I feel pretty blessed to be in the middle of this Operation Jack journey. It’s extremely exhausting, but I have a good chance at making a difference, and there’s really no better feeling. It’s nice to run fast, but it’s even nicer to not run fast and have a day like I did on Saturday in Olathe, Kan.

For those of you who don’t know, I’m a marathon runner and a father of three and my middle child, 6 1/2-year-old Jack, is severely autistic. I’m trying to run 60 marathons this year to raise awareness and money for Train 4 Autism, a great charity I’m a part of. I named my endeavor Operation Jack after my little superstar. Today was race 17, the Olathe Marathon.

My plan going in was pretty simple. I wanted to run miles at around a 7:15 pace, stay as consistent as possible and hang on for dear life. That pace is not beyond my ability. But I’ve reached a point where my body is a little angry with this 60-marathon attempt, so I’m trying to find ways to get as much out of myself as possible.

I really enjoyed the course in Olathe. I’m biased, because I love Kansas back from the days I used to live there, but it was exactly what you’d expect running a marathon in the Heartland. We ran by a mall, through some nice neighborhoods and some older neighborhoods, past schools and parks and churches, then spent 10 miles running on an asphalt path through a wooded park area. I got to run about 1/4 mile from the first apartment I lived in with Tiffany after we got married.

For me, it was a dream course. For most other people, I’d call it a nice run, but I wouldn’t necessarily recommend making it a destination race. It’s a small, local marathon with a fair amount of charm.

Anyways, I fought a little in the first mile or so trying to get into a groove. My heart rate monitor was inaccurate and I was trying to find a steady rhythm. I did, and I felt pretty comfortable with how I was running by the second mile. I started to feel a little bit of pain in my hamstrings by around 6, but nothing significant. I was ticking off miles at a pretty good rate and felt pretty comfortable with how my day was unfolding.

I really just wanted to end up with a 3:15 or better and get my first BQ in a month, but my stretch goal was to run a consistent race and get a sub-3:10 and pick up the confidence that brings. I didn’t hit the greatest tangents early and I could tell I was making the race longer than I needed it to be. My average pace was something like 7:13 at the half, but my time was right around 1:35:30.

I kept trucking along, but somewhere around 18 or 20 or so, I could tell that I had nothing left physically. I had no push and I had no power in my stride. My miles had been floating between 7:15 and 7:30 and they seemingly instantly dropped to the 8:00 – 8:30 range. Faster than a tortoise, but I knew it was the beginning of the end.

I started to feel hungry and I could tell I was getting dehydrated. I was thirstier than I normally am and my mouth felt pretty dry. There was no remarkable kick or late surge or anything like that. I think I stepped it up a tiny bit in the final mile, but it was nothing great.

I finished in 3:19:05, good for 29th overall, 6th in my age group. Not a terrible run and nothing I’m going to lose sleep over. Just something I’ll learn from as I continue to try to improve my nutrition.

One cool thing about the race was a buddy of mine from college named Dan Merker who ran the half-marathon sporting his Operation Jack tech shirt. It was only his second time running the 13.1 distance and he nailed his sub-2 goal. He knew me back in the day when I was the last person you’d expect to run 60 miles in a year, let alone 60 marathons in a year. I think I’ve had some impact on him taking up running, so it was pretty cool to be out there at race with him.

Also, the Kansas City Star ran an article about Operation Jack the day before the race, and a man named Tony Rezek saw the article. I ended up meeting up with him during lunch after the race and he’s going to start a new Train 4 Autism chapter!

So what can I say? I didn’t hit my time, but I don’t care. This was a successful race because of Dan and Tony. And I got to run 26.2 miles through a beautiful course in Kansas. Does it get any better than that?

17 down, 43 to go!

Sometimes, a marathon finishing time isn’t particularly significant in the grand scheme of things. My result in Saturday’s Train 4 Autism Marathon Series Race No. 1 was one of those instances. I ran miserably, finishing in 3:23:56, but I had a great time at the race.

When I mapped out the schedule for 2010, Easter Weekend looked like a challenge. There were very few races on the schedule, mostly trail races and mostly far away. My wife puts on a big family dinner every year for Easter and I don’t want to leave her all alone, nor do I want to miss the dinner! So, I worked with local race promoter Charlie Alewine to put on the first of a series of three races.

The races are small and low-key and we called them the Train 4 Autism Marathon Series. It was awesome to see the T4A name on a race! The race wouldn’t have happened if not for Operation Jack,, I had a fair amount of running friends turn out just to run the race to support us. It was an absolutely incredible feeling.

I get shy about compliments — I always feel undeserving because I know I’m a flawed person just like everybody else. But it’s nice to get positive feedback, because I know it’s an indicator that people believe in what I’m trying to accomplish. And I have to say, it’s pretty strong feedback when somebody drives out to run in your race!

Anyways, the race. It was 10 loops around a 2.62-mile course. I started off a tiny bit too fast by pace, but my heart rate was OK. I think I was holding a fairly decent pace early on, although there a couple of spots where my heart rate jumped. I was a little concerned that I would bomb late, but I wasn’t tremendously worried. I ran a fair amount of the first half with four runner friends of mine — Jeff Cate, Zach Earl, Tracy Bowling and Peggy Kern. They all ran the half marathon, so I was on my own for quite a while.

I hit the half somewhere a touch quicker than 1:38 and felt OK. I didn’t feel like I was on the verge of falling apart. But I was! At about mile 18, I dropped off pretty badly. I slowed down about 30 seconds to a minute per mile. I kept repeating one thing to myself over those final eight miles or so: “My body HATES me!” I think I’m going to go through various phases this year. Right now, I’m struggling. Fatigue is setting in pretty nicely. I don’t think my body is very happy with what I’m doing to it!

From about 21 on, I really wanted the race to end. I felt like a truck had run me over. I never really had the energy to step it up at the end and kick. I slowed down until the end and finished up with a 3:23:56. The bright side of the small race is that I came in first overall. But it was a tough run. Still, it was pretty cool to earn a trophy and a medal that said “Train 4 Autism” and it was great to see so many people hanging out at the finish. Am I a jerk for winning my own race?

I didn’t have an amazing run. But I had an amazing day. I’m totally content with how this one turned out. I’m a lucky, lucky guy.

Run enough marathons and you’ll have some pretty good days. On the flip side of that, though, you’ll have some pretty tough days, too, like I did Sunday in the Knoxville Marathon. With full respect to the 26.2-mile distance, every one of my 43 marathons have been tough. Sunday was just a little bit tougher.

I headed into the race feeling pretty good. I’d been running hard during my training runs this week and I was ready for a good day. The course profile indicated a hilly, challenging course, but I wasn’t at all concerned. I had a ton of confidence heading in and I thought I’d be able to handle the hills pretty well. Boy, was I wrong. I might need a few days to fully reflect on this one, but I really think this was the toughest road course I’ve ever run.

The course itself was really nice. Very scenic (keyword for hilly?) and it wasn’t too crowded. The volunteers did a great job. I guess you’d probably expect that in the hometown of the University of Tennessee Volunteers, huh? I felt unusually tired this morning, despite getting 6 1/2 hours of sleep last night and 7 1/2 the night before (probably a record for me this year in the two nights prior to a marathon). I never really woke up too well before the 7:30 a.m. start (Eastern time), but I figured I’d snap into it once the gun went off.

We shot off straight up a hill, not a great way to get rolling in a marathon. I’ve been tinkering with my racing strategy, mixing it up between going by pace and heart rate. Early on this year, I went pretty fast by heart rate early, but struggled late in the races. I switched it up by trying to get myself into a groove during the first three miles and then monitoring by pace and heart rate, adjusting on the fly depending on how I felt.

Well, the reason I think this course was the toughest road course I’ve ever run is because with the mix of the climbs and the descents in the first half, it was absolutely impossible to get into a groove. The course really chewed me pretty nicely while I failed to find any kind of consistency.

Early on, the course was nice, running through the campus of the University of Tennessee, then through the town a little bit before turning into a very nice neighborhood. I really love seeing different communities during my races, and today was no different. Physically, I felt a little bit of a burn in my calves early, but that’s standard. Normally, I’m pretty warm by about four miles in and I lock into a zone.

I felt fine early enough, but since I couldn’t get any momentum, the race turned into a battle way earlier than I wanted it too. I knew there were some climbs late. I was mentally prepared to rough it out over the last hour. But not for the last 2 1/2 hours. To complicate things, I started to feel sick about five miles in. I really thought I was going to throw up. I have a Powerbar 15 minutes before the start of each race, but today, it wasn’t sitting well. I battled nausea until about mile 12.

I hit the half in about 1:38, knowing I was already off pace for a BQ. I figured I might be able to negative split the course, but I was starting to feel pretty beat up by then. My nausea went away, which allowed me to really notice the fatigue.

Still, at least the run was really nice. We spent about three miles in a wooded park, ran near a river, then headed through some parts of town that weren’t too nice. They weren’t totally ghetto, but I always like seeing all types of living on my runs. I think it’s interesting to see different lifestyles, and it makes me pretty grateful for everything I have.

As we started to creep up in the high teens, I knew I was probably looking at a 3:20 or so. My miles were creeping up a lot closer towards 8:00 and I didn’t have a whole lot. I was fatiguing pretty nicely and was really looking forward to the race ending. I don’t normally get like that until 4 or 5 miles later in the race.

We ran over a bridge, alongside a river, through a neighborhood, then back towards the campus. We ran through the downtown area, which was one of the coolest downtowns I’ve ever seen. It was big enough that you could tell there was plenty of activity there, but at the same time, it had a little bit of a small-town feel to it. Knoxville was a great city to run through. I really enjoyed it.

Heading for home, I was looking pretty closely at my watch, because I thought I needed about a 6:45 final mile to come in sub-3:20. I’d been watching my Garmin and it looked like I was going to end up running 26.35 with the tangents. I hit a pretty good pace at the end and probably covered that last mile in that time (mile 26 was 6:52 and the last bit to the finish was at a 6:18 pace), but I ended up running 26.4 and I had 3:20:27 on my Garmin.

The finish was pretty cool — it was the 50-yard line in Neyland Stadium, where the Volunteers play! The stadium seats 107,000 people, although only a few hundred were in there. Maybe a thousand? It was pretty sweet to look around and think about all the big-time players who have played in there. Peyton Manning … that’s enough, huh?

So, it was a tough course. I didn’t feel totally up to par (I don’t feel up to par at all this year, but I was even worse than normal) and I went 3:20. I guess nothing to really complain about. Thrilled about my time? No. But it’s not going to bug me on my flight home. And of course, I get another crack at it next weekend!

I’m actually 25 percent done with Operation Jack now. I guess that means I’m 75 percent not done! 15 down, 45 to go!

I get a lot of positive feedback on Operation Jack, but I try to deflect compliments, because I have a tough time really believing that I’m worthy of them. All I’m really doing is taking advantage of a gift I’ve been given — big deal! But when I receive cards like the one I received from a runner named Ryan Conrad on Saturday night, I know I’ve made the right decision to attempt this. And I know I made the right decision to run Sunday’s Shamrock Marathon in his city, Virginia Beach.

I won’t get into too many details of his card, but he so totally believes in what I’m doing that he dedicated his race Sunday, only his second marathon, to Jack. That’s the kind of stuff that can almost make a grown man cry. I said almost, because I didn’t. And I said almost because it was almost. Nevertheless, I was pretty excited to run Virginia Beach on Sunday. I liked the course profile and I was expecting a big day.

I arrived at the start in plenty of time and was interviewed by a reporter from the daily paper in Virginia Beach for a story that’s running Monday (yeah!). After that, I headed over to the start to find Ryan. We caught up about 10 minutes before the gun and I wished him well. I went up near the 3:10 pacers, because I thought I could go somewhere around 3:07 or so.

I want to give a quick rundown on the course, because I really, really liked it. I’m seeing a lot of them, so it’s getting easier to make comparisons. This one had a little bit of everything. We ran in the city, along the boardwalk by the beach, through wooded areas, into neighborhoods, onto military bases, past lighthouses and through what I believe was some kind of nature preserve. There was a little bit of everything, the volunteers and organization seemed great and I’m really glad I ran this race. It’s one that’s going to be tough for me to get to again, just because it’s so far away, but it’s a race I’d definitely recommend.

Anyways, the race … I decided about two minutes before the race to go with a similar strategy that I had at Napa a couple of weeks ago. I was going to try for a sub-3 again (6:52 pace), but instead of waiting six miles to back off if it wasn’t there, I was only giving myself two miles this time and then I’d immediately drop into running between a 7:05 and 7:10 pace. The first two miles were pretty good and I was holding up, but I wasn’t feeling it and I backed off a bit. I just had a feeling I was better off easing up a bit.

Unlike Napa, where I waited until mile six before falling apart and struggling to find any kind of rhythm, I got into a pretty good groove and started ticking off miles the way I wanted to. I don’t specifically remember my times, but I was watching and I really thought I was in line for somewhere in between a 3:05 and 3:10. Probably in that 3:08 range, depending on how well I kicked.

I felt fairly strong, although not too fast, but I was comfortable with my strength and consistency. I had no cause for alarm. I got a nice little boost at about mile 12. I was just moving along, running my race, when a runner named Shawn came up next to me out of nowhere. Apparently, he had sprinted up from the 3:10 group just to chat with me for a minute. He told me he followed my blog online and was really excited about what I’m doing. I don’t think words can really explain how cool it is to hear something like that! It didn’t almost make me cry, but it was pretty cool! I’m not the greatest talker during a race, but I basically told him thanks and told him to drop me a line.

That gave me a huge boost. Somebody I didn’t even know and wasn’t expecting to see sought me out and had nice things to say! I was on cloud nine! And then about four miles later, I crashed down to earth.

On Saturday, I caught a red-eye out to Virginia and didn’t make time for breakfast or lunch. Mile 16 is where I ran out of gas on Sunday. I had been running consistently in the 7:10 range, and I dropped off instantly to slower than an 8:00/mile pace. I was actually pretty close to 8:30 or so. My 3:08 disappeared in a hurry. So did 3:10. I was hoping I could pull it together for a 3:15 and still get another Boston qualifier, but I had nothing. It started getting warm (it had to have been in the 70s when I finished) and I actually started feeling faint. I knew this was an epic bonk, and I wasn’t liking it. Lesson learned — my body needs food!

I started slipping towards a 3:18 or 3:19, and tried as hard as I could to stay under 3:20. I knew I was going to be tight and it all depended on how well I had run the tangents. The mile markers seemed a tiny bit inconsistent to me, so I wasn’t sure how far I really had to go. We made the final turn onto the boardwalk and I could see the finish line up ahead. I didn’t know how far it was, but it was roughly half a mile and I was at 3:17.

I powered with everything I had, but I was cramping in both of my calves. I NEVER cramp during races, so this was a first. I altered my stride a little bit to be careful, and I did all I could, but it wasn’t enough. I went 3:20:23. Definitely a disappointing day. I gave it all I had, but I didn’t have enough and I can blame myself for that.

Ryan finished two minutes behind me, an 18-minute PR! It was good to see him at the finish and we hung out for a bit. I struggled to get on track physically. I was thisclose to going to the med tent because I felt pretty faint. I tried and failed to eat a banana, but a bag of pretzels did the trick and I got my bearings back after about 20 minutes.

All-in-all, it was a beautiful course and a nice race. I just blew it with my nutrition on Saturday. I wasn’t particularly well-rested, but I’m getting used to that and I don’t think that was a factor. The Los Angeles Marathon was also on Sunday, and I committed to Virginia Beach before LA locked in its date, but I’m definitely glad it worked out this way. I met some good people and I think Operation Jack and Train 4 Autism are better off with me hitting this one.

14 down, 46 to go!

I’m a superstitious guy, especially with the number 13. I might never have that fear again though, with the way my 13th Operation Jack marathon of the year went Saturday in Catalina.

Before the start of the race, I met up with two Operation Jacksters, Jake Rome and Ally Phillips. They were both sporting their Operation Jack tech shirts and it was great to see them. They’ve both been really supportive of what I’m doing and it was awesome to see them sporting the logo!

The race started and we got rolling and my gameplan was to keep it fairly conservative, pushing hard but not killing myself on the hills. I knew they were coming immediately, with a good 1,000 feet of climbing within the first 2 1/2 miles or so. Pace didn’t matter. I knew that if I kept it under control, my time would take care of itself. But I couldn’t truly worry about my splits.

On the hills, walking is typical. For somebody with my ability, and really for anybody this side of Superman, it’s really not possible to run the entire way up. So on the big uphills, my strategy was to run until my heart rate reached 174, then power walk until it dropped to 165, then repeat. I’ve run two trail ultras before and it’s easy to start walking, but it takes some willpower to start running again. I put the willpower in the hands of my heart-rate monitor.

On the downhills, my goal was to run as fast as I could without falling. It’s tricky footing to go down a very steep dirt path covered with small rocks and pebbles when you’re used to fairly smooth roads. But if you’re going to lose time on the uphills, you still need to make it up on the downhills.

That all being said, I kept in under control early, getting my legs rolling but not really attacking. I took that first bit easy as we headed into the climb, then stayed true to my heart-rate strategy. I was pleasantly surprised with how I hit that first hill, although I didn’t get down the first descent as well as I would have liked.

The scenery for the course as amazing. Catalina is an island 26 miles off the coast of Southern California. There’s nothing but plush green hills and canyons and undeveloped land. It’s essentially the way it was created. The climbs weren’t much fun, but the simultaneous views of the canyons, hills and ocean made it worth the effort.

I struggled to find a rhythm early, battling the uphills and downhills and trying to find a groove. I was hoping to run about a 3:40 to 3:45 and definitely below a 4:00, but those were just guesses for my ability based on what I’d heard from other runners on the course. I knew that to do that, I needed my average pace to be considerably below 9:00/mile, but my average pace was hovering around 9:10. I didn’t worry, though. I knew that all I could do was do my best to run as well as I could and my time would be whatever it was.

Just to reiterate, though, the views were amazing. I’ve now run 41 marathons and two ultras and this one was absolutely the most scenic course I’ve been on.

Moving along, though, from about 6 to 10, I was physically struggling a bit. The trails aren’t really my thing and I’m not that fresh. I was passing people, but I was also getting passed by quite a few. Finally, at about mile 11, I passed a woman, who then passed me back a minute or two later. I told her, “leapfrog!” as a joke, and she laughed. I passed her back and told her, “you’re it!” and she laughed at my second bad joke in as many minutes.

A few minutes later, I could hear a spectator tell her she was the third-place woman. By the time we were at 12, I heard her footsteps getting pretty loud and I found a gear and started pushing, trying to pull her along. But she didn’t have it. From there, it was a long, gradual uphill climb. We went up 1,000 feet over the next eight miles with only one tough stretch of about 1/2 mile. around 17 1/2. I hit the half in 1:59, not sure if I’d get sub-4.

But on that gradual uphill, it seemed like I was consistently turning miles in the low 8s. I felt like I was in a zone and I was getting stronger. From the time I pulled away from that third-place woman, not a single person passed me the rest of the race that I didn’t eventually pass back. My confidence really started to grow with the way I was picking people off, because I knew I was running a good race.

I have to give a quick shout-out to the mile 18 marker. I’ve never seen such an amazing view during a race in my life than from there. Green mountains everywhere, and an incredible view of the ocean. My body was pretty beat up, but it was worth it. I felt pretty blessed to have the ability to enjoy that.

So moving along, I knew there was a big downhill finish, but I didn’t remember where. We had rolling hills throughout the early 20s, and longer they continued, the more antsy I became. We were still hanging out at 1,500 feet and I knew we were headed for sea level. When we were still up there at 22, I knew it was going to be a crazy-steep drop. And sure enough, it was. The course got a little rocky (literally — rocks) and I was being as careful with my footing as possible. I wanted to make up some time, but not at the expense of a sprained ankle or a bloody tumble.

By about 24, we were onto pavement! THAT is my playground! And it was downhill, so I started flying. I got rolling, then really turned it on the last mile. I passed a guy who was moving pretty well and was just locked in. I averaged a 6:19 pace for the last mile, which is pretty good for me for mile 26 of a marathon. It felt good to move.

I finished at 3:48:42 and saw my beautiful wife there at finish line! It wasn’t a surprise, because we headed over to Catalina together the day before, but it sure was nice to see my biggest fan for the first time for an Operation Jack race!

I ended up taking third place in my age group. When I enter, I wasn’t sure whether or not I wanted to enter the Buffalo (200+ pounds) division or just run with the skinny kids, but I chose the skinny kids. I would have won the Buffalo division by 42 minutes, but I think I’m happier with the third place. For my prize, I earned a medal with a pink ribbon. I guess there’s a first time for everything.

We saw Ally finish a little later. She did pretty well considering her recent times and the difficulty of the course. Jake did OK, although he seems to really enjoy the run and the Catalina experience more than just going for a time. His brother went something like 3:35 to take second in his age group.

All-in-all, a great day on a great course. 13 down, 47 to go!