Double Marathon Weekend video

Here's my video from the Ellerbe Marathon and One City Marathon.

One City Marathon - Newport News, VA - March 1, 2020

Even as far as mile 6 of the One City Marathon in Newport News, Virginia, I had my doubts.  Could I actually complete two sub-four-hour in two states in two days?  I had never run a race with such sore legs before, so at that point, I wondered if the answer was no.  But I was already in the thick of it and there was no turning back. We had literally come too far.

With Gloria behind the wheel on Saturday, we stopped at an Italian restaurant in Suffolk, VA, for a pasta dinner and arrived at our hotel in Newport News, VA, around 7 p.m.  That gave me just enough time to get my clothes ready and get to sleep by 9 p.m.

I woke up at 4 a.m., did some stretches and slathered Biofreeze on my tired legs.  Sure, I had held back as much as I could at the Ellerbe Marathon the day before, but 26.2 miles of running followed by six hours in a car still takes its toll.  Sitting on the bus to take us to the start line of this point-to-point race for an hour after that did not exactly help much, either.

Needless to say, when the race finally started at 7 a.m. Sunday, on the unseasonably cold morning (28 degrees), I was on stiff legs.  If the prior day was about holding back, this race would be about pushing through.

I started the 12/31/99 midnight-to-sunrise Phish set in my headphones at the beginning of "Slave to the Traffic Light".  Even though I had finished that song the previous day, my confidence was shaky and I suspected I would need almost the entire four hours to finish this race.  Sure enough, my first mile, through the park was 8:57.  Good enough.  Twenty-five more of those and my goal is reached.

A quick out-and-back in mile two (8:14) on a state highway led to some local roads for the next few miles (8:32, 8:22, 8:30) before moving on to U.S. Highway 60 for a few miles.  I chalked up those relatively swift miles to the excitement of the beginning of the race and the fact there were a few hundred more people at this race than the day before.

Beautiful tree-lined street in mile 5

Thankfully, the entirety of this marathon was flat, with only a few exceptions that amounted to nothing more than some small inclines and declines (definitely nothing I would call "hills", especially after Ellerbe) so my pace stayed rather consistent with 8:29 and 8:38 for miles six and seven.

With more than a quarter of the race finished, my confidence increased greatly.  Off of the highway and onto some local roads, I managed to keep things status quo (8:38, 8:51, 8:54, 8:35) without worrying as much.  So when I got to one of those inclines in mile 12, I took it gingerly with a 9:00 pace.  Knowing that I could do every mile at that pace for the rest of the race and still finish well under four hours boosted my confidence even more, especially as I hit mile 13 at 8:33 and the halfway point at 1:53:38.  I could spend two hours and six minutes on the second half and still reach my sub-four-hour goal.  Mile after mile of flat course meant that there was a real possibility of not needing nearly that much time, since my splits would likely be more consistent than on Ellerbe's hilly course (where my second half was a full two hours after a 1:51:xx first half).

The sign at the swim club in mile nine said, "Marathoners - just keep swim running"

Sideline support from the local residents in mile nine

I was finally comfortable enough to tell myself that it was not a matter of whether I would do it, but rather how long it would take. I was sore, no doubt about it - it was my 40th mile of the weekend.  But somehow, the building excitement of not just reaching, but smashing that goal got me through the next mile (8:30). After the 15th mile (8:44) it dawned on me that if I kept up the sub-nine miles, I would actually tie the marathon from a day ago.  And then after mile 16 (8:36), the prospect of actually beating it became all too real, especially as I was propelled by some seriously awesome Phish jams like "Drowned -> After Midnight" and a particularly killer "Piper".

If restraint was the order of the day in Ellerbe, consistency was the name of the game in Newport News, and somehow, I kept nailing it through miles 17 (8:44), 18 (8:44), and 19 (8:46) - through Christopher Newport University and into the Mariners' Museum and Park.  "Roses Are Free" started in my ears while I was in the park, as a beautiful view of the James River appeared before me.  Knowing this legendary half-hour jam would take me well into mile 22 and that nine-minute miles from that point on would still net me a better result than the day before, I hung back a bit, with 9:02, 9:01, and 9:04 as I ran through some suburban neighborhoods with people on their driveways cheering for the runners.

Four miles left, with 38 minutes to run them to beat the marathon I had finished less than 24 hours prior.  I had it in the bag, with an 8:47, 8:57 and 8:58 as I made my way into downtown Newport News, joined now by the half-marathon runners and 8K runners.  The excitement of finishing strong, with runners around me and spectators on the sidelines (for a change), the closing sequence of "2001 > Wading in the Velvet Sea > Meatstick" to end the Phish show that had been playing my ears for two days and...holy moly...beating yesterday's time by two minutes...led me to make my last mile an 8:18.  Mile 26 was not only my fastest of the race, but the fastest since mile four of Ellerbe!

Fun signs from locals in mile 23 - "Go random stranger, go!",  "May the course be with you", "Smile, remember you paid to do this" and "Run like zombies are chasing you."

Passing by Newport News Shipbuilding in mile 25

My final time was 3:48:36.  I was elated.  Overjoyed.  Beside myself.  And sore.  All worth it.  Two marathons in two states in two days, and they were not even my two slowest marathons ever, either.

Post-race party in the park in downtown Newport News

At 45 years old, with no more desire to attempt a personal record, I managed to set and reach a new, different goal.  That is what keeps this sport exciting - there are always new ways to approach it.  The only question...what next?

Me, triumphant, with beer

Ellerbe Marathon - Ellerbe, NC - Feb. 29, 2020

"Why are you texting me from a marathon???" wrote my friend, Ali, after I sent her a message while I was in the 25th mile of the Ellerbe Marathon. A good question, since texting is not exactly a typical activity during a marathon.

But my experience on the beautiful, sunny and perfectly chilly race morning in Ellerbe, North Carolina, was not typical. Even as my leg muscles were literally twitching because they were so ready to blast off and send me soaring through my 23rd marathon, I had to keep reminding myself, "The training was not for this race, it was for tomorrow." 

For 12 weeks, I did track intervals, hill sprints, tempo runs and, most importantly, lots and lots of miles - maxing out at 64 in my peak week, which included 19 on Saturday and 23 on Sunday.

On this race day, though, the hardest work would be restraint - holding back and saving it for the next day, when I planned on running the second of two sub-four-hour marathons in two states in two days.

So, with only 99 other marathon runners and 75 half-marathon runners lined up on Page Street in the tiny town of Ellerbe - along with a handful of spectators, like my wife (bless her heart for driving us there from New Jersey the day before) - I started the race as slowly as possible.

By the time I finished the first mile (8:04), I was already in the country, with lots of open space and not much more.

Because both races would be relatively small affairs (this one, especially), I had a plan to listen to music. In honor of the 20th anniversary of the massive midnight-to-sunrise set that Phish played on 12/31/1999, I thought it would be perfect to break up the seven-and-a-half hour set over the two days. Adding some padding in the front with the clock ticking and the "Meat Stick" gag, and at the end with "Here Comes the Sun", it was possible to time it perfectly.

"Meatstick" kicked in after mile two (8:18) and "Auld Lang Syne" hit at mile three (7:51) as some uphill work began during the big "Down With Disease" jam.

The course was hilly, as expected, but certainly no more so than what I had been training on. In fact, I had to stop myself from giving in to my instinct of pushing up the hills. Taking small steps and keeping the energy expense to a minimum, I still ended up with a sub-8 in mile four (7:58). 

Just me, my shadow and two other runners in sight - 
and this was only the fourth mile.

I controlled myself with an (8:27) for mile five and the slow incline through mile six (8:45). The uphill after a turn onto a road that led to a turnaround just after mile seven (8:48) helped me back off a bit. Rolling hills through miles eight, nine, and ten (8:19, 8:32, 8:33) led to the flat miles (8:26, 8:26, 8:33) into town and the finish line, where I would turn and do it all again.

The turnaround point in mile eight was in front of that church that seems to be in the middle of nowhere. 

Downhill after the turnaround in mile eight

A long, quiet road ahead into mile nine

Mile 10 with no one in sight

More cows than runners in sight in mile 10



Again, restraint was the name of the game - go only fast enough to get in under four hours. That meant a 9:00 pace, but there I was at the halfway mark about eight minutes under two hours, an 8:30 pace. 

For the first time in a marathon, I was happy that the upcoming hills and inevitable fatigue would slow me down in the second half. That, plus taking pictures; and texting my wife, my mom, and my friends. Anything to force me to slow down!


So, around the loop I went again, with even fewer other runners in sight. Sometimes none.

My splits were thankfully getting slower - 8:31, 8:45 and 8:58 in miles 14, 15, and 16. The 8:37 for mile 17 would be the fastest until the end as the rolling hills continued with 8:45, 9:13, 9:27, 8:45, 9:35 (mile 22 was the big one, with the road pitched at an ankle-busting angle, to boot) and 9:11 while the 20-minute "Sand -> Quadrophonic Toppling" jam played in my ears (and was exactly what I needed).








Coming up on mile 22

Mile 25

Finally heading back into town for the last three miles (9:06, 8:55, 9:11), I felt good about having slowed my pace enough to make the back half of the race an even two hours. I crossed the finish line with a 3:50:27, just as "Slave to the Traffic Light" was peaking in my ears - the halfway point in the all-night set.



Texting my Phish fan friend, Ali, during Mile 25




Gloria commented that I had never walked so well immediately after a race, and she was correct. That must have meant that I saved enough for the next day. Mission accomplished, then.

I collected my medal, had a bite to eat, did some stretches, and went back to the Ellerbe Springs Inn to shower. An hour after finishing the race, I was in the car (with Gloria behind the wheel again) and on the way to Newport News, Virginia, for the marathon that was to begin in a mere 18 hours.

Marathons XXII and XXIII

Money is tight these days, so how do I continue my quest to run a marathon in every state?

Do two in one weekend.  That saves a lot on travel expenses.

I have heard of the Marathon Maniacs doing multiple races in bordering states in a weekend, but those folks are doing leisurely five-hour-plus races.  I want to do each of my marathons in less than four hours while I am still able.  So tackling two in one weekend is a big undertaking.

But how do I train for it?

I decided to follow Hal Higdon's Advanced I Marathon training program, but with one alteration.  Instead of my Saturday runs amounting to half the distance of my Sunday long runs, the tactic has been to gradually (but swiftly) increase them to being more than three-quarters, except on the "step back" weeks, during which both the Saturday and Sunday runs are 13 miles. 

As the mileage grows this gets a lot more difficult, but I figure it will be only way to condition my body for this feat.  Running 20 miles is tough enough on an average training day.  Doing 20 miles the day after running 17 miles requires a whole other strategy.

For one, it is absolutely imperative on Saturdays to take my runs much more slowly than normal.  Instead of a mid-7s pace, Saturdays would be done at low 8s.  That allows me to have the energy to muster up some low- to mid-8s on Sunday.  Because the goal is to do sub-four-hour races, it is imperative that I do not get too close to a 9:00 pace.  That is the ceiling for the race days and I want it to be as comfortable as possible.  If I can crank out low- to mid-8s in training, then high-8s should be a cake walk at the races.

But then, maybe not.  Who knows?  This is all foreign territory and I am making it up as I go.  

One thing is for sure, though.  I am registered for two races in two states in two days and I am determined to make it happen.  If I succeed in running each of them in less than four hours, I will be only one future similar weekend from the halfway point to the 50<4 club.

Chocoholic Frolic Dallas 10K - Dec. 8, 2019

"On your left!"

I honestly lost count of how many times I had to shout that during the second loop of this otherwise hassle-free 10K race, because by the time I was in the fifth mile, the walkers were on their second mile and the relatively narrow walkway did not allow for more than two or three across (and walkers seem to love to walk in great horizontal numbers).

But let us start at the start.

My wife, Gloria, and I had planned an early-December trip to Grand Prairie, Texas, to visit her dad and brother and I figured it would be fun to run a race there.  I found out about the Dallas Chocoholic Frolic 5K and 10K (which was actually in Grand Prairie) and decided that after doing five 5Ks in a row, it was time for my first 10K in two years.  

With its tremendous amount of speed work, Hal Higdon's difficult Advanced 10K program conditioned my body to be the best it could be on race day, which was a cool, breezy morning at the horse-racing venue, Lone Star Park, in Grand Prairie.  I looked around before the start of the race and saw some folks whom I was certain would be in the front of the pack - a couple of track kids, a long-legged lean woman, and a few other competitive-looking folks. So when the race started, I was surprised to find myself in front of the entire field.  

That is me in the blue-green shirt and black shorts, trying to open up my stride and push to the front at the start of the race when I realized the competition would be pretty soft. (Photo by Gloria Galioto)

Along the main driveway, up a ramp, and around a corner onto a pedestrian walkway on the outskirts of the park, I remained in first place through the first mile (6:06), following the lead bicycle and waiting for someone to eventually pass me.  

That someone never came.  I worked my way along the course to the sidewalk of the main road, on a narrow pedestrian walkway over a small bridge and hit mile two (6:26) before turning into the parking lot, heading back to the main building by the race track.  Still, no one was coming up from behind me.  I heard no footfalls or heavy breathing.  Nothing.  And I was about to finish the first loop.  I was ahead of everybody, including the 5K racers.

Coming into the finish area after mile three (6:22), I saw Gloria, who confirmed that there was no one even close to me, as well as her dad and brother, cheering me on.  

Damn, I essentially won the 5K and I was about to run the loop again.

The next mile (6:16) was in complete solitude.  No one behind me, no one in front of me. 

But then I hit the crowd of walkers in their second mile.  They were walking three or four across, as they tend to do, and that is when the constant shouting of "on your left" began.  It was tough enough to breathe while trying to keep up my race pace; having to yell at people to move did not help.  Surely, these folks knew that some people were doing the loop twice, but I think I startled them with how quickly I had come around.  And so...

"On your left!" - and then the person moved left and I almost crashed into him.

"On your left!" - and then people pushing strollers next to each other awkwardly tried to get the strollers out my path, probably in fear of me plowing them right over.

"On your left!" - and no one moved.  "GET OUT OF THE WAY!"

Thus it went, over and over, for my fifth mile (6:38) until finally getting to the open parking lot, where some joggers were making their way through the last mile of the 5K.  I blew past them, too, hitting mile six (6:20) and pushing with all my might through the last two-tenths of a mile for the finish, where, once again, the family was there to cheer me into the finish line.  

Rallying to the finish, with no one behind me, to win the 10K. (Photo by Gloria Galioto)

The course may have ended up a little short - around 6.14 miles according to my GPS watch, which usually calculates most courses to be a bit long, so I knew something had to be up - and I finished with 38:54 on the clock, but I think it should probably be more like 39:34, still very much in line with my past few 10Ks.  I was hoping to squeak in under 41 minutes, and I handily came in under 40.

Indeed, I won the whole darn thing, with the next three folks neck-and-neck among each other, but almost a full two minutes behind me.  So, you know, this was not exactly the most competitive race.  Still, I find it funny that this is the third 10K that I have won overall.  I never felt like 10K was my best distance, but I must be doing something right.  In addition to lots of chocolatey goodies and a sweet Hershey Kiss-shaped medal, I received a $50 gift card to the local running store, to which we immediately went as soon as it opened.  I bought some light-up and reflective gear to bring home for my upcoming early morning in-the-dark training runs.

I went to Grand Prairie for a family visit and won a race.  Now, that is a vacation.  

However, while "this has all been wonderful, now I'm on my way" to start marathon training again.  

Spectating the NYC Marathon

I have run 22 marathons over the past 12 years, but I have never attended one specifically to be a spectator.  So when my friends Meredith and John, with whom I have attended both Phish shows and races, said they were running the New York City Marathon, my wife, Gloria, and I decided to make some Phish-related signs for them and head into the big city to cheer them on.

First and foremost, we needed a plan.  I printed out the marathon course map, the NYC subway map, and dug out my old NYC street map and started plotting.

Knowing that they were planning on running 10-minute miles and that their wave was starting at around 10:40, I determined we could see them in five different spots, in three boroughs.  Once we got to Manhattan, we took the R train to 36th Street in Brooklyn to catch them at about the fifth mile.

Finding them was tougher than we had thought because this early in the race, the pack was pretty thick, and taking up both sides of the two-way avenue.  At a tiny break in the throng, I managed to run into the center median for a better view.  Somehow, I managed to see them, and they saw me with my "Go John and Meredith go!" sign.  

But even if we had not seen them, we quickly realized that cheering for random strangers is incredibly fun, especially when people had their names on their bibs or their clothing.  And as a marathon runner myself, I know how much that means, and what a mental boost it can provide.

After seeing our friends, though, it was right back down to the subway to catch the R train north to the eighth mile, near the Barclays Center.  We had less than a half hour to get there and find a good spot, but we made it and, once again, saw them and shouted for them as loudly as we good, holding up our "Blaze on, John and Meredith!" sign.

Our next stop was Court Square in Queens, near the entrance to the Queensboro Bridge in the 15th mile.  We had an hour to get there, but we had to walk a bit and get to the G train, and we both had to make a pit stop to hit the bathroom (a reality that we did not think to factor into our plan).  So once we got to the general area, we found an open bar/restaurant, ordered a couple of beers, did our business and went out to join the crowd.  We held up our sign ("Run like an antelope, John and Meredith!") but we did not see them.  At some point, we figured we had missed them (though Meredith later confirmed they saw us!), so we hustled back to the subway for stop number four.

We took an R train from Queens Plaza and then, in Manhattan, transferred to a 6 train heading north to East Harlem to catch them in the 19th mile on First Avenue, just before they crossed the Willis Avenue bridge to the Bronx.  With less than 40 minutes to do all that, we cut it close, but managed to get to the bridge mere minutes before they did.  By now, the pack had thinned considerably so it was much easier to spot them and to talk to them.  They were hoofing along, but slowing down a bit. 

That was probably bad for them but good for us, giving us extra time to walk across town to Fifth Avenue to catch them in the 23rd mile after they came back into Manhattan.  We had one more sign for them, this time with a more obscure Phish lyric, "Run so fast, your feet don't touch the ground!" and one last time, we managed to see them and wish them well.  We could see signs of fatigue, but they looked good and there was no doubt they were going to finish this thing.

Alas, we were unable to get through Central Park to see it, what with the myriad spectators crowding the area around Columbus Circle, where the runners enter Central Park.  We tried, but there was no getting through - at least not in the time we had left to do so.

So we sent them text messages to congratulate them and went on our merry way back to New Jersey.  In all, we spent about four hours riding subways, cheering on our friends and lots of strangers, and enjoyed all the good vibes that the New York City Marathon brings without having to run 26.2 miles.

Purple Stride 5K - Nov. 10, 2019

So, yes, after four relatively disappointing 5Ks, I immediately started training for a December 10K using Hal Higdon's Advanced 10K training program.

And, wow, it is a killer program.  With Tuesday tempo runs (up to 60 minutes), Wednesday 400-meter track sprints (up to 12), Saturday runs partially at race pace, and Sunday runs in which the last 25 percent of the miles are done near race pace, we are essentially talking about four days of speed training per week.  That leaves Monday and Thursday for easy runs and an optional (!) rest day on Friday.

As per usual with Higdon's programs, races are included midway through training.  This past Sunday, being halfway through the eight-week cycle, it was time for yet another 5K.  It just so happened that this fell on the day of the annual Purple Stride 5K in Parsippany, a benefit for the Pancreatic Cancer Action Network.  In support of our friend, whose mom died from the disease, Gloria and I and our friends jogged it in 2016 and walked it in 2017.  Last year, I raced it competitively while training for the Mississippi Gulf Coast Marathon, taking third place with a time of 18:11, my last sub-19 5K.

At the start line on Sunday, some guy said to his kid, referring to me, "Just stay behind this guy and draft him if you can.  He looks fast."

That made me feel good, but I wondered if I would live up to his expectations after my past four outings.  At the sound of the horn, I blasted off, legs in full extension, pumping as hard as I could to get off to a good start, and to warm the hell up on this 30-something degree day while wearing only shorts and a single long-sleeve polyester running shirt.  For the first mile in this flat course through what is essentially a giant park of office buildings, a young runner in a cape took the lead and I stayed elbow to elbow with Justin Tufano (literally - he actually kept bumping elbows with me - even as we approached the left-hand turnaround, he kept drifting and pushing me to the right).

I hit the first mile 5:52 and it felt great.  I did not even feel like I was pushing hard enough to get a split like that.  Both Mr. Tufano and I pushed ahead of the caped runner and pressed on into mile 2.  I pulled away from Tufano and briefly held the lead until I heard footsteps coming up behind.  I was surprised to see the person passing me was not Tufano but someone else - an 18-year-old kid named Sam Fowler - and he was doing it effortlessly.  There was no catching up to him, and I was already slowing down, but I was OK with my 6:09 second mile.

Turning around again (those turnarounds are such momentum killers!), I gave it everything I had, with Tufano right behind me.  I only managed to stay in front of him by three seconds, but it was enough as I threw my body forward into the third mile with a 6:04 and a finish time of 18:50.

Unbelievably, I had managed to get my first sub-19 in a year, at the same race as my last one.  It was a pleasant surprise, and just what I needed to fend off the sometimes depressing sight of my drastically lower 5Ks lately.  This was a nice boost.  I may not be close to what I was a year or two ago, but at this point, I will take any sub-19 I can get.

Last year's event was fraught with problems, notably the course being too short.  In addition, the timing company, Best Race, screwed me over with the results, putting me at fourth place, rather than at my rightful third (they never fixed it on their website).  This time, though the course was re-measured to accuracy, Best Race once again managed to screw me over by spelling my name wrong - check out the results and you see that Daniel Falioto took second place at the 2019 Purple Stride 5K in Parsippany. [eye roll] 

But hey, it was a good cause with good friends and my best 5K of the year.