Marathon XXXV - Springfield Marathon, Nov. 8, 2025 - New Berlin, IL

One important thing to know about the Springfield Marathon is that none of it takes place in Springfield.

Instead, it takes place in a little town about 10 miles outside of Springfield called New Berlin.

Actually, that is not even true.  It takes place in the farmland outside of the town of New Berlin, which is outside of the Illinois capital of Springfield.

I, for one, had no problem at all with any of that. Starting and ending at Danenberger Family Vineyards - with easy in/easy out parking and a comfortable 8 a.m. start time - the race was small, friendly, low-stress, and flat.  Really, really flat.  With long straightaway roads and few turns.  My kind of race.

Ready to run

I hung with the 1:50 half-marathon pacer for most of the first half.  He had a group of about six folks running with him.  I like to follow my own body's rhythms, so sometimes I got ahead of the group, but most of the time, they stayed in front of me by about 30 seconds to a minute.  It was a chilly morning (in the 30s) but the sun was coming up and there was not much wind.  It was a perfect day for a marathon, so I put on my headphones, listened to some Phish and enjoyed all the nothingness of the farmland and blue sky.

The marathon was a double loop, with a total of 13 turns on the course, averaging a turn per mile for each loop.  It was so nice and easy and relaxed that I felt no pressure to push the pace.  After finishing my first half with a 1:50:17, I let the pace group go and slowed down to ensure that I had enough energy to get me through the second loop.  

I thought a lot about the New Jersey Marathon, 17 years ago, and how the double loop messed with my brain - how the second loop seemed so much longer and was more difficult, even though it was the same darn course.  I was not going to let that happen here because I am no longer shooting for PRs, or really, any time goal at all other than to get in under four hours.  And even then, if I cannot do that, not a big deal.  I have nothing to prove anymore.

But I am still going to run the best race I can, so I kept a steady pace and, somehow, started passing up many of the folks that had been ahead of me in the pace group.  They had all spread out and I managed to pass at least four of them (including one poor gal who said she needed to pee, but there were no porta-potties).  Some of them were struggling pretty hard, yet I was feeling great.  

Not even the pain in my big toe where the nail was falling off could bring down my good time as I sang along with Phish, as by the 20th mile, there was no one around me.  And when I saw someone, way ahead of me in the 21st mile, I eventually passed him, too.  

Home stretch

By the time I got to the final turn, with two more miles still to go, the temperature had warmed to the 50s and I had worked up a sweat, but I still felt like I was cruising.  I picked up the pace a bit and worked my way toward the finish line.  I have never run a marathon in which I could see the finish line from miles away.  I just stared down the road at it, focused on it, and kept running to it.  

I did not have a stopwatch and there were no mile clocks, so I had no idea what my pace was.  I also did not care.  I knew I would be coming in under four hours, that was for sure.  And now, at 51 years old with 35 marathons under my belt, I could not have been happier to finish at 3:44:35.  

Feeling good after the race

A decade ago, that would have been a disappointment.  But it is a success now.  A triumph.  Because after all these years, I am having nothing but fun running marathons.  Eisenhower, Little Rock, Oklahoma City, Sandhills, and this one - all sub-four and all for the absolute joy of the sport.  I am happily, gleefully, in love with my post-PR life of marathon running.

Gloria and me with Abe Lincoln, actually in Springfield after the race

Marathon XXXIII - Little Rock Marathon - March 2, 2025

I'm gonna raw-dog it. 

After my rough ending of the Oklahoma City Marathon and subsequently turning 50 years old, I took some time off and then wondered how to approach this next one, my first race in Arkansas.

Finally, after all these years, I said it and I meant it - I would go into it with no expectations.  Period.  Sure, I would like for it to be under four hours, but it is time to stop expecting it.  For the first time, for real this time, I would put no pressure on myself.  And how would I ensure that I could hold myself to that?

By raw-doggin' it - no Garmin (and not even a stopwatch), no Gatorade, and no camera.  Just a small bottle of water for the early morning and a positive attitude.  Stripped down, bare bones.  It worked wonders.

It also helped that the theme of the race was Mardi Gras, so there was a festive atmosphere from the minute we set foot at the race expo and check-in at the Statehouse Convention Center the day before the race.  At the start line, early Sunday morning, it was a little chilly, but everyone seemed to be in good spirits.

With around 4,000 people at the start line (1,353 for the marathon and 2,640 for the half-marathon), it was a perfect mid-size city race - big enough to have spectators and other runners visible most of the time, but not overwhelming - no overcrowded corrals or difficulty getting to them. 

The first mile brought us around a few blocks near the Convention Center before sending us over the Broadway Street bridge into North Little Rock and past Diamond Bear Brewing, where Gloria and I had a couple of beers the night before. I used those first two miles to push through the pack a bit because I wanted to be sure I was around the 3:50 pacer. The mood was light amongst those runners, with people chit-chatting and generally having a good time.

Feeling pretty good, but not wanting to overdo it, I decided to push the pace just a little more because my legs actually felt uncomfortable holding back so much.  I promised myself, though, that if I made it to the 3:40 pacer, I would not pass - I would hang there or drop back.

After almost two miles in that neighborhood, we went back over the bridge to Little Rock proper and headed east on Sixth Street for the next four miles until we reached a turnaround at a roundabout near Bill and Hillary Clinton National Airport. At that point, it was the seventh mile, there was a clock showing 47:48 (7:58 pace), and I had caught up to the 3:40 pacer.  That was enough for me - stay with this guy for as long as possible, drop back to the 3:50 if necessary, and keep it calm and steady. At the 7.5-mile checkpoint, I clocked in at 1:00:35 (8:05 pace).

Making our way back west on Ninth Street through an industrial area and over I-30, I chatted with the pacer (a well-experienced runner for whom a 3:40 was a cakewalk) and another guy who had not run many races and had just moved to Arkansas from Colorado as we made our way into the MacArthur Park Historic District (and yes, I could not help but sing the song to myself).

A turn onto Main Street led us into the SoMa (South Main) neighborhood with its cute shops and...Purse Museum?  A couple more quick turns sent us over I-630 and then around the block and back over the highway into another residential neighborhood.  Straight down Center Street we ran right up to the gates of the governor's mansion. 

By that point, it was Mile 11 and I dropped back a bit from the 3:40 pacer.  He remained in my sight, though, so any time I saw him get to a corner or a landmark, I counted the seconds until I got there.  For the next few miles, I was about a minute behind him, and was more than happy to be at a potential 3:41 finish.

The half-marathon runners had split away and the field got a lot thinner, but there were still enough runners and spectators to help make it feel like it was an event. All the aid stations throughout the course were full of volunteers that cheered on the runners, continued the Mardi Gras party vibe, and provided a boost of energy and support.

The next couple of miles were flat and straight west on 16th, then around the block and back east on 14th, through another residential neighborhood, and by the time we turned north on Chester, it was the halfway point and I clocked in at 1:48:17 (8:16 pace) while always keeping the 3:40 pacer about a minute in front of me.

The organizers certainly had a their minds on good photo opportunities, because a turn off of Sixth Street to Woodlane Street sent us right in front of the Capitol Building (and sure enough, a photographer was there to capture it) before sending us westward on Third Street. 

Until that point, there had been some slight inclines, but as Third became Boone and then Markham, the incline got greater, and it definitely became a hill.  And that hill was nothing compared to what came next.

A right turn onto Kavanaugh sent us up, up, and up into the fancypants Hillcrest neighborhood.  Up we went through miles 15, 16 and 17. Oddly, I felt good about it.  My quadricep muscles were finally getting some attention and I was happy to use them as a welcome change.  On the downside, I was starting to feel alone - there were not many spectators (save for a few residents watching from their lawns or driveways), the pack had thinned out even more, and because the road was winding I had lost sight of the 3:40 pacer.

The road did straighten out, though, and I was able to determine once again that I was a little more than a minute behind the pacer, which was great news as I headed into the 17th mile.  Plus, the neighborhood has a little downtown (uptown?) area which had some spectators and sideline support. And finally, after about four solid miles of uphill, I had crested the hill of Hillcrest and turned onto Lookout Road for the descent.

The new change of muscle use had me smiling with joy.  I smiled with laughter a bit later when the young, handsome fellow in front of me passed by two middle-aged ladies and one pointed to the other and said, "She's single and looking!" as he passed.  Then she looked at me and said, "But only for good-looking guys."  Whatever.

I descended the winding hill on the beautiful tree-lined street that reminded me of Highland Avenue in Upper Montclair, New Jersey (a running route from forever ago), until it leveled off at Cantrell Road, a state route that led to Cedar Hill Road and then a left turn onto the five-mile out-and-back along Riverfront Drive.  It was mile 19 and time to dig deep for the extra gear.

Because the 3:40 pacer was now visible, the fast runners were coming back at me (closing in on their sub-three-hour finishes), and there were people on the sidelines again, I found that gear.  I straightened up and lengthened my turnover, and a spectator said, "Look at the stride on this guy!"  I had picked up the pace enough at the mile 20 checkpoint to register a 2:42:57 (8:09 pace). 

But that did not last long.  When I got to the checkpoint at the turnaround early in mile 22, I clocked in at 2:57:18 (8:27 pace) and the pacer was a solid two minutes ahead.  And I was definitely not worried about it.  I could take an hour to do the last five miles and still finish in less than four hours, which was never the point to begin with.  I had been having a great time and all I wanted to do was to finish strong and happy.

So, I made sure my pace was as comfortable as possible through the final few miles. I hit the mile 23 checkpoint at 3:12:20. We had been running on a path alongside Riverfront Drive, which then met up with Cantrell Road in mile 25 and...wait, is that a huge hill up ahead??

Holy moly, it sure was. OK, no worries.  It is mile 26 and I am on pace for a 3:43 finish.  Just shorten the stride and take it one step at a time.  

Once I got over the hill, it was the home stretch.  I could hear the music playing from a half-mile away.  There were spectators on the sidelines again as I veered onto LaHarpe Boulevard.  Someone gave me Mardi Gras beads and I put them on, thrilled to have been a participant in this party, proud to have accomplished this feat at 50 years old by finally letting go and not worrying so much.

I sang along with "Let the Music Play" as I approached the finish line, arms raised, triumphant. A 3:41:42 finish time never felt so damn good.  Less than a decade ago, that would have been a disappointment.  But it isn't 2016, I am not in my 40s anymore, my body has changed, and things hurt and break more easily.  I have slowed down, but I am still strong.

And in the spirit of Mardi Gras - from before the start to well-after the finish - I let the good times roll.

Results, photos, and video can be found here: https://results.raceroster.com/v2/en-US/results/a4v2cqt544cdya6x/detail/aq9h4zugtg6hq3uq

Marathon XXXII - Oklahoma City Memorial Marathon - April 28, 2024

I have run more than a few marathons with a camera or phone in hand, snapping photos and taking video, and I have always enjoyed viewing that footage later.  More often, though, I take in the sights, sounds, and smells, and try to burn them into my brain.  This has usually served me well, for even the ones that were most visually pleasing (Missoula and Park City come to mind) have an unforgettable place in my memory despite having no photos.

But if there was ever a time where I had wished I brought my camera, it was Sunday in Oklahoma City.  Not since Boston have I run a marathon in which every twist and turn, through every neighborhood both urban and suburban had sights to see, people cheering, parties happening on the sidelines, and a general spirit of the whole city coming out for race day.  And while the reason for the occasion is the sad remembrance of one of America's greatest modern tragedies (the domestic terrorism of the bombing of the Murrah federal building in 1995); the celebration of unity, survivorship, and city pride is anything but somber.

It is not a cheap race to enter ($186.43 when I registered on March 31), but every penny felt well spent from the minute I showed up at the Convention Center on Saturday to pick up my bib.  I can not overstate how well-organized and well-executed every bit of this race was - from the ease of pickup, to the interesting and useful booths at the expo, to the corralling of 14,470 people to the starting line.

At the race expo on April 27

Plus, this event had an incredibly comprehensive smartphone app that featured every bit of information any runner, spectator, or friends and family from afar could possibly need.  My parents even put the tracking map on their TV and watched my little dot progress across the course from the comfort of their home in New York.  For those who prefer good old-fashioned paper, a fold-out map with all the information was distributed to everyone, too.

The starting corrals

So, from the moment I started the race at the memorial where the Murrah building once stood, never once did I worry that I would miss a turn or that Gloria would not be able to get to me if something went wrong.  Off we went, through the lovely downtown that included the basketball arena and a minor league baseball park.  I am sad I did not notice passing by Flaming Lips Alley, though!

The first two-thirds of this race included no straightaways that lasted more than a mile.  That meant that with turn after turn after turn (something that would have normally frustrated me), there was something new to see and hear.  

The goal was to keep it comfortable but measured, and with the huge field of runners, there was not much wiggle room anyway.  I corralled myself with the 8:30 pace folks and that was where I would need to stay until things opened up, so an 8:40 first mile was pretty much on target.

We crossed I-235 at Mile 2 (8:23) and spent a mile running toward the Capitol Building from the south, turning away from it (Mile 3, 8:23), then back toward it from the east, underneath its plaza (Mile 4, 8:20) and back over I-235 (Mile 5, 8:10).

My better side, Mile 2

Now in a residential area, I started thinking about how it reminded me of the Boston suburbs as people cheered from their porches and driveways, with music playing (some playing radio or playlists on loudspeakers, some live DJing, some playing live instruments).  More turns through the neighborhood led us to Edgemere Park and I was reminded of Baton Rouge, where we looped around a park with beautiful houses and even more residents showing up to give runners some love (Mile 6, 8:27).

But nothing, except maybe New York City, compared to Gorilla Hill.  These folks on Shartel Avenue came out to play, bringing the good times onto the streets like it was an old-fashioned block party.  Music was blasting, the crowds lined the street as we ran the steady incline toward a giant inflatable gorilla at the apex.  Many folks were dressed in banana costumes.  Several were giving out food and drinks (and I'm talking about mimosas!).

But wow, it got tight on that narrow roadway (Mile 7, 8:41), so when the half-marathoners split off to head back south to the finish and we continued north it was literally a breath of fresh air - the stench of the body odor of thousands of runners packed so tightly was starting to get to me.  

It also got quiet as we crossed I-44 (Mile 8, 8:11).  So much so, that I remarked to a nearby runner that while we may be the better athletes, the half-marathoners are the better partiers.  He was not amused.

We made a few more turns (Mile 9, 8:30) before heading north (Mile 10, 8:32) and west (Mile 11, 8:40) into the Nichols Hills neighborhood, with big houses and bigger mansions, especially on Nichols Road (Mile 12, 8:34).

That's me way back there in the green shirt around Mile 12

The turn onto Britton Road into The Village section of town brought more love and support from the locals and from race volunteers (Mile 13, 8:24) as I hit the halfway point at around 1 hour and 51 minutes.  That left me an 18-minute cushion to finish under four hours.  

I had been hitting the mark beautifully as I continued through that neighborhood (Mile 14, 8:32), but as I got into the Lakehurst section (Mile 15, 8:41), and past Hefner Park (Mile 16, 8:45), my splits started getting slower and my legs started getting heavy.  I was working harder and getting less for it.  Time to readjust my goals and use that cushion.  New goal - nine minute miles.  Hey, I have nothing to prove anymore.

There was one neighborhood that had a Jurassic Park theme, with one guy dressed as John Hammond and others in dinosaur costumes, but I do not remember where because my brain started checking out along with my legs by then.

What I do remember was that even though there were 10 miles to go, I was crapping out and I told Gloria so where she met me somewhere around Mile 17 (8:53)...or was it Mile 18 (9:01)?  I also remember that for the first time the entire race, I was on one road (Grand Avenue) for more than two miles (Mile 19, 8:59; Mile 20, 9:18), only to get onto one other road (Classen Boulevard) for another three miles.  Worse, this whole area was about two or three miles of long, slow incline - murder on my already wrecked quadriceps.

Starting to crap out at Mile 18

The 21st mile (9:44) had a nice pick-me-up where a spin class was being held outside so all the stationary bike riders and other folks could cheer the runners.  For such a small group, they were loud and encouraging and amazing.  It did a lot (briefly) for my spirits, but not so much for my split times.  

As I passed by photographers and DJs and musicians, I put on the happy face and tried to look upbeat, but inside I was dying a slow death into miles 22 (10:20) and 23 (10:19).  But I was also doing a lot of math and had determined that I could do well over 11 minutes per mile in the final 5K and still make it under four hours.  It did not quite feel like a lock anymore, but it felt doable. 

The turn into the Mesta Park neighborhood was another genuine feel-good moment - going under a balloon arch and suddenly being in Super Mario World with many of the residents dressed as the game characters (Mile 24, 10:14) and another big block party.

Out of that section and with downtown in view, it was finally almost over.  I remember there a small hill that felt like a mountain and a downhill that felt like it was crushing my calves to bits, but I have no idea where exactly they were.  And with a 10:12 for Mile 25, I was happy to know that even a 15-minute mile would get me to a sub-4 finish. 

I made a final push to Mile 26 (9:55), heading into Scissortail Park for the final two-tenths of a mile, where a row of photos showed all the people that perished on April 19, 1995 - a solemn reminder of the reason we were running this race.

The sidelines of the final stretch had photos of those who died in the Oklahoma City bombing

Across the street in the green shirt, I am making my final push to the finish

My official finish time was 3:55:40.  I was hurting and tired, and had a lot to think about regarding my goals for future races.  But for the moment, I was satisfied with my result and could check off a 26th state in which I ran a sub-four-hour marathon.

There is nothing better than being greeted at the finish line by my wonderful wife

All photos by Gloria Galioto

Marathon XXXI - Sandhills Marathon, Brownlee, NE - June 3, 2023

For my first Nebraska marathon, I chose a tiny race in a tiny town, way up near the border of South Dakota.

How tiny was the race?  There were 22 runners.

How tiny is the town?  The sign read, "Welcome to Brownlee, population 15 or so".

How close to South Dakota?  Gloria had breakfast over the border while I was running.

There is almost nothing in Brownlee.  Nothing, that is, except the beautiful Sandhills for which the marathon was named.  The race course was on one road, out and back, past the hills and ranches of this town where the cows exponentially outnumber the people.

The packet pickup was in the neighboring (and larger) town of Valentine - some 45 miles north of Brownlee - at Young's Western Wear.  Could this event get any more country?  Wait, put a pin in that.

At packet pickup, the gentleman admitted they were not very good with their communication, but I already knew that.  Their website had not been updated in years, their Facebook page provided minimal information, and the two emails I received prior to the race did not mention much more about the course except a vague instruction of where to meet ("in Brownlee") and to watch out for snakes (yikes).  But we did eventually find out from the guy that the race would be entirely on Seneca Road (the first time that road was ever mentioned).

We stayed in a little town called Mullen at the Glidden Sandhills Motel - some 40 miles south of Brownlee and just far enough west that we ended up in the Mountain Time Zone.  I had to set my alarm for 3 a.m., which was really 4 Central Time, so we could leave at 5 CT to be at the race by 6 and start at 7.

We actually drove the length of Seneca Road to get to the start, but we could not actually see the course as it was pitch black - the kind of dark that you can only get with no street lights and no light pollution because there is not a damn thing in sight that is illuminated except your own headlights.  Freaky.

The race started with little fanfare and I stayed near a cluster of runners for the first mile (8:46) but even though that pace would have comfortably gotten me a sub-four-hour marathon, I felt the need to go faster.  Big surprise there.

So I pushed it a bit, but not too much, keeping it in the low-to-mid 8s, which felt great.  We were very fortunate to have an overcast day because if the sun was out, it would have been relentless, with no shade anywhere.  Instead, it was a great morning for running.  Plus, I was completely calm knowing I could not miss any turns, since there were none.

I happily enjoyed the scenery of the countryside - the miles of hills, and the cattle grazing and roaming - for the next few miles (7:46, 8:06, 8:16, 8:06, 8:21).  There was mostly silence except for the roving port-a-potty that drove past me and the volunteer on a bicycle checking in with me (as they would do for every single runner throughout the race).  I was in a solid third place with big gaps ahead of me and behind me.  There were no water stations, save for some coolers with water and Gatorade every few miles, and no spectators except for the aforementioned cows.

Despite the soothing nature of the serene atmosphere, silence is dangerous for me because it allows me to get inside my own head.  So I put my ear buds in and started Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart's Symphony 36 in C Major as I ran up some small hills, in a slight total ascent toward the halfway point, through the next three miles (8:36, 8:34, 8:08).  I followed that with Mozart's 29th Symphony into the halfway point (8:21, 8:19, 8:10, 8:13), reaching the turnaround.

With an elapsed time of around 1 hour and 48 minutes at the halfway point, I started thinking. And doing math.  Which is what always gets me in trouble.  The way I figured it, I only needed to keep going at an 8:24 pace to get a negative split, which had been the goal of all my runs for the past several months. 

Time for Richard Strauss's "Also Sprach Zarathustra" to get me through the next few miles.  I cautiously forged ahead, hitting 7:52 for Mile 14 and waving to the school bus full of half-marathoners on their way to their start at the turnaround point. After a few more miles (7:59, 8:04, 7:59, 7:57, 8:10)., not only was I heading into a negative split, I was creating a nice little cushion, too, for the inevitable slow-down at the end.

Next on my playlist was Dvorak's Symphony 8 in G, which I figured would get me through Mile 23, after which I had the full nine-part suite of Pink Floyd's "Shine on You Crazy Diamond" at the ready to take me to the finish. I felt so good at Mile 20 (8:05) that I texted Gloria, "Mile 20.  Hoping for a 3:35 finish."

Mile 21, 8:00.  Mile 22, 8:21.  Nailing it.

Mile 23, 8:38.  OK, that is why I have a cushion.

"Shine On" had begun and I hit Mile 24 with a 9:05.  Uh-oh.  Why am I suddenly falling apart?

Mile 25, 9:22.  My energy is sapped.  "Shine On" is more than half-over.  I am reduced to a slow trot.  My 3:35 and negative split got away from me.

Mile 26, 9:35.  Richard Wright's elegant keyboard outro to "Shine On" has long faded away and I am left shuffling toward the finish.  A runner passed me by.  Ugh, I hate getting passed so close to the finish. 

Gloria was near the finish line and, in addition to cheering me on, she let me know that another runner was gaining on me at the last second.  So I pushed just enough to cross the line ahead of him, but it turned out that both he and the previous person were half-marathoners.  My third place standing was still, somehow, intact with a 3:37:00.

Remember how I said the race could not get more country?  Well, instead of a medal, I was handed an engraved boot spur for my finish.  Now, that's country!

If only I had cowboy boots.

Oh, and no snakes.

The Sandhills

Start line - That's me in the blue shirt.

The home stretch

Me approaching the finish line

My boot spur trophy

Marathon XXX - Eisenhower Marathon - Abilene, KS - April 29, 2023

Training for a June marathon, I needed to do some long runs in April and May.  Since the catalyst for my recent move to Kansas was my experience at the Eisenhower Marathon 14 years ago, I could not resist going back to Abilene and using it as my long run.  But since it was a training run and not the actual race, I set one ground rule for myself - take it slow; nothing but 8+ minute miles.

The course was a bit different than the one from 2009, and I studied it as best as I could.  It was a lot of loops and out-and-backs.  First, it was a mile loop around the block with the plaza with the Eisenhower resting place, statue and library, at a 7:56 pace.

OK, too fast.  Broke the rule already.  Slow down.

But it was a chilly morning and I was wearing shorts and a lightweight long-sleeve shirt, so maybe I was chasing warmth.  South on Buckeye Avenue for two miles...8:00 and 7:52.  Slow.  Down.

A turn onto 2000 Avenue and then Hawk Road before turning into Brown Memorial Park, my biggest hope was that there would be enough volunteers and signs in the park to point the way through the twists and turns of the path.  Thankfully, there were plenty of both, so all I had to do was focus on the run, with a 7:53 fourth mile and, after a turnaround in the park, an 8:04 fifth mile (finally!).

Out of the park and back onto Hawk, heading south, with an 8:01 sixth mile, there was a turn onto 1900 Avenue and a turnaround at mile seven (7:58).  Approaching the turnarounds, I kept seeing the 3:30 pacer and I had to resist the urge to catch up and join him and the group of people around him.  

This is NOT that kind of race.  It's not even a race - it's a training run.

So I backed off a bit and hit an 8:03 for the eighth mile going back north up Hawk.  Then it was into the park again for another loop, and a 7:49 and 8:00 ninth and 10th mile. Out of the park and north again on Hawk and onto 2000 and Buckeye toward town, I started thinking about how almost all of my training runs have been negative splits.  

Maybe, if I slow the next two miles down even more, that will give me a cushion to make this marathon training run a negative split. So it's not really racing, right?

I felt great about the 8:10 and 8:14 splits in miles 11 and 12, and at the 13 mile mark, approaching the halfway point, I hit a 7:53.  Elapsed time at the half was around 105 minutes.  To negative split it, my end result would have to be under 3:30.

Alright, then.  It's go time.

I had to run the exact route again...and faster.  A 7:25 14th mile had me feeling like it was do-able but the sun was out now, and it was starting to get warm, so I needed to be a little more measured in these early miles of the second half.  I did so, with a 7:57 and 8:05 in the 15th and 16th miles.

For the 17th and 18th, I hit a 7:38 and a 7:44.  At the park turnaround, I noticed that the group of people around the 3:30 pacer, who was still ahead of me but with a smaller gap, had dropped off.  A 7:57 for mile 19 and an 8:12 for mile 20 had me rethinking if the 3:30 was still possible.  With an elapsed time of around two hours and 39 minutes, it was still feasible to do the final 10K in 51 minutes.  I had built up enough of a cushion that if I kept the pace in the low 8s, I would have it made.  At the turnaround on 1900 Avenue, I told the pacer, "I'm going to catch up to you!"

Into the park one last time after mile 21 (7:44) and passing a few people, I managed to do just that. We talked for a bit as I did an 8:00 22nd mile and learned that his name is Matt O'Reilly from Lawrence and that he had just the previous week run the new marathon in Jersey City, N.J.!  But talking took a little bit out of me and I fell behind him with an 8:25 for mile 23.  

The elapsed time was around three hours and three minutes - I needed to do the last 5K in less than 27 minutes.  I knew I only needed sub-9s to make it under 3:30 but I pushed to catch up to Matt again before turning onto Hawk Road, with an 8:10 24th mile.  He asked me if I wanted to get in under 3:30 and of course I said yes, and all he did for the next 17 minutes was give me encouragement.  

Matt rallied me, coached me, and kept my mind strong even as my body was telling me that this was not what I had come here to do.  Yet there I was, doing it anyway, with an 8:15 on Buckeye Avenue and the finish line within reach.  I dug deep...8:04 for mile 26. 

Turning the corner toward the train station and the Old Town area where the finish line was, Gloria was there cheering for me as Matt let me cross the line ahead of him for a 10th place overall finish and a final result of 3:28:53.  A 7:58 total pace, a negative split, a second-place age group win, my fastest marathon since 2018 (when I almost beat the personal record that I had set at this race in 2009).

So much for a training run.  This was the marathon I had been hoping to run for the past five years.  Whatever happens at Marathon XXXI in June will merely be the icing on the cake.

(Click here for a video of my finish!)

 

Marathon XXIX - Hamptons Marathon, Sept. 4, 2022

The pandemic changed my idea of what a marathon should be.  No longer do I feel the need to schedule my training and budget my money around the event of a public race; instead, I am happy to do the race around my schedule and budget.  If I want to do a marathon on Sept. 4 to coincide with the beginning of my Block Island vacation with my wife to celebrate our anniversary, then who cares if there is a nearby event on that day?  I will find an official USATF-certified course at certifiedroadraces.com that suits my needs accordingly.

I had it narrowed down to two - the Newport Marathon in Rhode Island (officially held in October) and the Hamptons Marathon (officially held in mid-September) on Long Island.  Both offered feasible routes to Block Island the next morning.  Though Newport was closer to the ferry, we thought it would be more fun to go to Long Island to also wrap a visit with my parents into the trip.  

Arriving at the start at Southampton Middle School for a 7:25 a.m. start to beat the coming heat, Gloria and Mom rode alongside me for the first half-mile or so to make sure I was on the right track with the course route (the official map had an error in the description) and then took a drive out to Montauk to see the lighthouse.

The course had no hills, no major traffic intersections, no potential obstacles and not a tremendous amount of turns.  Maybe five years ago, that would have triggered a desire to try to run fast and shoot for a personal record; but now, at a time when I am doing this for the sheer fun of it, there was no reason to do anything but take my time and only keep the modest goal of finishing under four hours. 

My intent from the start was to keep my splits as steady as possible - comfortable low 8s.  The first four miles consisted of a loop to the east of the school - Wickapogue Road to Downs Path to Flying Point Road and back to Wickapogue.  Good thing I checked out the course on Google Earth the week before, because some of the roads lacked street signs.  With an 8:23, 7:58, 7:49 and 8:08, I was off to a good start.  It was certainly interesting to look at all the residences in this ridiculously affluent town.  And these mansions, merely huge, were nothing compared to the enormity of the grandeur I was about to witness.

The next mile (8:02) was a loop to the south - Old Town Road to Gin Lane to Wyandanch Road - before heading west (Toylsome Lane) and south (S. Main Street, Gin Lane and Meadow Lane) for miles 6 (8:11) and 7 (8:10).  

Shifting gears in my headphones from Phish's 8/19/2012 show to the self-titled album by New Jersey power-pop band True Love, I headed north for another loop along a lot of streets with the word "neck" in their name (what is that all about?) - Coopers Neck Lane, Great Plains Road, First Neck Lane, Ox Pasture Road, Halsey Neck Lane, Hill Street, Captains Neck Lane and Meadowmere Lane - still keeping it super-steady with an 8:17, 8:21, 8:23 and 8:33.

Back on Meadow Lane, the southernmost road in town along the strip of beachfront mega-mansions, I could finally stuff my directions in my pocket for a while as I ran westward to the road's end.  Gawking at the ostentatious opulence of the estates along the road was fun while I listened to Phish's 8/19/1992 show.  I managed to continue to keep things steady on the four miles out (8:19, 8:15, 8:13, 8:19), but it was getting warmer and there was no cover from the relentless sun.  Thus, miles 16 through 19 were a bit slower (8:23, 8:28, 8:39, 8:28). 

The return trip bypassed that northern loop, but did steer me into the parking lot of Cooper's Beach, just far enough to see the beautiful beach and make me want to jump in the water.  But alas, there was still some work ahead.  Retracing my steps through the two other loops, it was getting harder to maintain that steady low-8 pace in miles 17 through 21 (8:28, 8:39, 8:28, 8:31, 8:29) but at least I was back in the neighborhood with the canopy of large trees shielding me from the sun, and I had the "Heaven & Earth" album by Yes to help me feel good.

In mile 22 (8:41), Gloria and Mom found me and rode alongside in the car for a bit to check in with me.  I was surprised to see them so soon and it was a nice pick-me-up.  But then in the doldrums of the 20s, alone, sweaty, and fading, with no more of the adventure of seeing new things (always the downside of an out-and-back course), and with one more time around that eastern loop after mile 23 (8:40), each successive mile would be slower than the last - 8:47 for mile 24 and 9:04 for mile 25. 

Gloria and Mom drove up again in mile 26 for one final check-in.  I talked to them for a while and they told me about their jaunt to Montauk.  I figured I may as well unload any excess weight for the end, so I gave them my Gatorade bottle, headphones and phone and told them I would meet them at the school for finish, so I could concentrate on getting through that last full mile (9:16).

Either the course was long, my Garmin was way off, or I slowed to a crawl for the final two-tenths of a mile because that home stretch clocked in at 2:24, and I finished with a 3:41:32, exactly in the range of most of the marathons I have run in the past few years.  So, no complaints here.  

Another marathon down, a new route conquered, a great weekend with my parents, and a few days on Block Island to unwind, rest, and recover.  

Morgantown Marathon - March 20, 2022

It was a chilly morning, with a possibility of rain in the forecast.  Reminded of the conditions at the Red Rock Canyon Marathon where I was severely under-dressed, I over-dressed a bit this time with my tights, a hooded shirt over my long-sleeve running shirt, and the cap over my beanie hat.  

Starting out at the WVU Coliseum and running the first mile along Patteson Avenue, with beautiful campus buildings on either side of the road, I hit the first mile after the curve onto Van Voorhis in the Evansdale section of town with an 8:23 and that felt about right. And then the turns began.

The Morgantown Marathon course

Image uploaded from my Garmin Connect account

A left onto Chestnut Ridge Road, a quick left on Windsor Avenue, a right onto Drummond, and then a right onto University...and that was just the second mile (8:11).

The next two miles (7:57, 7:53) were through the residential Suncrest neighborhood, with modest but lovely houses and startlingly narrow streets.  I took a left onto Laurel, continued on Elmhurst, went straight on Parkview, turned right on Rotary, left on Cambridge, left on Kenmore, right on Parkview, left on Mulberry, then left on University to leave that neighborhood and head into Star City.

Turning right on Broadway and right on Fairfield, I headed into another neighborhood, making a left on Junior, right on Aspen, and left on Collins Ferry Road for the fifth mile (8:06).  

A right onto Greendale, a left on Woodland, and a right on Eastern started me up an ascent of about 250 feet over the next five miles.  I still felt good, chugging along while listening to the Phish show from 30 years ago to the day, but now the work was going to start.  The forecasted rain had been little more than a drizzle thus far, and occasionally, it seemed like the sun might peek through, but alas, it stayed away.  And that was a good thing, because I was warming up, and the sun might have been too much with the way I was dressed.

Left on Aspen, right on Dogwood, left on Killarney, right on Van Voorhis - I had already flipped through several pages of my turn-by-turn notes by now and only just hit the sixth mile (8:10) - and I was back at the same intersection I was in the second mile, this time turning left to head east on Chestnut Ridge Road, away from the crazy zig-zag loop of the first 10K of the course and finally, blessedly, along one road (State Route 705) for the next couple of miles or so.

Those miles were uphill on a major roadway (8:20, 8:50), but at least I could put the notes away for a while and enjoy the Phish show.  And even then, a main road in West Virginia on a Sunday...not exactly the worst thing in the world when you are used to running in busy suburban New Jersey. 

A right turn onto U.S. Route 119 (Mileground Road) took me into mile 9 (8:36) and a right fork onto College Avenue (with no sign - good thing I did my research ahead of time!) took me down a long, steep downhill back to the college campus for my third and final sub-8 mile of the course (7:43). A left turn on University Avenue followed by a left on Willey and a right on High Street took me into the downtown.

A left onto Pleasant brought me out of the downtown, over Deckers Creek and into the South Park section of town.  A right on Cobun Avenue and a quick left onto Grand Street sent me up a hill into mile 11 (8:24) and I continued through this pleasant residential neighborhood with rights on Wilson Avenue and Allison Street.  A left turn onto the brick road of Wagner, which was closed off to non-local traffic, had me marveling at how the homes here were not large but absolutely beautiful.  

A left onto Dorsey Avenue past a cemetery led me to a sharp left turn with an extremely sharp (but short) uphill on Waitman Street and a right on Simpson Street to the mile 12 mark (8:44).  I took a right on Euclid Avenue, a left on Ash Street, a right on Wilson Avenue (making a weird sort-of out-and-back, sort-of loop in that mile), and a left on Kingwood Avenue to finally get a downhill again.  Of particular note while winding through this part of the neighborhood were the Biden/Harris, Black Lives Matter and Gay Pride flags at the houses - evidence of a blue-leaning college town in a mostly red state.  

The constant turning finally abated again after a left on Cobun, a quick right on S. Walnut Street and a right on Brockway Avenue, which featured lots of rental houses, presumably for students at the college.  After mile 13 (8:24), there was a quick, steep uphill, sharp left turn onto Rogers Avenue, then a left onto Valley Crossing and a sharp left turn onto the Decker's Creek Trail.

The trail was a pleasant change of scenery, off the road, and through some park land that featured murals, community gardens, a playground, a skate park, the 14th mile mark (8:23), and thankfully, a break from any hills. 

A left off the trail onto Decker's Creek Boulevard and a quick right put me back on a busy road, though. Staying on Earl Core Road through mile 15 (8:10), I felt like I was in a pretty good groove, having kept the pace mostly steady.

Taking a right on Eljadid Street, which curved into Carnegie Street, I crossed the creek and got on the trail again, making a right to head back in the direction from which I had come - but not for long.  After hitting the 16 mile mark (8:14, still in that groove), I made a left on Green Bag Road, where I could put my directions in my pocket again, as I would be on this road for almost three miles.  This road was mostly businesses, industrial-type areas, and some residential townhome communities.  There was not much traffic, but it was 45-mph traffic.

During those three miles, I started to get that late-teen-mileage fatigue.  I had finished the first set of that Phish show, so now I was listening to my buddy's band, the Kimballs, to keep my spirits up.  Miles 17 through 19 were definitely slower (8:28, 9:20 up a hill, and 8:31), but all I needed to do was try to maintain for the rest of the course.  With each mile, I kept calculating what my slowest pace could be for the remainder of the route to still finish in less than four hours.  With a 2:38:57 cumulative time thus far, I had 1:21:02 to do 7.2 miles, which meant I could do 11-minute miles and still get the sub-4.

A right turn on M-Tec Drive, a left on Mississippi Avenue, and a right on East Parkway, took me around White Park, which had sports fields, trails, a tennis court, and an indoor hockey rink where kids were congregating for a game.  A left around the park on Hite Street took me uphill and toward the neighborhood where I had been eight miles earlier, with a left on Dorsey near that cemetery.  But a left on Barrickman and a quick left on Madigan Avenue at the 20-mile mark (9:23) took me in a loop to a left on Mississippi and back to the park.

Gloria found me in this area and it was nice to see her pull up alongside me to chat for a while.  There was no traffic on these residential side roads, so she stayed next to me and talked me through the low 20s which are usually the toughest miles.  With a 9:12 for mile 21, it was a right on M-Tec and a right to continue along Green Bag, where I had to say goodbye to Gloria, knowing it would only be five more miles until I could see my wonderful wife again.

The 22nd mile was uphill again but I knew I had enough time to take it slowly (9:35), considering I really had no choice at this point but to do so anyway.  Things leveled off for a while as I turned right on busy Don Knotts Boulevard for the home stretch into Morgantown proper and one last sub-9 mile (8:32).  The fatigue was really setting in with the 24th mile (9:31), turning into ache, but not quite hitting the wall.  The road reminded me of parts of U.S. Highway 46 or State Route 10 in New Jersey, with car dealerships and small shopping plazas, as it eventually turned into University Avenue.

A left at a busy fork put me on Beechurst Avenue, where many of the buildings were WVU campus facilities, letting me know that I was on the home stretch.  At one point, I got worried because I was in the 25th mile (9:00) and I could not see the coliseum (finish line) yet.  But that was likely due to the fact that I had one more hill to climb - a 250-foot incline that felt like a freaking mountain by then.  I put Yes' "Fly From Here" suite in my headphones and got to work, chugging up the shoulder of this four-lane highway like the Little Engine That Increasingly Could Not.

It was a good thing that it only lasted that 26th mile (10:28) because there was no way I could have survived much more of that.  And I could not help but think that if it was a warm, sunny September day, it would have slammed me into the wall and forced me to walk it.

Finally, cresting the hill, the coliseum was in sight, and I turned into the parking lot for the final fraction of a mile as the music climaxed in my ears and Gloria cheered me into the finish, just as it started to rain.  My finish time was 3:45:17 and with my speedy days now long behind me, that is good enough for me.  

A road trip with my wife to West Virginia and a scenic sub-4 marathon - that makes for a good weekend in these middle-aged days.

I finished the Morgantown Marathon at the WVU coliseum tired but happy.

Photo by Gloria Galioto