Race Report: 2026 Native Jackal Trail Marathon

On June 17, I ran the Native Jackal Trail Marathon.  This was the last of the Jackal Marathons.  The first four marathons in this series all have the potential to be difficult, depending on the weather.  This one is much tougher.  This race can make you cry.

The course was 10 laps of a loop through Chickasaw State Park.  The loop is about 40 percent road and 60 percent trail.  The road portion includes a long gradual hill that most people have to walk.  The trail portion includes four steep climbs.

The loop is advertised as 2.65 miles.  I suspect it’s longer.  Maybe it doesn’t matter.  The difficulty can’t really be measured in miles.  All I knew for sure is this race has much more elevation change than the other ones.

My previous impression of this race was definitely influenced by the fact that the heat index got up to 109 degrees last year.  Also, I was constantly tormented by deer flies.  Last year, I had multiple bites on each lap.  This year, I had a better experience.

This race venue was the farthest from my hotel in Jackson.  It was a 40-minute drive.  This race also had the latest start time.  It didn’t start until 8:30 AM.

Fifteen runners signed up to do all five races.  All 15 finished the first four and were at the start for day five.  All 15 of us finished.

People have wondered why this race starts so much later than the others.  The park opens at 7:00, so we’re not waiting for the park to open.  Personally, I think it’s so we all have time to reflect on whatever poor life choices led us to be here.

I was pleased to see that it didn’t rain overnight.  We didn’t have to contend with muddy trails.  That was a relief.

When I arrived at the race venue, the temperature was 67 degrees.  By the time the race started, it had cooled off to 66.  That’s much cooler than I was expecting.  There was also a nice cool breeze.  That gave me hope that I could keep up a good pace in the early laps.

The forecast high was 91, with a heat index of 98.  Because of the later start, I knew I would still have a few laps to go when we reached the hottest temperature of the day.  It wasn’t as hot as last year, but it still got pretty hot.

The time limit was 8:30.  Last year, it took me 8:17.  So far, I had been slower this year in every race of this series.  I didn’t want to be slower in this one.  I knew the time limit was just a guideline, but I really didn’t want to be on the course after 5 PM.  I also didn’t want people to be waiting for me to finish.

The start/finish area was at one end of a parking lot.  As we left the parking lot, we ran up a short hill.  I always had to walk that.  After coming back downhill, we had about a quarter-mile of mixed terrain.  I usually made good progress there.

Next, we got onto another road.  We ran by one end of a lake and then started a long gradual climb.  I could run some of it, but I always had to walk most of it.

After reaching the top, we turned left and started running downhill, but only briefly.  Then we left the road to get onto the trail.  The rest of the loop was on a narrow trail with several steep climbs.

Each steep climb was eventually followed by a long gradual descent.  Those were the easiest places to run.

After the second steep climb, we descended all the way to lake level and came out next to the lake.

There were a few bridges, as well as two stream crossings without bridges.

The four steepest climbs were tiring, even though I was walking.  The last climb had logs built into it to form steps.  Last year, I tripped on one of the logs and tweaked my lower back.  This year, I was more careful about that.

The last part of the loop was a descent that finished with a set of steps, leading back down to the parking lot.

Each time I came into the parking lot, I had to do three things.  First, I needed to make sure my lap was recorded.  Next, I needed to reapply bug spray.  I did that every single lap, in hope that the deer flies would leave me alone.  Finally, I needed to refill my bottle.

The first time I entered the forest, I no longer felt the breeze.  Instead, I immediately felt the humidity.  It felt much warmer on the trails than it did out on the road.

It was much easier to avoid roots on this course.  On the climbs, the roots formed natural steps.  Most of the descents and flat sections had very few roots.  There were a few gnarly sections, but those roots were easy to see.

Having run on this course before, it only took one lap to reacquaint myself with the course.  On my first lap, I recognized all the major landmarks as I reached them.  By my second lap, I could remember what was coming.  Familiarity made the trail feel easier this year.

There were a few new features this year.  Recent storms had taken down some trees.  In a few places, we had to step over trees that were across the trail.

For the first few laps, I was on pace to finish in 7:30.  As it got warmer, my pace slowed, but not dramatically.

In my fourth lap, I tripped on a root and fell.  That was the first time I’ve fallen on this course.  I landed on a bed of pine needles.  I wasn’t hurt, but I scraped my elbow.

As it got hotter, I needed to do one more thing before starting each lap.  I had to put crushed ice in my hat.  I started doing that at the beginning of lap 5.  I also used some of the ice to clean the scrape on my elbow.

During my fifth lap, I had an awkward step with my left foot, and I turned my left ankle.  That caused me to go off the side of the trail.  I had to grab a tree to keep my balance.

I also turned that same ankle on day one.  I didn’t injure it, but after that, the uneven footing often made my ankle sore.

When I finished my fifth lap, I was half done with the race.  At this point, I was on pace for a time in the 7:30s, but subsequent laps were a little slower.

I was never bitten by any flies.  Maybe my bug spray was working.  Maybe the flies just weren’t as bad this year.  I talked to other runners who also weren’t getting bit.  I took no chances.  I continued to reapply bug spray every lap.

For a couple laps, I was the last runner on the course.  Then I caught up to Mike, who was running his 500th marathon.  I ran the last three laps with Mike, which made them seem easier.

With three laps to go, it was obvious I would beat my time from last year.  After thinking about it some more, I realized it was also obvious I would finish in less than eight hours.  That took the pressure off.

Running with Mike in the last few laps, I relaxed a little.  I didn’t work as hard to run everywhere I could.  We still ran the easy descents, but we walked some sections that we probably could have run.

Before we finished, it had warmed up about 25 degrees.  Somehow, it didn’t bother me too much.  I had still one other thing I could do to try to cool myself.  I had a cooling bandana that was soaking in ice water.  It’s effective in cooling me down, but only until my body heat warms it up.  Since its effect is only temporary, I waited until the last lap before putting it on.  I did the same thing in Tuesday’s race.

The bandana felt good when the wind was hitting it.  By the time we reached the trail section of the course, the bandana was already warming up.  After that, it was just extra weight.

On our last lap, I was counting down the remaining steep hills.  When we were on the last hill, Mike said he was going to hang back.  I continued at my own pace.  When I finished, I told everyone Mike was coming.  They were all waiting to congratulate him on finishing his 500th marathon.

I finished in 7:50:01.  I was 27 minutes faster than last year.  In addition to my medal, I received a belt buckle for running all five Jackal marathons.  I’ve done that twice now.

There was still one other runner on the course, but he finished a few minutes after Mike.  Later, several of us went to dinner together in Jackson.

Would I do this series again?  Only if my fitness improves.  I need to be confident that I won’t be bumping up against time limits.  If I do return, I would probably wait until the last minute to sign up.  I would want to know what the weather was going to be like. 

Race statistics:

Distance:  26.2 miles

Time:  7:50:01

Average Pace:  17:56 per mile

First Half:  3:48:01

Second Half:  4:02:00

Marathons/Ultras in 2026:  20

Lifetime Marathons/Ultras:  592

Jackal Marathons:  10

Race Report: 2026 Dragonfly Jackal Marathon

Today was day four of the Jackal Marathons.  Today’s race was the Dragonfly Jackal Marathon.  It was the same course as yesterday, nine laps of a paved loop through Pinson Mounds State Park.  There are a lot of dragonflies in the park.

The temperature at the start was in the mid-60s.  That’s about the same as yesterday.  Today, it warmed up faster, getting into the 80s.  It was another sunny day.

My goal was to finish within six hours.  Yesterday, I did that by a wide margin, but I knew it would get hotter today.

There’s a small hill near the beginning of the loop, where we left the parking lot.  Yesterday, I walked this hill in eight of the nine laps.  Today, I walked it in every lap.

In my first lap, I got out of breath just walking up that hill.  That didn’t happen in subsequent laps.  I think it had to do with not being warmed up yet.

As soon as the road leveled out, I was able to run comfortably.  After that, I only walked in one other place.  That was a small rise that comes late in the loop.  Everywhere else, I ran.

My pace in the first lap was about 30 seconds per mile faster than yesterday.  By my second lap, my pace was about the same as yesterday.  By the fourth lap, my pace was already deteriorating.

Yesterday, I waited until the last two laps before starting to put crushed ice in my hat.  Today it warmed up quicker, and I started putting ice in my hat on the fourth lap.

I once again had to negotiate with myself about when to start taking more walking breaks.  At first, I thought I would need to do that beginning with the fourth lap.  Then I thought it would be at 13 miles, which came about halfway through my fifth lap.  When I got to 13, I walked just long enough to drink some Gatorade.  Then I started running again.  I was on autopilot.  In lap six, I finally had to start walking more.

Each lap was a little less than three miles.  The first mile was the easiest mile.  This mile had a nice downhill section.  That section was also shady.  It was easy to get through this mile without extra walking.

The second mile was gradually uphill.  It had a mixture of sun and shade.  In the middle laps, this was the only mile that felt unusually tiring.  It was here that I started to walk.

At first, I had two rules.  I had to keep my walking breaks short, and then I needed to run at least twice as far as I walked.  Often, I ran three times as far.

Before the end of that lap, I added a third rule: no walking in the sun.  That rule was a carryover from last year, when it was much hotter.

Last year, the pavement was heating up in the sun.  By the middle of the race, I could feel the heat rising from the hot pavement.  The pavement was only hot where it was sunny, so taking a walking break in a sunny area meant spending more time on the hot pavement.

This year, the pavement wasn’t getting hot, but I still felt hottest when I was in the sun.  For that reason, it still made sense to avoid spending extra time in the sun.

If there was a long stretch that was shady, I didn’t walk the whole thing.  I only walked as much as I needed to walk.  If there was a long sunny stretch, I forced myself to run all of it.

The last mile of the loop only had one short hill.  The rest was either downhill or flat.  This mile, however, was almost all out in the sun.  There were a couple places where the course crossed through a line of trees.  Those were the only shady spots, but the shade was brief.

I stuck to my “walk the shade, run the sun” rule through that entire mile, even though it meant running almost the entire mile.

In that last mile, there was a building with bathrooms.  The bathrooms were air conditioned.  I made a bathroom stop in that lap, and I immediately noticed how much cooler it was inside.  I had to resist the temptation to linger.  I didn’t stay indoors any longer than I needed.

When I finished that lap, I put more ice in my hat, as usual.  Then I checked my time.  That lap took 40 minutes.  That was slower than any of my earlier laps, but it was reasonable.  I was still keeping a faster pace than I would need to finish in six hours.

When I reached the middle mile of lap seven, I needed to do more walking.  I revised my rules for walking.  Now, I just had two rules.  I had to run more than I walked, and no walking in the sun.

After that lap, I checked my time again.  That lap also took 40 minutes, even though I walked more.  That was a pleasant surprise.  In retrospect, it’s probably because the previous lap included a bathroom stop.

In lap eight, I was more willing to take long walking breaks in the shade.  In the middle mile of that lap, I walked everything that was shady.  On the long sunny stretches, I sometimes looked for trees that were casting shadows across the course.  I would walk briefly while I was in the shadow and resume running on the other side.

With more walking, that lap was slower, but only by a minute and a half.  As I started my last lap, I could walk almost the entire lap and still break six hours.  I didn’t.

There’s a reason why it was important to me to break six hours.  I’ve never taken six hours to finish a marathon that was on pavement or gravel.  I’ve been slower than six hours eight times in my life.  Every one of those races had a significant trail component.

I took two walking breaks in the first mile of that lap.  I walked the hill coming out of the parking lot, and I walked another short hill.  After that, I run the rest of that mile.

I was just getting to the end of that mile when another runner passed me.  We had been leapfrogging at different times during the race.  As he ran by me, I knew I wouldn’t catch up to him again.  I was just getting to the section where I planned to mostly walk.  At the time, I thought that meant I would finish last.  I was OK with that.  All I cared about was breaking six hours.  At this point, I could easily do that by walking the rest of the way.

I walked every shady section, and I sometimes walked briefly even where it was sunny.  The real test of my resolve came in the last mile.

When my watch read “25,” I took my last drink of Gatorade and checked my time.  If I walked the rest of the way, I would have a time in the 5:50s.  If I ran enough, I would have a time in the 5:40s.  I decided I would rather have a time in the 5:40s.

In the last mile, I stuck to the “walk the shade, run the sun” rule, even though almost all of that mile is sunny.

When I got to the last place where the course crosses through some trees, I relished my last walking break.  Then I ran the rest of the way.  It helped that this last section was all either flat or downhill.

I finished in 5:43:58.  I thought I was last.  As it turns out, there was still one other runner on the course.  I was still in the finish area when he finished.

In addition to our finisher medals, everyone got a hat today.  They did this last year too, but it was on the second day.  I had forgotten about it.  I had a choice of colors.  Last year, I got a black hat, so this year, I chose a red and white hat.

The runner who came in behind me ran negative splits today.  That’s amazing on a day when the second half was much hotter.

Tomorrow will be his 500th marathon.  For months, he’s been adding extra races to his schedule so he could hit 500 here.  I don’t think I would’ve made the same choice.  Tomorrow’s race is by far the toughest of the series.  I’m signed up for it, but I can’t say for certain that I’ll be able to finish it.

In other news, I didn’t get any bites from the horse flies.  Before the race, I really coated myself with bug spray.  It worked.

Race statistics:

Distance:  26.2 miles

Time:  5:43:58

Average Pace:  13:07 per mile

Marathons/Ultras in 2026:  19

Lifetime Marathons/Ultras:  591

Jackal Marathons:  9

Race Report: 2026 Asphalt Jackal Marathon

Today was the third day of the Jackal Marathons.  Today’s race was the Asphalt Jackal Marathon.  Our course was nine laps of a paved loop through Pinson Mounds State Park.

Pinson Mounds was a 30-minute drive from my hotel in Jackson, but the race started 30 minutes later than the previous two, so I didn’t have to get up any earlier.

Breakfast at my hotel was set up early, so I had time to eat a real breakfast before leaving.  The lady who sets up the breakfast asked me where I was running today.  When I said, “Pinson Mounds,” she got excited.  It’s one of her favorite places.  Then she told me that there’s a row of pine trees there that were planted by her great great grandmother.

As I was getting ready for the race, I discovered I forgot to pack sunblock.  I didn’t need any the previous two days, because we rarely saw the sun.  Today I needed some.  I was able to buy a small tube at the hotel.

I also needed bug spray.  The last three races in this series are all in parks with biting flies.  I got an early enough start that I was able to buy some at Walgreens on my way to the race.

When I got to Pinson Mounds, I saw the pine trees as I was driving in.  I saw more of them during the race.

After two days on trails, I was happy to get onto a paved surface.  My left Achilles tendon was still tight, but it was less of an issue on pavement.

Yesterday, I didn’t have any sore muscles during the race.  I had to use a lot of different muscles trying to stay upright on the muddy trails during yesterday’s race.  As a result, I had a few sore muscles later in the day.  This morning, the soreness was gone.

The temperature at the start was in the upper 60s.  I expected it to get into the upper 70s by the time I finished.  By Jackal standards, that’s downright comfortable.

There were two buildings with bathrooms.  One was the pavilion that was near our start/finish area.  The other was right along the course.  Outside of that building there was a self-service aid station where we could top off our bottles, if necessary.

We started each lap in a parking lot that was on lower ground than the rest of the course.  We had to go up a small hill at the start of each lap.  Other than that, the course wasn’t too hilly.

When I started running, I had no energy.  Leaving the parking lot, I had to walk up that hill.  I did that in almost every lap.  There was another small hill late in the loop that I was also walking on every lap.  Other than that, I was running.  Despite running the vast majority of the loop, my pace was a little slower than 12 minutes per mile.  I just didn’t have a faster gear.

Early in each lap, there was a long downhill section.  I knew there had to be a comparable uphill section somewhere, but I didn’t notice where it was until much later in the race.

My only goal was to keep my time under six hours.  When I finished my first lap, I saw I was on pace to finish in about 5:24.  I expected to slow down eventually, but I kept up that same pace for at least five laps.

Early in the loop, there’s lots of shade.  Later in the loop, there are long sections where we’re out in the open.   By the end of my second lap, I was already noticing the warmth of the sun.

As it warmed up, I expected to need to take walking breaks.  At first, I was thinking I would start taking walking breaks in my fourth lap.  After completing three laps, I talked myself into waiting until after my fourth lap.  Then I talked myself into waiting until I was at least halfway through the race.

My plan was to take a one-minute walking break after each mile, but I kept putting it off, one mile at a time.  The reason was always different.  If I was on the shady downhill section, I didn’t feel any need to walk.  If I was near the end of the lap, I waited until the next lap.  If I was going to take a bathroom stop in another mile, I figured I should wait until after that.

Even though I was still running most of the time, my pace started to deteriorate.  It was getting warmer, and I was getting hotter on the sunny sections.  By the time I started my sixth lap, my pace was slower than 13 minutes per mile.

Early in my sixth lap, a runner behind me told me I had a horse fly on my leg.  I felt it bite about the same time he said something.  I reached down and squashed it, but it had already bitten me.  I felt that for the next mile. Shortly after that, I noticed two other flies buzzing around my head.

Last year, it was much hotter, and I was putting ice in my hat to cool me off.  The flies were all over me last year, and I wondered if the ice water dripping down from my hat was attracting the flies.  As I got hotter, I was conflicted about how to cool myself.  Should I put ice in my hat or start doing more walking?  I held off on the ice.

I was already through six laps before taking any walking breaks, other than on the two short hills that I always walked.  The 18-mile mark was on the downhill section, so I waited.  I didn’t make it to 19.

I was at about 18.5 miles, when I had to take a walking break.  I kept it short, but after a minute or two of running, I needed to take another short walking break.  After that, I managed to run the rest of that lap.

It was in my seventh lap that I finally noticed where the uphill section was.  It was a long section in the middle of the lap that was just barely uphill.  It was in the middle of this section that I took two walking breaks in my previous lap.  This time, I needed to take a walking break right at the beginning of this section.

Instead of taking planned uniform walking breaks, I was basically walking whenever I was too tired to keep running.  My walking breaks were frequent on this part of the loop, but I kept them short.  Sometimes 15 seconds of walking was enough.

Last year, I found out how much the pavement can heat up on a sunny day.  I felt the triple whammy of hotter temperatures, direct sunshine, and heat rising from the pavement.  This year, the pavement was cooler to begin with, so it didn’t get that hot.  The air temperature also wasn’t as hot.  It was mostly the direct sun exposure that had me feeling hot in the late laps.

With two laps left to go, I finally started putting ice in my hat.  I’m happy to say that it didn’t seem to attract more flies.  I got through the race with only the one bite.

As I was finishing my eighth lap, I saw Rob leaving the parking lot just as I was arriving.  I met Rob last year, and I thought it would be nice if I could catch up to him and finish the last lap together.

As I started my last lap, I saw Rob walking up a small hill.  When I got to the same hill, I walked it too.  Then Rob disappeared around a corner.  I didn’t see him again until I was done with the downhill section.  The next section of the course goes around three sides of a clearing.  As I reached the clearing, I could see Rob, but he was just leaving that section.

The uphill section starts right after that clearing.  I forced myself to keep running until I turned onto a long straight section, where I could see Rob ahead of me.  The gap was smaller now.

I wanted to run until I caught up to Rob, but I needed to take two fairly brief walking breaks.  When I finally caught up to him, we walked the rest of the loop together.  We didn’t run again until we got back to the parking lot and were within sight of the finish line.

I finished in 5:32:07.  I was almost two hours faster than yesterday.  That says something about how much tougher yesterday’s conditions were.

I lingered in the finish area to talk to other runners, but I still had a 30-minute drive to get back to my hotel.  Before leaving, I made a point of rinsing out my bottle and making a bathroom stop.

Tomorrow’s race will be on the same loop at Pinson Mounds.  I expect the temperature to be about five degrees warmer, and it’ll be a sunny day.  I’m hoping I can keep my time under six hours again, but tomorrow will be tougher.

Race statistics:

Distance:  26.2 miles

Time:  5:32:07

Average Pace:  12:40 per mile

Marathons/Ultras in 2026:  18

Lifetime Marathons/Ultras:  590

Jackal Marathons:  8

Race Report: Backass Jackal Trail Marathon

Today was day two of the Jackal Marathons.  Today’s race was the Backass Jackal Trail Marathon.  We ran the same trail loop as yesterday, but today we ran it in the opposite direction.

When I got up, my left Achilles tendon was so tight that I could only take small steps.  By the time I left the hotel, I was walking better, but I still had a slight limp as I was carrying things to the car.  I remember feeling the same way each morning at Across the Years, and I always managed to loosen up by the time I started running.

Those races all had a nice smooth surface.  If I was running on roads today, I knew I would manage OK.  On trails, I’m constantly turning my ankles in unusual ways, so this was a big concern.

I wore a different pair of shoes today.  My plan is to alternate between two pairs of shoes, so they have enough time to dry out before I wear them again.

There was a thunderstorm last night, and when I arrived at the race, the trails had some muddy spots.  If it didn’t rain again, it wouldn’t be too bad.  Spoiler alert:  It did.

The temperature was a little warmer at the start.  It was 76 degrees, with the usual high humidity.  According to the forecast, it was going to warm up about 10 degrees by mid-afternoon.  I don’t think it actually got that hot.

The big wildcard was the possibility of a passing thunderstorm.  About 15 minutes before the race, I checked my weather app and saw that a thunderstorm was moving in.  We had a dry start, but I was expecting a period of heavy rain in the next hour.  I made a quick trip to my car to put my phone in the glove compartment.  I didn’t want to have it on me if we were going to have heavy rain.

Running in this direction, we started with a slightly downhill section that’s fairy runnable.  I did my best to run most of it, but it was obvious that my running pace was slower than yesterday.  Running at any pace was tiring.  I didn’t have sore or stiff muscles.  I just felt fatigued.

When I ran this race last year, I felt like I was relearning the course as I ran the first lap.  Everything looks different when you’re approaching it from the opposite direction.  This year, I had the benefit of having run it in this direction a year ago.  It was different from yesterday, but it still seemed familiar.

The trail has two distinct sections.  After running one section, you come out into a clearing and run across the grass, just across the street from where we all parked.  Then you re-enter the wood to run the second section.  It was in the second section that I saw something new.  A tree had fallen across the trail during last night’s storm.

I stepped over the trunk, but my left foot got tangled in some smaller branches.  I pulled it free, but that didn’t make my ankle feel any better.

I was almost done with my first lap when I heard the rain.  Because of the dense tree cover, I heard it before I could feel it.  Within a few minutes, the rain made its way down to ground level.

My time for the first lap was about 56 minutes.  That’s slower than I started yesterday, but it was acceptable.

Early in each lap, there was a section of trail with several small hills that we had to go up and over.  They’re small, but steep.  Now that it was raining, these hills were slick with mud going up and down.  To get up the hill without sliding backward, I had to find a tree I could grab onto.  Going down one of these hills, you would slide down with no control over your momentum.  Going down the steepest hill, I slid into a tree.  By grabbing the tree, I managed to stay upright.  The runner behind me wasn’t as lucky.  He slid sideways before reaching the tree and ended up on the ground.

During my second lap, the rain was coming down hard, and it didn’t take long before there was standing water on the trail.  Many parts of the trail were cow paths worn into the ground by repeated running.  The trail was lower than the surrounding grass, so that’s where the water settled.  To keep from splashing through the water, I had to try to run on the edge of the trail.  That slowed me down.

Halfway through that lap, I entertained thoughts of quitting.  I talked myself into continuing as long as I was on pace to beat the seven and a half hour time limit.

By the end of that lap, the rain had stopped, but the damage to the trails was done.  I still had five laps to go.

Because of the mud and standing water, my second lap was slower than my first lap.  It took an hour and three minutes.  That’s slower than any of my laps yesterday, but at that pace I would still beat the time limit.

As I started by third lap, the trails were in worse condition then they had been during the previous lap.  Standing water was at its deepest.  I expected the trails to gradually dry out now that the rain had stopped.  That thought kept my spirits from sinking too much.

The section with muddy hills was more difficult now.  To get up one hill, I had to pull myself up by grabbing roots.  Coming down another hill, I slipped in the mud and fell on my butt.

Later in that lap, one of the faster runners passed me.  He said, “I didn’t crap my pants.  I swear.”  I didn’t notice, but I assume he also fell and got his shorts all muddy.

Near the end of that lap, there was a deep puddle.  I saw the runner ahead of me going through it, so I saw how deep it was.  There was a hollowed-out tree trunk going right through the middle.  The water in the tree trunk wasn’t as deep.  I tried to walk through the tree trunk, but it wasn’t wide enough.  I couldn’t avoid putting one foot into the puddle.  The water came up to my knee.

My time for that lap was an hour and five minutes.  If I ran the whole race at that pace, I would take longer than the time limit.  I was still on pace, but only because my first two laps were faster.

In my fourth lap, it became obvious that trail conditions were not getting better.  There was less standing water, but the mud was getting worse.  As more runners ran through the muddy patches, they got wider and deeper.  I wish I could show you pictures of what the trails looked like, but my phone was in the car.

Halfway through that lap, I caught up to another runner.  I assumed we were both on the same lap.  Then I found out she was still on her third lap.  She had already decided she was going to drop out when she got back to the start/finish area.  Other than her, I knew of only one other runner who was behind me.

My time for lap four was the same as lap three.  As I started my fifth lap, I worked hard to keep up my pace.

The section of muddy hills kept getting worse.  I wiped out three times in one lap.  It was discouraging to know I would still need to run through this section two more times.  Going up these hills seemed almost impossible, and the downhill sides were downright scary.

Later in that lap, I was frustrated with how much more mud there was.  Sections that should have been runnable were too muddy for me to get any traction.  I had to walk when I should’ve been able to run.

When I finished that lap, my time was the same as the previous two laps.  I was expecting to be slower.  That helped lift my spirits going into my sixth lap.

I continued to be frustrated with the amount of mud.  I did my best to run where I could, but it seemed like less and less of the trail was runnable.

I was near the end of that lap, when I saw something new.  Another small tree was down across the course.  That wasn’t there on my previous five laps.  It didn’t fall during the storm, so it must have uprooted later because the ground was so soft.

I was almost done with that lap when I started to catch up to another runner.  He was walking the last part of the loop.  I assumed he was on his last lap and no longer felt the need to hurry.  When I got to the start/finish area, I found out we each had one more lap.

Lap six took one minute long than the previous few laps.  That was OK.  If I could run the last lap in 1:09, I would beat the time limit.  So, far, my slowest lap was 1:06.

It’s worth noting that the time limit wasn’t really a hard limit.  It was more of a guideline.  The RD wanted everyone to have a chance to finish.  He wouldn’t disqualify you for being a few minutes too late.  He just didn’t want to wait for someone who was going to be out on the trails all day.

As I started my last lap, there were two runners behind me.  That made me feel less urgency.  Even if I was over the time limit, I wouldn’t be the last person to finish.  Still, I felt it was an important goal.

For most of the day, it was cloudy, but now the sun was out.  In places, it was shining through the trees.  For the first time in the race, I was conscious of how hot it was.  That made the last lap more tiring, but I was motivated to keep up a fast enough pace.

I worked harder and harder to find places with good footing.  I ran on the edges of the trail or through the grass, to avoid the mud.  On the hills, I worked to find approaches that were less muddy, even if they were steeper or had other obstacles.  I went out of my way to find trees I could grab onto.

When I got to the last part of the loop, I was frustrated with how many previously runnable sections were now too muddy.  Anything even slightly downhill was now treacherous.  At any time, my feet could come out from under me.

Ironically, today was the first time I got through a race on these trails without tripping on a root and falling.  I lost count of how many times I fell after slipping on mud.

I finished the race in 7:27:19.  It’s one of my slowest finishes ever, but conditions were more difficult than I could’ve imagined.

I got through the first two Jackal marathons on trails.  The next two are on pavement.  I’m looking forward to easier conditions the next two days.

After a race, I usually take a bath to loosen up my muscles so I can stretch.  Today, I had to take a shower first to rinse off all the mud.  Rinse isn’t a strong enough word.  I needed to do some scrubbing.  My lower legs were caked with mud.

Race statistics:

Distance:  26.2 miles

Time:  7:27:19

Average Pace:  17:04 per mile

Marathons/Ultras in 2026:  17

Lifetime Marathons/Ultras:  589

Jackal Marathons:  7

Race Report: 2026 Jackal Trail Marathon

On June 13, I ran the Jackal Trail Marathon in Jackson, TN.  This was the first race of the five-day Jackal Marathons series.  Today’s course was seven laps of a 3.75-mile trail loop through a wooded area near Union University.

I ran this series last year, so I knew what to expect.  The trails weren’t overly technical, but there were roots, so I had to watch my footing and pick up my feet.

When I picked up my race bib yesterday, I forgot to look at the back.  The back of each race bib listed everyone who has ever finished all five races of this series.  Having finished the series last year, I’m now immortalized on the race bibs.  The race bibs also listed the course record holders.

The biggest challenge today was the weather.  When I arrived at the race venue, the temperature was in the low 70s, but there was enough humidity to make it feel 10 degrees warmer.  By the time I finished, it would get into the upper 80s.  Basically, it was two degrees warmer after each lap.

It rained heavily on Friday, so I was expecting the trails to be muddy.  There were a couple muddy spots, but most of the course was in surprisingly good condition.

I brought a cooler filled with ice cubes, so I could put ice in my hat as it started getting hotter.  I had just finished lugging my cooler to the start area when I realized I had forgotten my fuel belt and bottle.  With just 19 minutes until the start, I had to rush back to my car, so I could drive back to the hotel and get it.  Fortunately, my hotel was close.

I would’ve made it back in time, but I also had to make a bathroom stop.  That took extra time, but it was time well spent.  There aren’t any bathrooms on the course, so I was glad I had the opportunity to use the bathroom in my hotel room.

We had to park on the other side of the street at Union University.  As I was parking my park, I saw another runner who was also going to be late to the start.  His name was Billy, and this was his first time doing these races.

When I reached the start area, the race had already started.  The clock read 1:17.  I still needed to fill my bottle, so it was probably more like 1:30 when I started.  This race doesn’t have chip timing.  Official times are “gun times,” so the extra time it took me to get started was time lost.

Billy needed more time to set up his gear, so I started by myself.  I didn’t like having to run the trails with nobody to follow, but as soon as I reached the first junction, I was reminded how well these trails are marked.  I wasn’t going to make a wrong turn on this course.

This trail snakes back and forth a lot.  I had only been running for a few minutes when I saw several runners going in the opposite direction on another segment of the trail that was only about 30 feet away.  I would need to make several turns before I reached the same segment, so it was hard to tell how far ahead they really were.

I was expecting to be one of the slowest runners on the course.  I only needed to make up a couple minutes, but I wasn’t optimistic that I would catch up.  If anything, I would fall farther behind.  I might catch one or two runners eventually, but it wouldn’t happen right away.

The time limit for this race was seven and a half hours.  Last year, I ran it in 6:27:53.  I expected to be slower this year.  I’m not in the same shape, and I didn’t have as much recovery time after FANS.  I knew I could finish within the time limit, and I was reasonably confident I could keep my time under seven hours.  Other than finishing, my only important goal was to stay upright.  Last year, I tripped on a root and fell.

I ran at a cautious pace, and I frequently slowed to a walk.  I walked on hills and any time I saw a lot of roots.  Even on the most runnable sections, I sometimes slowed to a walk for a few steps to manage my effort.  Besides not wanting to trip, I also didn’t want to tire myself out on a day that would gradually get hotter.

Last year, I used a 22-ounce bottle.  This year, I decided to go with a 16-ounce bottle, so I wouldn’t be carrying as much weight.  I refilled it at the start of each lap.  If I needed more, there was a self-service aid station about halfway through the loop.  I could always refill there.  As it turns out, I never did.

The first time my watch gave me a split, it was a reminder to drink.  After that, I got in the habit of drinking after every mile.

According to my watch, my time for the first mile was just over 14 minutes.  At first, I thought that was slow.  After thinking about it, I realized that was faster than my average pace last year.

I eventually realized I needed to take any information from my watch with a grain of salt. Almost all of the course was under dense tree cover, and we were constantly making sharp turns and doubling back.  In conditions like these, your watch isn’t always in contact with enough satellites to track your position.  With so many turns, you end up running farther than what your watch says.  My actual pace was actually a bit faster than what my watch said.

My pace in the second mile was about the same.  By the third mile, I was slowing down a little.  About halfway through that mile, Billy caught up to me.  After he passed me, I was the last runner on the course.

Having run this race last year, I recognized some parts of the loop.  I couldn’t possibly remember every turn or hill, but there were certain features that were memorable.  Late in the loop, there was a long hill that stuck in my memory.  I recognized it as the one hill that I always needed to walk last year.  This year, I was walking all the hills.

Shortly after that, there was a place where I had to run over a few small hills in quick succession.  The last one was the steepest, but we didn’t actually need to go over that hill.  We were supposed to go around it.  Last year, I didn’t figure that out until late in the race.  This year, I remembered, and I immediately spotted the gentler trail that went around the side.

I was almost done with that lap when I saw another runner a short distance ahead of me.  When I finished the lap, I saw him and another runner in the start/finish area.  I refilled my bottle and quickly headed out.  The other two runners were still getting ready to head out again.  For the first time, I wasn’t in last place.

I checked my watch as I headed out again.  My first lap took almost 52 minutes, not counting my late start.  If I ran every lap at that pace, I would finish in 6:04.  I fully expected to get a little slower with each lap, as the temperature gradually rose.  I wasn’t wrong.

I was a little more than halfway through my second lap when the two fastest runners passed me.  They were already on their third lap.  Over the next few laps, several other runners would gain a lap on me.  The fastest runners would pass me more than once.  I didn’t worry about that too much.  I just wanted to finish and stay upright.

A few times per lap, I caught one of my feet on a root.  Each time, I was briefly thrown off balance, but I managed to keep me feet under me and avoid falling.  Most of the time, I was going at a cautious enough pace that it was easy to regain my balance.  As the race progressed, there were a couple times that I would have fallen, but I was able to reach out and use a tree to steady myself.

My second lap was two minutes slower than my first lap.  That wasn’t surprising.  As long as my lap times were under an hour, I was easily on pace to break seven hours.

About halfway through each lap, we came out of the forest and ran through a clearing within sight of where we parked.  This one the only part of the course where we were exposed to the sun for any length of time.  By my third lap, I started to get hot on this section.  There was a hill that I needed to walk, but as soon as I reached the top, I always forced myself to run until I re-entered the woods.

My third lap took about 56 minutes.  That was two minutes slower than my second lap.  I was still happy with that.

By now, I was getting hot enough that I started putting ice in my hat.  The ice helped cool me off, but it was all melted by the time I was halfway through the lap.

During this lap, I had an awkward step when my foot slid sideways off a root.  I turned my ankle slightly, and I had to do a little more walking until I was sure it wasn’t injured.  I didn’t do any damage, but for the rest of the race, that ankle felt a little sore anytime I took an awkward step.  With so many roots, that was a frequent occurrence.

As I ran through the clearing again, I told myself that I was halfway through the race.  When I checked my watch, I realized that it must be short of halfway.  My time was too low for me to already be at the halfway point of the race.

Lap four took 58 minutes.  I was consistently getting two minutes slower with each lap.  That’s mostly because I was needing to do a little more walking in each lap, as it got hotter.

After my previous lap, I put one handful of ice on my hat.  This time, I put two handfuls in my hat.  As I started running my fifth lap, the ice on the top of my head was so intensely cold that it was painful.  The first few minutes of that lap were uncomfortable.  After a few minutes, the ice no longer hurt, but it was still helping to cool me off as it melted on my head.  Sadly, it was completely melted after only a mile.  It helped while it lasted, but as the temperature kept climbing, the ice melted quickly.

Through the first four laps, I had some near misses, but I never fell.  In lap five, I accidentally stepped in a hole in the middle of the trail.  The sides were muddy, and my foot slid farther into the hole.  I couldn’t lift that foot out fast enough to keep from getting off balance and falling to one side.  I had to put both hands on the trail to catch myself.  No other part of my body touched the trail, but I could no longer say I stayed upright.

I expected that lap to take more than an hour.  I was pleasantly surprised to run it in 59 minutes.  I was still getting slower with each lap, but I would easily finish in less than seven hours.

I once again put two handfuls of ice in my hat.  This time it didn’t hurt.  I think it makes a big difference where the ice was sitting on my head.  Ice near the front of my head was painful.  Ice near the back felt good.

In lap six, I finally tripped and fell.  I caught my left foot on a root, and it got stuck on that root just long enough that I couldn’t get it under me again in time to keep from falling.

I took the impact with my right arm.  I didn’t hit anything hard, and the ground was soft enough that the fall was no big deal.  The only thing injured was my pride.  This was my third race on these trails, and I’ve yet to get through seven laps without a fall.

That lap was the first one to take more than an hour, but I only had one lap to go, and I was easily on pace to break seven hours.

I didn’t have as much incentive to push the pace on that lap.  I allowed myself to take longer and more frequent walking breaks.  My biggest concern now, other than not wanting to fall again, was to make sure I didn’t overexert myself in the heat.  I needed to be able to bounce back and run on these trails again tomorrow.

That lap was a couple minutes slower, but I got it done.  I finished with an official time of 6:45:35.  That’s slower than last year, but I always expected that.  The important thing is I finished.  I earned the first of five jackal medals.

As soon as I finished, I borrowed a chair so I could sit down and ice my ankle.  My cooler was still about one third filled with ice.  I plunged my ankle in the ice and kept it there for as long as I could stand the cold.  After that, my ankle felt much better.

When I finished, there were still two other runners on the course.  While I was icing my ankle, I saw both of them finish.

The heat index was 103 degrees when I finished.  I wasn’t expecting it to get that hot.  The good news is that the next few days should be cooler.

I brought my gear back to the car and drove back to the hotel.  When I got there, my first order of business was refueling.  I drank two glasses of chocolate milk and a large pastry that I got at Wal-Mart the day before.  Then I took a hot bath, stretched my Achilles tendons, and worked on a few muscles with a massage stick.

I’m disappointed that I still have never run a race on these trails without falling.  I can try again tomorrow.  Tomorrow’s race is on the same trail loop, but we’ll be running it in the opposite direction.

Race statistics:

Distance:  26.2 miles

Time:  6:45:35

Average Pace:  15:28 per mile

Marathons/Ultras in 2026:  16

Lifetime Marathons/Ultras:  588

Jackal Marathons:  6

Series Preview: 2026 Jackal Marathons

A year ago, I did a five-day series in Tennessee called the Jackal Marathons.  I knew these races would be difficult, but I signed up for them because it was a chance to run a quadzilla (four marathons in four days) in a new state.  I only needed to do four of these races, but I signed up to the fifth one as well.  In for a penny, in for a pound.

I knew these races would be difficult.  Any time you run marathons on five consecutive days, it takes a toll on you.  What made these races particularly difficult was the extreme heat and humidity.  June in Tennessee is always hot, but last year was unusually hot.  There were heat advisories every day, with the heat index consistently hitting 100 degrees by noon.  On the last day, the heat index rose to 109.

The heat wasn’t the only challenge.  Three of the five races were trail races.  I’m out of my element on trails.  The trails we were running on the first two days weren’t particularly technical, but there were roots, and I tripped and fell both days.  For the rest of the week, my lower back was bothering me.

Days three and four were on pavement.  I thought those races would be easier.  What I didn’t realize until I got there was how much the pavement would heat up on a sunny day.  The course was easier, but the heat was worse.

Day five was the most challenging course, and it was the hottest day, but it was the deer flies that had me wanting to quit.  Every lap, I was getting multiple bites.  The flies were relentless.  They kept feeding until I killed them, and each time I slapped one, it would leave a blood spatter the size of a quarter.

After that last race, I said that I wouldn’t have done that race if I had known how difficult it would be.  I also said I wouldn’t be back.  Guess what.  I’m back!  I’m doing all five of these races again this year.

Why did I decide to come back?  This may sound strange, but I couldn’t bear the thought of not coming back.

Last year, I chose to do these races in spite of the difficulty.  I found myself surrounded by runners who knew exactly what to expect.  They were doing these races because of the difficulty.  I was in the company of bad-ass trail runners who thrive on doing difficult things.  As someone who sets challenging goals, I felt like I had found my tribe.

I came back because I wanted to prove to myself that I belong here.  If I was “one and done,” I would’ve felt like a wimp.

The series starts tomorrow.  Before these races are over, I may wonder what I was thinking.  I’m all but certain I’ll have regrets on day five.  I know it’ll be hot again, but I’m cautiously optimistic that it won’t be as hot as last year.  My new worry is the possibility of thunderstorms.

One additional challenge this year is lack of recovery time.  Last year, this series started 15 days after the FANS 24-Hour Run.  This year, the first race is only six days after FANS.  That’s not much recovery time.

One thing about this series is easy.  All of the race venues are within 30 miles of my hotel in Jackson.  I flew to Memphis this morning and drove to Jackson from there.  My hotel room has a kitchenette with a full-size refrigerator.  After checking in, I did some grocery shopping.

Wish me luck.  I’m going to need it.

Race Report: Native Jackal Trail Marathon

On Wednesday, June 25, I ran the Native Jackal Trail Marathon.  This was the fifth and final race of The Jackal Marathons, and it was the toughest of the five.  When I signed up for this, I knew it would be a challenge for me, but I was doing the first four, so I figured I might as well do the fifth one while I was already here.

The venue for this race was Chickasaw State Park, which is southwest of Henderson, TN.  The drive time from where I was staying in Jackson was about 35 minutes, but this race had a later start time.  It didn’t start until 8:30 AM.  On the plus side, I didn’t have to get up as early.  On the negative side, it meant I wouldn’t finish until later in the afternoon, when it would be even hotter.

I thought I packed five pairs of running socks.  As I was getting my clothes ready, I couldn’t find the fifth pair.  Fortunately, I discovered this Tuesday evening.  I rinsed out the least muddy of my four used pairs and hung them up to dry overnight.  At home, they never would’ve dried that quickly, but hotel rooms always seem to be bone dry.  When I put them on, they still felt slightly damp, but at least they weren’t sweaty or muddy.

One of the challenges of this whole series has been hot evening temperatures that make it hard to get to sleep.  Even with the AC running day and night, the room never completely cools down.  It took me a long time to get to sleep.  I eventually got some sleep, but I woke up two hours before my alarm and couldn’t get back to sleep.

There were two pieces of good news.  My digestive system felt stable, and my lower back wasn’t as painful.

Our course was a 2.65-mile loop, which we needed to run 10 times.  The majority of the course was on forest trails, but a portion was on roads.  This was the hilliest of the Jackal Marathons, with more than 400 feet of elevation gain per lap.

I would be in the woods most of the time, so I didn’t need to apply sunblock.  I did need bug spray.  I assumed there would be mosquitoes, and I had read that the horseflies were particularly bad on this course.

As I was getting ready to leave the hotel, I realized I had left my bug spray in the car.  I had to wait until I got to the park before applying that.

On Tuesday, I didn’t put on my bandana until about a third of the way through the race.  It was helpful for cooling me down, but only for one lap.  That bandana soaks up a lot of water, so it’s heavy.  Wearing that extra weight when it only helps me for one lap doesn’t make sense.  The cost outweighs the benefit.  For this race, I started without it, although I still brought it along, in case I changed my mind.

Another runner had told me the time limit for this race was 8:30.  I wanted to confirm that.  I’ve never taken eight hours before, but this race could easily be the exception.  I asked Rob, and he said, “Don’t worry.  I’ll be behind you.”

Before each race, we always lined up for a pre-race photo.  Before this race, we took an extra group pic of just the runners who were doing all five marathons.  17 Runners signed up for all five.  Of those, one was unable to finish one of the other races.  The other 16 all toed the line hoping to complete the series.  Spoiler alert: we all finished.

During pre-race announcements, the RD told us he wanted us all to finish, and he strongly implied that he would give us as much time as we needed.  Despite that reassurance, I still viewed 8:30 as a time I needed to beat.

For the first lap, I was learning the course.  We started out running through the parking lot, and then we went up a small hill.  Most of us walked up this hill.  Next, we ran down a hill and past a building with bathrooms.  Then we ran a brief segment with mixed surfaces.  It was part grass, part dirt, and part boardwalk, but it was all fairly runnable.

That took us to the main section of road.  At first, the road was flat, as we ran past a lake.  This section was in the sun, so I always ran until I reached what the RD described as the “Hill Up to Heaven.”  It wasn’t a steep hill, but it was long.  Most of had to walk the whole thing.

That road leveled off, and then we turned onto another road that was slightly downhill.  We weren’t on this road for very long before leaving the road to get onto the trails.  There were signs, but I easily could’ve kept running straight on the road.  Fortunately, I saw where the runner ahead of me was leaving the road.  After that, I knew where to look for the sign.

At this point, I was one mile into the loop.  The rest was all on forest trails.  My first impression was that these trails were more runnable than the trails we ran on days one and two of this series.  There were roots, but they were mostly on uphill and downhill sections.  The roots seemed to naturally form steps.  If you paid attention to where you need to step up or down, you wouldn’t trip on any roots.

There were a few sections of roots on flat sections, including one particularly gnarly set of roots.  I had to walk those.  Otherwise, I was running the downhill and flat sections and walking the uphill sections.

In general, the downhill sections tended to be long and gradual.  By contrast, the uphill sections were shorter, but much steeper.  When I saw the beginning of the first steep hill, I said to the runner behind me, “This looks tough.”  He had run these trails before, and he said, “Yes, but wait until you reach the bad one.”

In all, there were four hills that were so steep that it was tiring just to walk them.  Also, it was slow going.  You couldn’t walk up these hills at anything close to a normal walking pace.

You could tell when you were getting to the last steep hill, because there was a blue sign with an arrow pointing to the left.  Here, you left the main trail and went straight up a hill.  It was steep, but it wasn’t actually that long.  Halfway up this hill, you turned a corner, and you could see the top.  It was marked by another arrow, where you turned back onto the main trail, and it leveled off.

The last part of the hill wasn’t as steep, and I could pick up the pace of my walking.  It seemed like it was just a steady uphill grade, but there were small logs built into the hill to make steps.  I didn’t notice these logs and I caught my foot on one of them.  I didn’t fall, but I stumbled forward so awkwardly that I aggravated my lower back.  For the next minute or two, every step was painful.  I eventually loosened up, but it made the rest of that lap more difficult.

From the top of this hill, it was downhill to the end of the loop.  At first it was gradual and runnable.  Then it got steeper, and there were roots.  At the end, there were actual steps, leading down to the parking lot where we started.

After refilling my bottle and putting ice in my hat, I checked my watch.  The first lap took me almost 42 minutes.  At that pace, I would take almost seven hours to finish.  I knew I would slow down as it got hotter,

My impression after that lap was that the trail section wasn’t really that long.  It was only half as long as the trail loop we ran on days one and two, and it didn’t seem to have as many turns per mile.

When I reached the trails for the second time, the loop was longer than I remembered.  At times, I wasn’t recognizing anything.  After losing sight of the runner in front of me, I sometimes wondered if I had made a wrong turn.  Then I would see a trail marker or a section I recognized.  Other times I would get to a section I recognized and realize I had forgotten it.  Oh yeah, this is where we come out by the lake.  Oh yeah, this is where we cross two streams.  Oh yeah, I remember this bridge.

I was still in my second lap when a faster runner flew by me.  Every day, there were faster runners who would lap me once or twice, but I didn’t recognize her.  Besides the marathon, there was a 10.6-mile race which was just four laps.  I wondered if she was doing the 10.6.  That would explain how she could run this loop at such a fast pace.

My second lap was a few minutes slower than my first lap.  At the pace of this lap, I would barely break 7:30.  I knew, if anything, I would keep slowing down.

The heat seemed to get worse each day of this series.  It only took until 10:00 for the heat index to climb above 100.  We were scheduled to start at 8:30, but didn’t actually get started until after 8:40.  By the time I finished two laps, it was already after 10:00.  I still had eight laps to go.  It was going to take me several more hours to finish, so I was spending much more time in extreme conditions.

Because we were on a relatively short loop, I went with a 16-ounce bottle again.  If that wasn’t enough, there was a place where we could refill about a mile into the loop.  When I passed the bathrooms in my third loop, I needed to stop to pee.  That was a good sign that I was drinking enough.

My third lap was more like I expected.  I recognized more sections of the trail.  I still couldn’t remember everything, but I got a better feel for where the steep hills were and what other sections came between them.

Other days, the humidity got better as the temperature rose.  This race was the exception.  It was always humid running through the forest.  The vegetation around us seemed to pump more moister into the air.  We were also near a lake and there were streams.  On days three and four, I felt like I was in an oven.  This race was more like running in a sauna.  I had sweat streaming from every pore.

Four more of the fast runners lapped me in this lap.  I expected at least three of them to lap me again before the race was over.  The only possible exception was Hannah.  She told me she had twisted her ankle and would have to do a lot of walking now.  She was still determined to finish though.  It’s worth noting that her walking was faster than my walking, and it wasn’t long before I saw her running again.

My third lap took about 48 minutes.  That was an eight-hour pace.  My first two laps had been faster, but I expected to continue slowing down.  There was a very real possibility that this would be the first time I ever took more than eight hours to finish a marathon.

It was during my fourth lap that I started to pay more attention to my splits.  My next two miles took more than 17 minutes each.  Then I had one that took 18 minutes.  This was in spite of the fact that I was running most of the sections that were flat or downhill.  Where I had to walk, it was a slow walk.  The steep hills were especially slow.  On the steepest sections, I sometimes could only take one step up before needing a second or two to catch my breath before taking the next step up.

The fastest runner lapped me again in lap four.  That meant she was on lap six.  Now, I knew for sure that she was doing the marathon.  The 10.6 mile-race was only four laps.  She went on to win the race with a time that was blazing fast compared to everyone else.  In all, she lapped me three times.

Lap four took about the same time as lap three.  That was encouraging, but I still expected to slow down.  As the race progressed, I wasn’t just feeling the humidity.  The heat became more intense.

Early in lap five, I made another bathroom stop.  That was encouraging, but it was the last bathroom stop I would make.  Later in the race, 16 ounces of water or Gatorade per lap wasn’t enough.

Early in the race, the “Hill Up to Heaven” was mostly in the shade.  Now, more and more of it was in the sun.  I hated to walk when I was in the sun, because it meant spending more time on hot pavement.  On this hill, there was no choice.  It was all I could do to force myself to run the flat section before the hill.

Shortly after getting onto the trails in my fifth lap, I looked at my watch, and it read. 12.09 miles.  I thought to myself that I only had about a mile to the halfway mark.  Then I realized I had much more than a mile to get to the end of this lap.  When I finished the lap, my watch was already reading 13.6 miles.  That was scary.  Then you’re running under dense tree cover and doing a lot of turns, your watch tends to underestimate how far you actually ran.  I noticed that in the other trail races of this series.  If my watch said 13.6, how far did I realty run?

At packet pickup last Friday, Lindsay had told me this course would be long.  I think she said something about “bonus miles.”  Usually that refers to the extra miles you run if you miss a turn and go off trail.  In this case, it meant the extra miles you get to run because the race distance is longer than advertised.

After five laps, I was still on pace to break eight hours, but I didn’t think I would.  It was getting more difficult to force myself to run all the runnable sections of the trail.  I sometimes had to take extra walking breaks, just because of heat and exhaustion.

In the second half of the race, I noticed the heat more and more.  Earlier in the race, I was only drinking while walking up the big hills.  I typically didn’t take my last drink until the last big hill.  Now, I was sometimes drinking at other times.  By the time I reached that last hill, my bottle was already empty.  As I ran out of water or Gatorade earlier in each lap, I wondered if I would need to start topping off my bottle at the self-service aid station.

During my sixth lap, several runners lapped me.  One was the speedy woman who went on to win the race.  She was lapping me for the third time.  Four other runners lapped me for the second time.  One of them was Lindsay.  She was the one who had told me to expect this course to be long.  As she went by, I asked, “You said this course was a bit long, right?”  She said, “Yeah.  Your watch will probably read 27 miles.”  Knowing that my watch was probably underestimating the distance, I asked, “So that means it’s actually what?”  Her reply was, “Who knows?’  I expected my watch to read more than 27 miles by the time I finished, and I wondered if I was actually running something closer to 28.

In the previous two races, I was bothered by biting flies.  The flies I encountered along that course where black and white.  In this race, I encountered some of those, but there was another type of biting fly that was much more plentiful.  These flies had yellow and black wings, and they were about the size of a penny.  When they bit you, they just kept feeding until you swatted them.  That’s harder to do on the trails, because you don’t want to get distracted and trip on a root.  If you just brush them away, they come right back, and you can’t outrun them.

When I slapped one, it sometimes left a spatter of blood on my leg.  One time, I had a blood stain on my hand the size of a quarter and a similar blood stain on my leg.  It was amazing how much blood those things were sucking out of me.

The flies didn’t get bad until the second half of the race.  By my sixth lap, I didn’t know if I could tolerate this for four more laps.  If anything could make me quit, it was the flies.

I had applied bug spray before the race, but I’m sure it had long since rinsed away.  Between my sweat and the ice water dipping from my hat, I was always soaking wet.

The last runner to pass me that lap was Hannah.  She caught up to me just before the last steep hill.  Her ankle didn’t seem to be slowing her down at all.  As we walked up the last hill, I wondered if she would see the blood on my leg and think I had taken a bad fall.  I told her, “Don’t worry about the blood on my leg.  That’s just from the flies.  They’re eating me alive.”  Then she said, “There’s one on your knee.”  Sure enough, another fly was eating me.

I continued to pay attention to my mile splits.  Some had been slower than 19 minutes, but they were all faster than 20.  That was my goal now.  Keep every mile under 20 minutes.  You might think I could walk that fast, but walking on the trails was always slower than that.  On the steep hills, it was much slower.  The only way I could keep my average pace under 20 was to keep enough running in the mix.

By my seventh lap, I was tempted to just walk the rest of the way.  What kept me occasionally running was knowing that I needed to if I was going to finish in eight and a half hours.

My time after seven laps was 5:33.  If I could keep my remaining laps times under 59 minutes, I would make it.  I just had to run wherever I could.  That was easier said than done.  Sometimes I would start a long section that was gradually downhill and mostly soft pine needles.  I would tell myself I could run this.  After 10 steps, I could be walking again.  Exhaustion was forcing me to walk even where I was easily running earlier in the race.

The flies were still eating me alive.  When I finished that lap, the volunteers at the aid station sprayed my back, legs, and arms with Deep Woods Off.  That helped.  The flies left me alone for most of the next lap.

Lap eight took 51 minutes.  That was encouraging.  I knew I could break 8:30, if I could keep some running in the mix.

Rob had just finished his seventh lap.  I was going slow, but he was now a full lap behind me.  There were also a couple of other runners behind me.  I knew I wouldn’t be the last runner on the course, but I still was strongly motivated to keep my time under 8:30.

When I got to the Hill Up to Heaven, I saw something I didn’t expect.  The road was shady now.  It was late afternoon, and the sun was getting lower in the sky.

As usual, I had to walk all the way up the hill.  After that hill, the road levels off.  I used to be able to resume running there.  Now I couldn’t run until I turned and started downhill.  I had been watching my current pace as I walked up the long hill.  It got to be slower than 20 minutes at times.  I hoped to pick up the pace now that I was running.  I couldn’t get my current pace any faster than 17.  That was running downhill!  I began to wonder if running was worth the effort.  I still tried, but I wasn’t able to run as often.

Shortly after getting back onto the trail, I reached the self-service aid station.  I needed to top off my bottle to make sure I would have enough to get through the lap.  There was a Gatorade dispenser on the ground.  There was also a water dispenser on a table.  I wanted Gatorade, but I didn’t think my back could tolerate bending down that low.  I topped off my bottle with water.

The heat hit me hard in that lap.  Going up hills that weren’t very steep, I got out of breath.  On the steepest hills, I was staggering slowly until I eventually reached the top.

I knew I could no longer keep my mile times under 20 minutes, but I could afford to give back a few minutes on each hill.  My new goal was 20 minutes plus an extra two minutes for each steep hill.  That made me feel better about my slow progress on the steep hills.  My miles with steep hills were always under 22 minutes.

My time after nine laps was 7:23.  I could break 8:30, even if I walked all of it.  At the aid station, the RD asked me if I wanted ice in my bottle.  He filled my bottle with ice and then added Gatorade.

Before adding ice to my hat, I put on my bandana, which had been soaking in ice water all day.  It was extra weight, but it felt really refreshing, and I only needed to wear it for one lap.

As I started up the small hill after the parking lot, I started drinking my Gatorade.  With the ice, it felt really refreshing.

I could run here and there, but even on the flat road sections, I needed walking breaks.  When I hit the trails, I could only run downhill sections that were too steep to walk comfortably.

At the self-service aid station, I topped off my bottle.  Again, I wanted Gatorade, but settled for water, so I wouldn’t have to bend too low.

The heat hit me even harder on that lap.  Even on small hills, I was getting intensely out of breath.  I was on the verge of heat stress.  My bandana warmed up before I even reached the trails.  The ice in my hat had already melted.

I measured the rest of that lap by the number of steep hills I had left.  The stuff in between didn’t matter.  The first hill was the worst, but I made it to the top, one step at a time.

The second hill, wasn’t as steep, but I still had to take it one step at a time.  Another runner who was also on his last lap easily moved past me on that hill.  It seemed like that happened every time I was on this hill.

After what seemed like a long time, I looked at my watch.  It had read 13.6 after five laps, so I expected it to read 27.2 at the finish.  I was at 26.4.  I still had eight tenths to go.

I kept moving forward past familiar landmarks on terrain that should’ve been runnable, but no longer was.  I periodically checked my distance.  I was at 26.5, then 26.6, then 26.7.  I only had half a mile to go, but there were still two steep hills.

As I made my way up the next hill, I heard conversation behind me.  Two other runners were getting closer.

On day one of this series, I remembered talking to another runner when I was on my last lap.  When I asked him if he was on his last lap, he said he was, but it would have been his last lap regardless.  There’s no way he could’ve started another one.

That’s how I felt now.  To get through this lap, I was pushing myself to my absolute limit.  If I still had one lap to go, I would’ve quit.  I was already in the red zone, and attempting to go any farther probably would’ve ended with a trip to the hospital.

Finally, I reached the last hill.  I still had water in my bottle, but I was too tired to drink it.  Drinking got me out of breath.  I paused to collect myself, and then I staggered slowly up the last hill.  The voices of the runners behind me got closer.

After that hill, I needed to walk long enough to recover.  Then I told myself I could run the downhill to the finish.  I ran for a few steps, and then I had to walk.  I ran for a few more steps, and I had to walk again.

Where it gets steeper, I ran a little more, taking care to avoid the roots.  I was almost to the steps when I heard Lindsay say, “Here comes David.”  I ran the last little bit to get to the finish line.

I finished in 8:17:41.  According to my watch, I ran 27.32 miles.  The actual distance was probably farther.

In addition to my finisher medal, I received a belt buckle for completing all five Jackal Marathons.

I had to sit for a few minutes to cool down before I could stand up for my post-race mugshot.  I didn’t see this photo until the next morning.  As bad as I look in this photo, I felt even worse.

When I could, I walked to the car, where I had a dry pair of shoes and socks.  Getting out of the wet pair was easy.  Putting on the dry pair was difficult.  The hard part was reaching down to put my socks on.  Besides the pain in my lower back, I also had trouble doing that without making my feet and calves cramp up.

As I sat there in the finish area, I realized that I never would’ve started this race if I had any idea how bad I would feel in those last two laps.  Was it worth it?  I’m sure in a few days, I’ll be glad I finished this series, but I paid a price for it.  I’m glad it’s over, and I’ll never do it again.

When I checked my phone after the race, the temperature was 92 degrees, and the heat index was 102.  It was after 5:00, so it had actually cooled down some from the hottest part of the afternoon.  I later learned that the peak temperature was 95, and the heat index peaked at 109.  I’ve never run in weather that hot before, and I was in it for more than eight hours.

There was a tradition of everyone meeting for dinner at a diner in Henderson.  Sadly, that place burned down a few months ago.  Instead, we were going to meet at a restaurant in Jackson.  A few runners were still on the course, including Rob, who had yet to start his last lap.  That gave me time to drive back to my hotel, get cleaned up, and change into clean clothes.  Lindsay was going to send me a text when everyone was ready to leave.

The drive back to Jackson takes about 35 minutes.  I was already getting thirsty again, so I needed a beverage for the road.  I left with a cup filled with ginger ale and ice.

As I was driving back to Jackson, I had the AC on.  It helped cool me down, but at some point, it started to feel unsettling.  I really felt like I was off.  I may have been dehydrated, I may have been depleted of electrolytes, and I was definitely exhausted from the heat.  It was probably a combination of the three.

I knew dinner would be late, and I was starting to get hungry.  I decided to stop at a Taco Bell to get a burrito to tide me over until dinner.  I went through the drive-thru lane, and they asked me if I ordered with their app.  I didn’t.  Then there was a long pause.  After a minute or two, I told them to let me knew when they were ready.  Then they said it would be 15 or 20 minutes.  I don’t order fast food much, but it that normal?  If you didn’t order online, it’s a 20-minute wait?  I didn’t have time for that.

There were a few other fast food restaurants, but I didn’t want anything too filling.  Also, I wanted something I could eat while driving.  A burrito works.  A sandwich or burger doesn’t.  I ended up driving back to the hotel.

When I got to the hotel, I bought another bag of BBQ potato chips.  It was my fifth or sixth bag in two days.  I wanted something with more substance, but at least it was salty.  It didn’t sit well.

I got cleaned up and changed into dry clothes.  Then I drank some water.  At 7:00, I got a text.  There wasn’t going to be a post-race dinner.  It was getting too late, and everyone was wiped out.  That may have been just as well, because I probably wasn’t up to going back out.

I had dinner in the hotel restaurant.  I order a pizza.  I wanted to have a beer, but I stuck with water instead.  I ate my pizza a bite at a time, and had sips of water.  I had to take my time.  If I put too much in my stomach, I might throw up.

I finished a tall glass of water, but I could only eat about two thirds of my pizza.  I got a to-go box for the rest and saved it for breakfast.

I had trouble getting to sleep that night.  My room was too hot.  Once again, it was so hot outside, that the air conditioner just couldn’t keep up.  Each night was worse.  The first night, the room was 69 degrees when I went to bed.  The next two nights it was 70.  On Monday night, it was 71.  Tuesday night, it was 72.  When I went to bed on Wednesday, the room was 73 degrees.  I can’t get to sleep when it’s that warm.

It took me until 3:00 to get to sleep.  I only slept for about an hour.  Then I couldn’t get back to sleep.  I was tired, but I felt better than I did the night before.

By morning, I was passing more fluid than I was drinking.  My urine was clear.  I may have been dehydrated after the race, but now I seemed to be fully hydrated again.

I had no trouble eating my leftover pizza for breakfast.  My digestive system was doing better now.

As I was packing, I found my missing socks.  Somehow, they got stuck inside of one of my hats.

As I was bringing my bags out to the car, I discovered that lifting my bags was enough to get me slightly out of breath.  I may have rehydrated, but I had not yet recovered from overheating.  Driving back to Memphis I still felt a little off.  Lack of sleep accounted for part of that, but the heat took a lasting toll on me as well.

For the first four races of this series, I was careful not to overexert myself in the heat.  I knew if I did, I wouldn’t be able to recover in time for the next race.  If there had been another race today, I wouldn’t have been able to run it.  I wouldn’t even start.  Just doing normal things was difficult.  I pushed my body too hard, and it will take time to recover.

I was able to push myself to finish only because I knew it was the last day.  I think that was also true for several of the other runners.  This race was harder than the other races in this series, and it was on the hottest day.  Thankfully, it was also the last day.

These races were tough, and the weather was brutal, but I have high praise for the RD and the volunteers.  They go out of their way to welcome you, and they give you what you need to keep going and finish.  I didn’t get to know many of the other runners, but everyone I met was friendly and full of encouragement.  There are some badass runners in this group.  I’d love to have a chance to get to know some of them better, but I would need better weather conditions. 

Race statistics:

Distance:  officially 26.2 miles, but actually farther

Time:  8:17:41

Average Pace:  18:59 per mile (based on the official distance)

First Half:  3:51:25

Second Half:  4:26:16

Peak temperature:  95 degrees

Peak Heat Index:  109 degrees

Marathons/Ultras in 2025:  16

Lifetime Marathons/Ultras:  551