Tecumseh Trial Marathon, 2011. (#27)

When: December 3, 2011  

Who: Me and Lesa

Recall: With six you get a twisted ankle.

Overall: I run it for the soup.

Rating: 5/5 carbs    

Since this was my 6th running of the TTM, here are six way this time was the same and six ways it was different from the previous adventures. 

The Same.

1. Lodging. Jill and Randy Peper graciously put us up Friday night. We go back with the Pepers to Penn State where Randy was getting his Ph.D. in veterinary science and now he's the main man over all research animals at Indiana University.

Waiting for the bus to take me to the start. 

(Note the sign referring to us runners as 'athletes'. That's a first for me.)

2. Transportation issues. I was the last person on the last bus and had to stand in the isle with a handful of other runners the whole way to the start. Also, the runner sitting in the front seat was giving the driver directions to the start. Reminds of the year the race director stepped into a departing bus and asked, "Does anyone here know how to get to the start? I need someone to give the driver directions." 

3. Late start. We started about 10 minutes late. Not as bad as other years. Remember, the first year the race director stated, "We'll start the marathon when the last person is out of the port-a-potty. I love this race!

4. Hearing gun shots along the way. No dead or wounded runners were reported. Similar information on the number of local deer was not available. Here's the caution issued by the race director, "We strongly suggest wearing bright colors for your day in the woods. It is still deer hunting season for archery and muzzle loaders." I really love this race.

5. Final time. Slow. And while not a course PR for me it was close. My best time was the first year but I think that year the course was not a full 26.2 miles. If that's the case this was my best time. Other than my right foot and hamstrings, I felt I had more energy for the last few miles. 

6. Soup and sandwich. Even though we had plans for an early dinner with the Pepers an hour after I finshed and I had planned to skipped the soup and sandwich finishing reward, I couldn't pass it up. Delicious. 

"Bring on the soup!"

Different

1. Warm weather. Starting temperature was in the 30s and it had to be in the 50s or close to it at the finish. It was nice to run in shorts and long sleeves.


2. Initial pace. I started out a little faster than usual only to get ahead of some of the slower downhill runners. It's frustrating when you get with a pack of runners who, on the flat, run at your pace but at the first descent, they start tip toeing downhill. Many of these runners are the same ones that pause and ponder at every water crossing. Getting ahed of them proved to be a good idea unless the faster initial pace was the cause of the impending muscle cramps. 

Mile 12. 

(Why with at least 22 miles of trails, the photographer chose to take pictures at a gravel road, I don't know.)

3. Twisted right ankle. While I didn't fall down, I did turned my ankle pretty good between mile 8 and 9. It really stung as I hopped off to the side of the trail. Fortunately, one the initial pain subsided, I was able to run on it without too much problem. I was extra attentive to the trail after that not wanting twist it again. Not sure if it was related but the right heal was so sore over the last mile on the hard and rough gravel road I could barely run. In fact, I was afraid I might have to walk across the finish line. Oh, and not just the usual two, but three black toenails! 

 The Day After and My Ugly Right Foot (lateral side)

  The Day After and My Ugly Right Foot (medial side)

Ugly feet. Please accept my apology. 

4. Major muscle cramps. Near mile 22 there's a good long downhill which, in the past, I have enjoyed "flying" down but this year, right towards the end, my right hamstring knotted up into a painful intricate knot while my left hamstring was on the verge of doing likewise. I had to step off the trail and stretch it two or three times. After that the going was even slower than usual. Run (even) slower, ski fast. 

Mile 23

5. Dr. Pepper. This year I but Dr. Pepper in my water bottle. It wasn't completely flat so the first swig sent a burst of carbonation down my throat. My thought was that during the later miles I need something with a little more sugar than good ol' Gatorade. Other than the excess carbonation, I think it helped. I also tried to eat more for breakfast since the race didn't start until 10:00. So in addition to my usual banana and energy bar I had an egg McMuffin. Why not?


6. Body weight. Good golly. Could I be any heavier? I know I didn't get in as many miles leading up to this marathon and I obviously didn't change my diet. Time to get serious about running more and eating less. 

Sunburst Marathon, 2010. (#26)

When: June, 2010  
Who: Me and Lesa
Recall: Like running through water.
Overall: Surprisingly good time.
Rating: 4/5 carbs                                                                   

Perfect Enough

The first rock and roll song that I remember getting lost in was I'm Your Captain by Grand Funk Railroad. During its 10 minutes of changing tempos and sounds of braking waves, I would sail and million miles away and back again. Those memories returned half way through the Sunbrust Marathon when I ran under a rail road bridge with Grand Trunk Western printed on the side. I thought, that sounds awfully close to Grand Funk. I wonder if that's where the name came from? If so, it would have been perfect if Footstompin' Music, a better running song than Captain, came blasting through my earphones as I ran under the Grand Trunk bridge. Other than that the Sunburst Marathon was perfect. Not prefect in performance but in the experience, which is why I run marathons anyway. 

I decide to run the Sunburst Marathon when it was obvious that the lllinois Marathon wasn't going to work out. For one, I needed the extra month to try and get into better shape plus I had a (white trash) wedding on the day of the Illinois Marathon. A couple of friends, Calvin and Tony, had run Sunburst a few years before and had good things to say about it. The reviews of the race are mixed with the weather being a major issue. On race day, the average temperature in South Bend is 78 degree. A pessimist would also point out the record high is 95! I decided to take the risk mostly because it's the only spring marathon option left.  

Traffic around Chcago slowed us down but Lesa and I still make the drive in the estimated drive time of 4 hours. We enter the city via route 2 from the east to a magnificent view of the South Bend slums. Every other store sales liquor. Lesa points out a welcome sign stating that we are in the oldest neighborhood in South Bend. "Way to keep it real, South Bend. Your oldest neighborhood does look old. Well done." It's a good thing it's still daylight. 

Seeking inspiration the night before

The expo is at the College Football Hall of Fame in downtown South Bend. We circle around, find a close parking spot and pick up my packet. Inside is a cool timing chip, race T-shirt and a bunch of races flyers. The timing chip is imbedded in a plastic strip that you loop throw your shoe laces. Plus, it doesn't need to be returned. Cool. The race T-shirt is white and descent looking, a decent change from previous marathons. After the expo we check into the Residence Inn located about half way between the start and the finish and it's right on the race course; mile 11.5 going out and mile 24.5 coming back. The desk lady tells informs us that with the marathon that the road in front of the hotel will be closed until 2:00 p.m. the following day but we'd likely be able to leave before that depending on the flow of runners at the time. I figure by the time I finish and we're ready to check out, the road will be clear of runners so no problem. 


The room has a full kitchen so we decided to find a grocery store and eat in. After a lot of driving we find a WalMart. Not our first choice but at it's not a liquor store so we pick up a pizza and head back to the hotel. I go to preheat the oven only to find it's a dishwasher. There is no oven. Just a microwave and the pizza we bought does not have microwave cooking directions. We drive to a closer grocery store for smaller, microwavable pizzas. Pizza you ask? Where's the pasta? I load up on pasta and other carbs the 2-3 days before a marathon but the night before I like to eat whatever sounds good and that usually means pizza. I want to watch the Blackhawks in the Stanley Cup finals but Versus isn't available. Oh, well. The Flyers won anyway. After dinner, I fill a water bottle with Dr. Pepper, put it in the freezer and then check out the weather. Lows in the 50s, highs in upper 70s, cloudy with a 30% chance of rain. The only part of that I like is cloudy.

Pre-race forecast

The race starts at 6:00 a.m. EDT and I'm up at 4:20 (3:20 am Charleston time) and take a shower for one, it's a nice shower and I want to get my monies worth and two, I need to wake up. I didn't sleep well but that's usually the case and why I try to get extra sleep two nights before a marathon. After the shower, I down a Cliff bar, banana and Dr. Pepper. I dress, put two small PayDay candy bars in my pocket and swallow two Tylenol and two Exedrin. I'm ready. The plan is for me to arrive at the mile 11.5 a.k.a. the Residence Inn around 7:45 and for Lesa to meet me out there with the water bottle of icy Dr. Pepper, more pills, and a couple extra PayDays. I leave the Inn at 5:40 and walk to the start. The streets are empty except for the police who will be controlling traffic at the major intersections. I cross the river into the downtown area and wonder what is the name of this river? I understand it must bend to the south but I don't even know its name and there's no sign to tell me. I stop at the port-a-potties and arrive at the start just as they begin the national anthem. At the end of the anthem, I step into the crowd of runners, the gun sounds and we're off. No waiting. Perfect timing. 

My two goals are to feel good at the finish and not die for any reason but particularly from a heat stroke. I click into my default 10 minute per mile pace and feel good until two guys in their twenties run past me what a appear to be either wrestling tights or leotards. As they passed, I see Leo Tard One's leotard is a solid color and Leo Tard Two's leotard is tiger print on the back and other different color patterns on the front. I almost lose my Cliff bar right there. Before I do, I quickly look away and hope the Leo Tards continue at their faster pace so I never have to see them again.

We cruise a few blocks through downtown and then head northward. There aren't a lot of spectators but many more than I would except for a 6:00 a.m. race. I wave to as many as I can without thinking that I must look like Forrest Gump. At mile four there's a small a loop to the left. As I turn left I'm met by the runners returning out of the loop. It's kind of fun to look other runners in the face for a change. As I look at the oncoming runners I see either an older runner wearing a surgical mask or Michael Jackson is not dead. I can't tell for sure. The skies look to be clearing and I fear that the sun will be shinning brightly before too long. I decide to play it safe and walk for a few minutes every 3-4 miles just to keep my body temperature down and let the Leo Tards get further ahead. 

Happy to be at Mile 10

Just past the northern turnaround point, I draft find myself running behind GirlA and GirlB who seem to be on the same race plan as me. We run on a cement path along the river. I like running paths. More cozy and intimate than roads. Just passed mile 8 we cross the river whose name I don't know and run around a neighborhood, up a hill and down a path towards mile 11. Fortunately, the skies have clouded over and kept the temperature reasonable but not the humidity which is at 90%! That's great if you're a fish but I find it difficult to run through water. Speaking of water, I feel like a clown fish in my bright orange and gray outfit but Lesa easily spots me as I run towards the Inn. GirlA and GirlB also stop at the Inn. Their boyfriends/husbands are waiting for them there also but Lesa has the key. She holds a water bottle full of slushy DP. Perfect. I want to drink the whole thing right then but I resist the temptation. I take a couple more Tylenol and Excedrin and another PayDay before I leave. Since on the return trip the Inn is at mile 24.5, Lesa will not be able to be there and at the finish line so she's going to leave the DP water bottle bend a decorative rock in front of the Inn. 

Looking south from Residence Inn at mile 11.5

After a brief visit with Lesa, I head down the hill where I see a new looking building labeled Geropsychology Institute. I had to look it up later but Geropyschology deals with the psychology of old folks, like me. How appropriate. Again, I follow GirlA and GirlB to mile 13 where the course follows another cement path along the river whose name I'm not aware of. I'm feeling good and keep plodding along at my 10 minute per mile pace. A tall runner pulls up next to me wearing black compression shorts and a very form fitting yellow shirt. I notice Mr. Skintight before because he walks with a stiff left arm and fingers. Like a robot. At mile 14 we're back on a road and Mr. Skintight and I see the lead runners returning. I feel good that I got more than half way before I saw them meaning if they continued to run the course again, they wouldn't lap me before I finished! Mr. Skintight not only applauds the first few runners but every one after that. "Hey, buddy the 23rd place runner does not want the motivational comments of the 512th place runner. Give it up." 


I take advantage of the next downhill and leave Mr. Skintight behind. At mile 16 we enter a riverside park that's really quit pretty. Again, more paths. I'm still feeling good but GirlA and/or GirlB are fading. At this point not only do I see the returning runners but I also see the course on the other side of the river of unknown name. Initially I thought I would hate a mostly out and back course but like I mentioned early, it's kind of nice to see the faces of the runners for a change. Being able to see that I still had to run across the river, up the west bank about 1.5 miles before the turn-around was not good. So I cranked up the music and thanks to Liquid Soul I made it to the turn around, through mile 19 and back out of the park at mile 20 in relatively good spirits. The free banana at mile 18 hit the spot. The worst part was seeing Leo Tard again, but I did pass him, and an older lady who, contrary to good fashion sense, was wearing a green camouflage running skirt and a bright pick running bra. "Lady, even if you were 30 years younger–no! Not, good."

The last turn before entering the stadium

"So just where is the 50 yard line any way?"

There's a red flag flying at the mile 21 aid station. An official looking woman tells me all that the race has been 'red flagged' and to drink a lot of water. A yellow flag means 'caution', red means 'warning' and black means the race has been cancelled. I know I'm slowing down some but I feel good and I'm moving forward. Good signs. I drink a Gatorade and water to make the race lady happy and eat a bit size PayDay that never really kicks in. I convince myself to run until the Geropsychology Institute and walk up the hill leading passed the Inn. Again, the a red flag is out at the next aid station and I'm bombarded by volunteers that seem willing to tackle and force water down anyone throats who doesn't take a cup. I take a cup out of fear but only drink a sip knowing I have a water bottle of DP waiting just beyond the aid station. The slush is gone but it's still Dr. Pepper. Yum! 

Wow, orange does not make me look slim.

Finishing Before The Rain

The last two miles are less fun but I eventually find myself within the shadows of Notre Dame stadium. This should be cool. Finishing at the 50 years line where Knute Rockne played. To gather energy and inspiration I walk just a bit before entering the north tunnel. I assume that's the Notre Dame fight song playing overhead as run through the tunnel but I can't tell. There's a slight downhill so I "fly" out of the tunnel onto the sacred turf and head for the 50 yard line. I hear the announcer calling out the names of finishers. "Number 189, Jackie 'er Jake Emmett from Charleston, IL." "Jackie? I hate Notre Dame." Okay, the experience was perfect except for that. I get my medal (average), a wet, cold wash cloth (perfect) a popsicle (more perfect) and head out the south end where I find Lesa (she is perfect!). She reports they are calling for heavy rain showers soon so we take a quick picture in front of the Lou Holtz statue more as a joke since I don't even care for the man and begin to walk back to the Inn. We make it a fourth of the way when the rain hits. I don't mind since I'm already drenched but despite the protection from the trees poor Lesa gets a second shower. Not so perfect for her. Back at the Inn, Lesa dries out and redoes her hair while I shower, get dressed, and update my Facebook/Twitter status, of course.

We check out at noon forgetting we left a large, frozen pizza in the freezer. As we drive away we see the mile 24 aid station is closed and all traffic support is gone but we do  drive passed two "runners" still on the course. One, an older man, stops us and asks if he's heading the right way. We tell him he is. Further down from him is a lady limping along with the help of a friend. Wow, that's dedication. I'll bet they stopped at the Geropsychology Institute for a mental boost. 

Me and Lou

We re-drive over the unknown river, through South Bend slumbs, and towards Michigan City, IN. A nice lady at the BP recommends Swingbelly's restaurant on the shores of Lake Michigan where we order hamburgers and then do a little shopping at the outlet mall before heading home. 


South Bend Tribune 

Tecumseh Marathon, 2009 (#25)

When: December, 2009                                                                     

Who: Me and Lesa
Recall: Coldest marathon yet.                                               
Overall: Another great time in the Indiana woods
Rating: 5/5 carbs

What is Mickey Rourke doing in Indiana and why is he “running” downhill so slowly? Of all the people I spend the most time running with during the 2009 Tecumseh marathon, it would have to be a guy who reminds me of a sober Mickey Rourke running like a maimed duck. We start leap frogging each other on the first incline after mile 16. I pass the duck footed Mickey on the downhills. He passes me on the uphills. But, just before mile 18, Big Red Man slows everyone down leaving both Mickey and me stuck behind Red just like the 23 cars lined up behind some Idaho driver pulling a camper up Logan Canyon at 32 miles an hour with no desire to pull over and let other pass. Who know Big Red Man was from Idaho? Being 8 or 9 people behind him and lacking the horsepower to pull out and pass him I convinced myself I’m preserving energy and silently cursed Big Red Man until the trail breaks out of the woods and onto the road just before mile 18 aid station. Such are the issues when running a trail marathon.

Before running into Mickey and Big Red Man, who I name for his bright red XXXL fleece top he was wearing, the day went as planned. By waiting to drive over Saturday morning, Lesa and I were able to be around for Erin’s birthday on Friday. The race doesn't start until 10:00 a.m. EST on Saturday so we leave the house at 4:30 CST and get to Yellowwood camp ground around 8:30 in time for me to pick up my race packet in the campground rock pavilion. The skies are clear and the temperatures must be in the 20s. Burr. I layer on clothing and then catch a bus to the start while Lesa drives back to Bloomington for breakfast and a day of Christmas shopping.

The thing I dread most about Tecumseh is the nearly one hour yellow school bus ride to the start. First, yellow school buses are not comfortable and, second, these buses are driven by school bus drivers who are incapable of reading a map. It’s a good thing there are always a few locals on the bus who know the way. Granted the start is at a remote ranger station and their are many back roads in the Hoosier State but come on! Your a professional driver. Pretend the ranger station is a school and just get us there. Later in the day I hear that one of the other buses hit a deer on the way to the start. Yikes. A common goal for any marathon is to finish but that goal should begin at the starting line and not include the bus ride to the start.

I share the left hand seat of row 14 with a Purdue college student majoring in pharmacology. She has a little bag with gloves, energy bars, and other odds and ends inside. I ask her if she had any EPO or other drugs to help with endurance. No luck. Just Skittles.

What the bus driver doesn’t know about reading maps she makes up for in heat generation. The internal temperature of the bus gradually climbs to a very annoying level of heat perfect for roasting water fowl or chestnuts but not humans about to embark in a 26.2 mile dance with dehydration. I pray a bottle of Powerade offsets the sweat lose encountered on the bus. Between the sunny skies and sitting for an hour in a yellow broiler on wheels I forgot just how cold it really is until I stepped outside! Ouch, that hurts.

As usual the race doesn’t start on time so I have time to get reacquainted with the cold. I decide to start about half way back from the front. Last year I made the mistake of starting too far back and ended up meeting too many runners-who-go-downhill-slowly. This years' strategy works well. There is much less delays on the trail and I seem to be making good time. The two or three times I am slowed down it is because some girl (sorry but it’s true) is tip-toeing downhill with her hands raised above her head or standing still at a stream crossing trying to decided how not to get her shoes dirty. Later I did her one lady tell her female friend, “Now at the stream, just go! Don’t wait.” Good advice.

As I approached the mile 7 aid station I see a white, 2 foot by 2 foot sign with red lettering that reads “run, run.” A few feet later a similar sign says, “Rudolph.” There are more signs to follow along with Christmas music blasting from the aid station. It’s a unique experience to be running along a trail deep in the woods and then suddenly be hit with Christmas signs and music. They even lined one of the foot bridges in green garland! I love it. I notice the race director and thank him for the holiday cheer.

One of my favorite sections of the trail is between miles 7 and 12. It’s mostly downhill and at one point goes through a small pine tree forest! It’s also nice because you aren’t too tired to talk to other runners and you can still enjoy the scenery. In past years I would be running mostly by myself at this point but this year I'm the caboose of a small group of runners. Against my dad's advice, I trip for the first time but get both hand out in front of me to stop my fall just before my face meets the trail.

The short stretch of gravel road after mile 12 is not fun to run on and it's not really in the woods but for some reason the photographer chooses to take pictures here. Of all the beautiful miles of single track trail and he decides to photograph runners on a road. Yuck. Speaking of yuck, the road continues to the top of Indian hill. I know it’s Indiana but I swear this hill is longer and steeper than the 6th North hill going up to USU from the Twin Pine Ranch. Not only does running up it not make any sense, for me and ever other runner around me, it’s not even an option at this point.

Once on top, the brisk western wind motivates me to get running. Before too long I’m back on the trail heading downward, out of the wind and toward another stream. So far, my wet feet have had managed to warm back up after ever stream crossing. So far. The sign at the mile 16 aid stations says the food is free! Excellent. Half of a banana, some Gatorade, a few pretzels and I was ready for the next incline but not before crossing another stream. Rather than wait in line to cross on a fallen trees' trunk I run through the stream. This time my feet never quite warm up until I'm back inside the rock Pavilion.

Beyond the stream is where I first encounter Mickey and Big Red Man. This is another beautiful section of the course where the trail follows a creek through a small valley. The peaceful silence is broken by Big Red Man's loud mouth friend who cruises into the mile 18 aid station shouting something loud and obnoxious about hot chocolate. I had arrived minutes before and his arrival gives me the incentive to take my hot chocolate to go. Of course, "to go" means "walking" so I can drink the warm, chocolate elixir.

For the first time I am running mostly solo and feeling pretty good until I get to the next hill. I down shift to walking mode and get a dizzy feeling in my head. Weird. At the top I begin running and the dizziness is gone. Still weird. From then on whenever I stopped to walk uphill, I get dizzy but it goes away when I begin running. Dehydration? Maybe. Sinus infection. Likely. At least it's spurs me on to run whenever possible. Unfortunately, despite my new found source of motivation, I just don't have the energy to run uphill. It doesn’t help any that I hate this section from mile 18 to 20. I know the math is wrong but its got to be at least 5 miles long and I despise every one of the hidden miles. And what’s more, my forearms start to cramp up. Forearms? Yes, I have cramps in my forearms. Go figure. I have no idea why but the excitement of the sharp descent at mile 21 helps me forget the dizziness, the deception, and my tired arms. Now I can focus on the finish which is just on the other side of Lake Yellowwood.

Mile 23 is at the one end of the lake, say 6:00, and the finish is at 11:00. So I tell my self that I only have to run counter-clockwise from 6 to 11 and I’ll be done. I know it’s strange but that’s how I think after 23 miles. At this point the trail is not as hilly but there’s more mud. A few yards outside the aid station I find myself in another pine forest and...right behind the running duck, Mickey. With his feet pointed outward he is able to run downhill slower than I can walk downhill. Literally. No kidding. You'd swear it was an optical illusion but he really can run that slowly. Let the leap frogging return. I pass him on the downhills and he passes me on the up hills. Distracted by though of running up Mickey's back, I tripped for the second time near mile 23 but, again, both hands go down preventing a face plant in a large puddle of mud. Sadly both hands go down in a mud puddle leaving my gloves so muddy and wet that and my hands refuse to go back inside. I stick my gloves in my shirt back pockets (very handy) and continued on with my hands tucked up inside my sleeves. It's a good thing that I only had to run two miles without gloves since it’s mid-afternoon and getting colder. Eventually, I catch Mickey just before the trail ends at mile 25. Mickey takes advantage of the last aid station but I figured, “Let’s get this thing over with”. The trail is replace by a gravel road that is noticeably harder than the trail and my legs feel it right away but are willing to continue along as long as they are forced to go faster than shuffle mode. It works except for the one last aggravating hill. After the hill I shuffle onward eventually turning left into the Yellowwood campground. As I run the final stretch towards the finish line I see the race director again whom I congratulate on hosting a well organized and fun race. He replies, “Thanks" and adds, "You ran a good race today.” I’m not sure what he meant by that since I finished 405th out of 593 runners but it made me feel good.

Who know Bloomington, IN had traffic jams but Lesa got caught in one and missed me finishing but arrived before I finished my soup and sandwich. Finishing any marathon brings a sense of accomplishment and relief but there’s nothing quite like following a 26.2 mile run in the cold with some hot homemade soup and a delicious sandwich while sitting in a rock pavilion warmed by a roaring fire. It's weird, I know, but it's funny how enjoyable simple things can become after running a marathon.

Tecumseh Marathon Quatre, 2008 (#22)

When: December 6, 2008.
Who: Me
Recall: It was a Winter Wonderland
Overall: Still one of my favorite marathons.
Rating: Remains 5/5 carbs

(The pictures aren't mine or of me. If I get any, I'll add them later.)

I sit down in the last bus seat and the driver calls out, “Does anyone know where we are going?” Normally, not the words you want to hear but this bus was for the Tecumseh marathon, the same race that starts not at 10:00 as advertised but “as soon as the last person is out of the Port-A-Pottie”. Not to worry. The same race director who sets the start time steps into the bus and asks, “Does anyone know how to get to the start?” Two runners who could have played the leads in Bill and Ted’s Excellent Adventure raise their hands. The race director replies “good” and leaves. “Bill” tells the bus driver to turn left out of the Yellowwood camp ground when every other year the buses have gone right. I assume “Bill” isn’t stoned since he’s about to run a marathon but you never know. The runner seated in front me also wonders allowed whether we’ll get to the start. After two hard stops, one backup of 50 feet, and a very slow hill climb we arrive 20 minutes before start time having followed a route that no yellow school bus ever take.



Outside the temperatures are in the high twenties with brisk southwest winds and snow flurries so we all stay on the warm bus and wait. By 10:00 it’s obvious that the race will not start on time. For a second time the race director pops into our bus to announce the race will start in 10 minutes. I wait 5 minutes and go outside to get ready to run where I hear the race director announce that the race will start in about 10 minutes. Wait? Didn’t you just say that 5 minutes ago? And, after another 5 minutes he makes the exact same announcement. Is his watch frozen? My guess is that he’s basing his approximate start time by the length of the lines at the Port-A-Potties. Finally, the lines are gone and race vehicle’s battery is jumped, so we’re ready to start 20 minutes late.




Somehow between the start and mile 2, 500 runners have merged onto a single track trail. It’s slow going at times but I’m in no hurry. My last long run was over a month ago so my primary goal is to finish and secondary to that, stay warm. At the first descent, I sense trouble when I see a line of people standing still on the trail. The snow flurries have put an icy glaze on every rock, stump and exposed patch of hard dirt. I wait as runners slowly make their way around the icy spots. Three young ladies, in particular, are extremely cautious. When I said I wasn’t in hurry I didn’t mean that I wanted to stand and wait while sorority sissies tip toe around every ice pellet. Eventually, we all get past the slick patches and arrive at the mile 4.5 aid station. I’m carrying my own energy sources, Snickers and Payday candy bars, so I don’t stay long and leave the three ice princesses and a few others behind. The runners have spread out between miles 5 to 9 so the slow downs at the slick spots weren’t as long. I snack as I run and stop at the aid stations only to grab a drink and add a cookie or gel to my pocket. The cold temps made gave the energy gels the consistency of fudge. I’ve never had to chew energy gels before. But it’s worth it. Running in a small groups I’m able to notice the sharp contrast of the dark brown leaf covered trail cutting through the brilliant white snow. No one should get lost today. Off to the side of the trail I see green ferns poking through the snow. It’s beautiful. The trail cuts through a small pine forest and it really feels like Christmas! Was that sleigh bells I just heard...or was it gunfire?




At the mile 12 aid station a runner ask about a ride to the finish as I put two peanut butter cookies in my coat pocket. After the aid station, the beauty of the last few miles is replace by a one mile run on a slick gravel road. The only traction is on the larger, uncomfortable gravel poking through the ice. I would walk but I know the road will soon turn upward at an angle know as Indian Hill so I might as well shuffle along until I’m forced to walk. The good news is that Indian Hill is half way. As I summit the snow has slowed but I definitely feel the wind on the top of the ridge and for the first time feel a pinch of cold. I’m glad that I wore my old New Balance trail shoes and an extra pair of socks. I’m also glad I wore my Marmot coat with wind stopping capabilities and even more glad that my brother Tom gave me the coat in the first place. I went with a red Marmot ski hat to not only match the coat but to let the hunters know I’m not a crippled dear and not to shoot.

Back on the trail I follow a young couple at a comfortable pace until we catch four slow men. At this point the trail runs along a hill side and slants downward to the right making the slick spots even more challenging but come on guys. It’s almost worst when you go slow. There are too many to pass and we’re not too far away from the 15.8 mile aid station so I adjust down to their speed and hope the any energy saved is available over the last 6 miles. At the aid station we are greeted by a sign that says, “All You Can Eat” but I just grab a banana. Before I leave I hear the slowest of the four runners ask about a ride to the finish.

The ascent at mile 16 starts with not just any icy spot but a 20 foot section of ice. One slip to the left and it’s into a creek. Grabbing ferns on the upper hill side with both hands, I crab walk sideways on all four over the icy stretch. Never done that before in a marathon. I walk up the rest of the hill and descend into another beautiful section of trail that I run through at my own pace taking in the scenery as I go. The snow picks back up and is wetter than before but I remain warm. Thanks again Marmot. At the mile 18 aid station I feast on Gatorade and pretzels for a minute and leave. Before I know it I’m at mile 20 and as long as I’m not walking up hill my legs feel fine. Wait! This hasn’t happened before. No wall. No bonk. No problem.

The snow is lightly falling at mile 22 as I “cruise” down the last major switch back decline and think this is as close as I’ve gotten to skiing in the Midwest. A mile later I’m at the northwest end of Yellowwood Lake, opposite from the finish line. From here it’s two miles along the west side of the lake then the home stretch mile on icy gravel roads. I hate that last mile even without the ice. At least it is the last mile. After five minutes short of six hours and about 10 minutes slower than last year I cross the finish feeling better than I ever have at the end of any marathon. I’ll take that.

Now for the swag. The sweatshirt in the race packet was ugly and the only other freebie was some Vicks cold medicine samples. But, I didn’t mind. I know from past experience that the real treat comes after the race. I line up for the traditional Tecumseh post-marathon meal of soup and a sandwich. Sounds ordinary but I’d run 26.2 miles for it. No offense to mom or Lesa but it is the best tasting soup I’ve ever had. I tell the serving lady the soup is the reason I run the marathon. She says, “That’s a lot of work for soup”. She might be right and it probably doesn’t taste as good without the running. Now that I think about it, running, like Bill and Ted’s favorite herb gives me the munchies so just about anything taste most excellent after running a marathon. But, really, this is good soup.




[According to my Nike Plus system, I ran 26.61 miles and burned 3522 calories. It also shows that I passed out at mile 16. Huh?]

Tecumseh Marathon, 2007 (#21)

When: December 1, 2007.
Who: Me and Lesa
Recall: So much fun. (see below)
Overall: One of my favorite marathons.
Rating: 5/5 carbs

Around mile 2

Mile 4

Mile 5

Mile 6 aid station

Indian Hill about half-way.

Mile 11
Mile 19
At the finish in front of Lake Yellowwood.

...time for some soup!

Watching the weather channel on a large, HDTV may be a waste but it's Saturday morning before the Tecumseh marathon all I wanted to know is just how cold it is going to be. 27 degrees and on it's way to a high in the mid to low 40s, plus a little windy. I debate with myself how many layers to wear and after 10 minutes I make the decision to take the layers with me in the car. I make a final decision just before I get on the bus.

I get on the first bus and sit on the second to last row. A clean shaved, well groomed guy sits behind me on the very back row. The runners on the back four rows quickly engage in runners conversation. It turns out Mr. Very Backrow is from Orem, UT and is in Bloomington helping with some type of theater production. Next to him is a Chicago man whose daughter is attending EIU. The lady next to me, who did an Ironman triathlon earlier in the year, asks me about the 5:00 cut off time. "Are they really strict about the mile 22 cut of time?" Being the veteran Tecumseh runner, I told her I thought so just because the sun is long gone by 5:00 and running this trail is tricky enough in daylight with many of the rocks and stumps covered by fallen leaves.

We get to the start area early so I sit on the bus to stay warm. With 20 minutes to race time, I leave the bus to warm up, etc. As I walk around I hear the sound for frozen water droplets hitting the leaves! I look up but see no threatening clouds and just hope that the weather forecast calling for later afternoon rain is correct. Eventually, it's start time but that doesn't seem to matter for this marathon. The first year I ran it we were told, "the race will start when the last person is out of the Port-a-potty." This year is no exception with a 10:14 start time. I stay in the back not knowing if I'm completely over the cold I caught just before Thanksgiving. Besides, I reminded myself, it's better to pass people rather than be passed in last half.

We gather for final instructions which I can't hear so without warning the race starts and we're off. The races starts on an asphalt road but quickly turns into a dirt road. There are people running three a breast making it hard to pass, not that I'm passing a lot of people. The deer hunters don't pay us much attention. By the first aid station at mile 2.5, things thin out a bit just as we merge on to the single track trail. At the first major descent, I end up walking part of the way only because the line of runners ahead of me are "running" downhill at a snails pace. So I walk and try to be patient. We cross the levy and up a short, steep hill to the next aid station. Oh, pretzels!

The next section of the course is less flat but I'm starting to get more into the race. Every once in a while it smells like snow. I love it! I want to say I'm having fun but that doesn't really describe it. Fun is skiing uncut powder and this is not like that. I can't describe it but I am having a blast! I do wish I have brought some gloves since it doesn't seem to be warming up much. A hat might have been nice, too. After a few miles, I know an aid station is coming up so I eat half of a Payday candy bar so I can wash it down at the mile 6 aid station. I have some guy snap a picture of me just to prove I was actually there. I finished the Payday but choke on a peanut. Eventually, a few hundred yards down the trail I stop coughing and find myself behind Mr. Green vest. While walking up one of the hills I see a photographer up ahead. I decided to slow down and let Mr. Green vest get a head of me so I can be running by the time I'm in view of the camera. At the top of the hill I pass a lady dressed in purple walking with a man. I hear her asked the man if he'll be okay? With his assurance, she continues on behind me and eventually passes me. She tells me she got a second wind as she passes but I know she was being nice and walking with the man who was struggling. Another half a mile and I'm mostly alone on the trail. Eventually, see a younger lady who runs like a deer up ahead. I refer to her as Doe a Deer and try to keep up with her. It's a gradual downhill and I'm feeling great as I catch up to Doe a Deer just as we arrive at the mile 9 aid station.

After the aid station we are all walking up an asphalt road for a bit. I'm finishing my pretzels and Gatorade while Mrs. Plum is calling someone on her cell phone. Back on single tract trail, and still feeling great. Again I'm mostly alone except for Mrs. Plum who is 50 yards ahead of me. But then she's gone. A few second later I come over a small rise and out of the corner of my eye I see her "squating" off to the side of the trail. Quickly, eyes forward look straight ahead and never see the Plum lady again. The course is again mostly downhill and I'm loving it. I'm not cold but still rue not bringing gloves and a hat. The good news is the the small creek we cross near mile 12 is dry.

Trail runs into a road where we find the next aid station. One of the workers tells us it's lunch. Let's see candy, cookies, pretzels, bananas, and Gatroade. Sounds like lunch to me! I grab a banana and some pretzels and walk as I eat. I know there's a killer hill ahead so I eat fast and start running knowing I'll be walking once I get to Indian Hill. The triathlete lady on the bus asked how long Indian Hill was, I told her about a quarter of a mile. After a quarter mile and not at the top I think about her cursing me when she's realize what I just did. At the top there's a long-ish down hill but it's starting to rain. A hat. If only I had a hat, I'd be find. I wonder what I'll do if it rains really hard. I envision me finishing in a cold shiver that last the entire 2 hour drive home and into the next day. Nothing to do but keep going to the mile 16 aid station. A guy with an iPod around his neck is on my heals as we wind our way around the trees. I stop to take a picture and let iPod man pass. At the aid station one man is escorted into a mini-van. He looks cold but fine. Another runner tells the van driver to wait for another runner who may be in need of a ride. The food is covered in plastic to protect it from the rain but the rain seems to be letting up. I leave the aid station just after iPod man.

After a short distance on a road, we cross another dry stream and end up walking the switch backs up the hillside. On the other side is a valley we run down into, along a stream bed, and then walk up to a road that takes us to the mile 18 and half aid station. A light rain returns but this aid station has hot chocolate that is neither hot nor chocolate. No matter, I'm not cold, except my hands a little, and there are no more large uphills! The course takes us back on the trail but the last two times we stayed on a road so this part of the trail is new to me. I get behind two guys going slowly downhill. Finally, they let me pass but not until the bottom. Next is a tall lanky man from Cleveland who is going just a bit slower than I'd like but just as I want to pass we are going uphill! So I walk behind him until we get to the top of the ridge and the mile 20 aid station. Looking at the map now I see the road is a more direct route to the mile 20 aid station so I'm convinced this year the course was longer than last year. At least that would help explain my much slower time. I don't stay long at the aid station since I know a nice long downhill is next and I don't want to have to follow anyone down it. Running downhill at this point feels liberating. My tired legs get to stretch out a little and gravity helps move me along. Another aid station but I'm feeling good and know there is hot soup waiting for me in 4 miles. I'm feeling good as I catch up with runners who aren't. They are all good about letting me pass except one lady who is trying to keep up with her boy friend. Finally, she lets me by. A mile down the trail I see a group of runners on the trail. They are helping a lady who had fallen and cut open her leg just below her knee. I give her the Paoli Peaks bandana I found a few miles back. iPod man was the first see her after she feel. We decided to run forward to the next aid station 2 miles away and inform them of the fallen runner. A little further down the trail I see another group of people along the trail. Oh, no. Not another injured runner? No. Just a group of men who line both sides of the trail and raise their shovels over our heads and cheer as we run under. By the time we get to the next aid station we are off the trail and have 1 mile left on gravel road with a little uphill. We tell them of the injured runner and move on. iPod man tells me it's his 26th birthday so he decided to run 26 miles. I can't believe my legs still feel good compared to previous marathons. Every once in a while I feel a cramp in my right upper calf but I just rub it and it goes away for a while.

The last mile is on gravel road but it's tolerable knowing that it is the last mile. Lesa is waiting, as usual, for me at the finish line. I'm a little cold so we go inside the shelter-like lodge for some hot soup waiting and a tasty sandwich. along with chips, cookies, and warm fire. What a great run. 5 hours 44 minutes and worth every minute!