Garry Bjorklund Half Marathon: Race Recap

Garry Bjorklund Half Marathon

I went into this race with a lot of unknowns. I had never run a race this long on the roads. Heck, I had never run more than 8 miles on pavement. I haven’t run a race longer than a 5k on pavement in 10 years. With the knee I sprained in the Lost in the Woods 50k (my PT decided it was a strain or a sprain, not something more serious), I lost most of my May training period. It wasn’t until the week before that I ran a full 13 miles in training, proving that I could actually run the distance. 

When I originally signed up for this race, I thought I might be able to hit between a 6:15 and a 6:30 with a solid training block. With only two solid weeks of speed training plus a taper week leading up to this race, I gave my family split estimates ranging from 6:30 (which I figured would only be to give them enough leeway to see me), to 7:00 minute pace (what I figured I could pull off), to 7:30 (just run and finish pace). 

Pre-Race 

We made the drive to Duluth Friday afternoon. As expected, the construction on 35 led to a long delay (an hour or so?). When we did (finally) get to Duluth, there was a line down the freeway to get off at the DECC parking lot, and the Fitgers 5k was going on as well, so we opted to head to my parents’ house for dinner (chicken stir fry, pre-race meal of not-quite-front-of-the-pack runners). 

After dinner, we headed down to the DECC, wandered past the spaghetti dinner (ugh, definitely not my thing pre-race), through the expo, and picked up my race packet and bib. Then we wandered through Canal Park, to stay loose and relax a bit. In a departure from earlier pre-race traditions, we stopped by Endion Station (now one of many Rod Raymond establishments), and I had a (session) beer. 

At one time, I detoxed for three full days before races. As I got more experienced, though, I realized that it was being relaxed, rather than focussing and over-preparing, that has led to my best race experiences and my fastest times. So these days, I will occasionally have a beer the day before a race. 

Back to my parents’, and I laid out everything i would need in the morning (running kit, bread and peanut butter, and most importantly coffee makings) before heading for an early bed. The 4:15 alarm was staring me in the face, and I knew I would not sleep well. 

Sure enough, 6 hours of time and 5 hours of sleep later, the alarm went off, and for once I didn’t hit the snooze. Within half an hour I was fed, caffeinated, and wandering down the hill to the Edgewater, where the buses left from. 

Now, as you know, my last race had 25 people and started from a guy’s garage. This race had 7,300 starters and had a big production of a starting line. I have to put a word in here: this race has its routine down. The pace groups are clearly labeled in the corral (if not exactly adhered to), the bag drop is well organized, and they had plenty of port-a-potties. 

Feeling relaxed, and having put zero pressure on myself, I chatted with a number of people at the starting line. I got a lot of mileage out of my line that “this race is only about 300 times bigger than my last one.”  I also got a lot of mileage out of adding “and it should be over about four hours more quickly.”

The Race: 

I think this race can fairly be divided into three sections: Pre-Duluth (miles 1-6, roughly), London Road (miles 7-10), and Downtown. 

Pre-Duluth: 

My goal was to be conservative out of the gate, so when the flag dropped (no gun for this race) I ran the first mile with the 1:30 pace setter. This kept me from blowing the first mile too quickly, but proved a little too slow. Even though I was still blasting by runners who had started too close to the front, I was still breathing easily in a 4-3 pattern when I passed the first mile in 6:50.  I dropped the pace a little bit, and settled into the upper end of my 4-3 pattern, which at this point was about 6:35. 

The first five miles of the course follow the north shore scenic highway, and are in my opinion the most beautiful of the course. It is also somewhat discouraging, as you can see the lift bridge, near the finish, from several points on the road. Coming from trails where you’re lucky to see a hundred yards in front of you, this is quite a change. 

Even so, I took in the views of the lake and the wildlife. Around mile two or three, there were three loons taking off at the same time, paralleling our course and almost precisely pacing us, with their comically huge feet trailing behind them in the water. This is my hometown race, one I’ve meant to do since I started running, and I intended to take it in and enjoy it. 

I was surprised at how many spectators there were, given that it was still well before 7AM. Some residents had set up showers (they had clearly done this before) at the side of the road. I availed myself, as even at 60 degrees, the 90% humidity was getting to me.

Still ticking off the 6:35 miles, I drew even with another runner, and we struck up a bit of a conversation. Neither of us had trained as well as we’d liked, me coming off injury, and him coming of a collegiate track season of much shorter races (he was a 1500m specialist). I found out his name was Nate, and we ran through mile 6 together in 6:25, my fastest mile of the course. 

Around 6 miles, the course passes the Lester river, and runs right by my sister’s house. 

Apparently, I was outrunning my error bars on the running tracker app, so my sister and brother-in-law were not expecting me yet. Not to worry, for I let out a loud “seeeeeester!” followed by a “This is Nate! Cheer for Nate!” as we went by, and passed into the Duluth section of the course on London Road. 

London Road: 

This may have been the hardest portion of the race for me. Driving down London Road always seems interminable, with North Shore traffic and a 30 mph speed limit for the 3 miles between I-35 and the expressway. Running along it is not much better. 

Up until this point I had been pretty comfortable, but the race caught up to me here, and of all things it was my quads that started to hurt. My calves and hamstrings were somewhat sore before I started, so I anticipated that those might be my weak points. But I was 6 miles in, and this was not unexpected. I ratcheted my breathing up to a 3-2 in/out pattern, and the pace slipped to about 6:40, but I continued down the never-ending road. 

A left turn, and there, a full mile away, you can see the only significant hill on the course: Lemon Drop Hill (I miss the Lemon Drop, but that’s another story). I’m not sure what’s more cruel, standing at the starting line of the Pikes Peak Marathon looking up 8000’ at the mountain, or staring down a mile of flat road looking at that minor hill. 

Right at the base of the hill, though, I got an unexpected boost: somebody started blasting “Just What I Needed” by The Cars right as I got to the bottom of the hill. A woman to the right gasped “I love this song!” I said “I was just thinking the same thing.” We high-fives, leaned forward, into, and over the hill, where I knew I had a secret weapon. 

Just what I needed indeed. 

Downtown: 

The top of Lemon Drop Hill, right at 25th Avenue East, is my family’s traditional cheering spot. My parents had indicated that they’d be down there cheering for me, and sure enough they were. Not only that, I spied my their friend Clyde and his son Grant (my friend and a 1:07 half marathoner. He’s far faster than me) with them. In need of a mental boost, I ran over and high-fived my parents, and tackled Grant. 

Grant was a bit flustered, yelling at me to keep going because I was at a good pace. I don’t know if he knew my theory of happy running. 

I can see them!

Swerving over to say hi (this may be my favorite picture of me running, ever)

Zeroing in.

And the tackle!

I knew, though, that I could keep the current pace to the finish. Four miles doesn’t seem like that much when it’s through your home town, where you hear the occasional random shout of “Go Jamie!” and you’ve already finished 9 miles. I was cramping a bit, though, so took a salt tab (without water. Never, ever take a salt tab without water.)

This section is where the spectators really start to pack in, lining both sides of the road in a continuous crowd. Turning up and onto Superior Street, I cruised by Duluth Running Company, getting a high five from the owner, and a friend from forever, Clint.  

The only unpleasant experience (I mean, other than the growing pain and fatigue of racing 10 miles) on the entire course happened by Fitgers. The runner just in front of me purposefully knocked every cup of water out of the aid station workers’ hands, just as I was reaching for them. It turns out that the station was manned by his Boy Scout troop, but still: Not Cool!

(I may have called him a “douche canoe.”)

But now I was a 5k from the finish. Just over 20 minutes, at the pace I was going. 

The stretch through downtown was fun. Lake Avenue was packed with people (probably waiting to see runners, then dash down to the finish line to see them again). It was harder, now, to hold the pace, and I let it slip a bit on the ramp over I-35. Down, around the DECC, and alongside the Ervin. 

It was like running through my childhood. 

The last mile, there was a young woman ahead of me who kept having to stop, clearly with stomach issues. Rounding the last corner into the home stretch, I slowed briefly to try and encourage her, and it may have helped. She finished just a couple seconds behind me.

This is probably the first time I have ever had tunnel vision at the end of a race. All I was focused on was the finish line and getting across it. The race timer would later say that I was passed by 25 people in the last mile, but I don’t know how that could be. There simply weren’t that many people that close to me.

I crossed the line in 1:27:14, a 21 second PR. Despite only two weeks of speed work, and a May largely devoid of training of any sort, I hit all of my goals: I finished, I ran sub-1:30, and I ran a PR. 

The Aftermath: 

Initially, after the race, I didn’t feel bad at all. My dad had biked down the Lakewalk to the finish line, and I chatted with him a bit. Then I wandered down the Lakewalk to wade for a little bit and soak my calves. I had a giant blood blister on each of my little toes, which stung when I tried to get my toe socks back on. 

Then, since I had some time and no other way to get home, I ran back along the Lakewalk towards my house. 

Another shout of “Hey mate!” and I looked over my shoulder to see none other than Lee Troop, four-time Olympic marathoner and head coach of the Boulder Track Coach. He was in town pacing one of his athletes (she ran a 1:14:51 for 4th place and a chance at the Israeli national team!). Turns out he will again be in town for the Twin Cities Marathon this year. 

I stopped by the DRC to say hi to Clint on the way home, then it was back to 25th, and up the hill to home. 

The day of, I barely felt sore at a all, despite what was well over 16 miles by the end (and a “Strava” PR for my half marathon, 20k, 10 mile, 15k, and 10k). The real soreness did not hit me until Sunday, and today (Monday) I feel far more sore than I ever have after a race. 

This was a fun event, and I am glad I ran it, but in the future, I think I’ll stick to the trails. 

Roads are brutal.