Indiana  Bank Veteran's Day Marathon

I picked this event to do a November marathon for two reasons:

1. It was an inaugural marathon in Pennsylvania and I have a minor goal of trying to do as many PA marathons as I can because it's a lot cheaper than traveling all over the country to be a 50 stater.

2. Registration for the event was only $26.20!  They promised a low-key affair and that's what it was.  Shirts, if we had wanted them, were $12 extra.  No awards and only a dog-tag on a little chain for a finisher medal.

Actually, another reason to go was the appeal of the area.  The race started and ended in the Village of Black Lick, which is situated a few miles north of Blairsville and about a dozen south of Indiana, Pa.  The races went along the Ghost Town Trail, above the Black Lick Creek.  OK, do these names get your attention?  A little background is in order.

This entire area, roughly 50 miles east of Pittsburgh, is former coal mining country.  The Black Lick Creek is so named because there were seams of coal exposed that the water would brush against.  Over a hundred years ago, the area was being mined for that coal.  A railroad was built and towns and mills sprung up to process the ore.  It's all petered out now.  But the railroad bed was turned into a crushed limestone trail and that's where the marathon (and half-marathon, which Carolyn did), were being held.

The topic of the effect of coal on the region seemed to dominate the weekend.  Driving to the area on Saturday, we passed signs about 15 miles out for Nanty Glo.  Wondering how a town got that name, I checked it out later on my iPad and discovered it was another name for the same creek, a Welsh term which means "the ravine (or brook) of coal".

After we checked into our motel, we drove out to find Saylor Park where the race would start.  Then we drove a couple more miles up the highway to Whitey's Peetza in Coral, Pa., where we picked up our numbers.  The backdrop to this little town is the Homer City Power Plant.  We were headed into the area right about 3:30 when a lot of people had just gotten off the day shift and they were in a big hurry to get out of there.

Later I looked up the Homer City plant and discovered that it has the reputation as the dirtiest coal-fired plant in the country.  GE is being paid 3/4 of a billion dollars to clean it up!

At Whitey's we had a conversation with the President of the Indiana Road Runners.  He'll be going on his fourth term as other members seem to have little interest in running the club.  I told him about Pike Creek Valley R.C. and that we had a president who could relate to his dilemma.

For a marathon, 9:00 A.M. seemed to be a late start.  But then we were dealing with a day which was going to be warm and the odds are that in any given year it could be a much cooler, blustery day.  We got to the park the next morning at 8:00 A.M. and after walking over to check in - through quite cool air in the valley where the park is located, we hurried back to sit in our car for a while and to warm up.  We felt better once the frost on the picnic table in front of us had melted as the sun rose over the hills.  

The prediction was for temperatures to reach the low 70s.  I had decided to go with a singlet, shorts and the cheap pair of gloves in our goody bag.  We watched as many of the runners were walking around way overdressed.  They were dressed for the way it felt before the event, not how it would feel at the end of it.  Oh well, live and learn.

The course description for this former railroad bed trail along the Black Lick Creek, was "fairly flat".  Well, of course, railroad beds can not go up at a steep angle because it would be difficult to control the trains.  But the problem was that the out and back course climbed for almost the entire 13 miles out.  Initially, I figured that running uphill for the first half would save my quads and they wouldn't be beat up when I turned around and went downhill.  INCORRECT!  In fact the continuous uphill running beat me up.  It probably didn't help that I ran the first five miles in about the same time as I ran the first five of the Hartford Marathon, which only rolled a bit by comparison.  So by 12 miles I was already feeling like I had had it.  My quads hurt, a left glute muscle was tight, a right adductor was screaming at me not to run.  I hit halfway in over 2:12 and I knew I was cooked.  It was going to be a slow time getting back.

Oh, did I mention my shoes?  At six p.m. on Saturday, I discovered that I had not packed the lighter shoes I intended to use for the race.  All I had were the shoes I had on - much heavier trail shoes that I had actually retired from running and used as everyday shoes.  Well, I had no choice.  The heavier weight might have had a small effect on my running, but the bigger issues were the 13 miles of uphill and the warmth of the day.  Several miles in, the temperature had gone up 20 degrees and in many areas I was exposed to the direct sun.  That was one slight aspect of the return that helped - then I was getting a mild breeze to help keep cool.  

This trek felt like I had hit a wall at 12 miles, which is as early as I've ever felt that way in a marathon.  Consequently, by mile 15 or 16, I was already doing a lot of walking.  It just hurt too much to try to stretch my legs out into a normal running stride.  I was feeling overheated at times and my breathing sounded like I was finishing at 800 sprint.  I knew I was having a bad day and decided discretion was the better part of valor.

I used my walking times to get a better look at the scenery.  The Black Lick Creek below was mostly a rocky, rush of green-colored water, dropping at a greater rate than we are used to in Delaware streams. [After posting, I have learned that the greenish color is most likely the result of dissolved limestone] But again the former presence of old King Coal had left it's evidence.  Rocks on the edge of the stream were tinted orange from the chemical processes used in treating the ore.  Sections above the trail were composed of what appeared to be black refuse from the treatment process.  A few sections near the trail had dirt with nothing growing on it, unable to support life with the chemical stew present in the soil.  

I don't want to paint a distorted picture.  The towns were gone with only plaques to commemorate where they had been.  One person told me the area looked much worse several decades ago.  There were hills on both sides of the stream.  Springs sent little rivulets of water down the layers of rock on the side of the trail.  One of the coolest sights I saw was while I was running where a small hill had been blasted for the railroad passage to go right through it.  The steep little valley that was created was suddenly many degrees cooler and both steep sides had been taken over almost entirely by mountain laurel which found the conditions perfect.  In other areas along the trail, the roots of trees, which only seemed to be half in the ground, were wrapped along layers of rock, providing more stability to keep them from toppling.

At the 19.5 mile aid station, I asked a young guy if I could use his cell phone.  I knew I was going to be way over my target time and wanted Carolyn not to worry.  I was a bit discombobulated and called our home phone number twice before realizing I needed to dial Carolyn's cell phone number.  Finally, I left my message and ambled on.  I spoke to a younger runner who was also obviously hurting at that point and then moved forward.  

A mile or so later, the guy went by me in one of my walking periods.  He had latched on to a couple of other runners.  In this section, my mile splits were all over the place:  18 minutes when I had to get a pebble out of my shoe, then 13, then 16.  Somewhere around 23 miles I felt slightly better and "picked it up" to a sub-13 minute mile.  I caught up to the younger guy at mile 24 and asked if I could join him. It was obvious he was hurting more than I at that point.  I saw no reason to push myself,  What did it matter if I was a few minutes slower?

The guy's name was Eric and he was doing his first marathon.  His brother was a dedicated 50 state runner, having done 30+ already.  I got the impression that Eric had been inspired by attending a few of his brother's races.  Occasionally we threw in some jogging, but Eric was hurting.  At one point one of his calves cramped up.  I told him to flex his foot upward to counteract the cramping.  It seemed to work.  Eventually we made our way to the finish in 5:22:02.  Carolyn was there waiting, having finished her half-marathon in 2:59:15.

So was it me or was it the course?  Probably a bit of both, plus heavy shoes.  But here's the bottom line:  The course had been certified as a Boston Qualifier, but I checked the results of the 93 finishers.  Only the male and female winners, plus two other males qualified out of the entire field.  That's pretty clear evidence that this sort of course on that warm a day (for November) made it too tough.

Later that day, after cleaning up, we headed up to Indiana, PA, which is somewhat of a college town, and found a place to get some food and brews while watching the start of the Eagles game.  At least I enjoyed the first half.  Getting back to our room, Carolyn crashed quickly and got about ten hours sleep.  I never sleep well the first night after a marathon.

The next morning while getting breakfast at the hotel, the theme of the weekend came up again.  Other than ourselves, the dining area had a half dozen guys in it.  They was working class type people.  Apparently they were part of the crew who had been brought in to clean up the Homer City Coal Plant.  We overheard one guy talking about how he didn't have permanent work back home and he didn't know whether he should move or not.  Some work - cleaning up a coal plant!

Recommendation:  I imagine that if one is used to doing long runs which involve long stretches of moderate uphill running and downhill running, this course would be a lot easier to tackle.  It's certainly pretty.  I would imagine that in the future they will have to raise the price. Don't run it for a PR, but for a scenic trek.

Addenda:  The Blacklick Watershed Assn. notes that the water is subject to pollution from 300 former mines and 170 coal refuse dumps.  As of 1990 Indiana County had had over 6,000 gas wells drilled.  Now in the fracking era, there is more controversy about fracking liquids getting into the streams.  

Fox Valley Marathon

+You know you are addicted to the marathon distance when you decide to fly out to Illinois and stay two nights just to run a marathon in that state (Illinois -+-14th state for me).  By the time I had settled on doing this one for a September marathon, the field was already filled, except for the slots available to people who made a contribution to a charity.  I chose the Northern Illinois Food Bank and I was in.

The events (Half-Marathon and 20 Miler as well as Marathon) were held in St. Charles, Illinois, about 40 miles west of Chicago after I flew into Midway Airport.  The town was easy to figure out, with the main east-west street having the Best Western I stayed at about a mile out from the Fox River.  The expo and number pick-up as well as the race starts and finishes were all just a couple blocks off that street, just across the river.

The events were run mostly along a tree-lined paved path along the river.  With 2,400 participants among the three events, all starting together, the organizers sent people off in waves of about a hundred.  I had positioned myself behind the 4:20 (9:55/mile) pacer, figuring I'd be really happy to do that time, having not yet run under 4:28 in 2012.  Starting this far back, it took about ten minutes to move up to the starting gate. But, with the wave start and people cramming together to get through the narrow starting area, I was left behind the pacer in the next wave.

As I started out, in cool 50 degree weather with no breeze, I felt great and caught the pace group within a mile.  Then I went on past.  I started focusing on the next pace group, but wasn't catching it.  So I figured maybe I'd run between 4:15 and 4:20.  This plan worked well for the first half of the distance, but I knew the rolling nature of the path (which had been advertised as flat) was going to be taking a toll on my strength.  

By the time I turned around at 14 miles (it wasn't strictly out and back and crossed over the river eventually), the temperature had gotten up into the low 70s and was taking its toll.  Although I did the first half in 2:06+, I knew the slowing was going to happen.  I started thinking maybe I could do 4:22.  But then I got a side stitch, which was all the way around in my back.  I had to walk it off and did the next two miles at 12 mile pace.  Eventually I felt a bit better and picked it up some, but there were more rolling areas sapping my strength.  Somewhere around 21 miles, the 4:20 pacer passed me.  She said "Looking good!" to which I sort of snickered because I was feeling not so good.

In addition to a timing mat at 13.1 miles, for some reason this course had one at 22.5, meaning we got a split time for the last 3.7 miles.  In those miles, I had to walk again and averaged 13 minute miles.  Who wants a split of that?  48+ minutes of cover 3.7 miles!  Finished just under 4:36, but did win first place in the 65-69 age-group.  Later I saw how the other three guys in the age-group did.  The guy who came in second was only 15 seconds behind me at half-way, but finished ten minutes after I did.  He took 52 minutes on that last stretch.  I can only conclude that I'm only going to perform close to my potential best when the temperatures stay below 60 for the entire event.

The award I received is some sort of an acrylic plastic block (looks like crystal glass) with a winged shoe suspended in it.  The shoe must be plastic.  I'm told these things are done by laser.  The material apparently does not allow X-rays to penetrate.  Therefore, when entering the terminal for my return flight, the bag had to be searched and run through the scanner without the award in it.

Recommendation:  St. Charles is a nice town.  I found one bar that had dozens of beers on tap, and there are a number of other nice restaurants in the downtown area.  Mid-September is still going to have temperatures which get too warm for your best marathon effort.  If you just want to do a marathon in Illinois, this is a nice one.  If you want a better chance to perform well, wait for cooler weather.  Of course, as some of us know, even Chicago, three weeks later could be warm.

Things to do near Salt Lake City

Here are my recommendations based on our limited five-day trip.  This is in no way a comprehensive list of things to do. I am assuming you would want to go out to run a marathon.  There are several in Utah, including one other in Salt Lake City that doesn’t have the severe altitude drop of Deseret News.

First, go for more than five days.  Plan your race for either at the beginning or the end of your trip so that you can do other things that might call for strenuous exertion, either after you have recovered from the run or early enough to recover from the exertion before the run.

Places to stay:  Stay in downtown Salt Lake City.  There are nice options, even pricier options, and cheaper options, like Motel Six and some local non-chain places.  There is a free trolley in the heart of SLC.  There are many restaurants.  We went to three within two blocks of our hotel.  Two of them were run by micro-breweries, Red Rock Brewing and Utah Brewing Company.  UBC had an amber ale, which was the first beer it brewed in 1989, called Emigration Ale.  Of course, I had several of those.

Things to see:

1.   The Temple area in Salt Lake City.  Yes, I know I told someone I wasn’t going to see it, but we did.  Impressive architecture and grounds. (Picture of state capitol with mountains in background taken near Temple area.)

2.   Malls – if you like shopping, there is City Creek Mall (with an artificial creek running through it) right across the street from the Temple area.  There also another mall write in back of the Arena.  Both are outside malls.  Not sure how that works in the winter.

3.   Timpanogos Cave National Monument – less than 40 miles from SLC, this affords a great up-close view of the limestone and sandstone layers in the mountains. Unfortunately, when we went, the tours of the cave were sold out.  But fortunately, it was sold out because we went the day before the marathon and the climb up to the cave was a thousand feet, meaning also a descent of a thousand feet. I had the impression the climb was only a few hundred feet.  Dress appropriately for cave temperature in the mid-fifties.  Do this several days before or after your race. 

4.   Park City – also about 40 miles from SLC, this was a mining town, dating from the time of rushes for mineral wealth.  When the mining petered out, the mining company went into the skiing business and built an early ski resort, using the old elevators of the mine to take the skiers up the mountain. Utah claims to have the best powdery snow, owing to the conditions in which it forms. (I’m just repeating what I read.) The town is somewhat of a tourist trap in the off-season (summer) and reminds me Cape May on a steep slope with unique bright color schemes that some of the houses are painted. There’s a free trolley, which I used several times to go to the bottom of the main street. (Walking downhill was the painful part the day after the marathon.)

5.   Utah Olympic Park – located a few miles from Park City, this was the site of the 2002 Winter Olympics.  Training goes on there year- round.  We took a tour, but people with the kids could do the zip-line, a bob-sled run or the ski-jumping into a pool.  The young future Olympians train for the trick X-games type skiing by skiing into the pool.  Rope courses and other activities are available or being built.  I was mildly shocked at how lightly this facility was being used by the public.

6.   Red Butte Garden – a beautifully kept botanical garden on the outskirts of SLC.  There are hiking trails leading from this area.  The red butte above is visible when one is flying into SLC. There are also outdoor evening concerts at this park, including Crosby, Stills and Nash in August.

7.   The Utah Museum of Natural History:  Across the street from the gardens this is a truly impressive facility – with dinosaur fossils and native artifacts from as long as 9,000 years ago.  There is even a glass-encased room where people are working on newly found fossils.

8.   Freedom Park – the site of the finish of the marathon is a large park.  There is a wood-chip single-track path for runners going around the perimeter (about two miles).  At one corner of the park is Tracy Aviary.  Most of the larger birds are rescue animals, which were injured and could no longer survive in the wild.

This list is by no mean comprehensive, but consists of the things we got to within a five-day span.  Trying to cram all this in a relatively short time meant that we couldn’t spend the time that some of these attractions deserved.

A comment on the weather:  Coming from the soupy Mid-Atlantic region at this time of year, SLC is “different”.  At almost 4,500 feet, the sun seems hotter, apparently with the rays not having to penetrate as much atmosphere.  But the air is usually quite dry.  A day, which Utahans call “humid”, seems relatively dry by East Coast standards.  Although at 98 degree day is hot when you are moving around in the sun, it you are in the shade, it isn’t bad.

Deseret News Marathon  

As I’ve told people before, my philosophy for doing marathons these days is that my last marathon is my last long run for my next marathon.  This means I’m always in shape to complete a marathon within a given month.  However, there are two times per year when finding a marathon is a problem: Wintertime (late December – early January) requires traveling south to find a race; and mid-Summer, in which marathons are even scarcer.

Having done a marathon in mid-June (Canton, Ohio), I started looking for one to do in July.  Choices were slim.  There was one on Lake Superior in Michigan, but travel was prohibitively expensive.  One in Idaho was also difficult to get to and Yellowstone would require a two hour drive each way to visit while there.  But while looking at comments about the one in Idaho, one person mentioned the Deseret News Marathon in Salt Lake City, Utah.  I realized it would be a lot cheaper to reach, with a direct flight out of BWI.  So we planned a short five-day vacation to go with the race.

In looking into the Deseret News Marathon, I learned some interesting information about it and its history.  Sponsored by a local newspaper, the race was over 40 years old and a rather low-key affair with only 600-700 runners.  However, lately there is also a 10K race at the same time, which attracts several thousand participants.  The race takes place on Pioneer Day, which is July 24, a Utah state holiday, commemorating the day that Brigham Young and other Mormons went through a mountain pass and entered the Salt Lake Valley.  In fact the race started at that mountain pass, 3,000 feet above the valley and proceeded down Emigration Rd. toward SLC.  No matter which day the holiday falls on, that’s when the marathon takes place, meaning this year it was to be Tuesday.

Of course, the area residents were more excited about the parade, which occurs in the morning and finishes at Freedom Park and the later fireworks.  In fact we runners would eventually run along the parade route for a block, before finishing on the periphery of the park.

But I’ll get back to my preparations.  In telling various people about my plans and the steep drop early in the course (1,500 feet in the first four miles), I got some good advice: 

Lee Kauffman said I needed to practice running downhill, which I did, but with only a few weeks of it, there was no way I could do enough to be inured to the pounding of the 7% downhill grade in the first four miles.  Dan Simmons said I needed a couple days to get used to the thinner air.  But I was arriving only 36 hours before the marathon.  I suspect real acclimatizing would take several weeks.  Finally Jim Fischer, upon hearing of the grade of the slopes, said I should walk the first miles.

Monday evening I went to sleep about eight p.m.  After all, it was ten back home.  We had to get up at 2:30 so I could dress, eat a little, drink some coffee and use the facilities in the comfort of my room. Carolyn dropped me off less than a mile away from our hotel at the Energy Solutions Arena (home of the Utah Jazz) to catch a bus between 3:15 – 3:45 A.M.  Settling on the bus, I had a conversation with a guy from southern Utah, who was obviously going to run a lot faster than I.

Upon arriving on the top of Big Mountain, the area was lit with floodlights.  There was one big tent where a number of the earlier arriving runners had taken refuge. I looked around for a place to rest.  I had read that there were only rocks and that I should bring newspaper to sit on.  Actually there weren’t any rocks to sit on, only gravel on the ground.  But I spotted a bench for viewing the valley and only one other guy was there.  So I had  a seat.  The air temperature was in the upper 50s and a bit breezy.  So I got out a long-sleeve shirt and my warm-up clothes and felt fine.  I had read that it could get down to 40 degrees before the start.  I was prepared to wear the shirt at the start as well as gloves, but decided to dress sparingly.  (Carolyn later said she was shocked at how some of the runners were over-dressed.)

Between the openings of the valleys we could see the lights of Salt Lake City in the distance.  The other guy was doing his first marathon, apparently inspired by his wife who was an ultra-runner.  He told me that many of the marathons in the West had the same sort of start: get bused out to the top of a mountain and run downhill.  We watched more buses stream up the road with more runners. 

By 5:10 A.M. I had finished my bottle of Gatorade and got in line for a portajohn. This made more sense than wandering off into the brush since it was so dark that outside the lit area I wouldn’t know where I was stepping and the entire mountainous region is RATTLESNAKE COUNTRY.  It took me fifteen minutes of waiting, but I used the time to strip down out of my warm-up clothes and tighten my shoelaces.  It worked out well as I was empty five minutes before the start and so never felt an urge to go during the race.

Ten minutes before the start, the organizers inflated a start line arch under which we would run and told people to line up.  The sky was beginning to lighten up with sunrise still about 40 minutes away.  I took a spot about ¾ of the way back in the line, knowing I didn’t want to go out fast.  Then we were off – a mass of people slowing descending the ess curved road in semi-darkness.  For the first ten minutes, there were no colors, only shades of black and white.

Unfortunately I didn’t listen to Coach Fischer.  I was jogging down the road.  On a flat surface, I might have been doing a 10:30 to 11:00 per mile effort.  But here I was averaging 9:29 the first five miles.  I could feel my quads acting like brakes with every step.  By four miles into the course, I knew I was going to pay for my foolishness as aches were already developing in my quads. 

Then came the longest uphill on the course, a 300 foot climb in miles 6 and 7.  Suddenly I realized that I was indeed over 6,000 above sea level.  I was sucking wind and doing a twelve minute mile.  By the time I got over the hills and begin descending again, my quads were already in pain and my stride began to shorten.  By mile eight I had slowed to the pace that I usually reach at mile 22.  So I resigned myself to the slog.  After all, I had passed a guy in mile five, whose shirt said on the back, “I’m Woody and I’m 80.  If I can do it, you can do it”. (Woody, actually 81, eventually finished nine minutes behind me.)

Meanwhile at least the weather was cooperating.  It was cloudy and, in fact, rained a bit at one point, before I arrived there.  (Rain in Utah is slight, mainly coming from evaporation from Salt Lake forming clouds and precipitating back on to the peaks.) The scenery of running through a mountain valley was great.  After we came down the first descent, we had to share the road with cyclists, who would crank up the hills and fly back down.  Later, cars were also present and that became a bit precarious, avoiding both types of vehicles.  For a few miles the runners kept switching from running on the right side to the left side and back again. Also, while descending the lower slopes of Emigration Road, I noted the appearance of houses along the road and up on high slopes.  This must be expensive property to live on, not to mention that people probably needed a four-wheel drive vehicle for the winter snows.

After 16-18 miles, we entered the outskirts of SLC.  That’s when I realized there were more uphills than were apparent on the course map.  I would estimate at least a 1,000 feel of climbing, meaning there was at least 4,000 feet of descent.  By mile 20, the sun had come out, not helping matters.  I could no longer even jog downhill and thus had some 14 – 15 minute miles in the last 10K. Way before this point I was also sweating, but compared to running in Delaware, the humidity wasn’t bad.  The weather reports later on Tuesday kept mentioning the “high humidity” and how it would go away by Wednesday.  Carolyn and I found it amusing.

Just past mile 23, we turned a corner where two policemen were directing traffic.  One of them was reading inspirational sayings.  As I went by, he said, “There is no education like adversity,” (which, I have since found, is attributed to Benjamin Disraeli).  Pondering that for a moment, I called out as I shuffled on, “Well, then I’m going for a PH.D!” Then I was off toward the finish to earn it. 

In the last few miles, we were running parallel to the route of the parade (the real reason people were camped on the sidewalk that day).  With a mile to go, we turned and ran to the parade route and ran along side it.  I actually heard some cheers and a couple kids stuck out their hands for slaps.  Then we turned again for a hot sunny slog to the finish.  Several blocks down I saw Carolyn waiting, still several blocks from the finish.  Early on I started worrying that she would be worrying about me because I had foolishly predicted a four and a half hour finish.  She easily kept up with me as I made my way to the finish line.  I was barely faster than a walk.  Done in 5:09:02.  Later learned I was second (out of only three) in my age group.

Then it was time was a slow woozy walk back to our rented car.  Because Freedom Park was the site of the day’s festivities, it was impossible to park within it even though there was many open parking spaces.  We had to walk over ¾ of a mile.  My steps were very short at this point and Carolyn had to keep stopping as if she was waiting for a toddler to catch up.

Overall, I’m glad I did this race.  We had never been to Utah and we were satisfied with our visit, although Utah deserves more than a five-day visit to adequately take in what it has to offer(see  story above).  I found my quads and calves more beat up than any marathon since the first time I ran Boston in 1997 when I was at my best and was running for a PR (over 1 hour 45 minutes faster than this finish). It will probably be a while before I attempt a course like this again.  BTW, the guy from southern Utah said that the Saint George Marathon (which many people try to enter for a BQ), while downhill, drops much less and is much more of a moderate drop.

Two Marathons in Eight Days: An Experiment of One


While I have joined the 50 states marathon club, I doubt that I'll ever get around to all the states.  I am just too much of a cheapskate to be spending $$ traveling all over the country.  Maybe a lifetime goal would be to do the Eastern half of the country plus a select few other states.  However, as a semi-maniac marathoner I can still have encompassing goals.  One I picked out several years ago was to do as many marathons in Pennsylvania as possible.  Maryland and New Jersey offer similar possibilities, but don't have as many.

Up to this year, in Pennsylvania I have done: Philadelphia (9 times), Harrisburg, Johnstown, God's Country (Coudersport), Drake Well (Titusville), Lehigh River Valley(Allentown)(2), Delaware & Lehigh Heritage Trail(Slatington) and Bucks County(Yardley).  I have yet to do Pittsburgh or Erie.  But another one, which was impossible before this year, was the Bob Potts Marathon in York, PA.  The reason was that for the first two years it was the same day as the Delaware Marathon, which I had done eight straight times since it was reconstituted at the Wilmington Riverfront.  I WOULDN'T let that streak end.

Several months ago I realized that the two marathons were not on the same day this year, but a week apart, caused by bike races being scheduled by the city of Wilmington on the traditional week for Delaware.  So the marathon was pushed up a week to Mother's Day.  I realized I had the opportunity to do both IF I was willing to chance doing one only a week after another one.  Before now, I have always had a minimum of three weeks between marathons, feeling I needed the time to recover.

But I decided to give it a go.  The way I would do it would be to take Delaware in a fairly easy manner.  I'd walk the downhills to try to avoid beating up my quads.  Then maybe I'd have something left for the Bob Potts course, which was described as flat.

I followed the Delaware part almost to a tee.  I did somewhat jog down the last hill toward the finish.  But I walked as soon as the first downhill on Walnut Street about 3.7 to 4 miles and I kept at it all the way through, logging a mile or two with lots of downhill where the time approached 15 minute for the mile.  However, the day was sunny and warm and the warmth affected me enough that my second half was 12 minutes slower than my first half.  I finished in 5:04, a disappointment since I thought by being conservative I wouldn't slow down later on in the event.

The rest of that day I was pretty wiped out.  Over the next couple days my quads got sorer than I had imagined.  I only ran on Wednesday and Thursday, just a few miles, but by Thursday I was feeling better.  I rested Friday and Saturday and thought I might be able to run under 4:30.  After all, I had run under 4:29 in March at Columbia, S.C. on a course which is hillier than Boston.  So what might I do on a flat course?

Well, I went up to York with club president Ray Christensen.  Aside from the fact that the motel where I had reserved a room didn't have a record of the reservation (but gave us a room anyway at the quoted price), everything went smoothly - well almost: the drive, the packet pick up, the good cheap meal at TGIF, the comfortable beds, the Phillies game (lost - not so smoothly), waking up about the right time, scarfing down a banana and breakfast bar, dressing and driving over to York College.

There WAS that few minutes of panic:  Ray had left the car and locked the door on the way to the portajohns, while I was still prepping in the car.  When I went to exit, the door wouldn't open.  Then somehow, as if fiddled with the buttons, first on the passenger door and then the driver's door, the car alarm, which Ray had never heard, went off.  For over a minute, the alarm honked and I was freaked, not knowing how to open the door or turn off the alarm.  I kept pressing buttons.  When they didn't work, I went back and started pressing them longer.  Finally, the doors unlocked and the alarm stopped.   Don't ask me how that happened.  I have no idea.  But visions of missing the start dissipated. I got out, found Ray, we took each other's picture and we went to line up for the start.

Hey, fella!  Did you forget your comb?


Bob Potts is a small race.  A bit over 500 signed up and ultimately 425 finished.  As such there was no chip.  Just line up and go.  It only cost me 11 seconds to cross the line.  But that first miles told the tale: my legs just did not have their usual stores of energy. I could tell they were sluggish.  I saw Ray and the other faster runners rapidly disappear from my view.  Dozens of runners behind me plowed by, including Dana Casanave, the young woman who had run 54 marathons in 52 weeks in 2010.  She is big for a female runner but is back to the marathon a week routine.  Her example was one of the inspirations for my even attempting this experiment.  But as she went by, I already knew that the verdict  was in: this will be my last time doing them only a week apart, although I won't say "Never".

After the first mile, I slowed right away.  After a first mile in 9:24, I started running miles in the high nines, then I crept over ten minutes.  We went through a dark tunnel through a hill.  On the elevation map of the course, there appeared to be a sharp hill at this point.  Now I knew why.

By nine miles, I was averaging ten minutes a mile, but even slower miles were ahead.  As if to reinforce the idea that it wasn't going to be a good day, other issues presented themselves.  We were running on a gravel surface.  It's forgiving, but personally I prefer macadam.  I always feel like I'm losing some of my speed with the shuffling through the grit that occurs because I don't lift my legs much.  Perhaps sensing I wasn't fond of it, the gravel got some revenge when I apparently kicked some up with my left foot and a small piece went into my right shoe.  It ended up lodging under my heel and I had to stop and empty it out.

That was only a minor delay.  A more major one came at the 11 mile point when I just had to use a portajohn.  That took four minutes.  When I passed the half marathon point, I was only about seven minutes ahead of the previous week when I was intentionally walking.  For bonus punishment, the sky was crystal clear.  Although it wasn't humid, in instances when the sun was on me directly, I was starting to feel warm.  This pattern got worse as the sunlight shifted in the second half of the race for more exposure.

I abandoned all the goals I had made.  I told Ray as he was headed back and I was still headed out that I would be over 4:30 hours.  Yeah!  By quite a bit!

After the turnaround at about 13.5, I had one more insult.  The laces of my left shoe were irritating the tendons to my toes.  This same thing happened during the Boston Marathon and I had to readjust the laces.  Ironically, I had started this run with the laces tied the way I had adjusted them.  But through the miles and warm temperatures, I believe my feet swelled and I probably started off with the laces tight.  So, one more stop.

As the return miles wore on, I eventually reached "terminal slowdown velocity".  Since I just made this term up, here's the definition:  TSV is that speed that a runner slows down to but can maintain without slowing down even more.  Variables affecting TSV can be age (obvious in my case), terrain (such as hills), heat, wind, fatigue and available glycogen.  So in this instance, neither terrain nor wind were a factor.  Warmth was somewhat of a factor.  But the big limiting factor was fatigue - from the marathon the previous week.  I've been in other marathons were I would hit my TSV, which on a flat, windless, cool day is about a 12 minute pace - but I don't usually get there until the last few miles of the marathon.  During Bob Potts I hit TSV by mile 16.  A small part of that was because I was walking through the water stops to make sure I was drinking the fluids, instead of sloshing half of it out of the cups while I ran.  But the rest was just slow running.

I could tell I was at TSV because I was breathing hard, as if I was in a 5K, not a marathon.  My glycogen stores was depleted from the previous marathon and had not totally replenished. The harder breathing was caused by my body having to rely to some extent on more fat burning than usual.  Fortunately, I was taking in calories - first my bottles of brown rice syrup.  When I ran out of that, I started consuming a gel packet, every two miles, starting at mile 20.  After my slowest mile 19 to 20(not counting the times I had to stop) in 12:28, my mile times started to come back down.  My last mile was 11:24. Those last several miles of sub-12-minute pace at least allowed me to salvage the small victory of finishing more than ten minutes faster than Delaware the previous week.  I'm pretty sure without the syrup and the gels, I might have continued to crash.

 Five yards to go!  It wasn't much of a sprint!

I'm recovering much faster than Delaware.  Well, it WAS a flat course.  The quads aren't nearly as beat up.  Perhaps I am somewhat becoming acclimated to the long distances.  I'll be able to tell after resting a few weeks and then attempting the Canton, Ohio Marathon.  I'm definitely planning a better time than my 4:54:13 at Bob Potts.

Read Ray's account at:  www.RunMarathonMan.com/bobpottstrailmarathon12.php

Boston Marathon Qualifying Standards:  Time to Use Age-Grading

I wrote to BAA a number of years ago about the time standards it was using for people to qualify for the Boston Marathon.  At that time, I argued that the standards were tougher for older runners than for younger runners.  Shortly afterwards, definitely not in response to my plea, BAA added five minutes to each age group - mostly in an effort to boost registration numbers, which lagged for several years after the 100th anniversary in 1996.  However, by two years ago, so many people wanted to get in to Boston, that it filled only eight hours after registration opened and a number of really good runners didn't get in.  This past year, BAA adopted an  orderly way of allowing the fastest runners to register before others, who met the standard, but weren't as fast.  For next year, BAA has rescinded the extra five minutes it allowed for most of the past decade and also cut out the extra 59 seconds it was allowing people to use. (No more using 3:25:59 if your standard is 3:25:00.)

These developments have brought me back to my original thought on the standards:  they are not totally fair between the sexes and across age-groups.  The only way to make them such is to use age-grading, a system which works well in the various regional USATF club competitions.

Briefly, here's how age-grading works:  It should be obvious that between men and women of the same age, men tend to be faster runners.  It should also be obvious that as runners age they tend to slow down because the aerobic system of an older runner won't work as efficiently as that of a younger runner.  Age-grading allows each individual to compare their own performance against the best performance of someone of their age and sex.  The individual's time is divided into the world best time and a percentage is derived.  A rough example would be if the world best marathon time for a 68 year old man were three hours and a particular 68 year old man ran the marathon in exactly four hours.  That person's age grade would be figured by divided four hours into three, which would yield a decimal of .75 or an age grade of 75.000.  (In actuality, the times would be converted to seconds for more accurate division.)  Based on observations, runners are roughly classified by the age grades they achieve as follows:  Scores over 60 are considered Local Class; over 70, Regional Class; over 80, National Class, and over 90, World Class.

The standards which were in existence for 2012, had the following age-grades for 34 year-old male and females:  Men (3:10) = AG 65.75; Women (3:40) = AG 62.16.

The standards for 2013 equal these age-grades:  Men (3:05) = 67.52; Women (3:35) = 63.61.  Note that women have an easier standard at age 34: 3.89 percentage points easier under the new standard.  This discrepancy remains, but the gap closes, until the 50 year age group.  At that point, women have, at first a slight disadvantage compared to men, but by the upper sixties, the standards equal national or world class achievements in order to qualify.  Men in the upper age- qroups aren't at much of a  qualifying disadvantage until their eighties.  

Using uniform age-grade standards would eliminate the discrepancies.  I would prefer that BAA pick one age-grade standard that each runner must achieve in order to register.  Just like this year, if too many people enter, BAA could work backwards, making the age-grading a little tougher (instead of adding seconds as it did this year.  In the present computer age, a simple formula could tell each person what grade they need to attain for their age at the next Boston.  Every year of age would have the same age-grade, but a slightly greater time for each additional year of age. The variation with an age group starts fairly small for people in their 30s, a minute or two difference per year, but by the older age groups, one year can mean many minutes difference.

Below is a chart showing the 2013 standards and my standards based on an age-grade of 66.8.  I came up with that grade because it is in between the current standards for men and women.  BAA could come up with its own age grade.  I'm showing only  the oldest age in each age group and have rounded to the nearest minute or half minute for simplicity.  Obviously if BAA thought it was too complicated to have a different number for each year of age, it could come up with a chart like this, which would still have a closer standard of fairness than what it has come up with for 2013.

Age     2013 Men     66.8 Age grade    2013 Women    66.8 age Grade

34        3:05               3:07                        3:35                    3:25

39        3:10               3:10                        3:40                    3:31

44        3:15               3:18                        3:45                    3:42

49        3:25               3:27                        3:55                    3:56

54        3:30               3:36:30                  4:00                    4:12:30

59        3:40               3:47                        4:10                    4:30:30

64        3:55               3:58:30                  4:25                    4:53

69        4:10               4:11:30                  4:40                    5:22:30

74        4:25               4:27:30                  4:55                    6:01:30

79        4:40               4:53                        5:10                    6:56:30

80        4:55               5:00

84        4:55               5:34:30

Summary: Current women's standards are too easy up to their lower 40s, about right in their mid to late 40s, and too tough 50 and beyond. A woman is her late 70s would have to be a very good national class runner and by 74 would have to run a world record time in order to qualify.  Current men's standards are somewhat slightly tougher than they should be up to their early forties (although a single age breakdown with show the standard to be about right or slightly easier for some of the younger ages in a five year group).  In the late 40 and the 50s, men have an even tougher time, but with more time alloted in their 60s and 70s, it's about right until the upper 70s. Ironically, the old standards, used in 2012, were about right for men all the way up to age 74; for women it was even easier for younger women to qualify, but not much more help above age 50.

BTW, in case anyone is wondering if I am lobbying so that it would be easier for me at age 68(which I will be next April) to get in, the answer is no.  The 2013 standards are 4:10.  By my age grade of 66.8, I would have to run 4:08:53.

The 2012 Boston Marathon: The Water Stop Tour

The latest edition of the Boston Marathon, the 13th I've done, is now the most memorable one for me.  Various sources said the temperature reached 87 to 89 degrees, which was a few degrees above the temperature in the 2004 marathon.  But the big difference was the humidity.  In 2004 the air was very dry with a westerly wind at our backs.  This year the morning dew point was 58, indicating more moisture in the air, even though the breezes in the upper eighties evaporated water applied to the skin in a few minutes. Below is the account I sent to my running club, along with added details about the places we went and the people we met.

How many times have I watched the weather forecast for a particular race change from a moderate, favorable one to something that's going to present a challenge?  For marathons, it seems in about one out of three cases, the forecast has gone awry.  Sometimes it becomes more cold and blustery.  Sometimes it's rain. And sometimes it's heat.  Usually when a trend starts to go in one direction six days out from the event, it just continues to get worse as race day approaches.

And so it was with the 2012 Boston Marathon.  A forecast in the low 70s a week out became a prediction of high 80s and no cloud cover with two days to go.  By Saturday the Boston Athletic Association had decided to let registrants opt out if they picked up their number, but didn't start.  About 400 took advantage of that.  But the other part of the decision was to extend the time in which a runner could be officially scored to seven hours from six. (In actuality, it appears everyone who finished was scored, even over eight hours.)  The irony of this change was that club member Mark Lozier had been contacting BAA about extending the hours or an early start several times in the weeks leading up to the race, but kept being denied.  But the weather changed all that.

Mark's dilemma:  Back up to last summer.  Mark had stumbled going down steps at home and injured his right knee.  He got the meniscus operated on in August and 10% was removed.  Having qualified at Mohawk Hudson Valley in October 2010 (where I also got a BQ), Mark registered for the marathon in September.  But as he tried to run again, he was experiencing pain.  Visits to the doctor showed the knee had developed some arthritis at the point of the surgery.  He took a series of fluid injections.  But the knee never came around.  By early this year, he determined that he'd begin  walking and shortened a 12 week program to eight.  The last month he covered 200 miles and got in two 20 milers.  He had decided to WALK the Boston Marathon.  He figured at his walking pace it would take about 6 hours and 40 minutes and thus the angst when BAA denied him, but relief when it decided the field could have an extra hour.

Meanwhile, I figured this race was going to be similar to 2004 when the temperature reached 86.  Then I told myself it was like another long run at the beach and I ran about a minute a mile slower than I was capable of on a good day.  So this time, I figured I could do about 4:45, a time I did in June of 2010 at a warm marathon.  But my calculations were off.  The humidity was higher than in 2004 and in mid-April there was no opportunity to be  acclimated to the heat as I was by June of 2010.

But before the account of the actual run, I'm retelling the events leading up to it:

In July 2010, Mark Lozier and I went up to Massachusetts to the Run the Around the Lake Marathon on what turned out to be a dry evening.  Mark grew up in Lynn. which is northeast of Boston on Nahunt Bay and Lynn Harbor. His sister Elaine and brother-in-law Ed live in the next town over, Swampscott.  They had graciously put us up then and were willing to do the same for this version of the Boston Marathon.  Mark has stayed there a number of times and I just became an extra person.

On Thursday afternoon we left for Massachusetts and got to Ed and Elaine's home at about 9:30 p.m.  After taking a walk on the beach next morning and grabbing some lunch, Mark drove to the Wonderland subway station, the last stop on the Blue Line, which acquired its name from an former amusement park and dog racing facility of the same name.  We bought seven-day passes, figuring they were cheaper, even if we were only going to use them a couple of days, than paying for individual fares.  We headed toward the World Trade Center in South Boston where the expo would take place.  We had hoped to get in early, but they weren't letting anyone in until 2 p.m.  

Outside the expo we met a member of the Boston Athletic Association, who was not only running the marathon, but working in the packet pickup area.  We asked him why the expo was at the World Trade Center, instead of the better location on Boyleston Street right near the finish.  He rubbed his fingers together indicating cost was the reason.  Then he wished us luck and went inside to get ready for the initial rush of marathoners.  We waited in line another 20 minutes, but, once in, got our numbers and left after a fairly quick look around.

We had an important mission - to get to the Samuel Adams Brewery for the tour, a taste of a few beers, and, most importantly, to pick up our 26.2 mugs, which were only for entrants in the marathon.  After another jaunt through the subway system, we made it.  The tour was quite enjoyable, conducted by a young woman named Audrey, who was a communications major at Northeastern University and who was doing this as part of her co-op program.  We learned that this original brewery was one of three the company uses to brew its beers.  Its more popular beers are brewed at the other facilities.  This original and smallest one is where new beers are perfected and where small speciality batches are made.  A number of kegs were on racks aging some of the beers, whose alcohol content can go above 25%.

After the tour we sampled three beers, including the 26.2 beer brewed especially for the Boston Marathon and available only at local pubs.  At this point Audrey held a pint in her hand while leading the group in beer tasting.  She engaged in lively repartee with some of the guys on the tour, telling slightly bawdy jokes.  For instance, in explaining how Samuel Adams had perfected a glass for bringing out the best flavor of its beer, she called it "a nice piece of glass".  While acting like a somewhat drunk bar girl, in fact she was only taking small sips from her pint of brew.  

At the end of the tour Mark and I claimed our 26.2 mugs.  They  are huge and heavy, holding at least 24 ounces.  Perhaps the extra half inch at the top, after pouring two 12 ounce beers into the mug, will hold another 2.2 ounces.  I'm not inclined to test it.  The mug has the neat feature of an elevation chart of the marathon, starting at Hopkinton, high on the glass and working it way down to Boston near the bottom.

Friday was opening day for the Red Sox at Fenway Park.  On our way back to the Wonderland station, we ended up on the subway with some Red Sox fans who had driven from Maine to the end of the Blue Line, and used the subway to get into the ballpark.  On their way back, they noticed our Boston marathon bags and started asking questions.  Three of them were men in their 30s to 40s, but the other was a pretty young woman in her 20s.  As the crowd thinned out, I grabbed a seat and the young woman sat down next to me asking questions about running.

She then told me that her husband was on military duty, but that they planned to run the Falmouth Road Race in a few months after his tour ended.  I asked where he was stationed and I noticed her hesitancy as she said Afghanistan. I did not utter one word about my total opposition to that war, but just wished them a good run after he returned.

________________________

The highlight on Saturday was supposed to be a tour of the Harpoon Brewery.  It turns out that it is only three blocks from the World Trade Center, but since it's only open to the public on the weekend, we couldn't have gone on Friday.  Ed came along with us, but we got off late and were a bit confused about which subway lines to take to get there.  But eventually we made it to the brewery at 3:15, which has tours until 5 p.m.  We stood in line as the two people in front of us bought tickets.  The sales person then looked up and announced that was all for today.  We were sort of stunned after going through all the effort to get there.  But we were determined now to have a beer.  We had noticed an Irish bar a couple blocks before the World Trade Center the day before.  So we made our way back there and walked in.

The bar was packed with a young crowd.  The Red Sox were playing and the game on all the TVs was the backdrop.  We ordered three Harpoon beers and then looked for a little bit of room.  A section of the bar had a reception going on.  We decided to try to sit at a table on the far end of it, figuring the worst that could happen was to get thrown out of the area.  A couple was sitting there, who had also sought refuge after going to the marathon expo.  They invited us to sit down.  

The guy, Kevin Carrothers, was in the marathon.  He was an ultramarathoner, used to doing 100 milers.  Then he began to explain that after an ultra race last fall, he had gotten an embolism in his right calf while aboard a plane ride.  He showed us his calf: the inside had an incision scar in the down the entire length; the outside had a three inch wide swath of fresh skin down the entire length.  Kevin explained that muscle tissue, which had been infused with blood from the embolism, had to be removed and the area had to be open to the air for four days.  He had only gotten back to a little bit of running and said his longest run lately had been only six miles.  But he said, as an ultramarathoner, getting through a marathon on less than minimal training was no big deal.  Indeed, he finished in 5:18:29.  In retrospective, I'm glad we missed out on the Harpoon tour, or we wouldn't have met Kevin.

_______________________

After we finished our brews, we headed back to the subway to make our way over to the Boston Museum of Science.  Elaine and another one of Mark's sisters, Carol, were going to meet us there.  Mark and I had both received an e-mail from BAA about an exhibit at the Museum about the science of the endurance required to run a marathon.  It sounded like a neat exhibit, but when we inquired about it at the museum, no one knew anything about it.  They said there was a room with some old running shoes, but that was it.  Somebody really goofed up on this one.

After seeing an Imax film on ancient Greece, we headed to a local restaurant for food.  As we did almost every evening, we watched either the hockey game (Bruins or Flyers) or the Red Sox the evening they got pummeled 18 to 5.  Bruins fans were rooting for the Flyers to beat the Penguins.  In fact during the marathon while on Commonwealth Avenue, where all the young crowd was partying, I saw a guy with a tee shirt that had on it "I Hate Sidney Crosby".

_______________________

Sunday was a quiet day.  While I went for a 3.5 mile loosening up jog, Mark walked, again by the beach.  Later, we went over to Mark's sister Carol's house for a pasta dinner (and to watch the Flyers and Penguins mix it up).

_______________________

Monday morning we were up by 5:30.  Ed had driven Mark to Boston Commons  where the buses were lined up to take us out to Hopkinton before several other of the marathons, so the plan was to do the same.  Mark said if we left at 6:30, it would be no problem.  But as we drove over the Charles River into Boston, the traffic came to a stop.  It took a half hour to get off the bridge.  For some reason, with the marathon that day and the Red Sox game starting at 11:00, transportation officials had decided it was a good day to close a tunnel, forcing all the cars coming off the bridge to choose other ways to go.  We finally got to Boston Commons at 7:30, about the time the last bus was officially scheduled to leave.  Mark knew there would be buses almost until eight and sure enough there were.  We got on one in the last set of them.

While standing in line for the buses, we started a conversation with Raul Olmo, who is from the Philadelphia area.  Raul, who is about 50, works in construction and has also coached kids in running.  He had similar issues to Mark with osteo-arithritis in his knees.  They talked the entire time on the trip out to Hopkinton and Raul gave Mark renewed hope that the shots he took may just not have been in the right spot.  Mark still hopes to get back to running after talking with Raul.  By the way, Raul, who was probably in 3:20 shape, ran 3:45:55.

Meanwhile I was sitting with Susan Powers from Florida, who had stayed in a hotel just across the street from where the buses were picking people up.  Her husband was starting in the first corral and was already on his way to Hopkinton.  She waited until the last buses was leaving.  Like me, she had started running relatively late in life, but was very enthusiastic about it.  It was to be her first Boston and she finished in 4:19:51.

________________________

Arriving at the athletes' village in Hopkinton, after the obligatory pit stops, we made our way under a big tent.  It was already in the 70s and I was determined to stay as cool as possible as long as possible.  We found a fairly clear spot, put down some plastic bags, and sat on the grass.  Drinking fluids, we talked.  A young woman nearby heard us mention Delaware and she perked up.  Turns out she was Stacey Black from Bear.  We exchanged pleasantries and I even discovered she intends to take her son for his birthday party to my son's rock gym.  Stacey ran 3:50:27, a great result in that heat.

After the first wave left, the space was roomier.  We applied sunscreen and substances to prevent chafing of various body parts. Eventually we made our way to the portajohns with no lines for one last pit stop.  A few minutes after the second wave disappeared, we figured it was time to go.  Our figuring was off as we ended up in a slow moving sea of humanity.  I realized we were back among the charity runners and would have a hard time getting to our corrals.  We got out of the street and made up some distance on the sidewalk, but never did quite get to our designated corrals.  In the long run it made little difference.  Times are based on chips, but I was annoyed initially that it took me almost five minutes to cross the starting line.

______________________

When the race started I noticed early on the things were going to be different.  After the two initial downhill miles, my pace slowed in chunks of time on each successive mile.  By the first water stop, I was thirsty and I slugged back both water and Gatorade and then went to the water stop on the other side of the road a hundred or so yards up for more water to throw on my head, neck, back and chest.  My legs never felt "runnerish".  My arms got goose bumps (a sign of overheating).  It probably took a third of the distance before my body was starting to properly deal with the heat.

Meanwhile I noticed how quickly the enthusiasm of the participants had dissipated.  By 5K it was quiet amongst the runners.  People had already withdrawn into their focus on keeping going.  There were no easy early miles.  It became the Water Stop Tour.  The water thrown on the body evaporated in less than five minutes and by the time the next water stop appeared (only a mile down the road), the clothes were dry and the hands were hot.  People weaved from one side of the road to the other for the two aid stations at each mile.  BAA had doubled the amount of water available for each runner from five gallons to ten.  Misters and sprays from hydrants had the runners veering to the sides of the road.  Volunteers and ordinary citizens handed out ice cubes, wet paper towels or small sponges, and shot water guns at willing runners.  The focus was not the next mile or 5K split, it was the next bit of fluid to consume or throw on one's body.

__________________________

At about two miles I came upon Doug White and Paul Schweizer.  Doug was attempting to complete his 39th straight Boston.  He's been a great runner for years, but his knees are betraying him.  He'll do one more to make it 40 in a year and then retire.  Doug had told me the previous Wednesday that he intended to go at about 10:40 pace, but that was assuming decent weather.  Since I intended to run about ten minute pace I gave up any idea of running with him.  Paul hadn't gotten into the race officially this year, but was running it accompanying Doug as he has done for years.  

When I came up on them, I joked, "Hey, no bandits at Boston!"  Doug recognized me without looking around and said, "Oh, there's McCorquodale!"  Paul, who had a belt with bottles on it, said that it was a good thing he was there because Doug had forgotten his stuff.  I went on by, having not yet quite heated up and figuring Doug was going slower than I.

After about six miles I happened across an old Hash House Harrier friend from the Philadelphia area who goes by the hash name of Dancing Fool.  He generally comes out to Hopkinton each year.  He's taken a picture of me and Carolyn several times with a gas station sign in the background, to document the rising of prices over the years.  Dancing Fool's thing is to pick up trash.  He's done this on hashes and he does it as a bandit in the marathon.  He's basically walking and jogging and usually jumps into the event beyond the starting line.  He finds trash the others miss, not the stuff that will be cleaned up by the race organization.  When I caught up to him, I said "ON, ON!", the hasher's call that he is on the right trail.  He took my picture as I jogged by.

Shortly afterward, Doug and Paul went by me as I had already slowed.  It appeared they had sped up a bit.  Doug seemed covered in beads of sweat.  Over the course of the race, Doug eventually was slowed drastically by muscle cramps, had to do a lot of walking and finished in 6:15:38.

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Getting through the race was a group effort - runners, volunteers and the hundreds of thousands of civilians.  We runners could not have made it without them - those who weren't running, but who were also there out in the sun for hours and hours, handing out water cups, or gels, whatever individuals got out of their houses.  One woman had a small stand of all sorts of small things runners might need - vaseline, pens, ibuprofen.  Little kids stood and held small dixie cups of water their parents had poured.

And, of course, there were endless words of encouragement, particularly if one pinned a sign on like I did - "Go Dave!"  I must have heard it 5,000 times.  Sometimes, in other events, I've gotten tired of it.  But not this time.  Every "Go, Dave", even if from a guy who had already had one too many beers, was helping to will me forward.

The Wellesley co-eds, just past the 20K split, seemed to be more competitive than ever with their "Kiss Me" signs.  "Kiss Me, I'm from Maine", "Kiss Me, I'm from Cali", "Kiss Me, I'm a Senior", "Kiss Me, I'm Graduating", and my personal favorite (No, I did not kiss her) - "Kiss Me, I'm a Nerd".  For 300 yards, I probably came out of the 12 minute pace I had settled into and "sped up" to a ten minute pace.  So did everyone around me, and when we were past, we settled back down into our ever-slowing slog.

After passing Newton Falls, the lowest spot on the course before getting into Boston, the four successive hills, combined with the effort one was going through to keep the body cool, really slowed us all down.  First a 13 minute mile, then 14 minute mile, then two 15 minute miles.  Eventually everyone was walking.  When I stopped "running" to walk on the third hill, I was breathing so hard that it took me five minutes of walking for my breathing to slow to a semblance of moderate breathing.

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Somewhere in the Newton Hills I passed Dick Hoyt, 71, pushing his son Rick, who has celebral palsy, but whom Dick has brought through many events, including Ironman Triathlons, in a chair.  They start early these days and in that heat it was all Dick Hoyt could do to walk pushing the chair.  He was accompanied by four or five other people along side him.  Concerned volunteers kept coming from the side of the road, asking him if he needed anything. The Hoyts finished in 7:22:20.

Having gone uphill so slowly, the downhills and on into Boston were a bit faster, if you consider 13 and 12 minute paces "faster".  Eventually, I finished in 5:25, over an hour slower than what I felt capable of doing if the weather had been nice.  But what an experience!  I've got many memories.  

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Mark had his own interesting experiences back among the last few hundreds of participants.  Most notably, he met a woman, J. Jill Cummins, who had dealt with an issue similar to his.  She had damaged a tendon in a foot and had decided to walk.  She had a protective boot on the foot.  Mark said she had a totally positive attitude about the situation.  It became even more inspiring to Mark when she mentioned at some point that during the last year she had had a double mastectomy.  She ended up finishing right behind Mark, who hit his 6:40 prediction.

Also around Mark was a guy named Kevin Petrovek, who had done 31 straight Bostons.  He had a problem that didn't allow him to run and has walking.  He slowed and did no stay up with Mark, but finished in 7:14.  There was the woman who carried a sign all the way.  While I was waiting for Mark to finish, I saw her proudly holding it  aloft - "Run with the 99%".  One guy juggled four balls the whole way.  A few moments before Mark went by, there was Dancing Fool again.  I called out and he came over, handed me his camera and had me take his picture.

After Mark got his bag and changed he met up with me and his sister Carol and her daughter.  We had some food nearby, but Mark felt somewhat disoriented, probably somewhat dehydrated from the experience.  At least he wasn't among the 2,200 people who had to get help in a medical tent. Feeling somewhat better, I had one of the 26.2 Samuel Adams beers.  It was OK, sort of a light sort of concoction, but Sam's Summer Seasonal is a much better, similar sort of brew.  

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Tuesday was to be a recovery day before we headed back to Delaware on Wednesday.  We went out and got the Boston Globe and the Boston Herald for their accounts of the race.  Each had a good story by a reporter who had run the event.  

Later we drove up to Salem for lunch.  While walking around after lunch, we went into the visitors center looking for a restroom.  Entering the building I saw a younger guy with the 2012 Boston Marathon jacket on and asked him how his race went before taking a closer look at him.  He turned his face toward mine to address me and I noticed his eyes were sort of darting back and forth as he spoke.  Then I noticed his cane, and realized he was either blind or greatly visually impaired.  Nevertheless, we had a good conversation about our respective efforts.

Eventually, we asked where he was from:  Fort Collins Colorado.  He asked where we were from:  Delaware.  "Oh, really!  I went to graduate school at the University of Delaware."  Turns out his wife, who had been sitting behind us, grew up in Delaware, went to Ursaline Academy and the U. of De.  They had left in 1995.  Travis Trampe ran the Boston Marathon with the help of a guide in 3:20:08.

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All in all, Mark and I were left feeling that our complaints - he dealing with arithritic knee pain and me just getting a bit older and slower - paled in comparison to what some folks went through to complete this event.  We were fortunate to be able to get out there and finish it with over a half million folks cheering us on.  Life is good!