It has been some time since I shared my thoughts. As warmer weather arrives, I and others have been occupied. It isn't easy to believe that Grandma’s is only a few days away and that Afton is less than a month off. This is followed by 12 weeks to the Superior 100! Should I commence training at some point?
I have been riding a bicycle, and I have also been running occasionally. I am apprehensive about the potential for knee pain. I have run a few times with occasional pain, but nothing severe thus far. Why do I harbor these doubts? I have been logging approximately 15 to 20 miles per week for several weeks and biking over 125 miles per week this month.
The past five weeks have been filled with tennis. I officiated the NCAA Regions, followed by a week of the NCAA Championships, a junior event over the weekend, and then to Hilton Head, where I had my first opportunity to chair officiate a professional event. This was a privilege. I had the opportunity to work with some of the most skilled players and officials in the world, who mentored me as I improved my abilities. In addition to my regular job, I have logged approximately 70 hours per week.
The weather in Hilton Head was exceptionally hot, and despite attempting a few runs, the 95-degree temperatures proved to be quite challenging, even on the beach. I was pleasantly surprised to witness a significant influx of jellyfish washed up on shore. Upon returning home, I found temperatures dropping to a more comfortable 60 degrees, which I eagerly anticipated.
Having recently completed a month-long tennis training regimen, I now have ample time to prepare for the upcoming 100-mile run. While I have a 12-week training period, I am uncertain whether it will be sufficient. Injury is the primary concern that led to my second attempt at the run, and I sincerely hope that it does not recur. Several friends have expressed enthusiasm about their initial attempts, and I would relish the opportunity to participate with them. The support provided by fellow runners, both in remote wooded areas and at designated stations, is crucial.
As we approach the event date, we are considering planning trips to the northern regions to complete the course. I have a tennis schedule for the weekends during this period, but I intend to make additional runs to the 55-77 mile stretch. (I recall that this segment presented the most significant challenge for me last year, possibly due to unfamiliarity.)
Tomorrow, I will embark on a run exceeding 12 miles for the first time since February. I will be visiting my grandmother’s residence next weekend. As I often say at work, why must I attend? This would mark the 24th consecutive year that I have completed Grandma’s 100-mile run, and I am determined to continue this tradition. The event is anticipated to take well over five hours, but I have completed it on numerous occasions over the past 23 years. My completion times have varied from just over three to just over six hours.
On Father’s Day, I reflected on my past. Growing up in an abusive household, I never developed a close relationship with my father. The memories of his violence are vivid, but I cannot recall any instances of kindness. I harbored deep resentment towards my mother for choosing to remain with a man who repeatedly inflicted physical and emotional abuse upon her.
After graduating from high school and escaping his abuse, I finally began to engage in conversation with my father. However, our relationship was strained, and it was only after the birth of my son that we started to mend. On Thanksgiving Day in 1994, my son visited his father’s farm, where he had undergone a right-hand amputation in a barn accident. Despite the ruling that the accident was accidental, the already fragile bond between us had deteriorated beyond repair.
Since then, I have maintained minimal contact with my father. In the spring of 2006, a close friend encouraged me to reconnect with him, believing it was the right course of action. However, this attempt was short-lived, and I have not spoken to him since. Today, I find myself grappling with a sense of bitterness and sadness.
Like many fathers, I engage in conversations with my father, often contrasting our differing parenting styles. I love that quote from Parenthood, "We need a license to drive a car, to get married, but any shit can be a father." While my father’s approach was characterized by controlling anger and demanding perfection, I instilled in my son a sense of individuality and self-reliance. I emphasized the importance of following one’s heart and doing the best one could, and I am proud of the positive impact this approach has had on his life. Currently, he is thriving in Germany.
Despite the challenges of Father’s Day, I managed to engage in a productive day. I completed an 11-mile run, although my pace was slower, averaging 12 minutes per mile through the woods. My knee was stable, and I also embarked on a 26-mile bike ride. The weather was pleasant, although the anticipation of Father’s Day cast a shadow over the otherwise enjoyable experience.
During the run, I had some quality time to reflect on my past. I deeply pondered how I felt lost before 2006, struggling to make ends meet while raising my son and generally experiencing unhappiness. I recalled meeting Dana in February 2006. She had recently lost her husband in an accident the previous year. We were both deeply lonely and, frankly, lost.
Ten years younger than me, we were merely friends. Dana had aspirations to remarry and have children, while I had come to terms with my fatherhood. Despite our differences, we formed an extraordinary connection. Our bond was unparalleled within a short period. Together, we embarked on a running journey to complete an ultramarathon. We supported each other through challenges, shared laughter, and experienced moments of vulnerability. Our friendship blossomed into a deep bond.
There have been several exceptional friends in my life, but none have compared to Dana. She brought an unparalleled sense of happiness into my life. As the famous quote by Forrest Gump aptly states, “We were peas and carrots.” Tragically, in July 2006, Dana was lost in an accident. I never truly shed tears, nor did I fully comprehend or accept her loss. While our relationship was brief, Dana possessed an extraordinary understanding of my hopes, fears, and aspirations. She was truly exceptional, and I deeply miss her.
In essence, where does this lead? Running, relationships, happiness, and being a responsible father share many similarities. Regardless of our efforts to achieve perfection, it is an unattainable goal. We cannot control the emotions of others, the elements, injuries, or the social impact of the world we inhabit. However, we can control our reactions.
Over the past few months, since my initial attempt at running 100 miles failed, I have lost my ability to respond without regret regarding my running. I have second thoughts about whether I should have quit. These thoughts extend to my relationship with my father, prompting me to question what I could have done differently. Similarly, I reflect on my interactions with friends, wondering how I could have been more different. Ironically, I find myself drawn to relationships similar to my father’s, albeit without the violent aspects. These are difficult to accept.
I have come to realize that sometimes, no answer is the most appropriate response. Instead, we must learn to accept it and move forward. Just as the knee injury temporarily halted my running, I am still recovering from it. This is what we must do: persist with what we have been given or what has been taken away from us.
Yesterday, before Grandma’s Marathon, I went for my final run. According to Garmin, I struggled to maintain an 11-minute mile on Tuesday. I felt more like a wobbly creature, akin to the wobbly creatures that move without falling. I was out of sync with my running form. However, yesterday, on the same course, I managed to complete the first two miles in 18:40, exceeding my previous time by over 1 minute and 30 seconds per mile. I felt fine. The return trip took 18 minutes and 47 seconds, resulting in a significant improvement of over six minutes on the same four-mile run overnight. I pondered the reasons behind these fluctuations but ultimately concluded that some days we perform optimally, while others are less productive.
This marks the 24th attempt at Grandma’s Marathon, and I must admit, I feel a sense of trepidation. While I am not overly concerned about my physical capabilities, I am somewhat superstitious. I commenced this endeavor 24 years ago, with the ambitious goal of completing 655 miles on the same course over a span of 25 years. While 655 miles may not appear substantial to seasoned ultra-marathoners, the realization that I am so close to achieving this milestone fills me with a profound sense of accomplishment. It is akin to being 92% there, having run 92 miles out of a potential 100. While the analogy may not be entirely precise, the prospect of encountering unforeseen challenges after 90 miles of the 100 is undoubtedly daunting.
My approach for this year’s marathon will be centered on maintaining a consistent heart rate within the 125-130 range, regardless of the circumstances. My primary objective is to ensure a successful completion of the race. My knee condition is currently satisfactory, and this will undoubtedly be a significant factor in determining my ability to perform at my best. I intend to either register for the Afton event scheduled for Tuesday or request an MRI examination. The allure of Afton is irresistible, and I am eager to participate.
Over the past two weeks of training, I have experienced a gradual improvement in my physical condition, and I am once again below the 250-pound mark. When I attempted the 100-mile race last year, I weighed 236 pounds. I am hopeful that over the next ten weeks, I can successfully lose 20 pounds, thereby achieving a weight below 230 pounds for this year’s attempt. While a lower weight would undoubtedly enhance my performance, I am committed to progress, taking each step as it comes.
I have a scheduled meeting this evening, which will take place on the third night of this week. Additionally, I am considering taking a short day tomorrow and heading to Duluth at approximately 7 PM. My routine involves sleeping in the car with my running gear, proceeding to the bus via a sleepwalk, and preparing for my run. Afterward, I take a dip in the lake, dry off, and drive home. This practice has been a consistent part of my routine for the past decade, and I extend my best wishes to all those residing in Duluth, wishing them well-being and continued success.
Well, I have successfully completed my 24th consecutive Grandma’s Marathon. Despite the absence of suitable training due to a knee injury, I remained determined to participate. I departed from Bloomington at approximately 7 PM on Friday, adhering to my pre-planned schedule. Once again, I arrived at Duluth just before dusk, collected my race packet, and retired to my vehicle for the night.
Unprompted by an alarm, I awoke as the buses arrived at the DEC for the half-marathon. The weather conditions were unexpectedly clear, despite the anticipated precipitation. While the bus ride could have been more uneventful, I arrived at the starting line and prepared for the race. After 24 consecutive years, the routine had become second nature.
The race commenced without incident. It took me over five minutes to cross the start line. My pace was approximately 10 minutes per mile, and I felt comfortable. My heart rate remained at around 130 beats per minute, indicating a satisfactory level of exertion.
However, I was surprised when someone called my name, and there was Karen, seemingly engaged in a stroll. It was a pleasant encounter, as one would expect given my 23rd year of participation.
Everything appeared to be progressing smoothly until the halfway mark, when I experienced pain on the inner side of my right knee. I attempted to alleviate the discomfort by walking for a period. Subsequently, I resumed running, and the pain shifted to the outer side, reminiscent of the severe injury I had sustained in the past. This unexpected development left me feeling distressed and apprehensive, prompting me to question my ability to complete the race. Nevertheless, I recognized the importance of finishing and remained resolute in my determination.
In response to the challenges I faced, I opted to endure the discomfort and perform to the best of my ability. I completed the race in just over 5:30, which was a 15-minute improvement from last year’s performance. However, it is essential to note that this time is significantly slower than in 2006, by over 80 minutes.
On Monday, I experienced pain in my knee. Upon waking, bending it was painful, but as the day progressed, I developed more general muscle pain than knee pain. Consequently, I have decided to take a few days of rest and resume running. If the pain is only mild, I will proceed with Afton next.
As a side note, my Garmin 405 recorded 18 of the 26 miles at 1.0 miles, while the remaining miles were recorded at 1.01. I would like to know if the elevation change during the race exceeded 4,000 feet. I am seeking assistance in verifying this information, as the 405 is more accurate in measuring elevation compared to my Garmin 305. If anyone has specific information regarding the elevation change, I would appreciate it. The 405 is significantly more reliable in this regard. I would consider wearing both devices if I had my Garmin 305 at home.
"I always loved running...it was something you could do yourself and under your own power. You could go in any direction, fast or slow as you wanted, fighting the wind if you felt like it, seeking out new sights just on the strength of your feet and the courage of your lungs." - Jesse Owens.
This quote profoundly encapsulates my approach to running. I have dedicated my writings to exploring the motivations behind our running habits, the benevolence that emanates from a well-developed heart, and the tranquility we find amidst life’s challenges. Recently, I have expressed concerns about certain aspects of my body. While the passage of time remains evident, the possibility of injecting oil into my knee has proven satisfactory. I have experienced no adverse effects following a minor knee pain during Grandma’s Marathon.
On Thursday, I embarked on a 19-mile run, albeit at a leisurely pace, averaging approximately 13 minutes per mile. I felt remarkably robust, akin to that of a 45-year-old overweight individual.
Interestingly, I utilized my Garmin devices for the second segment of my run. I calibrated my older Garmin 305 (27 months old) to replicate the functionality of my newer Garmin 405 (6 weeks old). Additionally, I configured my 6-month-old Garmin 305 to use automatic splits at one-mile intervals. The results are presented below for your reference.
305 (old one) 305 New 405
Miles 11.06 10.07 11.02
Split Dist (out/back) 5.54/5.52 5.48/5.39 5.53/5.50
Elevation (up/down) 2095/2045 3305/3308 2497/2490
In my previous testing of the 305s, I observed that they yielded readings within 1% of the desired value when worn on each wrist. This is the first time I have configured the 305s differently, and I am intrigued by the significant impact of the auto-lap feature.
While I acknowledge the limitations in precision of these watches, I maintain my belief that they serve as valuable training tools. My consistent readings on the same courses, within a 20-foot radius, reinforce this notion. However, I intend to validate my theory further at Afton.
This weekend, I had planned to visit the Anderson Center (RTA), where Adam has prepared a modified course, known as a “mini-superior,” that omits roots and rocks but retains the terrain. However, I was unable to attend due to time constraints and a desire for an easier course for the longer leg of the run.
Following my 19th-place finish yesterday, I completed the Afton 50K entry by printing, folding, and affixing the stamp. I intend to train diligently this week and assess my performance on my first hilly and rugged course since the onset of knee pain. I anticipate an enjoyable experience, as this race will determine my eligibility for the 100K.
Last year, I harbored doubts about my readiness for the 100K, but I gained valuable experience before withdrawing from the race. If my time and exertion remain comparable to last year, I will reconsider my participation. Despite the subpar training regimen, I am nearing my pre-race condition, excluding a 10-pound weight gain.
If Afton’s performance is satisfactory, I intend to wait two weeks before resuming the Wednesday evening session at Hills. Last year, I visited Buck Hill and conducted anywhere from ten to eighteen repeats every Wednesday for five weeks. This training regimen was crucial to my preparation, and I would not recommend it to anyone, including the 50-mile runners, as it could significantly enhance their performance. It would be enjoyable to have others join me. Buck Hill is my preferred location. I depart from Bloomington at 4:45 p.m., so it would be convenient for those who wish to carpool.
Regardless, I look forward to seeing many of you at the commencement of the session and then returning for a brief period. However, I am prepared to accommodate any reduction in pace. I am aware of numerous male egos that would not tolerate slowing down and subsequently lost their passion for running. Unfortunately, people focus excessively on speed and performance (I acknowledge my own achievements), while overlooking the significance of the individual, as Bill Bowerman aptly stated: “If someone claims to have run 100 miles this week, disregard their statement. The difference in distance is insignificant. The essence lies in the individual, not the miles run.”
Carry on!
