Updated: 07/15/2008 12:42 PM KSTP.com | Print Story

June 18, 2007: Mile-by-mile account of Grandma's Marathon

MARATHON MADNESS

Lets face it. Anyone who runs a marathon isn’t quite thinking straight. So I’m hesitant to admit that this past Saturday I ran my 20th marathon. It was the fifth time I’ve taken on Grandma’s Marathon in Duluth. It’s always hard to get ready for Grandma’s because it’s so early in the outdoor running season. Didn’t winter just end last Thursday? Anyway, here’s a cursory mile-by-mile account of what I can recall from my carbohydrate-induced stupor during the 31st running of Grandma’s Marathon:

For the second year in a row we’re running under "Black Flag" conditions. This means we should all seek shelter in our air-conditioned hotel rooms because the racecourse now simulates what it’s like to be ten feet from the sun. Okay, that’s an exaggeration. But 66 degrees, high humidity and relentless sunshine might be great for your morning coffee on the front porch, but it’s bad news for those of us who paid $85 to run this race. That’s right. There, I said it. WE’RE PAYING TO RUN THIS RACE! 

Apparently a starting gun just went off because runners are starting to cross the starting line. I assume there was a starting gun, but I didn’t hear it because the "Chariots of Fire" theme song is now blaring over the loudspeakers. They got that "fire" thing right. Anyway, it takes nearly three minutes before I actually get to the starting line…but I’m finally off and running. I run the first mile in about eight minutes.

At this point I’m trying to figure out how I feel physically and mentally. My legs and feet feel good. Knees appear to be bending as intended. My lower back is fine. I’ve had two good nights of sleep in a row, so mentally I feel okay. Well, as "mentally okay" as someone who paid $85 to run for 26.2 miles can possibly be. The second mile goes by in about 8 minutes, 30 seconds. I’m about one minute, 40 seconds under the pace I need to finish in four hours, my overly optimistic goal.

The first water station is located at the three-mile mark. Through the mass of humanity in front of me I can see what appears to be the yellow balloon marking the three-mile mark.  I swear I can also see water splashing ahead. It turns out it’s actually sweat from the guy in front of me. I’ll spare you the details. I can’t believe how thirsty I am already. It’s important to take water at every water stop, especially on a hot, humid day like this. I cross the three mile mark in about 26 minutes, about 90 seconds under my goal.

By mile four, I’m completely soaked with sweat, most of it my own. The run so far down Scenic Highway 61 is going okay, but I’m concerned about the toll the sun and heat are taking on me. My mind tends to wander during this portion of a marathon because I’m trying to keep my mind off the fact I’m running the equivalent of my daily drive from Chanhassen to St. Paul. What I do suddenly focus on is that I’ve just realized I forgot to do three key things before the race: Brush my teeth, apply deodorant and take Advil. This is the first time I’ve ever forgotten to do any of those things before a marathon, let alone all three! Now I know why I’ve got so much room to run out here…my fellow runners are giving me plenty of personal space. Through 9 miles I’m now at one hour and 21 minutes, still about 90 seconds under my desired pace.

There are three songs you can count on hearing at any marathon in the country: YMCA by the Village People, the theme from "Rocky" and "Born to Run" by Bruce Springsteen. I hit the trifecta between miles 10 and 13 when I hear all three. These tunes do tend to put a bit of a bounce in your step (although not enough to actually do the YMCA dance, which is something that should be avoided at all costs anyway). Believe it or not, it’s not until mile 10 that we actually start getting a good look at Lake Superior off to our left. You also see the Duluth Lift Bridge off in the distance near Canal Park where the finish line is located. Ordinarily, this would be very exciting. But that bridge looks so far away it might as well be on the other side of the moon. I hit the half-marathon point in just under one hour, 58 minutes. Keep in mind; this is the time being recorded with a computer chip in my shoe (all runners are issued the chips before the race). This way they keep track of your actual running time and eliminate the several minute delays many runners face getting to the starting line.

My mind is starting to play tricks with me. One minute I’m so hot I swear I can see Elvis. The next thing I know I actually do see Elvis. This is another marathon tradition. Someone always seems to feel the need to dress up like Elvis Presley and stand along the racecourse playing Elvis tunes. I’m not going to try to explain it. I’ve got my own set of issues--I'm paying $85 to run over hot coals for 26.2 miles!  I’ve still got ten miles to go and my pace is definitely slowing down. At the 16-mile mark, for the first time, I’m no longer keeping pace for a four-hour marathon. I’m now at two hours, 27 minutes, about 30 seconds over my goal pace.

A local radio station is broadcasting along the course and I’m hearing an interview with the winner of the marathon. That’s right, I’m still one county over from the finish line and the winner of the marathon is on the radio being interviewed! It’s now official. I can’t win! Okay, that was actually official before I pulled on my socks this morning…but now it’s like officially official. He’s done, probably sipping champagne-flavored Gatorade, standing in a bucket of ice water getting a massage from the Reebok Performance Team while being interviewed on the radio. I’m still nearly 10 miles away! The Gatorade will be gone, the ice melted and the Reebok girls will be half way back to Minneapolis by the time I finish. I finally get to the 20-mile mark in three hours and 14 minutes. So lets get this straight…the guy who ran for only 2 hours and 15 minutes gets a radio interview and television coverage. I’ve already run an hour longer than that. Now that’s an accomplishment. Will it get media coverage? Only what you’re reading right now.

The optimism of the first 10K has been replaced by the realism of the last 10K. Now that I can’t win, you look for little victories along the way. I find one at mile 22. That’s where I pass Sven Sundgaard, a weather guy for one of our competitors. He’s walking and sipping a Diet Coke. This is a victory because he’s 20-years younger and 40 pounds lighter than me. It’s also the first time I’ve seen someone drinking a Coke during a marathon. So I can cross that off my list of things I thought I’d never see. Don’t get me wrong; there are lots of temptations over the last six miles. Well-meaning Duluthians (Duluthites?), alright, people of Duluth, are handing out Jolly Ranchers, orange slices, Hershey’s Kisses, homemade chocolate chip cookies, beer, Doritos, last night's leftovers…you name it. I’m not making this up. Anything to give us a boost of energy…a sugar buzz…some beer carbs. At first it seems absurd. But by mile 24 you’re willing to hold up a candy store to get your hands on some chocolate. I’ve really got to find a new hobby.

It's roughly 84 degrees when I finally drag myself across the finish line in 4 hours, 26 minutes and 56 seconds. That’s about 27 minutes off my goal, but still about four minutes faster than the average finishing time.  I quickly learn that there is no prize for finishing 3,486th. No radio interview. No Reebok Performance Team. No champagne-flavored Gatorade. I do however get a t-shirt, an impressive medal and a ticket for one free beer out in the parking lot. A cold beer has never tasted so good. The next Grandma’s Marathon is June 21, 2008. I can’t wait!

THE DAY AFTER:  The next day we learn that more than 500 people needed heat-related treatment in the medical tent and more than 20 were sent to the hospital. More than 300 people who started the race did not finish.  As we're driving home on Sunday, it's 52 degrees, overcast skies with a slight drizzle.  Perfect running conditions...one day late.