Saturday morning. And I was feeling lucky. The legs were fresh, the weather perfect, and the Pound the Pavement for the Playground 5K was setting up in Esko, MN. With a number of competing races in the region, the talent was well distributed about the land. Racing in my own back yard, in a small town race. Perhaps today would be my day to shine. Feeling confident, I cased the competition...

Hmmm. That 9-year-old looked ready to go – and everyone knows if you could harness the energy of a 9-year-old you could power a city the size of Proctor. Still, I was the wily veteran here. I'd leverage my vast racing experience – I figured I could take him. I looked around some more. Middle aged man with running stroller. He'd have the advantage on downhills. But this was a flat course. Still good.

Overall, the field was sizing up well. 150+ participants, a good mix of runners of all ages. But I had been training hard and was feeling loose. Maybe I had a shot at Esko fame and fortune. But little did I realize as I did my mental calculations, that I had neglected to account for one critical thing. The Return of the Legend...

Suddenly, the crowd seemed to hush, and parted like the Red Sea as he strode through. Maybe it was the quiet confidence in his stride, or perhaps his dashing, Brad Pitt-like good looks, but women seemed to swoon as he passed by.

“Is that...?” a boy said, hushed quickly by his father.
“Yes. That's him.”
“Oh, I just want to touch him,” said a woman in the crowd.
“Me, too.” said her husband.

I looked up, knowing what I would see. It was true. Bigger than life. NorthlandRunner.com entrepreneur and legendary Esko runner, Kris Glesener was in the house. It was at that moment that I knew what Lex Luther must feel like when Superman arrives.

With the crowd settled and the pleasantries over, it was time to race. The gun (whistle) went off, and a myriad of youngsters shot to the front – burning their energy candles like a sparkler on the Fourth of July. They faded quickly and I found myself at the front, save for one runner, who was gliding effortlessly in front of me.

Tenaciously, I tried to keep pace. At about the 1 mile mark Kris was feeling his oats and looked behind. “C'mon, Ron!”, he taunted. But I had no answer (and contrary to rumor, no, I did not make any obscene gestures). I was running with such velocity my cheeks were flapping like a dog with his head out the car window, and yet Kris slowly drifted further away. I pushed for the next couple of miles, to no avail. I just hoped I could get to the end before Kris was already in his car on the way home.

I hung on to finish third, passed by Tonya Thompson in the last mile – who was running barefoot. I was satisfied with my time, one of my faster 5Ks in a while - yet I stood in awe of the greatness I had seen today. The murmur can still be heard around town about this once-in-a-lifetime experience. Perhaps we'll get another glimpse of him, they say - maybe at the Kristen Burkholder 5K in August.

Maybe then I'll be ready. Maybe then I'll hang with the Legend. Dare to dream...

In all seriousness, the turnout was great for this fundraising 5K. Over 150 runners and walkers hit the course and over $6000 was earned toward the new playground to be built at Winterquist Elementary School in Esko, MN. I wish a heartfelt thank you to all Northland runners and walkers who stopped out for the morning.

Overall, the race went quite well – here's a few bits and pieces:

Things to do on a Saturday: Standing at the start of the Superior Trail 50K race in Lutsen, MN this weekend, the course map was running through my head. Let's see... Mystery Mountain, Moose Mountain, Oberg Mountain, Leveaux Mountain, Britton Peak, Carlton Peak. Then turn around and run it all back again. It was when this mental geography tally started sounding more Himalayan than Minnesotan that I thought, “You know, fishing would be such a nice hobby...”

Ships that Pass in the Night: A good piece of what I enjoy about these races is their gypsy-like nature. Different runners drift into your little world for a short while, you share some trail, perhaps some conversation; then they drift away, ahead or behind, to be replaced by another. I have noted that it is best to get any good discussions in early when conversation is comfortable and easy, as one tends to descend gradually to something more akin to Neanderthalic grunts as the miles pass, making mile 23 more suitable for, say, politics.

Cue the Band: The night before the race I had met Leslie Semler's friend from the U.P., Ian, and his compatriots Carl and Margot. Pausing from his pasta, Carl had asked me if I had any advice for Ian, who was running his first 50K. I thought for a moment and simply replied, “Run like your hair is on fire.” (For those of my running peers that think I pull that line out of the holster a little too often... Sue me, it was a new audience.) As I passed by Ian mid-way between Oberg and Sawbill, I jokingly asked him if his hair was still burning, receiving a somewhat reserved response. Hmmm. Perhaps not everyone appreciates me going David Letterman on them during a hill climb. Cut to commercial...

A Fool and his Money: Shane mentioned in his blog that I offered a crisp Benjamin Franklin should he break the 5-hour mark in the 50K. I would like to publicly state that I would never actively root against any of my running peers / pals in any race. After all, we're all in this together. However, I have no problem with throwing down the gauntlet. Next time I might want to remember that Shane does possess some of those Freak-of-Nature Olson Running Genes, as he made an excellent run for my money. 5:22, nice run Shane.

Meeting the Guru: At the top of Carlton Peak, the turn-around point for the 50K, stands race volunteer (and multiple Superior 50K winner) Charlie Hubbard. Next to him is a table he has hauled up there, laid out with a spread of refreshments liquid and solid. “I believe I'll take the Porter,” I requested. As I enjoyed a swig of that fine ale it dawned on me that I apparently could combine beer drinking with my current hobby, making any switch to fishing unnecessary. Cheers, Charlie.

Waiting for the NOVA Special: I'm going to have to talk to some of my geologist friends about the curious phenomenon of alpine expansion. This is the process by which certain geological features, such as Moose Mountain, grow longer, taller and steeper over the course of the day. The process appears to happen quite rapidly, sometimes occurring within the span of a mere 5 to 6 hours. Interesting. Must be the heat.

Youth is on our Side: As I approached the finish chute, a young boy of about 4 years saw me coming and decided he was going to lead me in. He zoomed out in front of me, his short legs a-churning. (I wondered if I should be concerned at all that I couldn't seem to catch him.) After a stretch, his older brother shouted, “Get outta the way! A runner's comin'!” I felt bad when he stepped aside. He was enjoying his run as much as I was enjoying mine. Next time, my little friend, you go ahead and keep on runnin'. We'll finish 'er up together.

For the Record: 5 hours, 40 minutes – a mix of aggressive and steady as the situation merited. Satisfied all the way around.

Facilitator: Welcome to the weekly Adult Onset Running Syndrome support group meeting. We have a new member with us today. Would you like to introduce yourself?

Ron: (standing nervously) Hi. My name is Ron.

Group: (in chorus) Welcome, Ron!

Ron: I have been a running addict for about 25 years now...

Facilitator: Good, Ron. Admitting the problem is the first step toward recovery. Why don't you tell us a bit of your story?

Ron: OK. I don't really come from a running pedigree. No cross-country or track in high school. In fact, powerlifting was actually my sport of choice - and I have the pictures to prove it. But then I, uh... is something wrong?

Group Member: (chuckling) Ah, no. It's OK, Ron. We're just trying to soak in that funny little weight-lifting outfit. (hee hee)

Ron: Are you about done?

Group Member: (snicker) Yup. Continue... Tell us how you were stricken by AORS.

Ron: Well, a while back I was just a casual runner. A little here and there to keep in shape. Nothing serious. Then I noticed a local running event, the Water Tower Run in St. Paul, passed a mere block from my house. I was intrigued, but tried to resist. Then a running friend of mine said, "You should give that race a go. I mean, it's just one little race. What can it hurt?" I was swayed by his earnestness, not noticing eyes that had the shifty furtiveness of a dealer. That race led to another, and another. Before I knew it I had piles of crumpled race numbers and hundreds of tiny safety pins I didn't know what to do with.

Facilitator: That's the way of it. First the gateway level 5K, then comes the 10K. Eventually, you need a half-marathon to get your fix. Before you know it, you’re standing at the starting line of the Twin Cities Marathon wondering how the Hell you got there.

Ron: (weeping) Yes! That's it exactly! You understand!

Group: We’ve all been there, Ron.

Facilitator: Has this addiction cost you your family life?

Ron: Not yet. But like many addicts I hide evidence of the affliction. When I'm jonesin' for mileage, I often resort to running at ungodly hours of the morning when no one will see me. How do you guys cope?

Group: Coffee.

Group Member, from the corner: And amphetamines! Oh, wait. That's my other support group. Nevermind...

Facilitator: Ahem. Well. How are you doing now, Ron?

Ron: Not so well. My wardrobe is 75% poly-fiber, and I've been stashing pairs of running shoes in back corners of closets for fear of discovery. And, frankly, I've run out of closets. This year I added 50-mile races to my schedule. I can't control myself.

Facilitator: Hmmm. It's worse than I thought. You came in just in time.

So, please, give to your nearest AORS Foundation. For a contribution of only about the cost of a cup of coffee per day (and perhaps the diamond encrusted mug it is served in) you can make the life of one of these poor victims a little more tolerable. PayPal accepted.

It's sunny and cool, perfect conditions as a number of Northland Runner contributors gather at the start of the Trail Mix events in Bloomington, MN. Leslie Semler, Lisa Messerer and Liz Olsen are there for the 25K. Shelly Thompson, Marcus Taintor, Wayne Nelson (from Rochester) and I are set for the 50K. The 50K gun fires at 7:00 AM.

Lap 1 – The Superior Trail back home provides plenty of hills, but upon cresting a ridge one is often rewarded with a stretch of rolling terrain that allows for rhythm and a chance to loosen up. I call these reaches Recovery Time, and often wish I had a few more of them. My assessment during the first lap is that the Trail Mix course is about 1% hills, 99% Recovery Time. But, 30 miles is 30 miles, so let's not get cocky. I pace with a 50-year-old ultra-marathon veteran named Dave, a friendly gentleman who trains here. Dave is like a personal tour guide, giving me a verbal preview of each section we approach.

Late in the loop there is a lollipop shaped section that allows one to see the other runners on the return. I meet the 25K runners, who had started a half hour after the 50K, and spy Leslie and Lisa running smoothly among them. Turning the final corner of the loop, I note the clock is at 1 h, 10 min. I'm wondering if I'm going too hard early, and consider easing off a touch.

Lap 2 – Some pacing and conversation with a young guy who, upon hearing I am from Duluth, asks about the Wild Duluth races. I believe I have him sold on entering by the end of the loop. On the lollipop I see Lisa still gliding along and Shelly, running well in her first long race after recovering from ankle surgery. But where is Leslie? Ah, there she is – blowing by me from behind as we approach the lap finish. Quick mental math tells me she has finished the 25K comfortably under 2 hours. Very solid. I turn the corner at 2 h, 20 min. Hmm. At least I'm consistent.

Lap 3 – I am overtaken by the relay runners, who had started at 9:30 AM. They fly by like a herd of shoppers storming Best Buy on Black Friday. They only run a single lap, and everyone is letting it all hang out. My mind wanders... I actually don't much like loops, save for those fruity sugar bombs offered by Toucan Sam. Or, to be more precise, I'm not crazy about running races that involve multiple loops. Drives me a little stir crazy. I'm hoping not to need a straight-jacket by the end of the race, and am also secretly wishing there were more rocks and roots out here.

I see Liz and Wayne on the lollipop. Wayne had just run a 50-miler last weekend, now he's running a 50K. Perhaps he's the one that needs the straight-jacket. I see Lisa near the finish area, she's improved her finish time over last year by a full 12 minutes – a nice PR upgrade in a 15 mile race. I turn the corner at 3 h, 30 min – another hour and ten, spooky.

Final Lap – The relays are done, as are the 25K folks. The 50K runners soldier silently on in singles and pairs. I'm a bit tired, and a little tight, but not suffering. I hear turkeys in the woods, reminding me that I'm also a bit hungry. Time to put trail steadily behind me with the satisfaction of knowing I will not have to see it again today.

The throngs of people at the finish that had turned out to support the relays and 25K are all gone. I cross the quiet finish line at 4 h, 50 min and am quite pleased. Later on they call my name for age group winner hardware – an unexpected surprise, given the rarity of such occurrences. Marcus (in bare feet), Wayne and Shelly finish in turn, each appearing to have rather enjoyed themselves - or at least that's the story I'm going with unless they tell me different. ;)

Nice run, on a nice day – but now I think it's time to head for the hills...