In It for the Long Run: A Decade with the Darkside Running Club

Contents

Foreword from Scott

Foreword from Vanessa

Preamble: The DARKSIDE Philosophy, Rules and Regulations

Chapter One  26.2 Miles…because 26.3 is just CRAZY

Chapter Two  When a Marathon just ain’t enough

Chapter Three  50 Miles: Now we’re getting somewhere…

Chapter Four  Running’s Holy Grail: One Hundred Miles

Chapter Five  After 100 Miles, what’s next?

Chapter Six  When Time is of the Essence

Chapter Seven  The Kitchen Sink: From 10K to 2,176 miles on the Appalachian Trail

Chapter Eight  Character Studies

Chapter Nine  What Lies Beneath

Chapter Ten  You can call me Al

Chapter Eleven  Profiling the Darkside

Chapter Twelve  Cover Art

Chapter Thirteen  Peachtree City 50K (and 25K)

Chapter Fourteen  Darkside 8-Hour Run

Chapter Fifteen  Flying Penguin Awards

Chapter Sixteen  Annual Awards

Acknowledgements

This is Why I Run (Poem by Lloyd Young)

DEDICATION

For Angela Ivory, running’s number one ambassador

Her effervescent smile will be missed on the roads and trails, but her spirit will always be in our hearts

Foreword from Scott

When Al Barker and I formed the Darkside Running Club just over a decade ago, we honestly thought our original membership of six would be a finite number. We had no idea, and certainly no reason to believe the club would ever extend beyond our initial core of a half-dozen members.

Well, as I write this in the spring of 2012, we couldn’t have been more wrong with our original assessment. In the past 10 years Darkside membership has increased 3,833%. 3,833% (which is actually just an impressive way of reporting we now have 230 members)!!!

Our first quarterly newsletter, published in March 2002 was a mere 26 pages long. Issue # 40, published in December 2011 and celebrating the 10-year anniversary of the club, concluded with the composite 3,089th page of Darkside legend and lore. Certainly the club newsletter, absolutely true…Tales from the Darkside has provided a wealth of running information to the club members, but perhaps more importantly it has provided a source of inspiration, motivation and encouragement that has shown time and again it has that ‘something extra’ with which others can use to make their dreams a reality.

The continued achievements of the members of the Darkside Running Club as runners and/or supporters of the sport of running continue to amaze me. They are among the finest people I have ever met, and it is with great honor and (Al loves when I use this adjective) passion Vanessa Stroud and I share some of the history of the first decade of the Darkside Running Club.

You’re about to embark on a journey—the same journey the Darkside has taken during our first decade together. Actually, it’s more of an evolution. What began as an intimate ‘party of six’ focusing on distances up to the marathon quickly grew to the club it is today with members running 50 miles, 100 miles and beyond…way beyond. Buckle up—it’s going to be a long and bumpy ride. One that you’ll never, ever forget.

Our club mission statement—and the title of this book—says it all, as the Darkside Running Club is truly ‘in it for the long run.’

Sit back and enjoy reading about the lives, the dreams and the adventures of various members of the Darkside Running Club. My hope is that you too will want to become a Darksider (but my guess is that deep down inside you’re one already).

Scott Ludwig, 2012

Foreword from Vanessa

Between Heaven and Hell exists a place where passionate commitment collides with sheer will power resulting in physical feats that to casual bystanders may appear amazing or just plain crazy. Sometimes bordering on self-imposed, hard labor imprisonment, oftentimes resembling the summit of the most breath-taking mountain peaks, long distance running is dangerously beautiful. Presented to the right personality type it is highly addictive, able to quickly consume those who dare to venture into these depths; many never return to the ranks of average human existence. This place is better known as The Darkside.

The Darkside is a world where ‘shut up and run’ is the morning mantra. Where fellow runners challenge each other to push beyond known limits. Where no distance or locale is too far. Where an unspoken code of ethics bonds strangers instantly. Where an unlimited source of experience can provide hours of seemingly casual conversation yet filled with nuggets of wisdom and training advice worth infinitely more than any popular publication.

Who are these Darksiders? What makes them sign up for a journey that will require such dedication, physical exertion, sacrifice, and mental fortitude that most will never understand, let alone be inspired to consider it for themselves? The fact that the journey is only punctuated here and there by cryptic race results only serves to discount in the minds of onlookers the years of preparation, training, and discipline willingly invested to delve into this lifestyle. Even those closest to these individuals, regardless of how supportive they may be, cannot truly grasp what drives them to train in heat, storms, bitter cold, setting aside nagging injuries or less than optimal circumstances, to strive toward a prize that many times is intangible or unidentifiable to the innocent bystander. And for the most part, these runners believe all this activity to be fun, a mainstay of entertainment, the veritable fountain of youth.

Each runner’s journey is completely unique. Their motivation derives from very different places, sometimes constant yet ever evolving, occasionally self-centered but often times selfless. Some are running to something, others away; some to find themselves, others to lose themselves in the comforting rhythm of footfalls over countless hours and miles. But for all, there exists an undeniably, ever present force urging the runner to acknowledge it daily, creating a strong bond of kinship between otherwise very different people.

This book, a compilation of a decade of living on The Darkside, is rich with experiences from the strangely humorous, to unbelievable but absolutely true, to the downright profound. If you, the reader, are a runner, enjoy. If you are not a runner, I encourage you to read it with curiosity…as if you were a kid being whisked off on the adventure of a lifetime with Peter Pan leading the way. It is with great honor that I introduce you to The Darkside.

Vanessa Stroud, 2012

Preamble: The DARKSIDE Philosophy, Rules and Regulations

The name Darkside is appropriate for this club for a number of reasons. The two most obvious are (a) it is not like the ordinary local running club (which will become very apparent as you read on) and (b) the members do a great deal of their training in the dark (literally) running between 3:00 and 6:00 a.m. The Darkside was unofficially founded on the following principals:

•   A passion for running

•   A desire to stay in marathon shape year round

•   Competition

•   Camaraderie/ pushing one another to excel

•   A keen sense of humor

•   Dedication

•   Not taking ourselves seriously

•   A love of marathons…and beyond

•   Believing that nothing is outside the realm of possibility

•   A passion for running… The reiteration is quite intentional.

The rules and regulations for membership are more theoretical than reality, of course, as it would be virtually impossible to live up to all of them. But we like to pretend. Besides, we change them on a whim whenever we feel like it.

The Rules and Regulations:

•   Whining and excuses are forbidden.

•   At some time, you must have qualified to run the Boston Marathon.

º   Or are actively working toward qualifying, which appears to be a moving target as it seems the BAA is revising the requirements on a semi-annual basis.

•   Public urination is a requisite.

º   OK, maybe not a requisite, but there is certainly nothing wrong with it. Over the years of Sunday 20-milers, Scott has averaged five pit stops per Sunday (Al Barker, however, is the exception, as he has never had to make a pit stop. Ever). If you do the math, that means Scott has stopped over 4,000 times during these long runs. And if you think dogs take pride in marking their territory, they don’t hold a torch to Scott! That’s not to say the ladies don’t participate. In fact, certain spots (trees, bushes) have been designated as ‘men’s’ and ‘ladies’ for use on Sundays. Some of our ladies do it standing up, by the way.

•   Live by the slogan, If you don’t make eye contact, it didn’t happen.

º   This is particularly helpful when following the previous rule. Therefore, any behavior which a sane person would consider unacceptable (public urination, changing clothes next to your car – with the car door ‘blocking’ the view, of course), is perfectly acceptable if you don’t make eye contact with anyone. Therefore, if you didn’t see them, then there couldn’t have been anyone who could have seen you. Try it sometime!

•   Tobacco is not allowed; alcohol, however, is strongly encouraged.

º   Any form of tobacco is downright disgusting; it smells, it makes you cough, it (eventually) kills. On the other hand, there is nothing better to celebrate the completion of a marathon (or some other worthy accomplishment) with than good ol’ alcohol.

•   There is no such thing as a choice between running the marathon or the half marathon; marathons rule. (Same applies to an event holding races of multiple distances: always opt for the longest.)

•   Triathlons are prohibited.

•   Running in a race wearing the shirt from that race could result in serious consequences.

•   A minimum of two marathons annually. Period.

º   To answer your first question: NO, ultras do NOT count as marathons. Now, the reason for this regulation: what is the purpose of 20-milers each and every Sunday if you don’t get the opportunity to ‘cash in’ (i.e. run a marathon) at least once every six months?

•   Paying for coaching? You may as well run in a race with the shirt from that race!

•   Facts only. No bragging. Report on your results only when asked.

•   It’s never too early/late/hot/cold/(insert excuse here) to run.

º   There’s a clue built into this one. Try ‘excuse.’ Al once said before an important race that would seed him for yet another important race, ‘no excuses.’ To this day we’ve run with that sentiment in our minds. Need to get a run in at 2:30 a.m.? Set your alarm for 2:00. Twenty below zero? Dress in layers. Torrential downpour? Wear a hat. One hundred and ten in the shade tomorrow? Run before the sun comes up. Remember, where there’s a will…

•   Stay in marathon shape year-round: you never know when one is going to break out (this requires a minimum of ONE 20+ miler per month).

•   Maintain enough mileage to allow for guilt-free food (or drink) binges.

•   Remember the sage advice of not wearing a new pair of running shoes in a marathon? Forget it!

•   Stay away from trail running (*Scott’s rule—you may be the exception, however). You’re not a mountain goat.

º   *See Scott’s recap of his participation in the Oak Mountain 50K…or the JFK 50. After that, you’ll understand. Completely.

º   This is where some members ignore a few regulations while the others look away. Some of us not only run trails, we direct some of the finest trail race events in the Southeast.

•   IV’s, medical tents, ambulances: signs of weakness, not a badge of courage.

•   No prima donnas.

•   No bailing out early on long runs, unless you say so up front.

º   If you do (bail out early that is), we have plenty of options for you: Wimp Alley, Pansy Way, etc. (These are the names for our bailout spots in our traditional 20-mile route used on Sunday mornings in Peachtree City, Georgia.) Again, if you say you’re cutting the run short up front, we’ll simply smirk ever-so-slightly when you take a cutoff. Well, most of the time, anyway.

•   No headphones. If you have to, sing out loud. Or ask someone else to sing. But for Pete’s sake, no headphones.

•   Natural noises emanating from the body? Highly encouraged (if simply for the entertainment value alone)!

•   No name-dropping (‘me and Uta’, ‘I was telling Billy,’ etc.).

•   No race-dropping (‘at Gasparilla,’ ‘going up Heartbreak Hill,’ etc.).

•   Asking ‘what time are you trying to run’ before a race is just plain rude.

•   Once you say it, you GOTTA do it!

•   Relays are for those who can’t do the whole distance by themselves.

º   Needs NO explanation. Handing off a baton/sash/etc. to another runner is a metaphor for Wimp Alley in our book.

•   When running with others, always be where you say you’ll be as well as on time.

•   Reasons for missing a group run you said you’d attend: loss of limb, loss of a family member, loss of consciousness, loss of life (yours). Not necessarily all at the same time, however. Well, maybe.

•   No excuses!

These are the original rules adopted by the Darkside Running Club by its original six members in December 2001. Over the years the rules have changed slightly (as stated earlier, they can be changed on a whim), but one rule holds firmly in place:

No excuses!

CHAPTER ONE

26.2 Miles…because 26.3 is just CRAZY

Ever since Phidippides ran 40 kilometers from the battlefield near Marathon, Greece, to Athens to announce the Greek victory over Persia in the Battle of Marathon…and subsequently collapsed and died on the spot from exhaustion, runners everywhere have been fascinated with finding out if they might have a little more luck at the distance than the late Athenian. Phidippides died over 2,500 years ago, yet his spirit lives on in many of us.

Other than a runner’s first mile, the marathon is the distance by which, once completed, a runner joins the ranks of those who have earned the right to showcase the coveted ’26.2’ decal on their car window.

Darksiders share that same fascination with the marathon. It’s hard to gauge how many marathons have been run by the members of the club, but it’s safe to say that there aren’t many marathons in the United States whose finish line hasn’t been crossed by one of us.

Our club membership includes many members of the Fifty States Marathon Club (one of our members was the President of the club at one time), the Marathon Maniacs, and the 100 Marathons Club. Also on our roster are Larry Macon of San Antonio, Texas, who set the Guinness World Record for most marathons in a calendar year (113 marathons in 2011, with a lifetime total of 825) and Jerry Dunn of Spearfish, South Dakota, who ran 200 unofficial marathons in 2000 (on a whim, no less).

Suffice it to say that a membership in the Darkside Running Club connects you with a group of runners who collectively can give you any information you could possibly ask for (course description, event organization, where to stay, how to get there, etc.) about any marathon in the world; if they haven’t run it personally, you can bet they know someone who has!

In this chapter you will get a sample of what you might expect should you happen to ask a Darksider for an opinion about a particular marathon.

Avoiding The Wall

By Dave Dial

One of the more memorable moments in my life happened in early June, albeit years ago. To be specific, the year was 1980 and on a warm southeast Texas day I found myself giving a talk to the entire student body and faculty of the elementary school I’d once attended. The story behind the story is that I’d run the Boston Marathon just weeks earlier and as a 19-year old had finished in the top 50. The other story behind the story is that my father was the principal of that elementary school.

I’ve always heard everyone has their 15 minutes of fame; and if that’s the case, then mine came during the weeks following Boston ’80. Our phone seemingly rang off the wall and I found myself being asked to do numerous newspaper and television interviews, not to mention making appearances at local functions and road races. Furthermore, in the city where I lived, I was asked to tour schools and make motivational speeches to the students.

I have to admit even in retrospect making the transition from a solitary long distance runner to a celebrity of sorts, signing autographs for hundreds of kids was, in a word, surreal. And basking in the afterglow of my best marathon performance to date coupled with the above, I should’ve been on top of the world relishing each and every moment while resting on my laurels, so to speak. However, there was one obstacle keeping me from doing that, namely, my father.

The ‘running’ battle with my father started when I was a senior in high school. I had fallen in love with running, basically to the exclusion of everything else, and had the goal of some day running the Boston Marathon. Of course I still did my chores around the house and always stayed on top of my schoolwork. However I didn’t hang out with my classmates and instead opted to hook up, for running purposes only, with a group of local runners who were all several years my senior. I also never went on dates because in my mind that would have been a distraction and I simply wanted to focus on my running. My goals seemed very reasonable to me but I soon discovered my lack of social life was driving my father nuts!

Why don’t you go to the prom? he’d ask.

Because I don’t want to be out late when I have a long run planned for the next day, I’d respond.

Well, why do you have to run SO much? he’d retort.

Because I want to run Boston! I’d offer up in defense.

Well, this is silly! When are you going to stop this foolishness? he’d add.

And that question, among all the others he would ask I perceived to be detrimental to my running always effectively ended our discussion. I can’t recall who stopped talking first but something tells me we did it simultaneously. My father stopped asking me about my running, or anything else for that matter, and I stopped talking to him. Our battle had, using running terminology, hit the wall; a deafening wall of silence that lasted for what seemed an eternity. We lived in the same house yet we grew to become strangers. I knew our relationship, or lack thereof, had to be very painful for my father because I knew how much I was hurting inside. As for myself, I took that pain and tried to spread it over the miles and miles of roads I covered each day, stubbornly refusing to lose focus with Boston looming on the horizon.

Boston 1980, as you already know, came and went. And, the applause of million-plus spectators lining the route that unseasonably warm mid-April day was replaced weeks later by the applause of 500 or so students and faculty following the talk I gave at my father’s elementary school. As everyone rose to leave, and I will never forget this moment, my father stopped them by saying "One final thing. I know you think that because Dave is my son I helped him achieve this goal. But, if anything, I didn’t and I’m sorry I didn’t. In fact I know I made it harder for him. He kept chasing his dreams though and he proved to me, like he told all of you today, that if you want something badly enough you can go out and make it happen. I’m very, very proud of you Dave!"

During the applause that followed my dad’s closing remarks I stood there stunned, fighting back the tears. My dad had not only apologized to me but furthermore had done so in front of both his peers and an auditorium filled with kids who in many ways looked up to him as the person with all the answers. What my dad did on that day is one of the gutsiest things I’ve EVER seen anyone do.

When I think back on the above events I recall being asked at one point during that assembly whether it hurt to run a marathon and remember responding without hesitation, There’s no such thing as a painless marathon. And, you know, I guess the same could be said of growing up or even life in general. In short, there are times it’s going to hurt. However, if there’s a lesson in my rambling somewhere, it’s that what I learned from my dad those many years ago is sometimes a simple I’m sorry can make all that pain go away.

Thank you, Dad. To this day, I know you’ve always just wanted what you thought was best for me and I love you for it.

This story initially appeared in San Diego Family Magazine in June 2001.

On its inclusion in the magazine, author Dave Dial reflected:

I’d been writing a regular column for these folks called ‘Family Man’ which was basically about being a dad, so for that, the Father’s Day issue, I decided to revisit my past and write about being a son. I guess I did that to both honor my dad and gain some closure on a very tough time we once went through. When I got into it though, it wasn’t easy; it’s hard to write when you’re crying…

Thirty-plus years removed from the events Dave chronicled in this heartfelt story, the devastating drought of 2011 saw Dave return to his home state of Texas to lend a hand to his now-retired dad with much-needed assistance in terms of his land and cattle. There, working side-by-side, the father and son managed to keep the senior Dial’s properties viable.

Reflecting on that experience Dave remarked, I guess we’ve now mended fences in more ways than one.

Guess Who’s Going to Boston?

The 2003 St. George Marathon

By Scott Ludwig

If I hadn’t been there to witness it personally, I never would have believed it.

A friend of mine…at this point he/she will remain anonymous…had asked me almost a year ago if I would pace him/her at the St. George Marathon. The goal: to get my friend qualified for the Boston Marathon. That meant running a time of 3:35 or better, which if achieved, would be his/her personal best as well. I agreed, as long as my friend agreed to do the required mileage I believed was necessary for the goal to be reached.

My friend stayed the course by running a 20-miler every two or three weeks and doing mile repeats (albeit sporadically) on the track. However, I wasn’t sure my friend was doing quite enough mileage on the other days of the week to get the 45-50 weekly miles I felt were necessary for a 3:35. I’m not even sure my friend was doing 35-40 miles a week, but I knew we were going to St. George to give it a shot regardless.

Race morning I assured my friend (for the 100th time) that a ‘3:40’ was ‘in the bag’. (My running joke was that I thought a 3:40 was the time he needed to qualify for Boston, although I was well aware 3:35 was the actual requirement.) My friend asked me the game plan I had in store, which was:

•   Run the first seven downhill miles at a pace slightly under eight minutes per mile.

•   Make it through the next two uphill miles so that our split at the nine-mile mark was 72 minutes or better.

•   Run the next 11 miles at a pace between 8:05 and 8:10.

•   ‘Enjoy’ the final 6.2 (downhill miles) with a casual pace around 8:15 per mile.

Following this game plan would result in a time between 3:31 and 3:33 (the latter being the time I predicted my friend would run), easily qualifying him/her for Boston.

Now, how did my friend do?

•   The first seven miles the overall pace was 7:42 (including a quick 7:22 5th mile).

•   The split at the nine-mile mark was 70:20 (1:40 ahead of plan).

•   At the 20 mile mark the overall pace was 8:02 per mile (3:20 ahead of our overall goal pace).

•   By the 23rd mile, we were almost four minutes ahead of our goal.

At this point, I felt really good about my friend’s chances for qualifying for Boston. Then it happened. Around the 23rd mile mark my friend ran out of gas, something I wasn’t counting on. Particularly since the last three miles were downhill and supported by large crowds of cheering fans. Sixty seconds of running were followed by 30 seconds of walking. Our precious four-minute cushion was slowly evaporating. We made the left hand turn and ran…for 60 seconds. We walked, and again I was asked ‘are we OK?’ One thing I neglected to mention to my friend earlier was that to qualify for Boston, any time between 3:35:00 and 3:35:59 was acceptable. At this point I debated whether I should enlighten him/her, but I was afraid that knowing about the extra 59 second ‘cushion’ would result in even more walking than we were already doing. So I conveniently forgot to mention it.

When there was about 1/3 of a mile to the finish line, I told my friend we needed to run the rest of the way to make qualifying time. We managed to run for the longest amount of time we had run in over three miles – almost three minutes – and crossed the finish line with a chip time of 3:35:10. I was excited that my friend qualified for Boston. However, my friend thought he/she had missed the goal by 10 seconds (remember I withheld the fact there was a 59 second cushion!) and was obviously pretty discouraged. I hurried over to tell him/her that we indeed did achieve our Boston qualifying goal, and explained that any time of 3:35:59 or better was all that was necessary. After asking me ‘are you SURE’ about as many times as he/she asked ‘are we OK’ earlier, my friend was convinced he/she would be in Boston next April.

Mission accomplished. Apparently Boston’s qualifying standards had eased in recent years so much that now ‘every Tom, Dick and Eric*could qualify.’

Scott’s friend is none other than the President of the Darkside Ladies’ Auxiliary, Eric* Huguelet. In one of the most memorable finish line photos of all time, a grimacing Eric is captured beneath the finish line clock as it clearly displays a ‘gun time’ of (wait for it!) 3:35:59.

Eric assures us the first annual Ladies’ Auxiliary Bake Sale and Fund Raiser is going to be taking place any day now. It must be true, as Eric wouldn’t be saying the same thing since 2002 if it wasn’t.

Eric ran the 2004 Boston Marathon: his first, last and in all likelihood his one and only trip to Hopkinton. Eric asked we not mention his finishing time of 4:43, so if he asks, you didn’t hear it from us.

What’s in a Name?

The 2005 Snickers Marathon Energy Bar Marathon

I’ve always enjoyed running inaugural marathons, so it came as no surprise when I found myself on the starting line of the First Snickers Marathon Energy Bar Marathon in Albany, Georgia on March 3rd. I’ve got to admit, I was impressed…very impressed. For a first-time event, the organization, execution and support from both the volunteers and the Albanians were absolutely tremendous. Below are a few details of the event. Once you review them, you can begin making plans to cross this one off your bucket list.

Course: A nice and for the most part flat tour of Albany, Georgia. Starting with a run through the campus of Albany State University, the course then runs along several of the major thoroughfares through the city and finishes up with routes through several upscale neighborhoods with a finish in the park along ‘for-the-life-of-me-I-can’t-remember-the-name-of-it-and-couldn’t-find-it-on-the-map-either-and-yes-I-looked-at-one’ river. From my perspective, the only downside was that it was incredibly difficult to find a discreet spot to make a pit stop, seeing as there were volunteers and/or police and/or volunteers at every intersection. Not to mention that the entire course was either parallel to a busy road or through really nice, and visibly populated neighborhoods. However, I did finally manage to find one…a discreet spot that is. Three, actually. Better make it an even half-dozen (Mother Nature has my bladder on speed dial, no doubt). My score: 9.

Organization: The event started precisely on time. All the mile marks and splits seemed to be accurate. The volunteers, and there were plenty of them, were all well prepared and knew what was expected of them. And the awards were promptly presented, although the ceremony dragged a bit, as photographs were taken of every age group winner. My score: 9 (10 if the subjects of the photographs didn’t look so…well, you know!).

Amenities: Nice T-shirt (albeit short sleeved) and medal (a different one for both the marathon and half marathon finishers), cold and readily-available fluids along the course, lots of post-race treats (primarily products of Mars Incorporated, including lots and lots of Snickers Marathon Energy Bars), expediently printed results, and a valiant effort at giving all age group award winners a framed ‘finish line’ photo. Even though there were some computer glitches prohibiting that from happening and photos were mailed a couple of days after the race, the frames were presented at the awards ceremony. My score: 9.

Weather: I realize the Race Director has no control over the weather, but this particular gamble of conducting a marathon in March in south Georgia proved to be a good one. The weather was absolutely perfect. My score: 10.

Prize Money: Yes, there was prize money…but only for the overall male and female winners of the marathon. The winning times? For men: 2:30. For women: 3:32. Their winnings? $3,000 each! Sorry ladies, you snooze, you lose.

Crowd Support: The race flyer promised ‘enthusiastic support.’ As I spent most of the race running alone, I can tell you that I’ve never spent that much time engaging in conversation with the spectators and volunteers along the course. I had a blast. My score: 10.

If you’re looking for a fun, well-organized event that is proudly, professionally, and enthusiastically supported by the ‘home crowd’ this is the one. And in conclusion, let me just say:

Snickers Satisfies

Scott has run the Snickers Marathon Energy Bar Marathon every year since its inception. Obviously he really enjoys the race…so much that the Race Director invited him to speak at the pre-race pasta dinner in 2011. He concluded his presentation with the story about the aftermath of an earlier Snickers Marathon involving Scott changing out of his running clothes in the parking lot afterwards, the town locals who took offense to it, and the five (yes, five!) police officers called to the scene…another tale for another book (look for ‘Distance Memories: Reflections of a Life on the Run’ in 2013!). By Scott Ludwig

A Bar, A Moose and a Marathon!

The 2005 Humpy’s Great Alaskan Ale House Marathon

By Jill Floyd

My running friend John called back in March to discuss a summer marathon we could run and then turn into a ‘vacation’ for our families. I mentioned that my neighbor was doing the Mayor’s Midnight Sun Marathon and Half Marathon in June and that Alaska might be a cool place for our adventure. However, due to scheduling conflicts none of us could make a June trip. Bummed, my friend kept scouring the internet until he found another Alaskan marathon, this time in August. What would you think about the Humpy’s Great Alaskan Ale House Marathon on August 21st? he asked. Hmmm…I thought. A marathon that starts and ends at a bar? SIGN ME UP!!! So on August 21st I took part in the marathon while my friend John ran the half marathon. Here’s my review:

Weather: (4-5) We awoke to 35 mile-per-hour howling winds, which were complemented by heavy rain. It rained throughout the race, though it did lighten up toward the end. The winds calmed down to around 15-20 mph with occasional gusts towards the end of the race. Other than the rain, wind, and wet heavy shoes, the 55-degree temperature and overcast skies made for a good day.

Course Beauty: (9-10) The course was run along the Coastal Bike Trail that follows the coastline of Anchorage and passes through Earthquake Park. The first turnaround was at the edge of Kincaid Park. Then, the last six or seven miles were run on the Campbell Creek greenway that was truly beautiful with its streams and parks. It was essentially the Silver Comet Trail (a favorite running route near Atlanta, Georgia) sprinkled with some small hills and much greater beauty.

Race Organization/logistics: (9-10) Fantastic! There was a free pasta dinner (which was really good!) for all entrants. Packet and shirt pick up was the easiest I’ve ever encountered. On race day, there were ample aid stations that had water and some type of sports drink that I wasn’t familiar with and tasted a bit like cough syrup. GU was provided at several of the aid stations. Volunteers were comprised of various cross-country teams from around the area and they were great! Everyone was so nice and friendly; I was TOTALLY impressed. Though there were a couple of opportunities on the greenway to take the wrong path, I was usually with someone who knew the course or was fortunate enough to take the right path.

Appropriateness for First Timers: (9-10) Yes, very! They even have a walkers division that starts at 7:00 instead of 8:00. The only thing is that it’s a small race, which means you may be running alone. However I enjoyed this because I was able to see the leaders at turnarounds and could determine I was putting in a good effort.

Crowds: (4-5) If you’re looking for big crowds, this is not the marathon to run. However, if you’re looking for camaraderie among entrants and an occasional local runner or cyclist to cheer you on, this is a great race. We were all cheering each other on as we ran.

Awards: (7) Great long-sleeve T-shirt with Humpy’s logo, great beer at the end (not free, but who cares?) and age groups awards were small coins (fine by me since I was traveling). The marathon finisher’s medal was small but nice.

What I Liked Best: Getting to see a lot of Anchorage and then being able to go back to these places with my husband later; the small size of the marathon…I’ve always run mega marathons; being able to see the 747’s taking off from Anchorage International Airport which borders Kincaid Park; and, of course, the BEER after the race!

What I Liked Least: Though totally a wooded area, Kincaid Park and the area surrounding it borders the Anchorage International Airport. At one point around mile 13, the wind shifted and I was overwhelmed by the smell of jet fuel. It did pass quickly though.

What I Thought I Would NEVER See in a Marathon: Two moose at mile 11 or 12! Another runner pointed them out and they were close to the trail, but totally oblivious to us runners. They were also totally ignoring the sound of roaring jet engines on the airport runway. It was incredible!

While writing another article in 2008, Jill did an internet search of her past race results. Her Humpy’s Marathon results showed up first, as being the most recently searched. She thought it was odd since the race was three years ago, but then she noticed why:

Highlighted with Jill’s results (she placed second in her age group) was the third place finisher in her age group—Sarah Palin from Wasilla, Alaska! It didn’t hurt that 2008 was an election year! It turns out Jill beat Sarah Palin by one minute (3:58 versus 3:59 .

Aiming to Please

The 2009 Ridge to Bridge Marathon

By Scott Ludwig

Fall signals the beginning of marathon season. Even though my now-going-on-four-years battle with some L-5 vertebrae issues in my lower back continue to nag me, I couldn’t stand the thought of waiting any longer to get out there and give 26.2 miles a shot. The fact that many members of the Darkside Running Club were running some fantastic races all over the country in distances ranging from half marathons to 100-milers wasn’t helping matters. My last marathon had been almost five months ago - the usual ‘dry spell’ from that last springtime marathon to the onset of a fresh marathon season in the fall.

I chose the Ridge to Bridge Marathon, a lovely stretch of roads and trails from Jonas Ridge to Brown Mountain Beach near Morganton, North Carolina, to scratch my marathon itch. Actually, the course consists of approximately seven miles of paved roads (primarily at the beginning of the race) and 19 miles of ‘quiet, unpaved country roads that pass through dense forests and open fields’ which ‘provide for some outstanding views of the (Blue Ridge) Mountains’ (according to the very capable Race Director, David Lee of the Brown Mountain Running Club).

The marathon reminded me of another of my favorite events, the St. George Marathon in St. George, Utah. The similarities between the Ridge to Bridge Marathon (R2BM) and the St. George Marathon are many:

•   Both races have limited fields: St. George due to the limited availability of lodging in the area, and R2BM due to the permit limitations on the number of participants using the roads and trails.

•   Both races have a significant elevation drop from start to finish: St. George is 2,560 feet and R2BM is 2,661 feet.

•   Both races feature point-to-point courses: For both events, bus transportation for runners from the finish area to the starting line is provided. St. George offers bonfires for the runners to stay warm before the start of the race; R2BM offers a small country store in which to stay warm before the start.

•   Both races are extremely well organized: It’s hard to find fault with the ‘choreography’ of either of these runner-friendly events. Both are highly recommended and a testament to the dedication and talent of the two race directors, their staffs, and the volunteers.

•   Both events are held in October: St. George on the first Saturday in October and R2BM on the 4th Saturday of the month.

•   Both events feature breathtaking scenery.

I ran my first St. George in 1994 at the age of 39. I took full advantage of the drop in elevation to match my personal best of 2:48 (which I had run seven years prior). I ran my first R2BM this year at the age of 54.

As the first six miles are on paved country roads, I bided my time until I hit the extremely downhill stretch between miles six and 16. In fact, I ran my two fastest back-to-back miles in a marathon in quite a while over miles eight and nine (7:38 and 7:41, respectively). I flashed back to St. George 1994 when I ran my two fastest back-to-back miles in a marathon ever in 5:54 and 5:57 (I’m fairly certain they were the only sub-six minute miles I’d ever run in a marathon, to be quite honest). Gee, things sure can change in 15 years …

I reached the half-marathon split in 1:44 but was beginning to feel some serious pain in my L-5, and I could only imagine how the last 10 miles of the marathon would be once the dramatic downhill stretch of the course was behind me.

In all fairness to the R2BM, the last 10 miles of the course are downhill as well, just not nearly as steep as the previous 10 miles had been. For me feeling the ill-effects of a bruised L-5, the last 10 miles of the event felt uphill. I stumbled my way to a 2:11 second half for a finishing time of 3:55, which gave me a respectable 103rd place finish in a field featuring 257 official finishers.

Afterwards, runners were treated to delicious barbecue, pizza, and some absolutely scrumptious blackberry and peach cobbler. Did I mention the blackberry cobbler was particularly to-die-for?

As I think back to two weeks before the R2BM, I received last-minute instructions from the R2BM Race Director which ended with the sentence ‘We aim to please.’ If you haven’t heard it from anyone else already, David, let me be the first to tell you:

Your aim was absolutely on target.

After the race Scott and his wife Cindy returned to their hotel in Morganton where they were greeted by the sweetest kitten you’d ever want to have brush across your shin. They decided to let her spend the night with them in their hotel room where she joined them as they watched their beloved Florida Gators beat Mississippi State. They took ‘Morgan’ back to Peachtree City with them while assuring one another they would find her a suitable home…knowing full well once Cindy named her she wasn’t going anywhere.

If ever a kitten graduated from charm school, her name is Morgan.

47 is the new 27

The 2010 Heart of America Marathon

By Dann Fisher

An office covered in mold turned me into a workplace refugee. My encounter with the mold, however brief, had set off an interstitial cystitis (IC) flare up. My glutes and low back were amazingly tight. My groin spasmed when I ran hard. The ragweed pollen had my head throbbing. As I drove to Columbia for the Heart of America marathon, I could not envision running well. Hell, I was just having trouble staying awake despite all the traffic. I had been trying to find spare minutes to tile my bathroom (my wife, Shannon, and I each have our own, which I believe is one of the keys to a long and happy marriage). That it had been out of order for so long had added to my gypsy feelings. I was trying to work out of my office at home, but I made the mistake of recently switching to Cox Cable and a modem that dropped me at regular intervals. A switch back to DSL was coming, but not until September 21. At this point, I was exhausted and really didn’t care if I ran well. I was just glad to be out of Manhattan, Kansas for a few hours and headed for the relative quiet of a nice hotel room.

Fortunately, a good night’s rest gave me a little perspective and a little more energy. I awoke at 4 a.m., ate breakfast, and took a short run around the University of Missouri campus. I was, however, amazingly stiff. My glutes were so tight that my hamstrings felt about two inches long. My lower back ached. My calves felt frighteningly tight as well. As I stumbled back up the stairs to my room to stretch, I contemplated going back to bed. I sprawled out on the floor, closed my eyes, and visualized running well. I worked at pushing out all the negative thoughts and bringing in positive ones. My training had gone really well, and I felt like I was in decent shape. But the difficulties of the summer and especially those of the past two weeks had me mentally weak. I realized that if I were to run well, I’d have to get my mind back to a better spot. By the time I left for the starting line, I had a better outlook, but I was only slightly less brittle. As much as I hate such sayings, I found myself thinking ‘Today 47 isn’t the new 27, it’s the new 67.’

The Heart of America Marathon starts at 6 a.m. in front of Hearnes Center next to the football stadium. The early start is designed to beat the heat, but the temperature was actually cool, around 60 degrees, and the humidity was low, a rarity for a Missouri Labor Day. The early start, however, meant that we had to navigate oncoming traffic in the dark. A couple of blocks after the start, we turned left at the stadium and headed south into the wind, noticeable, but not Kansas-strength ‘breeze.’

I made introductions with a couple of runners at the front of the pack. As we started up a long hill just before two miles, I let them go. I was struggling to find a pace. My legs felt dead. My groin was tight. I was having trouble pushing up the hill, so I put my head down for a few strides. I looked up just in time to see an SUV swerve over onto the shoulder of the road where we were running and collide with one of the lead bikers. He went flying toward the ditch, and I could hear the grinding of metal as the bicycle was compacted under the weight of the vehicle. The driver nearly lost control. The tires screamed as he jerked the SUV violently back to the left, then overcorrected again, and steered back toward the runners, scattering us into the ditch. He finally regained control and sped away. I stopped briefly to see if the biker was okay. He was up and walking around, but seemed badly shaken. I noticed that his shoe was resting in the middle of bicycle carnage. The other biker directed me to go on and was in the process of calling 911. I heard later that the driver had been found and his story was that we were all out in the road, not on the shoulder. Sorry pal, we gotta whole lot of witnesses that would testify otherwise!

The incident was very unsettling, so it took me a while to re-establish my pace. I wanted to average sub-20:00 for each three-mile segment. The course breaks down well that way because of how the multitudes of hills are placed. I didn’t reach three miles until almost 21 minutes. The start of the race had mirrored my life of late - chaos, drama, and distractions. Luckily, miles three to six are a steady downhill, so I hammered the pace, catching the two lead runners somewhere around five miles. I had to pass quickly in order to move to the side of the road to avoid an oncoming car. The driver was staring at us, but not moving over, so I pointed demonstratively to the other lane with my right hand. As she passed, one of the other runners remarked that she didn’t get my intentions, noting that she waved as she went by. ‘So far, I am waving with all my fingers too, but if this keeps up, I’m going to be using only one,’ I replied, bringing laughter from the rear.

Kevin Lambert, a 26-year-old making his marathon debut, covered my move and off we went. Mile six went by in 6:08, causing Kevin to express concern that it was too fast. I informed him that the best way to run this course is to go down fast to make up for the slowness going up. From about mile seven until just before mile nine is a steady climb. We reached mile nine in slightly over an hour, so I felt relieved to be getting closer to my desired pacing. Still, I found that I was not climbing well, experiencing tightness in my glutes and lower back, all signs of the IC flare up that I had been experiencing. Trying to keep positive thoughts, I decided to be happy that at least I didn’t need to stop to pee, which would cost me more time.

From mile nine to mile 12 the course drops precipitously to the Missouri River and the KATY trail. I told Kevin that if we ran hard through this section, then we would break from the field for good, which turned out to be the case. The road turns to gravel shortly after mile nine. As I was flying down the hill I hit a rock under my right foot and felt my big toe pop. I have had lots of problems with this toe in the past couple of years, and it had been very sore in recent weeks, but had been feeling okay today … until now! I hobbled badly for a couple of steps. As I pushed on, the pain didn’t go away, but relented back to the levels that I had been dealing with most of the summer; a level that I had learned to ignore.

As we worked our way down the short KATY trail section next to the Missouri River, I felt exhausted. I was having trouble breathing, my legs felt dead, and my stride seemed short. We passed 12 miles in just over 1:20. I was relieved to at least be holding pace, even if I was struggling to do so.

According to plan, I decided at the base of Easley Hill, the steepest climb on the course, to discard the water bottle containing eLoad that I was carrying. After doing so I realized that my right arm was tingling. Only then did I realize that I had been squeezing hard on the bottle since I witnessed the near-death experience of the lead biker.

As we plowed up Easley Hill, Kevin pushed ahead of me. I felt like I had slowed to a crawl, and was dismayed at how poorly I was climbing. As we neared the top, I was breathing erratically, and about to pass out. Given that my nose was running faster than my legs at this point, I was left to conclude that the ragweed was a big factor in how I was feeling.

Just beyond the crest of the hill I passed halfway in 1:27:30. I had set as a goal to run under 2:55:02, the course record for a 47-year-old, so this split had me shaking my head. With rolling hills and a couple of major climbs left, I would need to run negative splits if that goal was to be achieved. Through the years, negative splits for runners toward the front of the race have been tough