26.2 by 54

No, that's not some new caliber rifle cartridge. It's a question . . . or maybe a goal. Can I run 26.2 miles? Can I cover that much ground in a reasonable amount of time? Can I do it before I turn 54?

The marathon is interesting. For some reason, back when I was young and a relatively strong runner I had no interest in doing it. I recall in college reading some comments about the experience, written by a fellow student. His report boiled down to 1) he didn't think he could do it; 2) he did it; 3) in spite of all the pain, it was awesome. Did not leave me anxious to go after it myself. I had nothing against the marathon; it just wasn't for me. It was an activity pursued and performed by others.

I ran a fair amount in high school, a lot in college, and a lot in the USN. Post-navy, I soon got a house and a dog, registered for grad school, and started working multiple jobs. I kept up with my workouts, from push ups to flutter kicks to taekwondo kicks. I walked the dog (soon to be dogs) a lot, but I did not run much. Within about six months or so I found myself at Rangemaster, where my mindset changed from "why is there a state-mandated training course for a handgun carry permit?" to "wow, this is awesome!", and a new hobby was born. As my participation in shooting classes and competitions increased, my interest in running decreased. I advertised for a roommate and gained a friend, a fellow engineer who introduced me to the Junior Chamber of Commerce (Jaycees). Great bunch of folks; we went out a lot, went camping, played softball. I played softball for my work as well, and my wife's work, and the church team. I played indoor soccer. These sports were great fun, and they helped me to stay in shape. They were all the running I did for several years. Eventually we had our first child, and then our second. I changed jobs, and we moved away, leaving Tennessee for Nevada.

I soon found myself in worse shape than I had been in since . . . well, many years prior. I was in my 40s, and I was a Dad. My 20s were all about college and the navy. My 30s were about getting married, becoming an athlete, and then becoming a dad. In my 40s I found that more effort was required to raise these kids. Not only did I have to teach them things directly, but I also had to teach them things by modeling certain behaviors. I had to lead by example. I realized that I needed to get back out there and run again.

When I started running, I was surprised at how hard it was, and how bad I was at it. In the autumn of 2010 (or was it 2011?), I started over. I could not go more than about a half mile, so that's what I did. Every day I ran a short route at a slow pace, slightly amused at how hard it was. But it began to get easier. Before long I was bored by the unchallenging route and started to push the distance farther. Eventually I ran all the way around the block and back home again--a total distance of about a mile and a half. When that got to be too easy, I did the obvious: I added a lap. Then two became, and three became four. I never went beyond four laps, because it was boring. I started to dream of running from place to place within the city, farther from my familiar neighborhood. With this new interest, I started to plan and run new routes. First there was a "big lap", which was roughly equivalent to the four laps (now "small laps") that I had been running. That shift did not add any distance right away, but it led to an almost-infinite number of choices for routes, and I explored these as I gradually pushed my envelope further than ever before. Even in my strongest running days, I rarely went beyond five miles, so this was pretty cool. I was not running fast, but I was running far. My moto soon became, "I don't care about the pace; just go the distance."

That begs the question, what distance? The obvious candidate for an answer is the marathon, but it seemed far off. When I did think about it, I often thought, why stop at 26.2 miles? Why not 30, or 50, or even more?

I first decided to try a marathon in 2012. The Rock'n'Roll marathon was held in November that year. I had planned to sign up, but I ended up being out of town that weekend for the USS Enterprise (CVN-65) inactivation ceremony in Norfolk, VA. No problem, I thought; they will be back next year. I continued my training runs, and by January or February 2013 I realized that I was running 14 miles. Since 14 is greater than 13.1, I figured I should be running actual half marathons, and I signed up for the Red Rock Canyon half in March 2013. I ran the whole way (unlike current-day runs, which tend to be walk-runs), and I finished in 2:32. Good, bad, or indifferent, that result set the bar for running faster in future halfs. It also got me thinking about a full marathon once more, so I signed up for the Rock'n'Roll marathon coming in November 2013.

I got my training runs up to 20 miles or so, but by mile 21 I was hitting a wall. I was able to walk back home that night long ago, but I was unable to run. Looking back it is clear to me that I simply did not eat enough. My caloric intake before and during the run was insufficient. I burned what fuel my body had and then-–even though I wanted to continue-—I hit a wall and stopped. That is as close as I came to going the full 26.2 mile distance.

Prior to breaking my leg a year ago, I was slowly but surely becoming a stronger runner and was once again toying with the idea of running a full marathon. After breaking my leg all my progress was lost, and it was time to start over again. I was doing well enough by February 2023 that I set a goal for myself to complete a full marathon by the end of 2023. In hindsight I can see ways that I could have done better, but suffice to say that I have failed to run a marathon this year, and that is unlikely to change. But then I saw a social media post about walking a marathon in 7 hours. "I can do that", I thought. At that time, I was signed up for the Red Rock Canyon half marathon on 10/14/23, and the race was just a day or two away. In the past I felt pretty used up after a half, due to trying hard to finish as fast as possible. This time I decided to treat it less like a race and more like a hike. After all, I have plenty of hikes under my belt that took longer than 7 or 8 hours. The total distance was shorter, but the terrain was much more difficult. In any case, the thought of doing the route, and then doing it again flashed into my mind. It might take closer to 8 hours, but I bet I could do it.

The half marathon had a 4-hour time limit, so I could not go too slow. Mindful of the clock and also the need to keep my pace sustainable not just to 13.1 miles but to 26.2, I moved at a pace that resulted in a dead-last finish, but that also resulted in me actually feeling good at the finish line. I wasn't particularly strong; my time chip read something like 3:39, give or take a few seconds. Even if I were doing nothing but the 13.1 miles and went as hard as I could go, my time would not have improved much. Maybe 3:15 at best, I think. But I felt good! So far the plan was working.

The plan that I came up with was to do the half marathon, and then walk home. Repeating the route was not an option, as the park was closed, and the route was taken down by the race organizer's crew. But I knew the way home, so after a short break to eat and drink and rearrange my gear, I started walking. My race ended at about 9:25, and I was ready to go by 10:00, or maybe a few minutes earlier.

It is 8 miles on Charleston from the Red Rock Canyon exit to the turn onto Blue Diamond. Other than some very fast late–night traffic, the first part of the walk was mostly uneventful. As part of rearranging my gear for the second half of my informal marathon, I wanted quick and easy access to my neck knife. That required leaving my backpack's waist belt unbuckled, hooking my cane onto a loop on one of my two backpacks, and putting my phone in my pocket. A quick test showed that I could get my hand on the knife quickly. At 11 PM I heard a sound that startled me a little. It sounded like a snort from something big. I was on the left side of the road, and this was in the adjacent bushes, so it was close. I try to stay alert and aware of my surroundings in general, but this caught me by surprise. I may have caught whatever made that noise by surprise, too, since I suspect that pedestrians are rare in that spot. I turned to look for the source of the noise and thought I saw a large coyote. I could not see it clearly, so it was hard to tell. The snort, though, made me think of a wild burro. I was caught between the two images and never did get resolution, but I started to hear things (large things) moving in the bushes, and I saw many pairs of glowing eyes looking at me. Whether a pack of coyotes or a herd of horses, I had to do something, so I whipped out my knife and my cell phone. The phone was for music, the idea being that something loud and heavy (Judas Priest, Metallica, Iron Maiden) would possibly deter any critter from approaching. The knife was in case the music proved to be an ineffective deterrent. I tried to get some video of the eyes (or anything else), but all I got for my effort was 26 seconds of me lighting up the bushes and crunching on the gravel. For the next mile or two I turned around a LOT to check behind me, but I could see nothing following.

I felt good at the start of phase two, which was roughly mile 13. By mile 16 or so my back started hurting, and by mile 21 my knees were sore, too. I had to complete a second 13.1 miles, which meant roughly 8 miles to my turn and then 5 miles along Blue Diamond, at which point I would get my wife to pick me up. I reached the turn at about a quarter past midnight and texted my progress to my family. My back and knees were hurting more and more with each step, and my phone battery was down to single digits, so I asked her to come to where I waa. I covered another mile or two while she was in transit, and then when we met and I got the phone connected to a charging cable, I checked the map. I only needed about 2 more miles. Getting close! My initial plan had been to emulate a hike--eat and drink while resting, and then continue. We came up with a better plan, though--go home so she could get to bed and my phone would have more time to charge, and then do the rest of my walking. I ate and drank on the way, and then I walked two laps around the block, giving me two and a half more miles and a total of 26.8 for the event. Yes!

I still have not run a marathon, but I did go the distance. Now that that's out of the way, I can work on doing it faster.