This run was for Ty Taylor (obviously). I'm proud to have had the chance to dedicate the last four months to the memory of a great friend and important role model. Over the course of my training, it was immense fun to remember Ty and talk about him to friends and family. I was able to raise $1750 toward establishing an enduring campship in his name. With the money that was raised when Ty passed away, there's almost $2500 in the account. We still have quite a way to go before there will be enough money in the trust to earn enough interest to send a kid to YMCA Camp Miller every year in Ty's name, but I hope to continue to help build the fund. Of course, you can still donate here! ;)
Finally, this run is ultimately dedicated to my wife, Kate. Without her support and encouragement I would have never been able to achieve this lifelong goal. I know my running took me out of the house a lot and that the long weekend runs made life with an infant and a dog challenging, but you wanted to help me and I appreciate it. To say thank you underplays how important your support has been, but thank you nonetheless. (Readers: if you think you were bombarded with pleas, running stories, extended run statistics - you should spend one day in Kate's shoes). Thanks Mug.
THE PRE-RACE
No run Thursday, no run Friday. I picked up my bib Friday night at the expo and bought a new water-proof running belt in preparation for forecasted thunderstorms. I carbo-loaded with a pasta dinner, drank several glasses of water and headed back to the lake to get my gear together for the race. (I only had to stop once on the way home to pee!)
When I got back to the house, I was faced with the decision of what to wear. The forecast was for rain, and I was sad. I did not want to run a marathon in the rain. I would if I had to, but it was not my preference. As a result, I ended up packing a choice of a short-sleeve shirt, a long-sleeve and a running hat. I figured I'd choose my outfit at the starting line. I also brought an extra set of regular headphones in the case of rain because my flashy new Bluetooth headphones are NOT waterproof. I checked my bag over and over and kept adding things; running belt, shoes, socks, shorts, my energy blocks, a towel, a banana, Vaseline, pants, a long-sleeve to wear after the race, a winter hat, socks, car keys, driver's license, money, credit card...in the end I forgot a pair of undies to wear after the race. Shhhh, it's our secret. Whoever says, "You only need shoes to run" is nuts. Don't believe them. I made a playlist, set my alarm for 4:45am and made in bed by a reasonable 10:30.
RACE DAY
I slept much better than I ever have before a big race and was pleasantly awoken at 4:33 by my son. I guess he wanted to wish me luck before I left. He went back to sleep and I decided to get an early (12 minutes early) jump on my day. I drank a small cup of cold coffee from the day before to proactively discourage the caffeine-withdrawl headache that I've suffered on longer runs.
I was in the car and on my way to Duluth before 5 o'clock. It was cold, below 50 degrees when I arrived to the shuttlebus. It was foggy, but not raining. I boarded the bus and started what my waiter later in the day would call the "long drive" to Two Harbors. Long drive, you should try the run! The energy on the bus was great, and I was looking forward to running. We arrived to Two Harbors about an hour before the race started, so there was plenty of waiting time in the morning mist. I was finally overcome by the urge to use the littlest bit of my phone's battery, so I posted a quick update, took a few snaps and started my playlist.
I decided to shuffle the list to keep it interesting and the first song immediately made me smile. It was "I Need a Miracle" by the Grateful Dead. Fitting, as I was putting on a show about knowing I could finish strong. A miracle might help. Fitting also, because Ty Taylor was the first Deadhead I have ever met. I was as intrigued by the dancing bears on the back of his truck topper as I was by the possibility that someone could live out of the back of his truck on cross-country trips from California to Minnesota. Man, I thought that was so cool!
THE RACE
I had two publicly-stated goals for the race.
I tried not to focus on what was ahead of me and just enjoy the start. The number of people running a race like Grandma's is amazing. There were 6211 people running that day. The sounds of footfalls at the beginning of a race is out of this world. Thud-thud. Thud-thud. Thud-thud. You can almost hear the miles and miles of training and effort in those thuds. It's one of the greatest sounds in the world.
Mile 1 came and went with a MapMyRun announcement of 8 minutes and some-odd seconds. I was on target and feeling good. There were plenty of race fans along the highway despite the weather and soon short-term goal (STG) #1 was accomplished. Water. The first water stop was at the three mile mark of the race. I had decided that it would be best to focus on small goals to help me get through the whole race. From here on out, water would be every two miles until Mile 19, when it would come every mile.
At Mile 4, I announced to the runners near me that we were just a 20-mile training run away from the end of the race. We all had a laugh and kept running. Then I did some quick mental math and realized that I'm a terrible subtractor. I was called out as not being a math guy, announced that I was indeed a language teacher and was told by Pink-shirt Girl that she was too. "¿Español?" she inquired. "Yes," I responded. "Yo también." And race camaraderie #1 was born. Pig-tail Braids Girl and I had a laugh about how I was already delirious at Mile 4 of the race and I subconsciously picked up my pace. Because we were gabbing? Because I wanted to get away from my fact-checkers?
I'm not sure when race camaraderie #2 was born, but I soon found myself in conversation with another runner. 40 Before 40 Girl told me that she was working on her 38th marathon when I told her that I was working on my first. Her goal was to finish this one, then do two more before she turned 40 years old. We ran together for quite a while, chatting and absorbing the rare glimpses of Lake Superior in the fog of a cold and misty (perfect for running?) day. It wasn't long before Ms. MapMyRun announced a 7:30ish pace in my ear before I told 40 Before 40 Girl that I was going to hang back a bit. I felt good at that pace, but I knew that I had much more race to run.
It was somewhere around Mile 6(?) or 8(?) that my MapMyRun failed me. The miles suddenly weren't matching up to the actual mile markers of the race and my pace had jumped to sub-six minute miles. I knew that wasn't right, so I resolved to focus only on the split timings to try to keep to reasonable miles.
"Hey Beard Guy!" I heard from behind me. As I turned to see who was admiring the Samson-like source of my running acumen, I saw that I was Pig-tail Braids Girl. She had caught up to me. Presuming that she wanted to rub it in that we were now in fact, a 20 mile training run from the finish line, I put aside my pride grateful for some company. We chatted for quite a while, but I lost her in a water stop. I'm guessing she passed me. 40 Before 40 Girl was long gone.
Before I knew it, Mile 13 had come and gone as well. Half way done. My chip time was a little behind the gun time, so when I saw 1:45:08, I was over the moon. My PR for the half marathon is 1:35:47, so less than 10 minutes slower meant that I was holding a good, just over 8 minute per mile pace. I knew that I was going to finish a marathon.
STG #2 was soon met when I reached Mile 14 and kept running. My last big training run was a disappointment for me. I had to stop and walk at 14, so STG#2 was to keep running at 14 and add a few more. I can't remember exactly where it was that I walked through a water station, but I want to say that it wasn't until I entered the city of Duluth, so that would mean that it wasn't until at least Mile 19, but I think it was even later than that. 20 or 21 maybe? Anyway, I had made up my mind that I would walk through the water stations to give myself a little break, but also to give myself enough time to make sure that I could get enough water in my gullet to keep me going.
Entering Duluth is a lot of fun for me. Mile 6 of the Half Marathon and Mile 19 of the Full is Lester River. I grew up here, jumping from the railroad bridge and cliffs into the various swimming holes. My memories of my childhood flood back buoyed by the rousing support of massive numbers of people lined up along the street. This is where the race turns from scenic, wooded solitude to a route lined with screaming, supportive fans. "Go Jason!" people were yelling. "Wow! What support," I thought. "People love me!" Then I realized that my name was on my bib and I wasn't famous. But that's just another thing that makes marathons great. People make you feel so good, that it's easy to power forward, one step at a time. Memories of my Grandma, unrestricted summer bike rides, homes lived in and slumber parties on London Road made the three miles to Lemon Drop Hill a blur. At least that's what I'm saying now. The truth is, I was hurting, so I may have blacked out at some point.
It was time for STG #3. The 26.2 mile marathon had become a race of 2 mile increments. Crossing Mile 20 was a big milestone. That was previously my longest run. I was now breaking distance records with each step. At some point I realized this and started playing the "This is My Longest Run Game."
How to play:
My pace was dropping and I was starting to feel the burn of running a marathon. Lemon Drop Hill is an icon of Grandma's Marathon. Up until 1990, the hill was actually there. It was the "make or break" point of many races. Elite runners made their move on the hill, leaving competitors in the dust. Exhausted overachievers dropped out after spending all of their energy on the incline. Today, the Lemon Drop Restaurant is gone. The hill is a shortish slope of refurbished highway, but the moniker remains. It was just before Lemon Drop Hill that the 3:35 group passed me. Quietly, I packed away Secret Goal #1. I was hoping for sub-3:30 finish. When the 3:35 pace group passed me and I didn't have the legs to catch them, I knew I would have to "settle" for a sub-4 hour time. In reality, I was okay with that. I was playing the mental game and I wanted to finish. Period.
After Lemon Drop Hill at Mile 22, I knew Kate would be waiting with the boy child and her parents around Mile 24. I couldn't wait to see them. Two grueling miles later, there they were. I was so happy, that I ran over to them, grabbed the boy child and tossed him in the air. Hey, my arms were fine. It was my legs that were tired. A quick kiss for luck and it was only 2.6 more miles to the Finish Line.
I crossed Mile 25 and I knew that I would finish. I was going to finish a marathon. With the satisfaction of checking that item of my list of life goals, I kept going. Not fast, but I kept going. In fact, I made the conscious decision to not go fast. "Just keep it up and you'll finish," I told myself. In fact, I slowed down in an effort to not overexert myself at the end. It was my slowest mile.
Coming around the the DECC near the William A. Irvin oreboat a guy on a megaphone was color commentating and said something like, "Everybody's doing great, that guy with the beard is doing great!" I tossed an I Love You hand sign into the air and he mistook it for the Heavy Metal hand sign and said something else that I wasn't capable of transferring into any real understanding. I was hurting, but smiling.
The last little bit of Grandma's and the Bjorklund is so much fun. There are people everywhere and they are going nuts. When I ran under the overpass into Canal Park, I couldn't even hear my music. I have made efforts in the past to sprint the final piece, but this year I was content to trot across the line and hear the announcer call my finish - "Jason Coleman of Eveleth."
My lifelong goal of running a marathon was realized. I cried. I knew I would. It was emotional. I couldn't believe that I had done it. Running for a reason makes it extra special. This year it was for Ty. Last year it was for Ellis. The year before it was for my Mom, my Grandma and too many others that had suffered with cancer.
POST RACE
I didn't have to jump over anybody as I crossed the line. What a relief! I tried to stretch and couldn't. I got my medal and my shirt and headed toward the recovery area. I stretched a bit, drank some water and celebrated with other finishers. "Great race! Congratulations! Oh no, I dropped my shirt all the way to the ground! I tried to catch you and couldn't (said to me, ironically, as I watched 29 people pass me in the finish)." It was amazing. But, I was having trouble walking and feeling my legs.
I left to find Kate (my phone had just died) when suddenly my cousin Ben and his wife appeared out of thin air. It was great to see them. The conversation went something like this:
Eventually, I got my stuff, found my family, had a celebratory beer and waited for my legs to come back. They eventually did and everyone spoiled me for the rest of the day.
Thanks for everything everybody. Every single one of you played an important part in this. My day was perfect in every way because of each of you and without a single one of you, it wouldn't have been the same.
BONUS:
Race statistics (for my numbers loving friends)
Finisher video
Crazy expensive Marathon Photos. Note: These are all from the last few miles. None were taken when I was feeling good and strong.
That brings me to the second dedication of today's run. It is with extreme gratitude that I dedicate my first full marathon to all of my friends and family who endured endless pleas for donations. Thank especially to Seth, Rachel, iBeck, Andrea, Bernie, Michael, Brian, Faze, Adam, Keir, Matt, Ben, Lucie, Marianna, Mrs and Mrs Doc, Liz, Julie, Ted, Michele, Lynner, Anonymous, Anja, Kathryn, DJ Boring, Skweebs, Heather, Lynner, Dr. A, Sara, Lacey, Chico, Rachel, Becky, Sandy and Lynnea for helping to raise money. It truly humbles me to know that you can be so generous. Thank you. For those that weren't able to help financially, thanks for the encouragement, the likes, the support and for reading this blog. You put up with me for four months and I appreciate it.
Finally, this run is ultimately dedicated to my wife, Kate. Without her support and encouragement I would have never been able to achieve this lifelong goal. I know my running took me out of the house a lot and that the long weekend runs made life with an infant and a dog challenging, but you wanted to help me and I appreciate it. To say thank you underplays how important your support has been, but thank you nonetheless. (Readers: if you think you were bombarded with pleas, running stories, extended run statistics - you should spend one day in Kate's shoes). Thanks Mug.
THE PRE-RACE
No run Thursday, no run Friday. I picked up my bib Friday night at the expo and bought a new water-proof running belt in preparation for forecasted thunderstorms. I carbo-loaded with a pasta dinner, drank several glasses of water and headed back to the lake to get my gear together for the race. (I only had to stop once on the way home to pee!)
When I got back to the house, I was faced with the decision of what to wear. The forecast was for rain, and I was sad. I did not want to run a marathon in the rain. I would if I had to, but it was not my preference. As a result, I ended up packing a choice of a short-sleeve shirt, a long-sleeve and a running hat. I figured I'd choose my outfit at the starting line. I also brought an extra set of regular headphones in the case of rain because my flashy new Bluetooth headphones are NOT waterproof. I checked my bag over and over and kept adding things; running belt, shoes, socks, shorts, my energy blocks, a towel, a banana, Vaseline, pants, a long-sleeve to wear after the race, a winter hat, socks, car keys, driver's license, money, credit card...in the end I forgot a pair of undies to wear after the race. Shhhh, it's our secret. Whoever says, "You only need shoes to run" is nuts. Don't believe them. I made a playlist, set my alarm for 4:45am and made in bed by a reasonable 10:30.
RACE DAY
I slept much better than I ever have before a big race and was pleasantly awoken at 4:33 by my son. I guess he wanted to wish me luck before I left. He went back to sleep and I decided to get an early (12 minutes early) jump on my day. I drank a small cup of cold coffee from the day before to proactively discourage the caffeine-withdrawl headache that I've suffered on longer runs.
I was in the car and on my way to Duluth before 5 o'clock. It was cold, below 50 degrees when I arrived to the shuttlebus. It was foggy, but not raining. I boarded the bus and started what my waiter later in the day would call the "long drive" to Two Harbors. Long drive, you should try the run! The energy on the bus was great, and I was looking forward to running. We arrived to Two Harbors about an hour before the race started, so there was plenty of waiting time in the morning mist. I was finally overcome by the urge to use the littlest bit of my phone's battery, so I posted a quick update, took a few snaps and started my playlist.
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| The over-achievers (starting in front of me) |
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| What am I about to do? Also-check out that other guy! |
THE RACE
I had two publicly-stated goals for the race.
- Finish in less than four hours.
- Don't start too hot! At least three people had sent me the link to this comic from the Oatmeal giving advice for first-time marathoners. The first section is all about starting too hot. Trying to avoid this, I set myself up in the 3:35 starting area. This would put me on about an 8 minute 12 second pace. I figured that would be a good start, not too hot.
I tried not to focus on what was ahead of me and just enjoy the start. The number of people running a race like Grandma's is amazing. There were 6211 people running that day. The sounds of footfalls at the beginning of a race is out of this world. Thud-thud. Thud-thud. Thud-thud. You can almost hear the miles and miles of training and effort in those thuds. It's one of the greatest sounds in the world.
Mile 1 came and went with a MapMyRun announcement of 8 minutes and some-odd seconds. I was on target and feeling good. There were plenty of race fans along the highway despite the weather and soon short-term goal (STG) #1 was accomplished. Water. The first water stop was at the three mile mark of the race. I had decided that it would be best to focus on small goals to help me get through the whole race. From here on out, water would be every two miles until Mile 19, when it would come every mile.
At Mile 4, I announced to the runners near me that we were just a 20-mile training run away from the end of the race. We all had a laugh and kept running. Then I did some quick mental math and realized that I'm a terrible subtractor. I was called out as not being a math guy, announced that I was indeed a language teacher and was told by Pink-shirt Girl that she was too. "¿Español?" she inquired. "Yes," I responded. "Yo también." And race camaraderie #1 was born. Pig-tail Braids Girl and I had a laugh about how I was already delirious at Mile 4 of the race and I subconsciously picked up my pace. Because we were gabbing? Because I wanted to get away from my fact-checkers?
I'm not sure when race camaraderie #2 was born, but I soon found myself in conversation with another runner. 40 Before 40 Girl told me that she was working on her 38th marathon when I told her that I was working on my first. Her goal was to finish this one, then do two more before she turned 40 years old. We ran together for quite a while, chatting and absorbing the rare glimpses of Lake Superior in the fog of a cold and misty (perfect for running?) day. It wasn't long before Ms. MapMyRun announced a 7:30ish pace in my ear before I told 40 Before 40 Girl that I was going to hang back a bit. I felt good at that pace, but I knew that I had much more race to run.
It was somewhere around Mile 6(?) or 8(?) that my MapMyRun failed me. The miles suddenly weren't matching up to the actual mile markers of the race and my pace had jumped to sub-six minute miles. I knew that wasn't right, so I resolved to focus only on the split timings to try to keep to reasonable miles.
"Hey Beard Guy!" I heard from behind me. As I turned to see who was admiring the Samson-like source of my running acumen, I saw that I was Pig-tail Braids Girl. She had caught up to me. Presuming that she wanted to rub it in that we were now in fact, a 20 mile training run from the finish line, I put aside my pride grateful for some company. We chatted for quite a while, but I lost her in a water stop. I'm guessing she passed me. 40 Before 40 Girl was long gone.
Before I knew it, Mile 13 had come and gone as well. Half way done. My chip time was a little behind the gun time, so when I saw 1:45:08, I was over the moon. My PR for the half marathon is 1:35:47, so less than 10 minutes slower meant that I was holding a good, just over 8 minute per mile pace. I knew that I was going to finish a marathon.
STG #2 was soon met when I reached Mile 14 and kept running. My last big training run was a disappointment for me. I had to stop and walk at 14, so STG#2 was to keep running at 14 and add a few more. I can't remember exactly where it was that I walked through a water station, but I want to say that it wasn't until I entered the city of Duluth, so that would mean that it wasn't until at least Mile 19, but I think it was even later than that. 20 or 21 maybe? Anyway, I had made up my mind that I would walk through the water stations to give myself a little break, but also to give myself enough time to make sure that I could get enough water in my gullet to keep me going.
Entering Duluth is a lot of fun for me. Mile 6 of the Half Marathon and Mile 19 of the Full is Lester River. I grew up here, jumping from the railroad bridge and cliffs into the various swimming holes. My memories of my childhood flood back buoyed by the rousing support of massive numbers of people lined up along the street. This is where the race turns from scenic, wooded solitude to a route lined with screaming, supportive fans. "Go Jason!" people were yelling. "Wow! What support," I thought. "People love me!" Then I realized that my name was on my bib and I wasn't famous. But that's just another thing that makes marathons great. People make you feel so good, that it's easy to power forward, one step at a time. Memories of my Grandma, unrestricted summer bike rides, homes lived in and slumber parties on London Road made the three miles to Lemon Drop Hill a blur. At least that's what I'm saying now. The truth is, I was hurting, so I may have blacked out at some point.
It was time for STG #3. The 26.2 mile marathon had become a race of 2 mile increments. Crossing Mile 20 was a big milestone. That was previously my longest run. I was now breaking distance records with each step. At some point I realized this and started playing the "This is My Longest Run Game."
How to play:
- Say, "This is my longest run."
- Run one step forward.
- Say, "Now this is."
- Repeat.
My pace was dropping and I was starting to feel the burn of running a marathon. Lemon Drop Hill is an icon of Grandma's Marathon. Up until 1990, the hill was actually there. It was the "make or break" point of many races. Elite runners made their move on the hill, leaving competitors in the dust. Exhausted overachievers dropped out after spending all of their energy on the incline. Today, the Lemon Drop Restaurant is gone. The hill is a shortish slope of refurbished highway, but the moniker remains. It was just before Lemon Drop Hill that the 3:35 group passed me. Quietly, I packed away Secret Goal #1. I was hoping for sub-3:30 finish. When the 3:35 pace group passed me and I didn't have the legs to catch them, I knew I would have to "settle" for a sub-4 hour time. In reality, I was okay with that. I was playing the mental game and I wanted to finish. Period.
After Lemon Drop Hill at Mile 22, I knew Kate would be waiting with the boy child and her parents around Mile 24. I couldn't wait to see them. Two grueling miles later, there they were. I was so happy, that I ran over to them, grabbed the boy child and tossed him in the air. Hey, my arms were fine. It was my legs that were tired. A quick kiss for luck and it was only 2.6 more miles to the Finish Line.
I crossed Mile 25 and I knew that I would finish. I was going to finish a marathon. With the satisfaction of checking that item of my list of life goals, I kept going. Not fast, but I kept going. In fact, I made the conscious decision to not go fast. "Just keep it up and you'll finish," I told myself. In fact, I slowed down in an effort to not overexert myself at the end. It was my slowest mile.
Coming around the the DECC near the William A. Irvin oreboat a guy on a megaphone was color commentating and said something like, "Everybody's doing great, that guy with the beard is doing great!" I tossed an I Love You hand sign into the air and he mistook it for the Heavy Metal hand sign and said something else that I wasn't capable of transferring into any real understanding. I was hurting, but smiling.
The last little bit of Grandma's and the Bjorklund is so much fun. There are people everywhere and they are going nuts. When I ran under the overpass into Canal Park, I couldn't even hear my music. I have made efforts in the past to sprint the final piece, but this year I was content to trot across the line and hear the announcer call my finish - "Jason Coleman of Eveleth."
My lifelong goal of running a marathon was realized. I cried. I knew I would. It was emotional. I couldn't believe that I had done it. Running for a reason makes it extra special. This year it was for Ty. Last year it was for Ellis. The year before it was for my Mom, my Grandma and too many others that had suffered with cancer.
POST RACE
I didn't have to jump over anybody as I crossed the line. What a relief! I tried to stretch and couldn't. I got my medal and my shirt and headed toward the recovery area. I stretched a bit, drank some water and celebrated with other finishers. "Great race! Congratulations! Oh no, I dropped my shirt all the way to the ground! I tried to catch you and couldn't (said to me, ironically, as I watched 29 people pass me in the finish)." It was amazing. But, I was having trouble walking and feeling my legs.
I left to find Kate (my phone had just died) when suddenly my cousin Ben and his wife appeared out of thin air. It was great to see them. The conversation went something like this:
Congratulations!
Thanks!
How was it?
Pretty terrible. It's very hard to run a marathon. It's quite long.
Ha.
I need to sit down.
Sure. (awkward silence)
I need to stand up.
Okay.
Eventually, I got my stuff, found my family, had a celebratory beer and waited for my legs to come back. They eventually did and everyone spoiled me for the rest of the day.
Thanks for everything everybody. Every single one of you played an important part in this. My day was perfect in every way because of each of you and without a single one of you, it wouldn't have been the same.
RUN STATS:
Distance - 26.2 miles (That's a marathon!)
Time - 3:37:25
Soundtrack - See belowBONUS:
Race statistics (for my numbers loving friends)
Finisher video
Crazy expensive Marathon Photos. Note: These are all from the last few miles. None were taken when I was feeling good and strong.
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