections.  I walked everything else.

I still needed seven more laps to get to 100 miles.  Anything over six laps seemed like a long way.  When I only needed six laps, it seemed more manageable.  I had done several training runs on this course, and I usually ran six laps.

There was one more intermediate goal before 100 miles.  There was a sign marking 150K.  I would reach that early in my 52nd lap.  I got there in 19:22.  After that, I just needed to finish that lap and three more to get to 100 miles.

On my next lap, I saw the moon over the lake.  It rose about an hour earlier.  Now it was a reddish crescent.  It was just high enough in the sky to be visible above the trees.

I was surprised to be able to see clouds.  Astronomical twilight wasn’t until 4:00, but I was noticing clouds an hour before that.  I didn’t think there was enough moonlight to illuminate the clouds.  The only other explanation I could think of was urban light pollution.

Late in the race, I was peeing excessively.  Sometimes, I could make it a lap and a half before stopping.  Sometimes I could only make it a lap.  On one lap, I had to stop twice.  I didn’t wait until 4:00 AM to do my last weigh-in.   I weighed in a little early.

I assumed I must be overhydrating.  Why else was I peeing so often?  I fully expected my weight to be up.  It wasn’t.  It was down a pound.

By now, I was hardly drinking at all.  Sometimes, I would go two consecutive laps without drinking.  The weight loss made sense.  What I couldn’t understand was why I was peeing so often.  It had been several hours since I had that caffeinated gel, but 40 mg. is a large dose.  Was that still affecting me?

Each lap was now an ordeal.  I got through my 53rd lap and my 54th, but I was doing less and less running.  By now, I wasn’t even running all the downhill sections.  My running wasn’t much faster than my walking, but it allowed me to briefly use different muscles.  That was really my only motivation to run at all.  It wasn’t much faster than my walking pace, and it felt jarring when I ran down a hill.

I just needed one more lap to get to 100 miles.  The temperature had been dropping all night, and I was no longer moving fast enough to stay warm.  For most of the night, I felt cold, but I could put up with it.  Now, I wanted to put on a jacket.

John typically walks for a couple hours and then takes a rest break.  Before starting again, he’ll change into a dry pair of shoes and socks.  That’s his way of coping with hot weather without getting blisters.  As I reached the tent, I didn’t know if John was out on a lap or if he was trying to take a nap.  I didn’t want to risk waking him, so I waited another lap before going into the tent to get my jacket.

I just needed one more lap to get to 100 miles.  I figured I could cope with being cold for one more lap.  After I reached 100 miles, I would stop to put on a jacket.  I would still have time to do a few more laps, but I planned to stop running and just do casual walking instead of power walking.  As it turns out, waiting to put on a jacket was a mistake.

I planned to power walk most of the lap.  Already, I was only running the downhill sections.  On this lap, I only ran the two downhill sections that were steep enough to be uncomfortable for walking.  That was another mistake.  I wasn’t going fast enough to keep warm.

My recollection is a little fuzzy, but I think I was doing OK as far as aid station 2.  I usually slowed down while crossing the footbridge over Nine Mile Creek.  After the bridge, I tried to speed up, but I couldn’t.  There was no power in my power walk.  At the time, I didn’t understand what was happening.  In retrospect, I think I was too cold for too long, and the blood vessels in my legs started to constrict.  That’s a problem I have.  After that, my legs just wouldn’t work right.  There wasn’t enough blood getting to my muscles.  There’s a medication I take that helps with this condition.  I normally take it with dinner, but I didn’t have any pills with me during the race.  Add that to the mistakes I made.

I managed to walk the rest of that lap, but it was slow and difficult.  I knew when I finished this lap, I would be done for the day.  I finished the lap in 21:13:24, giving me exactly 100 miles.

I turned in my timing chip and slowly walked back to our tent.  I still had more than two and a half hours, but I couldn’t go on.  I needed to change into warm clothes so I could recover.

I put on a warm pair of wind pants, and I changed into dry shoes and socks.  I was going to put on my Tyvek jacket, but then I remembered that I had a warmer jacket in the tent.  It was a rainproof jacket that I had brought in case we had to set up in the rain.

John had a cold, so he wasn’t inclined to push himself too hard.  His goal was to walk his age in miles.  About 20 minutes after I finished my last lap, John finished the lap that brought him to his goal.  Then he also turned in his timing chip.

Because we both finished early, we had lots of time to take down our tent and bring everything back to the car.  That’s a luxury we don’t usually have.  I couldn’t move very fast, so I needed the extra time.

Even with the warm clothes I was wearing, my hands started to get numb.  I was wearing gloves, but underneath them my fingers were probably turning white.  After bringing a few things to the car, I got in and started the engine so I could turn the heat on.  I put my hands in front of the heat vents until my hands warmed up again.

We were all packet up an hour before the race finished.  Betty brought John back to their hotel, so John could take a nap.  I walked back to the finish area and waited for the post-race breakfast and awards ceremony.

They started the ceremony by recognizing the sponsors and volunteers.  Then a few of the FANS students spoke.  The first awards were for the RRCA state championships.  My 100 miles was enough to win the championship for men over 60.  It’s the second time in three years that I’ve won this award.  I didn’t reach my more ambitious goals, but at least I reached my attainable goal.

When they did the overall awards, I discovered that I could’ve placed second among the men if I just did one more lap.  If I had changed into warmer clothes, I'm sure I could’ve done that.  As it was, I was in no shape to continue, even for one more lap.

Anyone who runs or walks at least 100 miles gets a sweatshirt.  The sleeve says, “100 Miles in 24 Hours.”  This was the eighth time I ran or walked at least 100 miles at FANS, so I have several of these shirts.

After the race, I was unusually sleepy.  That may be because I had so much time to wind down after I stopped running.  I had trouble staying awake during the awards ceremony.

When I got home, Deb helped me unload a few things from the car.  I needed to take a bath, but I struggled to keep from falling asleep in the tub.  After that, I tried to take a nap, but I couldn’t get to sleep.  It wasn’t until later in the day that I could think clearly.

All day Sunday, I was making trips to the bathroom, even though I wasn’t drinking that much.  When I woke up on Monday, I weighed myself.  I was four pounds lighter than I was on Saturday morning.  I probably metabolized a pound of fat during the race, but the rest of the weight loss was water.  I felt dehydrated.

It’s been more than a day since I finished the race, so I’ve had time to think about what went wrong.  For starters, the next time I do a race like this, I need to go back to having a target pace and sticking to it.  Going by feel doesn’t work.  It’s too easy to go too fast and not realize it until it’s too late.

I’m also going to go back to avoiding caffeine during overnight races.  I’m pretty sure it was that one large dose of caffeine that was causing me to pee so often.  That made it hard to know if I was hydrating properly.  This is why you shouldn’t try something new on race day.

Immediately after the race, I was feeling pessimistic about doing other long ultras.  Feeling like a train wreck for half the race can make you question why you would want to do this again.  I probably will do other long ultras, but next time I need a better plan.

Race statistics:

Distance:  100 miles

Official Time:  24 hours

Actual Time on Course:  21:13:24

Average Pace:  12:44 per mile

Lifetime Marathons/Ultras:  514

Minnesota Marathons/Ultras:  96

Lifetime 100s:  15

Lifetime FANS Miles:  1279