My wife doesn’t believe me when I tell her that I don’t think about a whole lot during a marathon. With all the free hours I have, Kristin thinks I am having deep philosophical discussions with myself, solving world problems like hunger and war, or at the very least listening to a few good books on tape. I tell her a brain transcript would be more like, “shoe . . . asphalt . . . tree . . . cloud . . . shoe . . . runner.” And that’s about an hour’s worth.

I just don’t think about much while I am running. I am a runner who zones out, as opposed to those who have lengthy conversations or those who cheer for quiet spectators. At the finish line, it is more images than words that I remember. Therefore, any description from me about a race is going to be a short story, maybe a hundred words or so. But that’s OK. Voluminous tomes about marathons have their place in the world; so does the short story. Here are a few.

SILICON VALLEY 1999 A curious and unexpected decision to run a marathon. Six months to train, starting from a sedentary lifestyle. The very first run, one mile, exhausts me. Slowly the mileage builds, tracked on a computer spreadsheet. The race comes on Halloween, and I run between mostly empty office parks with costume-clad lunatics. At the halfway point, I’m feeling good and call out to a supporter that I’ll beat my expected time. Then, a few miles later, I bonk, at just about the distance of my longest training run. The last 10K is a straight shot down a busy road with way too many cars. I finish in 4:35, mostly pleased, and 47 pounds lighter than six months earlier.

SILICON VALLEY 2000 I swore I would never do it again, and to prove myself right, I don’t run much after the marathon. Time masks the pain and brightens the memories, however,

and eventually I’m thinking of repeating. Most of the sophomore problems surface: too little training and cheap shoes to save money. During the race, I wear free socks from the expo. And I try to run with someone who is faster. The empty office parks are again uninspiring, spectators are sporadic, and traffic is crowded and angry. The problems start at mile eight. Too much walking almost leads to a DNF at the halfway point, but I soldier on and finish in 5:17.

Totally displeased with the last race and unwilling to wait a year to redeem myself, I search for another race. Nothing is close enough to let me sleep in my own bed the night before the race, but Napa is only an hour away. Slightly downhill course sounds encouraging. Race weekend ar- ▲ Seconds from the Silicon Valley Marathon finish line rives cold and wet and windy. in 2001, the author shares a delirious grin . . . evidence Bus ride to the start not fun for of a new PR. an antisocial curmudgeon. I’m soaked before we start. I imagine the scenery is beautiful but spend most of the time looking at the ground. The race ends in 4:39, and after a cup of soup, we are quickly in the car and heading home.

SILICON VALLEY 2001 Running has become a bit of a habit. I learn that having a marathon paid for is the best motivation for getting out regularly. Returning to the scene of my worst race, I aim for improvement more than enjoyment. The expo is shrinking each year at this race, and the starting line seems less populated as well. The course is the same, the weather is helpful, and I feel more focused, as if I know for the first time what I am doing and why I am doing it. Short walking breaks keep me stronger at the end, and I set a PR. By one minute!

Photo by Lisa Lacasia

NAPA VALLEY 2001

NAPA VALLEY 2002 I stay with what I am familiar with, but for the first time I travel and run on my own. The Wine Country calls me back, and in a fit of miserliness I opt for the bare accommodations of my father-in-law’s old Chevy van. Sleeping in the parking lot of the host hotel is one of my stupider decisions, though I do get a nice marathon T-shirt from the sympathetic concierge. Race morning is bitterly cold. Fingertips feel almost frostbitten. A bad night’s sleep and no one to run to at the finish line combine for a 5:01, my second-worst race. Note to self: buy some running gloves!

NAPA VALLEY 2003 A year goes by. I skip my old friend the Silicon Valley Marathon for a family vacation. I immediately feel bad about missing it and sign up for two races early in the new year. Napa, the first, seems like a logical choice. After the debacle in the van, I opt for two two-room suites for Kristin, our three kids, and my sister. The whole weekend is more enjoyable, and I am aware of the beautiful countryside more than the last two times we ventured here. I remain mostly quiet during the race, other than muttering a quick thank-you for volunteered fluids. A fairly slow 4:52.

BIG SUR 2003 The second race I signed up for was Big Sur, another race within an hour or so of home. The drive is so nice we go to the expo Friday afternoon for the regular party favors plus the all-important Big Sur shuttle ticket, then back home, then out to the coast at 3:00 A.M. Sunday. The race is, of course, phenomenal. Hurricane Point beats me up, but the final rolling hills are worse. I stagger to the ground shortly after my 4:55 finish, muttering obscenities about “never doing that again.” I think I mean any race, but what marathoner can be trusted at the finish line?

SAN FRANCISCO 2003 I want to run again, but not travel far. San Francisco beckons from about 50 miles away. I can spend the night before at my sister’s and have a very pleasant 30-minute drive to where I can park at the start/finish. I enjoy loop courses better than point to point, being able to skip the forced social experiment known better as the shuttle ride to the start! The outside expo is a first. Race morning dawns clear and with a good forecast. Fisherman’s Wharf, Ocean Boulevard, Haight/Ashbury, PacBell Park, Bay Bridge, and other attractions a Bay Area native should be able to identify, but I can’t. I should get out more. The morning warms, my energy wanes, and my time (4:43) is average.

LAKE TAHOE 2003 Further challenges call. I appear to still be punishing myself for running only one marathon in ’02. Lake Tahoe, where we frequently vacation, would be very challenging but beautiful. A Saturday morning start requires abandoning work for a couple of days. Oh well! The kids love the expo in the casino; the flashing lights and ringing bells are very exciting. The race has an early start for walkers, so as a runner who walks, I use it, and for a while I’m in third place. Then I fade for the next four hours. One hill from hell, but at 6,200 feet elevation, it is all a bit hellish. Done at 5:08, faster than sea-level ’n’ flat Silicon Valley!

CALIFORNIA INTERNATIONAL MARATHON 2003 Fifth race this year, as many as the last four years combined! The race is often advertised at many marathon expos, so I decide to venture to the California International Marathon in Sacramento, California. I am told it is known for granting many PRs, and that is what I seek. A friend who lives mere minutes from the start provides lodging. My kids run the 2.62-mile race while I am out on the course. Reaching mile 20 in 3:00, I continue on and am surprised as I approach the Capitol just past four hours. The family almost misses my spectacular finish because no one predicted 4:09.

NAPA VALLEY 2004 I can’t seem to rid myself of Napa. Even when I am sure I will skip it, the date draws near, and the memories return, and I sign up once again. I want to run the gentle course that ambles between wineries. I want to hear the boisterous crowds that are interspersed at the junction of access roads, even though they cheer mostly for the purple team. If I am close enough, I pretend they cheer for me. Our accommodations, far away to save money (I swear this is the last time I’ll do that), do not impede a Napa PR and second-fastest overall: 4:33.

BIG SUR 2004 Something about the nature of Big Sur selling out months in advance challenges me to be one of the lucky ones who get to compete. Because I am later to the expo this year, I get one of the earlier, and less-popular, bus rides. The alarm goes off at 3:15, and for just a moment I think I am insane. Then, like any unstable person, I create my own sanity. The release of doves at the start is a nice touch. Lots of cheering at the relay transition points and at the Taiko drums and at the grand piano at the top of a hill. Many runners stop to take pictures of the coast. They stop? In this worsening heat? For 4:39, I run and walk, but do not stop.

LAKE TAHOE 2004 Definitely a creature of habit, once I run a marathon, I usually repeat at some point. (Not SF this year, though, because I was climbing Mount Whitney.) I’m returning to Lake Tahoe with a friend, Kurtis Kalivoda, a fast runner of shorter races. He plans on running the half-marathon, while I’ll do the full. But somehow I mess up the shuttle information, and I miss my ride to the start on the north shore. Kurtis’s shuttle is available, and the half shares the finish line at Pope Beach, so instead I run the 13.1-mile race. Some might consider this a DNF, or at least a DNS. I do not.

LAS VEGAS 2005

Photo by Dick Gatts

Ah, Sin City. My in-laws had moved to Las Vegas and were ready to grant me a room of my own. This is my first marathon outside of California, so I begin the long process of joining the 50 States Club. Father-in-law drives me far out of town in the same Chevy van (from Napa ’02) and thinks I’m nuts to be trying to run back. There’s a nice downhill section after the first hour or so, but the head winds are frightful. Windy and dusty. It feels like a terrible performance, but 4:47 is within my typical range. The race never enjoys the spectacle of Vegas, but after many years, this is the last running on the old course. No others shall suffer my fate!

▲ At Las Vegas ’05, the author displays his terribly unskilled use of Mylar wrap while spitting out nearly five hours of dust.

NAPA VALLEY 2005 One of the nice things about the Napa Valley Marathon is the associated 5K. At the ages of 14, 12, and 11, my kids are better runners, age adjusted of course, than I have ever been. The Napa goody bag remains the best in the business, and this year has morphed into a backpack, very useful but occasionally embarrassing with the apparently nude runners stitched into the decal. My fifth Napa settles into a comfortable routine, and I know the turns, the mild hills, the wineries, the sign that says “this driveway is not a toilet,” the bridge, and the neighborhoods. 4:36, mere minutes off my Napa PR.

BIG SUR 2005

Photo by Aimee Kalivoda

I continue to drag Kurtis out of his Wharf-to-Wharf comfort zone (a six-mile race on the California coast). This will be his first marathon. I act all high and mighty, because after all, this is my third time at Big Sur, my 15th marathon overall. Who better to guide him on his inaugural marathon path? The helpful knowledge I can impart really doesn’t extend much past the expo, however, and where to eat the night before. Training is Kurtis’s forte; it is my weakness. We stay together for about 10 miles, and I begin to fall behind as we approach Hurricane Point. My race goes better than expected, and I arrive at the finish line at 4:15, surprising Kurtis and our wives.

▲ Kurtis Kalivoda (left) and the author, celebrating a much more civilized half-marathon in the inaugural Rock ‘n’ Roll San Jose Half in 2006.

WATERFALLS OF BIG BASIN 2005 I realize early this year that I was running nearly a marathon each month, so I set a new goal of running nearly a marathon each month! To heighten the variety, I choose the Waterfalls of Big Basin trail marathon for May. Not much harder than a road race, right? Wrong. Much harder. Much smaller as well, as a grand total of seven runners are at the start! The course is a 5.5-mile loop followed by two trips around a 10.5-mile loop. Finishing my second loop at just over three and a half hours, I decide to throw in the towel and convert myself to a contestant in the 16-mile race. DNF? I’ll be the judge of that.

SILICON VALLEY 2005 The return to the long-distance run after an ankle injury in June. I had skipped the Silicon Valley Marathon in ’02, the race organizers cancelled it in ’03, and in ’04, I ran the 5K with my kids on marathon Sunday. A new course, taking the race primarily to a paved creek trail very near my home, provided additional incentive to return. Marginally uphill for the first half and then back down the same trail. Participation still seemed low. Kurtis joins me for his second marathon, and he lugs me along the course until he loses me at about 10 miles (again). Nevertheless, 4:34 was an SV PR and fourth fastest overall.

CALIFORNIA INTERNATIONAL MARATHON 2005 My enthusiasm for running postinjury continues, as does my affection for known races. Hoping for another good CIM finish and dreaming of some day qualifying for Boston (though with current times I am either one hour or 20 years away from that fantasy), I visit Sacramento again. For the third time this year, Kurtis has sought out a marathon, and once again he trounces my 4:22, but have I mentioned he is 18 years younger? The race itself is frigid. First time I’ve worn gloves the whole time. The best idea to come out of this one was arranging for a later checkout, and a bathtub soak, at the hotel. Ah.

ROCK ’N’ ROLL ARIZONA 2006 Further pursuit of 50 States membership and a weekend away from the kids. My wife and I begin what we hope is a new tradition: an annual trip to somewhere new. She, a wannabe traveler, could see somewhere new, and I could run somewhere new. The plan had a little to please everyone. (She also hopes some day we’ll go international!) The Rock ’n’ Roll Arizona Marathon is my first foray into the world of megamarathons. Just about every other race to this point had only a few thousand runners, or a few hundred, or seven. The race is supremely well organized, the start is a city unto itself, the course is visually rich, and the 4:47 finish is within reason.

▲

The author resting against the most supportive and understanding of wives at the Rock ‘n’ Roll Arizona Marathon finish line.

Maintaining our tradition of nice accommodations in Napa, but being too late for a suite at our usual place, we settle on an inn we had seen but never visited. It was fairly booked up as well but had one room left, “the best one in the place!” we were told. It exceeds expectations and has its own entrance to the pool! A couple of free glasses of wine at the expo cajole me into signing up for Tahoe ’06, the earliest I’ve ever signed up for any race. The rain from 2001 returns. It was light but consistent. For the first time, I have an extended conversation with another runner. Perhaps I am growing up? A steady pace produces another Napa PR: 4:17.

BIG SUR 2006 A severely wet winter in Northern California, giving a nice soak to the aforementioned Napa, gives me a few worries about Big Sur this year. But the day dawns overcast with no threat of rain. Waking at 3:15 still seems like a strange thing to do. There is plenty of room to wait at the start, and the stroll onto Highway 1 is pleasant. My pace is consistent, and I hit the two-hour mark and three-hour mark about where I should be. Then the haze clears, the sun shines, and I fall apart: not so much a bonk, but my legs are lead. 4:44 is still better than my first Big Sur when I was three years younger.

LAKE TAHOE 2006 I’ve been downsizing up at the Lake of the Sky for a few years. After the ’03 full and ’04 shuttle-mishap half, I ran the 5K last year with two of my kids. It was

Photo by Dick Gatts

NAPA VALLEY 2006

time to return to the big event. For the first time, I decided to actually listen in on some expo speakers and was pleased to hear Pam Reed speak of her 301-mile endeavor and Sam Thompson talk about running 51 marathons in 50 states (plus D.C.) in 50 days. My own 50 States membership is in dire straits unless I start adding at least a couple a year. On Saturday, I run three minutes faster than three years ago! And, as I well remember “the hair of the dog” from my drinking days, I run the 5K on Sunday as a chaser.

SILICON VALLEY 2006 If I’m going to run this often, it is stupid not to run a marathon that starts just a few minutes from my front porch. So, as another notch in my fall ’06 running schedule, I run my fifth SVM. It is my sixth race weekend in a row involving seven events: 10K, marathon, 5K, half-marathon, 16-mile trail run, 10K, and this one. At least a couple have resulted in WMRs (World Matt Records). I keep checking the Boston Web page, which still has its own criteria, allowing nothing for WMRs. Finishing in 4:14 is either admirable or it is not, but it is an SVM PR by 20 minutes. Even so, this race is really nothing more than a training run for the big run that lies just six days ahead, the . . .

HELEN KLEIN 50-MILE 2006 I have met Helen Klein at the Napa Valley Marathon expo. I’ve seen her run the Lake Tahoe Triple (another goal of mine, the likes of which include running Boston, running the 50 states, and curbing my astonishing appetite for tacos). I heard of her namesake race last year, and after 12 months of hemming and hawing, I signed up. I wish I could blame it on the ease of Internet transactions. But no, I had to actually write a check and post a stamp. I have no one to blame but myself. This being a 50-miler and my first ultra, I suppose the short story has to expand itself a bit.

After mile nine, my crew (wife and kids) leapfrogs me every three or four miles, except for 13 lonely miles right in the middle. It strikes me at the turnaround that this is just about marathon distance, and I have no business trying to return now to the starting point. The audacity! The temerity! The idiocy! Perhaps, though, the body knows what is expected at the start, and mile 25 of this race is no different from mile 13 of a marathon. This is such a well-organized and well-stocked race that I’m sure I’ll be back, yet Kristin claims I insisted at mile 31 that she never let me do such a thing again. But she has heard that before. Ten hours and six minutes, all told. First time I’ve ever done anything for 10 hours in a row, including sleeping.

ROUTE 66 MARATHON 2006 Something about the advertisements in this very magazine caught my fancy. I persuaded my sister to skip her Thanksgiving preparations and join me in Tulsa.

It is my first inaugural marathon, but the organizers clearly know what they’re doing. Saturday morning is bitterly cold, but Sunday dawns slightly warmer, and of course the running seems to help. Back and forth over the Arkansas River, down and back a lengthy stretch of riverfront parkway, and GU handouts from overly dressed Hooters’ girls at mile 20 (don’t tell my wife!). Fantastic nachos at the finish are my favorite postrace food so far (with apologies to the Helen Klein Thanksgiving meal). Perhaps the lure of the food inspires the 4:10 performance, missing a PR by 18 seconds.

CALIFORNIA INTERNATIONAL MARATHON 2006 Race mileage has been over the top this fall. I’ve never run this much, let alone raced this regularly. Two of my fastest marathons have been in the last few weeks, sandwiched around a 50-miler. What’s going on? Do I dare plan an assault on a course known for PRs, a course I know reasonably well? Of course I dare! I err in regard to the prerace dinner and consume copious amounts of crab dip and shrimp scampi. My stomach rebels, and the first few miles are queasy. Note to spectators: refrain from saying “nice stride,” because as the blood flow to our cogitation center decreases, it sounds an awful lot like “nice try,” which isn’t helpful. Nevertheless, an astounding improvement results in my first sub-four: 3:58:09. Boston remains elusive.

AUSTIN MARATHON 2007 After some winter 10Ks with my kids, I venture out on my own again. I figure if I can’t have Boston, perhaps I can find a race that sounds like Boston if I mumble. We take a family vacation during a week off school and do the tourist thing in Texas. State number five! Fireworks at the start seem to startle the Congress Avenue Bridge bats, which swoop menacingly through the morning sky. This could be the reverse of blood doping. The “live music capital” of the country certainly offers more harmonicas per mile than any rock ’n’ roll race. Early on, the race passes a clever little shop called The Glassy Knoll, miles seven to 17 move steadily upward, and sporadic hills later take their toll. During the 4:21 I’m out there, spectators shout, “Go, Matthew!” but I don’t realize they’re talking to me. Got to remember to register as Matt if they’re going to print my name on the bib. Best news: I can now tell everyone, “I ran b . . . Austin!”

LESSONS I believe long-distance short stories lend themselves to short lessons. Each has a moral, something I can take from it to better my future races, and the mantra of putting them all together is a lot like my mind when I run. On a good run, which

Photo provided by MarathonFoto

▲ The solitary and antisocial author, proving it is possible to run for over four and a half hours without thinking or talking about much. Big Sur ’06 . . . road . . . fog . . . feet . . . miles . . . coast.

can be good regardless of the finish time, the chant is familiar: “Street . . . air . . . people . . . shoe . . . water . . . sky.” If problems crop up a bit, the mantra modifies: “Accommodations . . . tree . . . hill . . . runner . . . time . . . crowd . . . hot.”

When things are bottoming out, which thankfully they haven’t since my disastrous 2000 Silicon Valley, the chant might go something like this: “Breathe . . . help . . . training . . . pain . . . walk . . . never . . . gasp . . . again.”

Kristin still doesn’t believe that so little can go through my head for so long. She has threatened to force me to run with a voice recorder so she can really know what is going on out there. I’ve told her she could come out with me and see for herself, but thus far she has declined to do so. In the meantime, I will continue to consider the many lessons I have learned, and I will pick and choose to focus on whatever factors strike me at the time. If I choose wisely, perhaps a PR? If I choose poorly, oh well, I shall live to run another day.