I headed into Friday’s Wishbone Run in Gig Harbor, Wash., knowing it wasn’t going to be an easy race for me. Granted, none of my 86 previous lifetime marathons and ultramarathons have ever been easy. But I figured this one would be unusually difficult. Sure enough, I ran my slowest-ever marathon, a 4:14.

Just in case you’ve never been here before, I’m a father of three and a marathon runner. My middle child, 7-year-old Jack, is severely autistic. I wanted to do something to try to make a difference in his honor, so I’m attempting to run 61 marathons in 2010 to raise money and awareness for a charity I’m a part of called Train 4 Autism. Friday’s race was No. 56 of the 61 — still on track!

The Wishbone Run is a small trail run with about 100 participants. It’s billed as a 27.4-mile trail race, four loops of a figure-8 style course. It was fairly cold, mid-30s to low 40s, and the footing was very difficult. Virtually the entire course was covered in snow, ice, mud and rocks. The course was a very pleasant run, though. Every step was in a plush forest.

We got going and spread out fairly quickly and I had all the space I needed within a 1/2 mile or so. Trail running is very different than road running. You have to work pretty hard to keep your balance because of the uneven footing. As a result, you’re using a lot of the muscles in your legs you don’t normally use and you felt pain differently and quickly.

Adding to the challenge was the mud and ice. The trail was slippery, plus at least a dozen times I ran across what I thought were going to be mud patches only to crash through ice into ankle-deep puddles of freezing water. I never lost my balance, but about seven or eight times I came pretty close to rolling my right ankle.

Within the first five or so miles, I knew my goal for the race would be to get through the course as quickly as possible while avoiding injury. I didn’t really have a time goal because you can’t compare a finishing time on a course like this to a road course. They’re completely different. You can strive to run your hardest and be competitive in the overall standings, though. I’m normally anywhere from top 2 to 5 percent in a road marathon if I run well, so in a trail race, I’d be content with top 10 percent.

I hit the first loop in about an hour, but the second loop was a different story. Since the course was a figure 8, there was an aid table in the middle. We hit it twice per lap. So, there were basically three segments per lap. After the second segment of the second lap, I got turned around and accidentally ran that second segment again. The segment accounted for about half of the lap, so running it twice put me at about 16 miles halfway through.

It was also a bummer, because that was the most challenging portion. There was a hill that gained about 150 feet over roughly 1/4 mile, so to run that twice in about three miles was frustrating, especially because the second time I ran in I realized I’d taken the wrong turn.

I knew on the third lap I could run just the first and third segment, and in doing so, I would have covered every step of the course exactly three times. I explained that to the guys counting laps and they were cool with that. So, I did that and was back on track with one lap to go.

I finished out the race, enjoying the scenery but struggling through a lot of pain. My legs were sore, my right knee flared up again, I was blistering and my back was hurting really bad. There were a few points where my lower back started to go and I was afraid I was going to fall over. I made it through, but there were a few hills that were at the perfect angle to really cause some problems.

I love to run, and I love challenges, but I was pretty glad when this one was over. It was a tough, tough day. I went 4:14:40, my slowest marathon ever. I’m not sure how long the course really was. It was billed at 27.4 miles and that’s what everybody seemed to have on their Garmins, but I only got 26.45. I know with 100 percent certainty I didn’t short the course a single step, so I’m thinking that maybe all the trees affected the reading?

I don’t know my overall finish position, but I think it was somewhere around fifth or so. To me, that was an indicator that it was not an easy run. I really banged myself up in this one. I have the worst blister I’ve ever had on my right big toe, my right knee hurts on the outside worse than it has all year and I scraped myself up a little bit from the branches. This one really did a number on me.

So there you have it, marathon No. 56 of Operation Jack is in the books. Only five to go! Next up, Memphis and Las Vegas next weekend!

As a runner, sometimes I wake up and feel great and can’t wait to get out for my run. I feel strong, I feel alive, and I’m ready to go. Sunday was the exact opposite of that. If there was ever a race I wished I could have ducked out of, it was Sunday’s Philadelphia Marathon. I was sick, I was tired, and I had 26.2 miles ahead of me.

Real quick, just in case you’ve never been here before, I’m a father of three and a marathon runner. My middle child, 7-year-old Jack, is severely autistic and I’m attempting to run 61 full marathons this year to raise money and awareness for a charity I’m a part of called Train 4 Autism. It’s my way of making lemonade out of lemons, of making sure my little guy has an impact on the world. I wouldn’t be doing this if not for him. Philadelphia was race No. 55 of the year. I’m almost there!

I had a few struggles heading into this race. Ever since I got home from San Antonio last weekend, I’ve felt sick. I had some headache and stomach problems last Sunday and Monday, then I developed a cold and a sore throat on Tuesday. When I went to the gym for easy runs on the treadmill, I got extremely winded, felt faint and had to stop.

I’ve been tired and chose to sleep instead of exercise in the morning. I’ve felt exhausted and miserable all week. On Friday, my flight out of Los Angeles was supposed to leave at 2:10 p.m., get me to Atlanta at 9:25 for a 35-minute layover, and I was going to land in Philadelphia at 11:57 p.m. I’d be asleep by 1 a.m., sleep in Saturday, and hopefully feel a little recharged.

Instead, my flight was delayed seven hours, becoming a redeye. I got three hours of bad sleep on the plane, landed in Atlanta at 4:15 a.m. for a 4 1/2-hour layover, then got into Philadelphia an hour before a lunch I had to get to. By mid-afternoon Saturday, I was exhausted to the point I could barely stand up or keep my eyes open. I took a nap for about two hours, but then had troubles falling asleep at night.

When I woke up for the race on Sunday, I was pretty exhausted, and that’s not the way to feel before running a marathon. I felt a little sick still, and I had zero desire to run. But I had to. So I did.

I was wearing pink arm warmers for the race. I made a commitment this week that I would wear them if y’all raised $1,000 for the Hearts & Smiles Foundation in Philadelphia. I tried for four weeks and only pulled in $240. But that arm warmer pledge netted $800 in 24 hours. Go figure.

I got to the start line five minutes before gun time, ready to go. My basic strategy was to run hard as long as I could, because I figured at some point my body would quit on me and I wanted to be as far through the course as possible. This marathon would simply be a matter of getting to the finish line as fast I could so I could stop. With my body in the condition it was in, I wasn’t going to attempt anything too strategic.

I got going and my legs actually felt pretty good. I suspected they would and I was moving well. I didn’t feel like I had the capacity to really go full-throttle, but I was hanging on at about a 7:05 pace early. I felt terrible, but I was moving well. I started to feel good at about mile five, but that only lasted for two miles. And then I felt sluggish again for the rest of the race.

I tried to pay attention to the course, because it was really nice running through the streets of Philadelphia, but I felt so miserable it was hard to focus. I could tell it was a course I would have really enjoyed if I felt better.

I went through the half somewhere around 1:37, which I was content with. At about mile 14, I saw Operation Jack super supporter Sarah Emerson, along with her husband and baby, and that put a big smile on my face. I’ve met a lot of people I really like this year and she’s way up there near the top of my list. I told her I felt like death. She told me I looked good in pink.

About a mile later, I heard two people running behind me talking and one of them said he lived in Los Angeles. When they caught up with me, I started chatting a bit. He saw my shirt and said, “Oh, Operation Jack — I’m thinking about running that marathon.” He didn’t know who I am, so it was pretty funny when I told him. We chatted for a couple of miles. He was looking to improve his PR of 3:29, and he was well on track to do that.

By about mile 17, I was running out of gas in a hurry and I told him, “I’ll see you later — this is where you leave me in the dust!” He ended up running a 3:12, so I was right and he had a great race. I faded, but not too bad. I think I was running miles in the 7:50 range. The second half of the race was mostly along a river and through a town that was on the outskirts of Philadelphia. It wasn’t anything spectacular, but it was a nice run.

I didn’t pay a ton of attention to my time. I just wanted to knock off the miles and get done with the run. I thought I was in line for somewhere around a 3:22, but I wasn’t really certain. I was slowing down and I felt miserable. There were a couple of spots late in the race where I heard some music playing along the course and I got pumped up and ran fairly quickly with relative ease. I had the confidence that I was strong, but I just didn’t have the energy to do much.

I decided to check my time with exactly two miles to go so I’d know where I stood. I was at 3:03:50. I really wanted to beat last week’s time of 3:17:59 to get faster for the fourth consecutive race, but that would basically require two 7-minute miles. I knew two 7:30s would give me a 3:18 and I would stay sub-3:20 with two 8s.

I kicked right then, knowing full well I was at risk of falling apart before I got to the finish, but I also knew that I had no other chance at a 3:17. I went hard and started passing a lot of people. My heart rate was at 181 bpm, roughly 10K pace, and I was moving. I was running, which felt good. I’m a runner, so it’s nice to move. But it also hurt. I felt miserable. I wasn’t sure if my body could handle two miles at that effort. I was locked in, although I kept my eyes open for Sarah, because I knew she was going to be somewhere around 25. I saw her, but all I really had the ability to do was point. I was in a zone.

I was counting down the fractions of that last mile, looking at my watch and knowing it would be close. When I passed 3:17, I was anxious to see the finish line. I knew I was going to do no worse than a 3:18. But I couldn’t see the finish line and the seconds were ticking away. Finally, we rounded one last curve, and there it was. I looked at my watch and I was pretty certain I had that 3:17. It’s tough to judge distances, though. I kept blazing and knew I had it about five seconds before I crossed the finish line.

3:17:45 is what I ran. Definitely not my fastest time. But I was happy with it. I improved 14 seconds over last week, and I was just not in shape to run. I won’t look back at this one as a great race, but I’ll look back at it as a good effort. I had to tough it out in Philadelphia. It was a challenging day for me physically, I tried hard to manage my body well, and I stepped up and went for broke when I had to.

So there you have it. 55 down, six little marathons to go. The Operation Jack train is getting pretty close to its final destination!

As I wind down Operation Jack, it’s easy to get excited and think, “I only have eight more marathons to go!” Well, except that eight more times this year, I still have to get up and run a marathon as fast as I can. I don’t care how many of them you run — they’re never easy. I stood at a marathon start line for the 54th time this year Sunday, knowing it was time to pound it as hard as I could for 26.2 miles. This time, it was the Rock ‘N Roll San Antonio Marathon.

Just in case you’ve never been here before, I’m a father of three and a marathon runner. My middle child, 7-year-old Jack, is severely autistic. I decided I wanted to make a difference in the autism world. My strength is in running multiple moderately decent marathons without much recovery, so I figured I’d try to run 61 marathons this year to raise money and awareness for a charity I’m a part of called Train 4 Autism.

Anyways, San Antonio. I have to give a little background. I had an extremely difficult September. Seven races, including two ultras — one the day after a marathon and one in 85-degree heat with 70 percent humidity six days after the previous one. One double, one triple. The five that “only” went 26.2 had an average starting elevation of 7,050 feet. So, I was pretty beat up after that.

I headed into October and ran a string of races that were fairly poor for my standards. 3:28 in St. Charles on October 3. 3:29 in Chicago on the 10th. 3:29 in Kansas City on the 16th followed by a 3:28 in Denver the next day. I was a 3:40 pace leader the subsequent weekend and after that, I decided I wanted to train harder and start getting my speed back down to where it should be.

I went 3:23 in the Marine Corps Marathon on Halloween Day. Last weekend, I went 3:19:36 in Fresno, Calif. So, for San Antonio, I wanted to continue to move in the right direction. It’s kind of tough to try to make speed gains heading into your 54th marathon of the year, but I figured I’d try. I listened to my body during the week, cut runs short when I needed to, and had a fairly decent track workout on Friday morning. Would that be enough?

We got going and I felt fine early on. Part of me wanted to lock into a conservative pace and try to hold it, but that idea lasted less than a mile. I ran by heart rate, doing everything I could to keep it dialed up. I can tell when I run by heart rate that my fitness is pretty good. I just don’t have a lot in my legs right now. Mentally, it’s a little tough right now. As excited as I am about getting through this, there’s not a lot of fun in it. I have to get out there and run. It’s work. A lot of the joy has disappeared. But I’m still competitive and even if I’m not having a ton of fun, I want to do my best. I expect nothing less.

I was turning out miles in the 7:00 – 7:10 range and it didn’t feel too fast. It just felt like a nice, solid run. I knew it wouldn’t hold, but I felt stronger than I have in a while. I expected to go through the half at around 3:10 pace, then fade somewhere midway through the second half. I just don’t have enough right now to put together 26 solid miles. Banking time isn’t the way to run a race if you’re ready for it, but for me, running hard while I can is important. That’s all I can do.

I went through the half in 1:35:36, about a 3:11 pace. I knew it wouldn’t hold and I didn’t have any good feeling about how bad I’d drop off. I think I stayed on about 3:12 pace until mile 15 or 16. I was thinking I might have a chance to run a 3:15, which would have made me pretty happy. That’s my Boston qualifying time, and I haven’t run one of those since August 29.

At mile 17.5, the drop-off I was expecting happened. I could tell that I was cooked for the day. My 7:15s and 7:20s turned into 8:00s. Nothing I could do but keep pushing along as hard as I could. As I always tell people, the faster you run, the sooner you’re done. We ran into a bit of a headwind quite a bit over the last 6 or 7 miles, so that made it a little tough.

I normally start doing math in my head at around mile 22 to figure out what my time will be depending on what I average. I didn’t do that, but I had a pretty good feeling I was looking at somewhere between 3:17 and 3:19. I finally did the math with two miles to go. There was about 3:03:50 gone at that point, so I knew that if I could average a 7:00 pace over the last two miles, I’d end up with a 3:17. 7:30s would net me a 3:18 and 8:00s would at least get me a sub-3:20.

I don’t like kicking for two miles, but I did. I felt pretty strong and I knew I was moving well. I got a charge from flying by the half marathoners on the left and I was cruising past folks who had passed me in the previous six or seven miles. When I hit one mile to go, I needed about a 7:00 mile to get that 3:17. I really, really wanted it. I don’t know why, but I just did.

I kept booking stayed as focused as I could on running fast. I was moving at about a 6:50 pace, which for me at this point in mile 26 of a marathon is pretty good. We went up a slight incline that slowed us down, then made a sharp right turn and headed for home. I could see it, and I was watching my time, and I knew I had zero time to spare.

I gave it everything I had, dropping my pace as low as 4:27. I crossed the finish line, hit my Garmin and saw 3:18:00, but you usually get one or two seconds on your chip time. All I needed was one, and that’s what I got. My official time was 3:17:59. It’s another step in the right direction. I’m not giving up on my sub-3 quest this year, even though I’m struggling right now. I’ll keep pushing and doing what I can to get a little better each week.

As for the course, I thought it was OK, nothing spectacular, but nothing terrible. We ran by the Alamo, went through some sections of town that weren’t too savory (which I always find interesting to see), we ran through a big cemetery, we hit some industrial sections and we went through what I think was the downtown section. The race went off well, the volunteers did a good job and I didn’t have any real complaints. Transportation from the parking area to and from the start/finish area went off very smoothly, which is unusual for a Rock ‘N Roll event. I’d consider it a decent race worth running.

And I guess that’s about it. 54 down, only SEVEN to go! Can you tell I’m excited?

For me, running a marathon on November 7 is a big deal. It was the day I broke my neck back in 1991, the day I wasn’t paralyzed, the day my legs were spared. I celebrate it as a birthday for my legs, so what better way to celebrate than to run a marathon?

Sunday’s race was the Eye Q Two Cities Marathon in Fresno, Calif. This was marathon No. 53 of the Operation Jack train. Just in case you’ve never been here before, I’m a father of three and a marathon runner. My middle child, 7-year-old Jack, is severely autistic and I want him to have an impact on the world. Because of what he goes through, I’m attempting to run 61 marathons in his honor to raise money and awareness for a charity I’m a part of called Train 4 Autism.

I felt decent heading into Sunday’s race. Not totally solid, but I’ve been getter as my challenging September becomes more of a distant memory. My legs are coming back a tiny bit, I’m doing some speedwork and mentally, I’m in a good place. I’m starting to get pretty excited.

I don’t really set A goals, B goals or C goals — I set A hopes, B hopes or C hopes. I always go as hard as I can. I just try to guess what I think I’m going to do and I hope I can maximize what I have in me. I felt like I had a good shot at being faster that last weekend’s 3:23 at the Marine Corps Marathon. I would have been thrilled with another Boston qualifier, 3:15:59, but I didn’t think I’d be able to go much faster than 3:20. I would have been pretty disappointed if I went slower than I did last week.

So there you have my A hope, B hope and C hope. Sub-3:20 is what I was really after. Before the race, I met up with somebody I met through Twitter named Megan, who was super nice and had a great run — 3:26 and second in her age group! I also met up with somebody named Kathy who I met through an online running community.

The coolest thing happened on my warmup run, though. I was running past three women and once I passed them, I heard one of them say, “Look, it’s that autism runner!” I turned and went back and said hello. Right before the start, I saw someone I met through Operation Jack named Linda and it was great to see her. Some folks I’ve met this year have been good to talk to about various non-Operation Jack stuff, and she’s one of them. It was great to see her, give her a hug and smile for a picture.

And then I was off. I felt fairly good early, jumping out a tiny bit quick but turning in miles in the 7:15 range early. I’m totally fine with doing that, even though I know I can’t run a 3:10 right now. I don’t fall apart after banking time. I just lose juice in my legs from a year’s worth of fatigue. It’s something you’d understand if you’ve run all-out in as many marathons as I have this year.

The course itself was pretty unremarkable. It seemed to be primarily on paved trails and alongside a park that looked like a nice area you’d hike in. There weren’t any eyesores, but I’ve seen a lot of courses this year and this one didn’t have a wow factor to me. It was a pretty flat, fast course, with only a couple of small hills and some very mild inclines and declines.

I could tell within about three miles that I didn’t have a ton of zip, but I felt like I had a fighting chance to run well if I was mentally willing to push. I started to slow down a tiny bit by mile seven, but I noticed my heart rate was low. I told myself to suck it up and I started moving more at the rate I’m capable of, around 6:45/mile. I was turning in mostly decent miles and hit the half in about 1:37.

I was doing OK for a little while in the second half, but I did my weekly fall-apart at about mile 18. My legs started getting pretty stiff and my pace was slipping. Mentally, I got kind of angry when the aid stations all started being out of Gatorade at mile 18. With the layout of the course, I didn’t come up to the very back of the half-marathon pack until about mile 19. So basically, it all went to them.

I don’t have a problem with half-marathoners getting Gatorade. I have a problem with race organizers not figuring out a way to make sure marathoners on a sub-3:20 pace get sports drink. I threw a little bit of a pity party for myself as I wrapped up the run.

I knew a 3:15 wasn’t happening, but I wanted to stay under 3:20. I knew it would be close and I knew with about 1.5 miles to go that I’d finish with either a 3:19 or a 3:20. With 1/2 mile to go, I knew I had it if I held on strong to the finish. I saw Linda holding up a sign and that sparked me on my final kick. I ran pretty hard and felt good to be running fast. It was probably about a 5K effort.

I crossed the finish line in 3:19:36, and was pretty happy with that. I’d score myself with about 18 B+ miles and 8 C- miles. Not a great run by any stretch of the imagination, but I’m content with my effort in my 53rd marathon of the year. I did what I’d hoped I’d be able to do, and I knocked another race off the schedule.

So there you have it, 53 down, only eight to go! I … can … do … this!

I’ve run a few patriotic races that I’ve really enjoyed this year. There was Oklahoma City in April, a tribute to the victims of the 1995 bombing. The there was Portland/Sauvie Island on July 4, a heck of a way to kick off Independence Day. Recently, I ran a 9-hour, 11-minute timed race on September 11 that was as American as apple pie. But Sunday’s Marine Corps Marathon in Arlington, Va., and Washington D.C. was as good as it gets.

As the Marine Corps Marathon, there’s a very strong military presence. Soldiers handed us our race bib at the expo. Soldiers manned the aid stations and handed us water and Powerade. Soldiers ran in the race. We start right alongside Arlington National Cemetery. It was pretty awesome.

I was walking up to the start line and I saw the start of the wheelchair race. There were two entrants who were obviously soldiers who had lost their legs. They both had 10 or so Marines running behind them. The amputees were young, maybe 22 at the oldest. There are no words to explain what it was like to see them wheeling by with their fellow Marines supporting them. I think I look up to soldiers more than just about anybody and I more-or-less felt undeserving to run in the same race as them.

But I did and I was excited about the course. I knew we’d run by Arlington, the National Mall, the Washington Monument, the Capitol Building and eventually finish by the Iwo Jima Memorial.

So yeah, my running, big deal. I headed into the race with pretty low expectations. I’ve run some tough courses lately and I’ve beat myself up, but I haven’t run a marathon quicker than 3:28 since September 4. I was hoping I could go better than 3:20, but realistically I knew I couldn’t expect much more out of myself than a 3:30. But really, I wasn’t too worried about it. I was out to give my best and enjoy everything the race stands for.

I felt OK early, ran hard and hit the half in 1:35. I knew I wouldn’t hold it. I wasn’t pushing too hard, but there’s not enough left in my legs right now to put together a solid 26.2 miles. I didn’t fear running too fast and gave it my all.

As I mentioned, the aid stations were manned by Marines. There were also some civilian volunteers, but I only took water and Powerade from the Marines. If you have an opportunity to have your heroes hand you drinks while you’re running a marathon, you don’t pass that up! I looked at all of them at every station and was wowed like I was by baseball players when I was a kid. Those are the bravest, toughest people in America and they’re willing to die so I can live the life I want to. I know it sounds corny, but I really have a huge amount of respect for them.

I slowed down after about mile 15. Not intentionally — my legs just refused to play along any more. I started to feel flare-ups in my right knee with the tendinitis and IT band problems I’ve had lately. No big deal. I’m used to running in pain. At around mile 18 or so, we ran right by the Capitol Building and it was pretty crazy to thing about the impact of all the business that gets taken care of in there. I don’t get into my own personal politics here, but realistically, everybody knows that building is going to get shaken up on Tuesday and it was eerie to run by it — the calm before the likely storm.

At about mile 24, we ran by the Pentagon. That was pretty wild, too. I looked at those windows and thought about the decisions that come of there. Those decisions are a lot more powerful and affect a lot more lives than any decision that’s ever come out of any building I’ll ever work at, that’s for sure. It also came to mind that a plane crashed down there on 9/11. I wasn’t sure exactly where, but I knew there was serious turmoil in that area that day. I’ll take a look online when I get a chance.

Ok, so I finished the race in 3:23:51. I’ll take it — it’s a step in the right direction for me. I stepped up my training a little bit this week with some hill work and track work and I’m optimistic I can continue to regain some speed if I keep working hard.

Enough about my running, though. When I finished the race, I looked up and was staring right at the Iwo Jima Memorial. A Marine with the last name Yatus put my medal around my neck, complete with “Oo-rah, congratulations Sir.” Pretty cool, but I felt pretty humble. Running 26.2 miles is no big deal, certainly nothing for a soldier to congratulate me for. But it was certainly a pretty cool cap to a great race.

I run a lot of marathons and hit some that are better than others. This one ranks right up there with the two other major marathons I’ve run this year, Boston and Chicago. It’s well worth running. I couldn’t imagine somebody not enjoying it.

And that’s pretty much it, I guess. Another marathon completed for Operation Jack. 52 down, only nine to go!