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: 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