Serving as an official pace leader for a marathon is everything that Operation Jack stands for, all rolled into a marathon performance. It’s a tough, focused effort. It’s running to help others. It’s motivating people to push as hard as they can. It’s not worrying about my race time, because that’s not what matters. It’s staying focused on the finish line and getting there no matter what anybody else does. I led the 3:40 group at the Mankato (Minn.) Marathon Saturday, my fourth official pacing gig this year. For the fourth time, I had a blast.

I lined up the responsibility about three weeks ago and was pretty excited about it. It’s always fun to help people along, plus I knew it would be somewhat of a break for my legs. I know, for most people, running a 3:40 marathon doesn’t seem like a day off. But for me, it would be nice to not have to go full throttle.

The forecast was for rain, but that doesn’t faze me. I lined up in the start area and took a look around to see what kind of a group I had. I couldn’t really tell, because everything was so crowded, but I made small talk with those around me before we got going.

We started rolling and I locked into a pretty consistent groove within a mile or so. I wasn’t flawless, but I knew I was pretty good. I always want to be perfect, but as a human being, all I can do is try my best. Every time we passed a mile marker, I announced to my group how we were doing overall for the race. We were almost always within six or seven seconds of perfect — sometimes a touch fast, sometimes a touch slow, sometimes right on. But always very, very close. I knew the miles were good, my pace wasn’t varying and we were on target. I was pretty happy with that.

For most of the first half of the race, I had about 20 people fairly close to me. Different people would pop up and talk to me and then maybe move forward or fall back. I never missed an opportunity to talk about Operation Jack!

There were three moderate climbs and some gradual declines early, but I felt like I handled them well. We went through the half in 1:49:58. Half of 3:40 is 1:50, so that was pretty close to perfect. As the second half moved along, there was a long incline at around mile 15 or so that dropped some folks off the pace. I took that slow, but it was a little humid and I’m sure it was tough for runners pushing to run a 3:40. The sun started to come out at about mile 17 and it became tough to run.

We were on track through mile 21, with maybe 10 seconds in the bank for the race, but at that point I think the mile markers were off a little bit. When we hit 22, we were 14 seconds in the hole and I know we didn’t run an 8:47 mile. I absolutely did not want to finish slow, because I’m a moving target and if runners chose to kick at the end, I needed to be in the right place. If they finished ahead of me, they needed to be sub-3:40, period.

I ran the next mile a little quick, maybe at around 8:15 (pace needed to average 8:23), and we were about 12 seconds off. I knew I needed to run at about an 8:00 pace to get my target at the right pace. That was difficult to do, though. I know I’m a faster runner than that, but when you’re locked into a groove for 23 miles, it’s tough to step it up. For starters, I was fatigued. I am human, you know? Plus, with 23 miles of 8:23 muscle memory, it’s a tough push. And of course, my legs are dead from the 50 prior marathons I’ve run this year!

But I pushed to make sure I was in the right spot as a target. I closed to within maybe six or so seconds at mile 25 and kept moving. At mile 26, I was 19 seconds fast, but at this point, I’m not convinced the mile markers were in the right spot for those final four. I eased up to about an 8:30 pace for the final .2 miles, slightly off the 8:23 I needed. I ended up crossing the finish line in 3:39:53.

It was a tough run to manage. I stayed as consistent as I could and when I found out I was in a hole early, I tried to gradually move my target to get it in the right spot. Working with the mile markers, the course and the conditions, I feel confident that I did a good job. I was fast by less than 1/4 second per mile overall. Can’t really complain about that.

Overall, I thought the race was really nice. It was a first-time event, and for those, you never expect much. But I thought it was very well organized from start to finish. I was definitely impressed. It’s not a destination race, but it’s certainly a very nice, local marathon. I’ve run MUCH worse this year!

So, there you have it. Marathon No. 51 of Operation Jack is in the books. Only 10 more to go!

Another day, another marathon. In my case, that was the truth Sunday. After running the Kansas City Marathon the day before, I continued along the Operation Jack train with my 50th full marathon of the year, the Rock ‘N Roll Denver Marathon.

I didn’t expect a lot out myself heading into the race. My previous three races were 3:28, 3:29 and 3:29, plus this was the day after a 3:29 and it was up at altitude. I was a little bit afraid that I wouldn’t even have a 3:40 in me. I was really hoping to go sub-3:30. Realistically, I thought I was good for about a 3:36.

This was my 78th lifetime marathon, but I’m still getting the hang of these things. I never seem to pace them correctly, and while I try to alter my strategy to find the right recipe, I always seem to have problems. Today, I figured I’d go out conservatively, trying to run in the 7:30 range and adjust as the run went on.

It was weird starting out at that pace. Aside from when I’ve paced at slower rates, I’ve never set out intentionally holding the pace slower than a Boston qualifying speed. But I knew I needed to take care of myself and avoid blowing up. Long, slow death marches are no fun in marathons. I really didn’t want one of those in my second marathon of the weekend!

I got rolling and felt fairly OK. I started thinking about how I felt like I normally do and realized that my legs are completely fatigued right now whether or not I run a marathon the day before, so it was business as usual. I was a little cautious, however, because of the altitude.

Things were going fine and I enjoyed the early part of the course as we snaked through downtown Denver. I really didn’t struggle much. The course got a little boring as we started to go through a typical Rock ‘N Roll course. There were out and backs in industrial areas and we spent a fair amount of time snaking through a park to tick off miles.

At about mile 16, I started to have problems with my right knee. I’ve been experiencing some issues with my IT band in that area lately, and over the past couple of years, I’ve had tendinitis flare-ups. That tendinitis frequently surfaces when I run doubles, like I did this weekend, and a combination of those two conditions made my knee buckle sporadically over the final 10 miles.

I’d be running, and then all of a sudden, my knee would buckle and I’d have to stride with an exaggerated hop for 10 or so steps. When I dealt with that, my pace dropped. When I felt a little stronger, I did my best to push like I was kicking because I knew my knee would give at any time and I wanted to bank time while I could.

I was fairly disappointed with the race as it went along. I didn’t think that the course did much to highlight Denver (Rock ‘N Roll courses are good at being boring) and there weren’t as many bands out as there typically are for one of their events.

But the biggest problem I had with this course was that it was long. I’ve run 78 marathons now, so I know that the distance comes up long because of tangents. But I know when miles are long and there was one early in the race that was off (somewhere around 3 or 4, I don’t remember), and the “mile” between 23 and 24 was closer to 1.15 miles. We went up and back on a boring overpass and I’m completely convinced the turnaround was too far out.

I was ahead of the 3:30 pace, even looking close to a 3:27, but when I hit mile marker 24, I knew I was going to be getting a time for 26.4. I hate that and was pretty mad. But I kept on pushing and hopping, intent on going sub-3:30. I really wanted to be faster than my 3:29:38 from Kansas City on Saturday.

When I hit what I knew was 26.2, I was at 3:27:56. But I had to keep moving. I pushed up the last little bit to the finish, and crossed the mat 3:29:28 after I started, a 10-second improvement from Saturday. I was pretty happy with that. I don’t have a ton in me right now, but I know I gave it a good effort and I was happy about that.

So there you have it. I’ve now completed 50 full marathons this year. I like the look of that number. It looks kind of cool. And you know what I really like? Only 11 to go!

I continued the final stretch of Operation Jack Saturday in the Kansas City Marathon, completing my 49th 26.2-mile race of the year. As has been the case recently, I had no speed. But as has also been the case, I found plenty of positives to take with me.

A quick preface, just in case you’ve never been here. I’m a father of three and a marathon runner. My middle child, 7-year-old Jack, is severely autistic. I want to do something to make a difference and make things better for kids like him. So, I’m attempting to run 61 full marathons in 2011 to raise money and awareness for a charity I’m a part of called Train 4 Autism. I had run 48 prior to Saturday.

Kansas City is a special place for me. I went to college two hours west at Kansas State University. I spent time in Kansas City when I was a student, I have a lot of friends there, and that’s where Tiffany and I first lived when we got married in 1999. I always say that my home and my family are in California, but my heart is in Kansas City.

Whatever the case, the highlight of this marathon didn’t involve me, so I’ll just gloss over the run. I’m out of gas, I have no speed and the course is difficult. I ran a 3:04 on it two years ago, but Saturday I was only good for a 3:29. Dead legs. But I really enjoyed the run. I mean, it was Kansas City! Plus, my wife and oldest son, Benjamin, were there at the finish line waiting for me!

But enough about that. I have a friend from college named Dan Merker. Nice guy, and he’s been really supportive of what I’m doing this year. He knew me from back in the days when I weighed 250 pounds, drank 75 beers a week and smoked a pack a day. I’m pretty sure that when we were in college, I’m the last person he would expected to run a 5K, let alone a marathon.

Last year, when he saw how I was planning on running 61 marathons, he decided he’d spend a year training so he could run one of the races on my schedule. Kansas City was that race, of course. I rode up with him and was pretty excited for him. There’s nothing like the day you run your first marathon. You own that day and you’ll always look back on it with fondness. My day is June 4, 2006. I’ll never forget it. Saturday was Dan’s June 4, and I knew I inspired him to get out there and run the race. Do you know how awesome that is?

I answered a bunch of questions for him during the week and he seemed ready to go. He was chasing a 3:55 and I thought that was pretty reasonable based on what he told me about his training. We talked a little more before the race and I was a little concerned about some of his training. I knew there was a possibility that he would struggle late, but I had no doubt he’d finish the race.

The plan was to wait for him afterwards, but unfortunately, he did end up struggling late and I was on a tight timeline with a plane to catch. He ended up going 4:26, but he finished the race. It started getting pretty warm, so I know it got tough out there for him. Your time doesn’t matter in your first marathon. Finishing is what you need to do and he got it done. He’s a marathoner!

He gave me a call after the race and I congratulated him. I get excited when somebody finishes their first marathon, whether it’s in three hours, four hours, five hours or six hours. And it’s pretty cool to know that I got him into it. I don’t think marathoning is the be-all, end-all to anything, but I really, really like it when somebody gets into a fitness routine.

So I guess that’s my take on Kansas City. Memorable run for Dan. Not so much for me. But it was a good day and Operation Jack marches on.

49 down, only 12 to go!

Before running the Chicago Marathon, I suspected I’d run somewhere between a 3:05 and a 3:25. The course is flat and fast and I felt fairly decent. The night before, I called 3:14 as my best guess. I ended up crossing the finish line 3:29:27 after I went through the start, and for once, I’m not disappointed with the result.

I’ve been struggling mentally a little bit lately, but when I got to the race, I got pretty excited seeing all the charity runners. I’ve obviously become a charity runner this year and I really dig seeing others run marathons for a cause. There must have been 10,000 charity runners and I got pretty excited to run well when I saw them all.

Before the start, my legs felt a little bit tired because I was on my feet too much the day before, but they didn’t feel all that bad. At the start, I still had confidence I could push for a sub-3:15, and I thought I might be able to lock into a good groove and maybe even go for sub-3:10. We got rolling and I felt pretty good. The tall buildings were making the pace on my Garmin go a little wonky, and my heart rate monitor wasn’t working well between miles 6 and 16, so I went by feel for the most part.

Just to sum up the course, it’s a nice tour through lots of Chicago. Tall buildings everywhere. It enjoyed it as a run through a major city, but I found out afterwards that I missed a lot. I was paying attention to what I was running by, but I realized I spent more time looking at the spectators than the sights. There were loud fans covering about 90 percent of the course. But I missed a lot of the different parts of the city and I’m not sure how. Whatever the case, it’s a great course, and it’s definitely fast and flat.

Back to the running, I felt pretty consistent early and not too bad. I didn’t feel like I had any zip in my step, but I felt pretty good. I thought that since I’m two weeks removed from the Tahoe Triple, my legs would start recharging and get closer to where I want them to be. Last week was a difficult 3:28 for me — surely this would be a better day.

I slowed a touch, but nothing that concerned me. I went through the half at about 1:38 flat, which isn’t great, but still about halfway to a Boston qualifier — just one second off. I was faster through the half than I was in St. Charles last week. Plus, the second half of Chicago is easier than the second half of St. Charles. I had no concerns, but all of a sudden at about mile 16, my legs just quit on me. I could tell I was falling off in a hurry. I had been running in the 7:20 to 7:30 range without much problem, but all of a sudden I couldn’t get the pace down below 8:00.

I’ve been having this shutdown effect a lot lately. Mile 16, mile 18, whenever. My legs just quit on me. It’s not a problem with my training or my nutrition. It’s just an issue with fatigue. Imagine that — 48 marathons into the year and I’m getting fatigue! I saw some things along the course that inspired me, mainly religious signs and enthusiastic spectators. But I just couldn’t pick it up. I knew by mile 18 that it was going to be a progressive slowdown to the finish.

At around that point, there was an Elvis impersonator singing “My Way” and I instantly started thinking about this year as a whole. I’ve done this my way, the ways I thought would work best. Regrets, I’ve had a few. But then again, too few to mention. I haven’t always been right, but I’m pretty proud of how hard I’ve tried. About a mile later, there was a DJ blasting “Coming to America” by Neil Diamond. I’m probably the first person to have an emotional reaction to that song. I’ll admit it.

I don’t even really know the words to the song or what it’s about. But it made me think about something I’ve thought about all year. This is America, land of opportunity. Take a chance, take a risk, reap the rewards. Or fail, but at least fail trying. When I heard that song, it made me think about how I took a chance this year and risked failure. The chance I took was that I would willingly run my body into the ground, and the reward I sought was to raise money and awareness for Train 4 Autism.

Note: If you’ve never been here before, my 7-year-old son Jack is severely autistic and I’m trying to run 61 full marathons this year to raise money and awareness for Train 4 Autism. This was marathon No. 48 of the year.

I’ve raised the money and awareness, which was my goal. Have I been perfect? Of course not. But Train 4 Autism is in a better place because of what I’ve done. That’s what I set out to do. I vowed at the beginning of the year that as my part of the deal, I would run myself into the ground to get this done. At that moment, when I heard that song, if finally hit me. I have succeeded in running myself into the ground over the course of this long, tough year. In a weird way that only I can really understand, I’m really happy that I have nothing left.

I wanted to do this for Jack. I want to make the world a better place for kids with autism so he will have an impact on others. It took 47 marathons, two ultramarathons and 19 miles of marathon No. 48 for me to finally come to the conclusion that I have physically torn myself up as my way of fighting autism, the neurological disorder that has wrecked my 7-year-old’s childhood.

I started getting tears in my eyes as I thought about my cute little curly-haired boy, who might not have even known that I was out of town and who certainly doesn’t know that I run or that I’m doing Operation Jack. I set myself up with what I consider to be a pretty daunting task as one way of coping with Jack’s struggles, and I got it done, save the 13 marathons on the schedule the rest of the year.

I kept the tears from really flowing, but I started having breathing problems and was struggling for air. I was having a full-fledged emotional breakdown in the middle of a marathon. I was bound to have a moment like this. Thank you, Neil Diamond.

About a mile later, I saw Operation Jack supporters Adair, Jerry and Asia Renning. Asia is an adult and has autism and is also a distance runner. In fact, she ran her 100th distance race this year! She was excited to see me and I was looking forward to seeing them along the course. I’ve communicated a lot with Adair and Jerry over the past year and it was great to finally see them (even though it was kind of from a distance and I could barely see without my glasses).

Two miles past them, I saw Operation Jack supporter Jen Morgan, who has been super supportive of me since last year. I met her in Tampa and saw her again in Boston. It was great to see her once again. She was out there in her tutu and her Operation Jack shirt and I got a big grin out of that. It’s a pretty special feeling when people back you the way she has. I got a little teary-eyed again when I passed her. I guess I’m just an emotional train wreck over all of this right now.

Anyways, I struggled and struggled, trying to salvage my time, but failing miserably. With a mile to go, I needed to run a little better than 9:00 to stay under 3:30. I tried my best and pulled it off, going 3:29:27. Two months ago, I would have been pretty bummed. Today, I just don’t care. Like I’ve done all year, I went out, gave it my best, didn’t get all I’d hoped for, but finished what I started without any regrets about my effort.

I caught up with Adair, Jerry and Asia after the race and as I was telling them, I’m not proud about the number of marathons I’ve completed. My ability to run and recover is a gift from God. He gives the strength and ability to do everything I do. But I have the choice to use my gifts and work as hard as I can, and I’ve done that. That’s what I’m truly happy about. 48 marathons is trivial in my book.

So there you have it, my take on the Chicago Marathon. 48 marathons and a couple of ultras down. 13 victory laps to go!

Q: What do you get when you cross dead legs, an unmotivated runner and an unremarkable marathon course? A: My run at the Lewis & Clark Marathon in St. Charles, Mo. on Sunday.

Heading into the race, I felt fine physically, but I suspected my legs would be unresponsive after last weekend’s triple in Lake Tahoe. I’m normally sluggish the weekend following a double, so even though I was pain free, I had no reason to suspect I’d be sharp. I feel strong right now, but I don’t feel fast. The course profile looked easy, so I suspected I’d be good for a 3:18. For me, that’s not blazing fast by any stretch of the imagination, but I thought I could do that.

Unfortunately, I had a tough day on Saturday. Setbacks can bring me down, especially when they’re Operation Jack related, and I was in no mood to run. So, I couldn’t run, I didn’t want to run, and it showed.

I got rolling and kind of felt OK early, but I knew it wouldn’t last. My heart rate monitor isn’t working right, so I had no idea what kind of effort I was giving. I figured I’d try to give about a 7:15/mile effort and not push any harder. I know that’s a 3:10 pace, but I didn’t feel like that would burn me out. I figured it would be a reasonable effort and when my dead legs decided to fade, then I’d roll with it and not worry.

I don’t remember a ton of specifics about the race, other than I got gradually slower and slower. I knew early it was going to be a long day, but I didn’t even bother trying to do the math. I hit the half in about 1:40 and knew I’d be slower in the second half.

The course itself was a fairly easy course. There were a few moderate hills, but even if I had driven the course beforehand, it was nothing that would have fazed me. It’s a fast course on a good day, but it certainly wasn’t a good day for me. I got slower and slower, stiffer and stiffer. It was just a long day on a pretty boring course. Lots of strip malls and industrial parks. There was about eight miles on a trail, but overall, I really wouldn’t recommend this one unless you live in the area. It really doesn’t matter, though, because Competitor bought this race, turned it into Rock ‘N Roll St. Louis, and will move the course next year.

Anyways, I struggled to hold on to the 3:20s, resorted to a shuffle and just wanted the day to be done. A guy in red shorts passed me at about 24.5 and I had nothing for him. I tried to kick at about 25, but it hurt way too bad and I thought I was going to hurt myself. I did everything I can to increase my turnover and I probably looked like a racewalker with my speedy shuffle. I turned it into a kick with about a half-mile to go and went by the guy in the red shorts pretty easily.

I thought I had him for good, but he came right up on me with about 100 meters to go and in a friendly way, we told each other to race it to the finish. I found a gear that I don’t know I’ve ever used before and smoked him, which was fun. Then I stopped and the outside of my right knee was killing me. And as I write this, nearly eight hours after I finished the race, it still is.

Perfect finish to a forgettable day for me. 3:28:22 or something like that was my finish time. I’m not even going to bother to look to see where I finished in my age group or overall, because anything positive from that would be solely an indicator of the field. I did not have any kind of a remarkable run today.

So there you have it. 47 and a couple of ultras down, 14 to go. That same percentage is like mile 20.2 of a marathon, with only six miles to go. I don’t really want to do this right now, but I know I can and I will.