I always try to write my race reports as quickly as possible. Do them, don’t look back and move on. But also, the closer to the race I write it, the more accurately I can remember the details and the emotions. I’m writing this from an airplane fewer than three hours after I finished the Operation Jack 7-Hour Challenge in Portland Sunday, so maybe I’m being dramatic when I say this might have been the best experience I’ve had this year, but it was absolutely awesome.

I’m going to hit the running details quickly so I can move on to the non-running details, which are more important regarding this race.

This was a seven-hour timed race around a loop in a park in Portland, Oregon, that I measured at 0.94 miles on my Garmin. My goal was 45 miles for the day. I think I kind of just picked that number, but I figured 6.5 miles per hour for seven hours was a decent goal to aim for. In theory, that would have put me at 50 somewhere around 7:45, which is decent for a flat course, which this was aside from a couple of small inclines and declines.

The only problem is that I ran my 41st marathon of the year the day before, thrashing my quads on a big downhill course in Pocatello, Idaho (recap here), so I knew this would be painful from start to finish. This race was put on as a fundraiser for Operation Jack, so I didn’t mind doing it. On paper, I looked at it as an addition to the schedule and though, yeah, it would be tough, but oh well. But then I had to get up and run for seven hours!

I wanted to go out and just run it at the pace and effort that I typically would for an easy training run. I needed to lock into that “go forever” effort and then go forever. Well, for seven hours. I took the first lap very slowly, at about a 10:00/mile pace, because my legs hurt really bad. But within about three miles, I gradually pushed it up to about 8:15/mile and felt pretty good. My quads hurt pretty bad, but I didn’t worry about being able to run for a while.

So, I just started knocking out the miles. There was an aid station at the start line and I stopped about once every three miles for a two-minute break or so. Every other stop, I texted out an update to my wife and to my Twitter feed. She was worried about me (what wife wouldn’t be worried about her husband trying to run 45 miles?), so I killed two birds with one stone with a dual-purpose mass text several times.

I was targeting 45 miles, so I started doing math in my head to track my progress. By about 15 miles in, I was looking like I’d hit it somewhere between 20 and 30 minutes before the 7-hour mark. I started thinking about 47 or 48, but I knew I’d eventually fade.

I was pretty encouraged when I hit mile 25, because I did the math and only need to average 10:00/mile the rest of the way to hit 45. After about mile 28 or so, I really started to hurt pretty bad and I started to slow. I started running 8:30s, then 8:45s, then by the time I got late into the 30s, I was running at around 9:00/mile. I was a little slower than after mile 40, running some miles in the 9:30 range.

The breaks probably added up to about 20-30 minutes, but I obviously needed them for water and food. I knew I had 45 locked up with about an hour to go, although I was still cautious, because there’s no guarantees when you’re at mile 40+, especially the day after a marathon. I’m not one of those 100-mile ultra runners.

Early in the last hour, I knew that I hadn’t walked the entire day, that aside from when I had stopped at the aid station, I had run the entire time. I was out there running for Operation Jack and I was also running as part of a fun bet I had going on representing my alma mater, Kansas State University, against a grad from our rival, the University of Kansas. Well, there’s no quit in Jack and there’s no quit in a Wildcat and I became really adamant about not walking.

I didn’t, and not only did I run every step I took, when I crossed the start line at 6:58:40, there was no possible way I was going to complete another lap. But I kept running until the clock hit 7:00:00. Down to the very last second, it was important to me to not quit. And I didn’t. Of course, as luck would have it, I got to finish on one of the inclines. But it was awesome. I stopped my Garmin and saw that I covered 45.26 miles. I was pretty happy with that. I mean, how could I not be happy with being able to run 45.26 miles the day after I ran my 41st marathon of the year? I’m not an elite athlete — I’m just a guy who’s inflicting a lot of pain on his body this year. I was thrilled to run that far. From an individual standpoint, Saturday’s marathon seemed like a loss. Sunday’s was a win.

But enough about that. The running was a small part of it. The most important part was what this did for Operation Jack. First, some background. Operation Jack supporter Deb Bosilevac approached me with the idea of doing a 7-hour timed race as a fundraiser for Operation Jack over Labor Day Weekend. I told her that if she could get it together and get some runners, I’d do it. I’d still keep Pocatello on the schedule, but I’d add the race on and extend my travels over the weekend.

I put her in the loop with a marathon runner I know in the Portland area, Steve Walters, and it didn’t take long to make it a go. I added it on to the schedule and was in the background on the planning, but I didn’t have a lot of time to contribute.

When all was said and done, though, it was an amazing event. I stayed with Steve’s parents and they hosted a pasta dinner the night before the race. I had met Steve and Deb before, but I got to met both of their families, and a few running friends. Nothing but nice people, and it was really cool to see everybody coming together and supporting Operation Jack. I’ve said this before, but it’s really weird for me to get support — in a way, I feel undeserving. I mean, if I can do something, how hard can it be? What’s the big deal?

But people believe in the cause and what I’m trying to do, so when I see folks coming together, I feel very fortunate. I believe I was led down this path to try to run all these races and make a difference, and I get to experience a lot of really cool things. This was another amazing experience in an amazing year.

For the race, there were close to 20 people out there, several of them wearing the Operation Jack tech shirts I gave them for participating. There were people out there volunteering at 6 a.m. It was surreal. They were all doing this for the cause. I wish I could find the words to explain how it made me feel, but I really can’t. I guess the best way I can put it is to say that I’m really blessed.

During the race, I talked to one of the volunteers, Layla Bohm, and complained about my physical pain. I asked her, jokingly, “Why am I doing this to myself?” Her answer was pretty simple and really made me smile. “Your son!” Jack doesn’t directly benefit from all this, but I truly believe that what I’m doing is going to make a difference in the world, even if it won’t be a huge difference. Since I know I wouldn’t be doing this if not for his autism, it made me pretty happy to think about his cute little face and know that he’s going to impact people.

One other cool thing from the race — about 18 or so miles in, there was a group of three women who asked me if I was Jack. Apparently, they’d talked to somebody and saw all the OJ shirts running through the park, so they wanted to know what Operation Jack was all about. I talked with them for a few minutes. As is frequently the case, I got the “wow” comments about all the marathons, which is why I’m doing this, because that led into the talk abut Train 4 Autism. They know people affected by autism, so I’m hopeful they’ll participate with Train 4 Autism or bring other people in at some point in time. That alone would make the race worth it.

But that won’t be the only benefit. I need to add everything up, but I think this race ended up raising about $1,800 or so for Operation Jack, which means $1,800 for Train 4 Autism, which hopefully means that someday $18,000 will get raised for autism-related charities.

I’m in a lot of pain right now. But it was totally worth it and I feel pretty fortunate to be feeling the way I am right now.

41 and an ultra down. 20 marathons to go!

My calves twitching on their own after the race.

Saturday’s Pocatello Marathon was a big disappointment due to my individual performance, and while I know my approach should focus on the cause and not myself, sometimes it’s nearly impossible not to dwell on a lousy race.

Mentally, I was all-in for this one. The course profile is favorable for the way I run and I was really eyeing this one as a PR (personal record, fastest time ever) course. I still feel that way about the course. I do various things with my training and recovery to get myself in the best position to race, and I really thought this had a chance at being a great day.

As a lot of you know, my PR is 3:00:05. Sub-3 means finishing a marathon quicker than three hours, no slower than 2:59:59. I was six seconds off of that and I’ve been chasing it for nearly three years. In fact, chasing those six seconds was part of what drove me towards Operation Jack. I thought it was a waste of my efforts for my running to revolve such a small margin. Maybe it’s meant to be that I live with a 3:00:05 PR for a while?

Anyways, I’ve had a few races over the years where I thought I had a good shot at that PR, and today was one of them. I felt light, I felt ready, I felt quick, and most important, I was fired up. I had been excited all week. I was talking up a storm about it, putting pressure on myself to go out and get it done. Saturday was my day.

I got up this morning and while getting ready, I looked at myself in the mirror, thinking about the race. Someday I’m going to go sub-3. It might not be this year, it might not be next year. But someday I’ll get it. I’m not a gifted athlete, but I’ve worked very hard over the years and I want it and I’m going to get it. So I thought, while I looked at myself, that one day is going to be the day that I finally go to bed with that goal accomplished and Saturday was as good a day as any.

Up at the start line, I was completely nervous, a feeling I hadn’t had in years. I wanted to throw up from the nerves. It was an amazing. I was so excited to go run and get this done. I took off at the start and I was moving well, staying under control by heart rate and flying down the course.

The wheels were turning, and while it was a downhill course, I wasn’t feeling any of the pain I expected to feel. The miles were flying by, my stride was good, my turnover was good — it was an awesome run. I crossed the halfway point in 1:29 flat, pretty much right where I wanted to be. There were points between miles 8 and 14 where I thought I was slowing down, but I’d turn a 6:45 and know I could do that all the way home and join Club 2 (that’s what I like to call the group of people who have run sub-3).

I was on pace at mile 15.5, and then I don’t know what happened. I started to slow and people started running right by me like I was standing still. I could tell by 16 that I was toast. I had no idea, and I don’t and I’m not even going to try to analyze it. But the day was done and I knew it. The legs weren’t turning and the miles were instantly in the mid-8s. I ran 9 miles the first hour and only 8.2 the second hour. I knew those last miles were going to be incredibly difficult on me mentally.

I kept running (and I use the term loosely, because I was so incredibly slow), trying to salvage anything I could out of the day. Sub-3:10? BQ with a 3:15? All I could keep thinking about was how my day was unraveling so quickly and so incredibly. Like I said, I know this can’t be my attitude every week, but every here and there, I’m going to go after a race and expect a lot. That’s the competitiveness in me and that’s what today was for me.

Well, long story short, I finished in 3:16:40 according to my Garmin, probably a few seconds quicker wen I check the official results. I didn’t even BQ. I took 3rd in my age group, but that’s probably a result of a not-very-big field. I don’t even know what I won — I had to jet out of town in a hurry to catch a flight.

I was pretty upset about this one at the finish. I was so all-in for this one and it blew up on me. I texted my wife and told her I was pretty upset. She told me not to worry, that the race that matters for the weekend is Sunday’s 7-hour race in Portland, because that’s the one that’s raising all the money.

I got in the car and the first song that was on the CD was All I Ask For Any More by Trace Adkins. The chorus to that song is, “When I bow my head tonight … there will be no me, myself and I … just watch my wife and kids, please Lord … that’s all I ask for any more.” I’ll admit it — it made me cry. I was kind of an emotional overload and some kind of nuclear explosion happened in my head. Tiff was right about Sunday’s race and as hard as it is, I need to keep things in perspective. But every here and there, I’m going to have days like these. You guys read about them, but I have to live them.

So I guess now I need to move the focus on to Portland. I need to get myself fired up to run the heck out of that race. It’s pretty simple — the more miles I run, the more money I raise. I can turn things around in that one, but I really hope I run well because if I don’t, I’ll have seven hours to think about it! By the way, if you haven’t seen what we’re doing, please click here to read my blog from Thursday, especially if it’s before Sunday!

That’s all, I guess. 41 down, 20 to go. Plus seven hours on Sunday, of course.

Sunday’s Santa Rosa Marathon was almost more about the Pocatello Marathon for me than it was about Santa Rosa. I needed to get on track mentally for Pocatello, and that’s exactly what I did. I could have been faster that I was today, but I couldn’t be happier than how I am right now.

I’ve been in a bit of a slump lately, running only one Boston qualifier since I went 3:10 at Fargo on May 22. There have been pretty fair reasons for some of the slower times — pacing duties, challenging courses at high elevation, high heat and an injury to the IT band in my right leg. However, I’ve been doing a fairly good job in my training lately and I’m confident I’m regaining a bit of the speed I surrendered in June and July.

I’m eyeing next week’s race as a huge opportunity, but I wanted a confidence booster. I know I can run fast and I think I can run fast now, so I wanted to go out and get it done today. I wasn’t necessarily dwelling on putting together the race of my life, but I wanted to see some success.

Santa Rosa’s course is pretty nice. It’s flat and fast, peaceful and scenic. It’s in wine country, although it was more of a scenic run through the woods. I would have never known I was near vineyards if you wouldn’t have told me, but it was still a nice run through a well-developed trail network. About eight miles were run on gravel paths that weren’t optimal for footing.

I wanted to go out, run by heart rate and not fear a bonk. That’s exactly what I did and I was pretty happy with how it went. I stayed under control, not letting my heart rate creep beyond my target rate of 170-172. Each of the first seven miles were between 6:48 and 6:59. Mile 8 was 7:00 on gravel. I felt fairly quick, with good stride and turnover. And really, that’s all I needed from the race to give me confidence. I kept at it and started to feel some pain by about mile 10. I slowed a bit, but it wasn’t significant.

I hit the half in 1:33 and change, but knew with the pain I was feeling that I probably wasn’t going to come in sub-3:10. The course was two loops of a 13.1-mile route and I knew I’d be slower the second time around. I figured I was a lock for a sub-3:15 and a BQ, though.

I kept rolling, picking up some momentum and moving past some people between miles 14 and 18. I was actually in good fighting shape for a 3:10 at 20, needing 7:15s or so the rest of the way. I didn’t have the fight, though, and faded with miles in the 7:30-7:40 range over the final 10K.

I crossed the mat in 3:12:58 according to my Garmin. I took 10th overall and 3rd in my age group. I didn’t put together a tremendously solid race, but it was good enough and it gave me the confidence boost I needed. I’m running a downhill course next weekend, something I’m very strong on. I know, everybody is faster running downhill than uphill, but downhill running is a strength of mine.

I wanted something to convince me I can reasonably go after sub-3 next weekend and I’m convinced. I think I’ll be able to head out and run in the 6:35-6:45 range for a while. Ordinarily, I might feel a bit guilty about going after a PR on a downhill course, but I’ve run those before and there are no free miles. They beat the heck out of your quads and can be a disaster. And of course, I’ll never apologize for anything I accomplish in my 41st marathon of the year!

So, mission accomplished in Santa Rosa. I ran a decent race. I knocked some of the rust off my wheels. And I ignited my competitive fire as I head into a PR attempt.

40 down, 21 to go. Look out, Pocatello. I’m coming to get you!

I’m always up for a good challenge, so lucky me, I got to run the Park City (Utah) Marathon Saturday. The course starts at 6,450 feet above sea level, spends 16 miles climbing to 7,250, then drops back down to 6,450. It’s a difficult run, to say the least. The altitude is a significant problem, and the hills are extremely tough. I headed in hoping to break 3:40 with a solid run.

I felt fairly decent heading in. It was a short week for me, a Saturday marathon following a marathon the previous Sunday. But I didn’t run much this week and my legs felt OK. I didn’t fear or dread the course like I might have in the past. But I knew it was going to be a long day.

My plan was to run hard, but conservative, until we peaked at 7,250 feet. I kept an elevation window on my Garmin so I could keep an eye on our progress. For the first several miles, we went through a series of rolling hills, never really getting much higher than 6,550. I started getting anxious, because I knew the longer we waited to really start climbing, the steeper the hills would be.

Along the way, I thoroughly enjoyed the scenery. Following Humpy’s Marathon in Anchorage last week, it would have been easy for me to be unimpressed with Park City. But this course was pretty nice. I’d put it up there with the best I’ve run this year. It’s a ski resort town and I didn’t see a single thing that didn’t look nice. It was very green, extremely sleepy and peaceful.

About 1/2 the course, maybe a little less, was on either gravel or a single-track trail. So that, combined with the altitude and climbs, made it a very tough run. But it was a very nice, peaceful run. I’d highly recommend it if you’re not afraid of a challenge.

Anyways, we finally started climbing pretty well somewhere a little after mile 10 or 11. Temperatures were fairly cool for most of the run, but we were exposed for a good chunk of it and the sun started peeking out about halfway through. The last three miles before we peaked were a fairly solid climb and it started to get pretty difficult. I held on pretty well getting to the top — I think one thing I’m getting good at is running through pain, even if the speed isn’t all there, so I handled this pretty well.

I was excited to hit the turnaround because I run well on downhills. I moved for a couple of miles and passed some folks, but we faced a ridiculous climb at mile 18. It was probably 1/4 mile and it must have been a 20-degree incline. When I turned the corner and saw that, I knew it would be a killer. Everybody else was walking it, but I ran (well, shuffled), because I hate trying to start running after walking. My shuffle was only good for a 15 minute/mile pace — that’s how steep it was!

Once I got through there, I started to run out of steam. I’d thrashed myself getting to that point, and there was no air to breathe. I kept going as hard as I could, which wasn’t very hard. I really wanted to come in under 3:40. I think this course adds 25-30 minutes to your time, especially if you don’t have the altitude experience.

We were exposed for most of the last 8 miles and it started getting fairly warm. I kept my eye on my progress and knew I was fairly close and by about 23, I figured I’d end up within 20 seconds of 3:40, either way. Once I hit 25, I didn’t look at my overall time or my pace or my heart rate. I just ran to the finish. I really enjoyed the run, but I was really glad to cross the finish line and stop moving!

I stopped my timer and got some fluids in my system before checking my time. I wanted to take a minute to not worry so much about my time and catch my breath after completing a good, hard run. I finally took a look, and I went 3:39:40. I was pretty happy about it. Nothing I’m going to do back flips over, but I feel like I ran well, fought hard, and gave it my best shot. I have no shame in this run.

And really, when I compare it to how I did at the Grizzly Marathon three weeks ago, I’m pretty pleased. That race was challenging with climbs and gravel roads above 4,000 feet, and my 3:35 there was actually decent. Today’s course was easily 10-15 minutes slower than that one. I’ve worked fairly hard on my speed in training this month and I think I’m starting to run a little better, even if the times don’t reflect that.

I did some different things to manage my nutrition during the race today — I have a few target races coming up and I want to try to delay fatigue. So, I guess I’m happy with this one. Individually, I’m comfortable with how I ran. But beyond that, the Operation Jack train is still rolling.

I’m starting to run out of time, but I’m really starting to get excited to think about the fact that I had an idea and I went after it and I’m doing everything I can do get it done. Nothing feels better than running yourself into the ground working as hard as you can.

So, 39 down, 22 to go!

I’m not going to spend a whole of time talking about my running in Humpy’s Marathon in Anchorage, Alaska, Sunday. I think that would miss the point of it all. But I will write a quick recap and then talk about why I think this one is a must-run.

I came into this race feeling pretty good. I felt about as good as I have physically this year and I was well-rested. I ran well early on and felt comfortable with how I was doing. I felt strong and not tremendously fast, but quicker than I’ve been lately.

I slowed a little bit after the first 10K, but hit the half in 1:35 and change. I started to slow pretty badly by about mile 17 or so. My legs got really stiff and I was running about a minute per mile slower than I had been. At mile 24, I tried my best to give it a good charge and I did fairly well at the end. What looked like a 3:19 day ended up being a 3:17:33. I finished 15th overall, 3rd in my age group. I’m content with how I ran in my 38th marathon of the year.

OK, now that the running part is out of the way, this race is now probably my favorite. It’s a tough toss-up between this and Boston, but Boston’s tradition and talented field give it some bonus points. From a course standpoint, there is no question that this is the best one I’ve ever run. I don’t know that I’ll ever run a nicer course.

It starts in downtown Anchorage, which is a nice little area, and within about two miles, you spend 22 miles running through a trail system that’s pretty well developed. The course has slight rolling hills, but nothing drastic. You can run fast on this course. But you might not want to run fast on the course because the scenery is amazing.

There are wooded areas, there’s a bay, there’s snow-capped mountains off in the distance … just when you think you’ve seen something awesome, there’s something else right around the corner. Runner’s World magazine has a section called “Rave Runs” where they show snapshots of people running in breathtaking areas. This course was one constant rave run. There were creeks, there was fog on top of the bay at times … it was amazing.

As I kept running, I kept thinking, “Wow, if nothing else, for all the work I’m putting in this year, these 26.2 miles are my reward.” At one point, I ran about 10 feet away from a mama moose and her little calf. The course support was great and the folks were enthusiastic.

I really hope that my wife Tiffany gets over the inflammation in her ankle that’s been bothering her for a year. I’d love to bring her here and run every step of the way with her. That’s probably the only way I would enjoy a run more than I enjoyed this one today.

So, that’s my take on Humpy’s Marathon in Anchorage. Take it from me, because I’ve run a lot of courses — this one belongs on your must-do list!