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<4 Approaching a crew stop along scenic Route 42.

deliver the news that it was unlikely he would be able to run on his shin in time for the Ohio run.

As we entered the final week before the run, it became apparent that the tendinitis in Nick’s shin would indeed prevent him from running. While Nick was hoping to move the date of the run, Cory and I felt that if we didn’t continue as planned, there would be too much risk of it not happening in the future. I felt uneasy about the fact that Nick wasn’t going to take part in the run, as it was his idea from the start, but Cory and I were committed at this point. So we made the drive up to Cleveland on July 3.

We woke up before sunrise on the fourth to begin our journey. After taking a few photos outside of the Cleveland Browns’ Stadium, we headed south on US 42. Cory and I had decided that a 9- to 10-minute-per-mile pace should be reasonable to keep up all day. We ran through the empty streets of downtown Cleveland as the sun started to come up. It was smooth sailing, and we got into a rhythm of meeting up with the crew van every five miles or so to refuel.

As the tall buildings of downtown faded, miles of strip malls replaced them and people began to emerge from their houses. Just as we counted the eighth martial arts studio we had passed by, I began to feel a little queasy. Figuring that I just needed more calories, I decided to try eating some Ramen noodles made on our portable camp stove. Unfortunately, more food was not what I needed, and so my slow decline into misery started before we had reached the 20-mile mark. It was Mohican all over again.

Off to a very bad start

I tried taking a few naps and walking to see if I could settle my stomach, but nothing seemed to work. It was not supposed to go like this. At the right pace, by keeping my heart rate down, I should have been OK. I finally told Cory that I didn’t want to hold him up all day and that I was going to sit out the second half

of the day. Thirty-two miles into the run, and I had to call it quits. I was frustrated and disheartened to know that I would miss a portion of the run and leave Cory to run on his own. Considering that he was already six miles past his distance PR, he was not incredibly thrilled at the prospect of running more than another marathon that day by himself. However, I knew that if I didn’t get things turned around by that evening, the next three days were not going to happen. Cory had a strong finish to the day, ending in Ashland, the home of Grandpa’s Cheesebarn, while my dad kept him company on his bicycle.

The 4:00 a.m. alarm signaled our tired bodies that it was the start of day two. We picked up an additional runner and crew member, Mike Taylor, who works with George and Robin at Front Runner. Mike’s friend Kip also came up to support us and crew for Mike as he ran. Kip had a double-lung transplant several years ago as part of his lifelong battle against cystic fibrosis. It was great having a third runner, and we kept the pace nice and slow to begin with, more like 11 to 12 minutes per mile this time. I changed my nutrition strategy by going with more of a liquid diet and taking a few Tums throughout the day to keep the stomach acid at bay. Once we got through the town of Mansfield, the scenery turned to beautiful rolling country roads. We counted the number of dead animals (mostly possums) and eventually lost track as there were so many. Our spirits were high

Courtesy of Steve Zeidner

<4 Cory, stretching and rolling his IT band to manage the pain.

and the conversation was flowing. Mike ran 40 miles, a distance PR for him, and George drove up to run the last 25 miles of the day with us.

About halfway through the day, Cory’s knee began to bother him. It seemed like it could be a tight IT band, so he spent some time stretching and rolling it out on the side of the road. Once it was stretched out, it didn’t seem to hinder his running much, so we figured it was nothing to worry about until it came back for the last 10 or 15 miles. The sun was setting as George, Cory, and I approached the Delaware County sheriff’s station, our designated end point for the day. Cory was happy to see the finish for the day, and I was simply ecstatic that I had been able to run an entire day with no stomach problems. Since we were close enough to our homes in Columbus, we decided to catch a few hours of sleep in our own beds and regroup in the morning.

We had not slept much over the past couple of nights as our daily schedule went something like: get up around 4:00-4:30 a.M., start running by 5:30, finish running for the day by 8:30-9:00 p.m., grab some dinner and a shower, and be in bed before midnight. Rinse and repeat.

More complications

Because we were driving a little farther to stay at home Friday night and were switching vehicles and crew for Saturday, we didn’t get started until 6:30 Saturday morning. Cory was still feeling pretty sore and suggested we walk for a mile or so. We walked through historic downtown Delaware and then tried to ease back into running. Cory’s knee was in enough pain that he could not run more than a few steps at a time, so we figured that we would just walk until things loosened up. Unfortunately, they only got worse. Rain clouds began to roll in as we walked south toward Plain City. Cory tried a few different braces and a lot of Bengay, hoping that if something in his knee was moving around, a little support would give him the ability to keep running. This solution provided temporary relief, but after 10 miles of misery, Cory decided he would spend some time in the van stretchPm Running with Nick, Erica, Chad, and other friends made the miles fly by.

ing and icing and later join me where he was able. We were both disappointed. Cory had reached a point where he knew he was not going to be able to finish much of the run, and I felt bad for him that he wouldn’t be able to complete his goal. I was also looking at two days of mostly running alone and hoping my stomach would be kind to me.

There was no reason to worry. About 20 miles into the day, we made it to the Der Dutchman Restaurant in Plain City, where we were welcomed by many friends and family who had come out to run with us and cheer us on. Nick and his wife, Erica, were at the restaurant as well, and we exchanged some hurried hellos. I asked if they were up for running a bit, and they both said they were if I was interested in the company. Of course! It was a good chance to talk about how the run had played out and how it was nowhere close to how we had planned it. Nick’s shin was healing but still was not in a condition to run any kind of long distance on it. The miles together helped to heal any misunderstandings we had going into the run.

As evening approached, my brother finished running an eight-mile section with me, and my dad joined me on his bike for the last 20 of the day. I picked up the pace as much as I could to reach Cedarville soon after dark. Cory was disappointed with how the day had ended but resolved that he would finish the run by crewing and jumping in to run any distance that he was able. I slept well that night, knowing that there were less than 65 miles to cover before reaching the finish line in downtown Cincinnati.

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Growing fatigue versus the miles left

Starting off a few miles with Cory in the morning, I could feel the fatigue in my legs and feet, and with every step the pain grew worse. I knew it was only temporary suffering, and I was thankful just to be moving forward. Unfortunately,