Running – Page 3 – My Second Running Life

Vancouver Marathon – 2015 to 2025

What follows is a story separated by exactly ten years—and a generation.

The Opening Act

The marathon was never my favourite distance, but over the decades of my amateur running career, I ran plenty of them. It was a love-hate thing. By 2014, I had sworn off marathons, and not for the first time. Then, I let myself be talked into signing up for the 2015 Vancouver race. I’ll leave the specifics of that part of the story for another time.

I had run the Vancouver Marathon once before, in 1993. I finished the race one minute on the wrong side of 3 hours, and I remember being quite disappointed. Why? Well, 1992 had been a year of personal bests. Naturally, I came into 1993 full of optimism. After the Vancouver race, I worried that I might have already peaked. And that was more than 30 years ago!

Heading into the 2015 race, I had been through a minor crisis of confidence. You see, I’d run a very poor Around the Bay Race in March 2014, and I was finding the preparation for a spring marathon during another of our nasty Calgary winters more than I could handle. All credit goes to my awesome training partners, Allison B and Ken S, who kept me going week in and week out. They deserve kudos for helping get me to the start line on May 3, 2015.

As for my race tactics, I had worked out a novel plan with coach Janice. The idea was to get me around the deceptively tough Vancouver course while avoiding the slow-motion crashes I’d experienced in some previous marathons. We decided on a series of four mid-race pickups, each 3k with a 1k easy recovery. Janice knew me well enough to realize that a series of tasks would help keep my mind from wandering.

I had modest expectations. I could foresee some challenges on the 2015 course—still in use today—which was very different from the route I’d run years before. The first ten kilometres were mostly downhill. There was the Burrard Bridge at 30k. Of course, there was the 42.2k distance to contend with.

Our race plan worked like a charm. The 3k pickups were effective, and I got to 38k before my quads seized up—no doubt the price to be paid for the early downhills. Being a veteran of four decades, I didn’t panic. Instead, I managed my effort over the last few kilometres. Afer all, it was only a few minutes until the finish. Worst case, I might be a little outside my target range.

I finished in 3:18:04. Not bad. My age-graded time was the same as my PB, set many years earlier. It was a satisfying outing, and a prelude to the eventful years that followed. Again, I’ll leave those details for another time.

Daniel Delivers!

Fast forward ten years… to the best part of this story.

By the spring of 2025, our son Daniel had been a serious runner for at least 12 years. He ran his first marathon in Montreal, in 2014. Even as a rookie he methodically attacked the distance. In the intervening years, he’s taken on many different running challenges. The last couple of years have been especially rewarding for him. He’s been honing his technique and working on strength, speed and flexibility. So, when he set his sights on the 2025 Vancouver race, it was with the goal of improving his PB… significantly.

All signs were positive during his training cycle, and a speedy 1:12 half marathon in April hinted at something special. He overcame a niggling overuse injury to make it to the start line in Queen Elizabeth Park on May 4, 2025.

Major marathons now feature online tracking for spectators. As a result, it was a nervous morning for Deborah and me, as we watched the little dot that represented Dan work its way around the course. It seemed that I was reliving every step with him, through Pacific Spirit Park and the UBC campus (where he reached the half in 1:15:44), then through Kitsilano, over the Burrard Bridge and into Stanley Park for a lap of the seawall.

Dan’s early splits were speedy, but by 30k he seemed to be slowing. Was there a problem? We could only watch and wait, holding our breath. Once he got to 40k in 2:27:16, everything was looking good for a superb finish. He brought it home in 2:35:52. By that point I was yelling encouragement at my phone. He placed 21st overall in a strong field of nearly 7,000 runners. Amazing!

Here are some pictures from his awe-inspiring run (all from Marathon Photos):

When we talked to him shortly after he finished, he was full of energy, relief and joy. He had been cheerleading with the crowds along the route. And his apparent slowdown? He had the presence of mind to ease off his pace slightly at 24k, to avoid aggravating his calf. Not only fast running but smart too!

It’s hard to find words to express what I’ve been feeling this week. Of course, I’m filled with awe and pride, as I consider what Dan has accomplished. Seeing my son reach a personal goal with determination and purpose makes me very happy. I know he earned this result—including the massive 15-minute improvement in his PB. Being a runner myself, I have a good idea how hard he worked for this. Running 2:35 puts him in the top 1 percent of marathon runners. I have often said he’s never set a foot wrong in his life, and that was perhaps never truer than in this race.

I wrote about the relative arc of our lives in Stroke of Luck, and while I may eventually think of something more profound to say, for now, I’m just relieved he finished and that he did so well. While I understand that a small part of this might be attributed to lessons he learned from me—from us—early in his life, this triumph is all his doing. If life were a relay race, I would be content knowing that the handoff has been made and the baton is safely headed to the finish.

And that might be an apt analogy, as the next challenge Dan will tackle is the annual Cabot Trail Relay on May 24, with a team called the Iron Lungs out of Toronto. He has run the race with them several times, and they (like us) know he will be a worthy addition to their squad.

We can’t wait to see what’s next for him.

Until next time, be well and BE FAST!

Boston Marathon Musings

I’m looking forward to visiting Cafe Books in beautiful Canmore in a few weeks, for an in-store book event.

If you can make it on May 17, I’d love to see you there, for a chat about running, my stroke journey, and of course, my book!

Speaking of running, I’ve almost let the week go by without a blog post, but this week—Boston Marathon week—is too special to pass up. A gutsy performance by one of my teammates, who demonstrated character by overcoming injuries to finish the race, prompted me to start writing—congratulations Jason!

If there is one road race that stands above all others, it is the Boston Marathon. There are many reasons for this, and it would take much more than one short piece to go through them. I can already see more posts being needed!

Why Boston Matters

Boston is a celebration of tradition and history. The race is a tribute to athletic excellence, with many of the great runners having won in Boston—Tom Longboat, Johnny Miles, Ron Hill, Bill Rodgers, Jerome Drayton. It’s a unique sporting event, where the best professional runners compete on the same road, at the same time, with the most devoted amateurs. The crescendo of support—from the quiet country roads of Ashland, to the enthusiastic women of Wellesley College at the halfway point, to the screaming crowds in Kenmore Square—makes every inch of the route special.

Devotion doesn’t begin to describe what it takes to earn an entry to Boston. Talent, dedication, and good luck are also needed. Then, just to get to the start line in Hopkinton on the third Monday in April takes extraordinary commitment, focused training, and more good luck. Those fortunate enough to reach the historic finish line on Boylston Street will have dealt with one of the most devilish, net downhill, point-to-point race courses anywhere in the world; and unpredictable weather conditions that can include everything from torrential rain to blistering heat.

What all the fuss is about… the Boston Marathon route and elevation map

Some context might be helpful. Today, running a marathon is seen by many beginners as part of a natural progression, as an achievement that lets someone call themselves a runner. (That isn’t true, by the way.) For many years, the 42.195km distance was the domain of the sport’s fringe players: tough, sinewy, hard men. Yes, they were almost all men. And while it may have been debated, the Boston Marathon was at, or at least near, the pinnacle of the world’s top marathons.

I think of two eras for the Boston Marathon: pre- and post-1996. You see, 1996 was the 100th anniversary of the race. Compared to prior years, the field that year was huge. Since then, demand for entries has ballooned, as more runners add Boston to their bucket list. To their credit, the Boston Athletic Association (the BAA) found a way to squeeze more runners onto the narrow roads of Route 135 by adding wave starts (and by upping their game on the organization side).

I will add an opinion that may not be popular with some readers. The BAA will never be able to accommodate the demand for entries to this most desirable race. And that is fine with me. Boston has always been (and in my view, should remain) exclusive… it should be an event set aside for those who can earn a place. Opening it up to any and all participants would only dilute what makes the race special.

Personal Connections

I’ve run Boston three times. It’s been such an integral part of my running life—my first running life, that is—that I can’t really remember a time when I didn’t want to run it. Through the 1980s and 1990s, the race was an enigma and a vague aspiration. It was an event that I read about on the back page of the sports section. If I wanted to know more, I would have to dig deep. And I did. But in the days before social media, I had more questions than answers: Where should I even begin? How would I qualify… or enter? My god, assuming I did enter, how would I run the damn thing?

Let’s just say I worked my way up to the race. I call it doing my apprenticeship. Finally, in 2001, for the 105th running, I felt ready to tackle the challenge. It helped that I qualified by a comfortable margin in another of my favourite races, the 2000 Royal Victoria Marathon.

I wrote extensively about my first Boston Marathon experience in Stroke of Luck. It is, quite simply, one of the defining events of my life. My family made the trek to Boston with me, having sacrificed much to make my 25-year dream possible. The race itself was a personal triumph. I planned well and I executed well. I met my optimistic goal by going under three hours. I even put aside my competitive instincts—a little—to smile and wave at the best marathon fans in the world. In short, I finished knowing I had done everything humanly possible to achieve this result. As I said in the book:

“The numbers were impressive and satisfying, but they were only numbers. I was at a loss for words to describe what I was feeling. Years later, I still have trouble. It was exceptional. Momentous. Transcendent. It was everything I had hoped it would be.”

That magical day in April 2001 was the culmination of a long personal journey. I believe that putting substance to my childhood dream, working towards it, and finally achieving it, says more about me than words can ever do.

I’ve been back to run Boston twice more. The experiences were each different and in their own way, worth writing about. There’s no question that for sheer emotional intensity, nothing could compare to the first time I made those famous turns, the ones every Boston finisher will recognize—“right on Hereford, left on Boylston”. Look for more in future posts.

For now, I’ll ride the annual Marathon Monday wave for a little while longer.

Until next time, be well and BE FAST!

Around the Bay – A Personal Journey

When it comes to running history, few races can match Hamilton’s 30k Around the Bay Race. Many greats of the sport have competed in this event since it was first held in 1894, three years before the Boston Marathon. The late Jerome Drayton, one of Canada’s greatest runners, won the race in 1973 and 1974.

It occurs to me that this historic race deserves to have a book written about it. Short of that lofty goal, on this, the eve of the 131st edition of the race, I will add a retrospective piece to share what the “Bay Race” means for me.

The Around the Bay Race

For those unfamiliar with the race, it starts and finishes in downtown Hamilton. The course was measured in imperial units for almost 90 years, before being standardized at 30 kilometres in 1982. To this day, it is one of the few races contested at this distance. It’s a perfect tuneup for anyone planning a spring marathon. Even though the distance has varied, the roughly triangular course has remained the same.

The course has three distinct sections. Really, it’s three distinct personalities. The first 10k skirts Hamilton’s north end, the gritty industrial district that many people associate with the city. The middle third includes a narrow, exposed stretch on Beach Boulevard, between Hamilton Harbour and Lake Ontario. The final 10k through suburban Burlington is notable for rolling hills, which are a test for already tired legs.

As if that wasn’t enough, we must remember that we live in Canada and the race is held the last weekend of March. To state the obvious, weather can be a factor for ATB competitors. (It looks like that might be the case for this year’s edition, but forecasts can be wrong!)

1977 – Into the fray

My personal connection to the ATB goes back to my earliest days in the sport. I first ran the race in 1977, as a novice 16-year-old runner. I wrote extensively about the race in my memoir, Stroke of Luck. Here’s an excerpt:

“That same year, our coach proposed that several of us tackle a unique challenge, the annual Around the Bay Race. Even now it would seem odd to put teenagers through the kind of training needed to attempt this race. His logic was sound—he wanted us to build a base of fitness for the longer track races. … Three of us were signed up for the race. Our training program was simple but surprisingly effective. A couple of times each week, our coach would drive us eight or ten miles from the school and drop us off, and we would run back.”

One of my most vivid running memories is captured in this photo. It was taken by my high school track coach, somewhere along Beach Boulevard. My teammate Mark Orzel and I were battling the elements. Behind us, whitecaps are visible on Lake Ontario. Keen observers might recognize my Tiger Jayhawk racing flats.

According to my handwritten notes on the back of my race bib—showing how much the sport has changed, it’s a stencil on the back of a scrap of floral wallpaper—I would go on to finish in 2:16:19, in 116th place. I was the only one of the three of us to finish. It was a tough day.

Around the Bay, a rich part of Hamilton’s history (Photo: Hamilton Spectator, March 1977)

My impact on the race may have been minimal, but its impact on me was not. In fact, it solidified my growing commitment to the sport. I would go on to try the marathon a few years later and have a lifetime of running adventures after that.

2012 – A virtual showdown

The gap between my first and second ATB race was 35 years. I don’t know where I got the idea to go back and compete against my younger self. Maybe it wasn’t so far-fetched though: Hamilton is my hometown, and I had been a keen follower of the race for years.

The race itself had gone through some lean years in the 1980s and 1990s but was enjoying a renaissance. By the early 2010s, the ATB had pride of place as one of the jewels in the Ontario race calendar. Entries ballooned to the thousands and the 30k race sold out every year. To me, this reflected what was happening to the sport in general, and it was terrific to see.

My plan was to go back and beat my time from 1977. By then, I had decades of running experience. Even though I was a “mature” runner, I thought my chances were good. Quoting again from my book:

“I managed to eke out a small victory in the virtual head-to-head match up, running 2:14:51 but finishing well down in the age group results. As I plodded through the latter stages of the race, I felt myself being transported back to that cold day in March so many years earlier. My exhausted legs seemed to relive every rolling hill on North Shore Boulevard. … I laughed as I ran by a costumed Grim Reaper at the crest of Valley Inn Road who was yelling at us to “D‑I‑E a little out there!” I let this amusing encounter be the beginning of my celebration of this wonderful day. I was overcome by the gamut of emotions. Where had all the time gone?”

It was a momentous day, and not only because I had proven I still had what it took to compete. I treasure the memory of my mother and my sister Carolyn—sadly, both now gone—meeting me at the finish inside the Copps Coliseum. Thinking about them in the context of the race, and the place running has long had in my family, is quite emotional.

2014 – A generation gap opens

Perhaps pushing the envelope of my involvement with the Bay Race, I went back again in 2014. However, this time I had no expectations other than finishing. In fact, the main reason for returning was to share the experience with our son, Daniel. He was rounding into form as a fine runner, and decided he’d like to run this historic race.

I had a tough day. I somehow let myself be psyched out by an adverse race day weather forecast. The thought of howling winds on Beach Boulevard undermined my plans before I’d taken a step. Talk about rookie mistakes! As it happened, race day weather was fine, but by then the damage was done.

The best I can say about the race is that I survived it. Even though I thought I had kept enough in reserve for the rolling hills, they still beat me up. It was a lesson in humility, as I laboured from start to finish. Our ATB rookie, Dan, ran an astonishing 1:54:59. What a performance! I was so proud of him, and I couldn’t wait to see what else he would accomplish.

And me? I was comfortable in the knowledge that I would be an ATB race spectator from then on.

Summing Up

Some races have more impact than others, and Hamilton’s Around The Bay Race is about as impactful as they come. It has a unique place in the history of our sport. It has more than its share of challenges for those brave enough to take it on.

This post has been an opportunity to share a little of my personal connection to the race. I could write so much more!

In short, the Around the Bay Race was instrumental in steering me to a life characterized by dedication to fitness, exploration of my own potential, and fellowship with other runners. It will always be special to me. Maybe that book isn’t such a bad idea…

Until next time, be well and BE FAST!

More BUMP and Run

We had a brief return to winter weather last week, which was a good excuse for me to dig through more Beltline mural pictures. This piece is not a lesson in how to hit a “bump and run”… a crafty shot that will be familiar to golfers… it’s a mash-up of pictures from several recent photo runs.

Like the first post in this series, I scouted out Beltline Urban Mural Project (BUMP) murals and did background research on the artists. Routes for all my urban photo runs are “organic”… dictated by red lights, convenient turns, and whatever street scenes catch my eye.

This post highlights murals in the large area from 17th Avenue SW to the downtown core. There are so many pieces in this area, with more coming in 2025, that there will certainly be more posts in the future.

Some of my favourites:

Seeroro (Carolyn Wong, @seeroro_ ) is a Chinese-Canadian artist from Vancouver. “Euphoria” is a colourful, three-sided mural inspired by the Tortoise and Hare folktale and the year of the water rabbit in the lunar calendar. Wong’s mural is tucked in between the buildings at 625 11 Avenue SW. Well worth the search!
birdO (Jerry Rugg, @jerryrugg ) is a multidisciplinary artist based in Toronto. He is well-known for large-scale murals on walls and buildings. His spectacular untitled piece at 441 5th Avenue SW is of a peregrine falcon, with the city skyline reflected in the bird’s eye. I’ve photographed this piece often.
Fluke ( @fluke.art ) is based in Montreal. His work as a street artist has roots in graffiti going back to the mid-1990s. Working with photographers, Fluke merges street art and contemporary imagery to create his pieces. His untitled mural on the west face of 1039 17th Avenue SW was glowing in the setting sun when I shot my photo.
Hanna Reimer ( @hannaclare ) is a Treaty 1 artist from Winnipeg, whose works emphasize texture and pattern. Hanna’s interest in fabric was the inspiration for her mural at 739 11 Avenue SW. She chose colours and patterns to make the wall appear to be flowing like sheer fabric. I found the juxtaposition with the angular Cybertruck jarring, but too good to pass up.

And a few more:

While I was thinking about murals, I paged through my files and came up with more pictures and stories. These fall a bit outside the topic of this post as they weren’t taken “on the run”, but that’s okay.

In 2019, I was walking around the Beltline with a newly repaired Voigtlander Vitessa T. I had picked the camera up on eBay with low expectations. It was 70 years old and non-operational. The camera is unique: it’s a rangefinder, and it has a plunger instead of the usual film advance lever. (Perhaps not surprisingly, this is a weak element of the design. It’s probably why this feature didn’t find its way into other cameras!) Fortunately, I found a fellow in Calgary who patiently (and cheaply) sourced the required spring to get it going again.

My first shots with the Voigtlander were of the multicultural artist Fathima Mohiuddin ( @fatspatrol ), as she was finishing her mural at 708 11 Avenue SW. We chatted for a few minutes and I took photos of her in front of the mural. It’s in her signature graphic style, and it’s awesome!

I had no idea if I’d get anything out of the Vitessa, but I was very happy with the result. I never saw Fathima again, so I hope she will see this picture.

The following pictures were taken within a minute of each other. I had been walking around 17th Avenue SW with my Ricoh GR III, on the lookout for interesting people or street scenes. On that day, I remember being disappointed that I had not seen much that caught my eye.

I walked down 13th Street, past the alley behind Calgary Jewellery, and snapped a quick shot of a fellow walking by Alex Kwong‘s huge (and hugely impressive) 2021 piece. Unfortunately, I don’t have many details about the mural. It doesn’t appear to be part of the BUMP series. Alex has done other pieces around the city, including a couple for BUMP. Check out his website and Instagram ( @_alexkwong ).

After I snapped this picture I turned onto 17th Avenue, and I noticed a stylish guy approaching me. An obvious picture was coming together… I just had to wait for him to pass in front of the colourful mural at 1137 17th Avenue SW. The bright elements in the mural complement his confident personal style.

In my research, I learned that the mural is by Calgary artist Toner ( @bravotoner ). The piece is titled Companion and it was painted in 2020. I realized I wasn’t being totally fair to Toner by having the best part of his mural obscured, so I went back and photographed it on its own to reveal a beautiful parrot. Here’s the whole image. Nice work Toner!

“Companion” by Toner, 1137 17th Avenue SW, painted in 2020

An interesting fact is that Toner and Kwong have collaborated on pieces around the city. I’ll be back soon with more in my next post.

Until then, be well and BE FAST!

Tribute to Gord Hobbins

We heard yesterday that Gord Hobbins had passed away. Deb and I are gutted by the news. The Calgary running community has lost one of its greatest supporters, and we’ve lost a friend of many years. It will take a long time to come to terms with his loss.

Coincidentally, Deb and I were walking near Gord’s Running Store a few days ago. We hadn’t been in that part of town for a while. As we passed the familiar storefront, tucked in a strip mall just off Centre Street NW, we chatted about him. I mentioned that the store was celebrating its 35th anniversary. Gord’s Instagram account had been featuring photos from the 1990s, when the hair was longer and the running shorts were shorter. Okay, too short. We had a laugh about that and recounted a few of our many stories about Gord. But our time was limited and we decided not to drop in. Now I wish we had.

My connection to the local running scene goes back more than three decades. We moved here in 1991, and it would have been shortly after that that I first stepped into Gord’s store. I immediately felt his personal warmth, his enthusiasm for the sport, and his passion for customer service. Of course, Gord’s customers soon became his friends, and that never changed. No matter how long since our previous visit, Gord was the same: genuine, kind, inquisitive. He always took time to chat. Visits to the shop were often stretched, so we could get caught up on each other’s family news. He was totally devoted to Cathy and their kids, Ailsa and Gareth.

Gord coached me for a few years, and he was a natural. He had a hand in preparing me for my first Boston Marathon. His trackside cues at the Talisman Centre… “Steve, relax your shoulders!”… were in my ears on race day in April 2001, and helped me to one of the most memorable achievements of my life. Later, I took up a coaching role in my own club, and Gord was a mentor. When he organized group runs from the store, he was invariably the perfect host, making sure all his sheep got back safely.

Gord and I even shared a similar medical history, having both gone through serious cardiovascular issues. We could each credit a lifetime devotion to the sport we loved for getting us through our unique and challenging episodes.

There was a good reason for the longevity of Gord’s store in the tough retail business: he was the best at what he did. He generously shared his vast knowledge of the latest shoes and running gear. I lost track of the number of times I referred people to him. “Go see Gord,” I would say. “There’s no one who knows more about fitting you for running shoes.”

Gord’s own running resume was impressive too. I first saw his name in race results in Edmonton (his hometown and our first stop in Alberta) in the mid-1980s. At the time, he was running road 10k’s and half marathons. But it would be in ultramarathons that he later made a name for himself.

Gord’s success in ultra trail races was attested to by memorabilia in his store. In fact, the last time I saw him, he told me he was looking forward to completing his collection of carved finisher’s stones from the Lethbridge Lost Soul Ultra. He had run the race many times, so it was no surprise when he finished the 50k in an impressive time last September. (Photo by Mark Moland.)

I’ll miss Gord like a brother. His commitment to the sport ensures his legacy in the Calgary running community. More than that, his passion for making everyone around him better, fitter and happier is what I will remember most. Rest in peace, my friend. We wish his family, friends and staff peace and comfort in the difficult days ahead.

What’s Gone Wrong With Athletics?

I like to keep up with news from the wonderful sport of athletics, but I’ll admit to some recent frustration. I regularly scan the headlines from online sources, having largely given up on print media. I’m always interested in results from major road races and track meets around the world. To a lesser extent, I follow developments in equipment, training techniques and nutrition.

Lately, it seems that all I’ve read about is controversy. Some examples…

Twelve years after the race, competitors in the women’s 1,500m final at the 2012 London Olympics are still being disqualified for doping infractions. The race has been called the “dirtiest of all time”, with five of the 12 racers now banned. Maybe the last three finishers shouldn’t give up hope for a medal yet.
Two competitors in a collegiate 5,000m event were disqualified for wearing shoes that didn’t meet NCAA regulations for “stack height”. One racer set a massive PB in the shoes, the swift-sounding Nike Streakfly 2. If only they’d stuck with the lowly (and lower?) Streakfly 1…
A runner and social media influencer was banned for life from the Chinese Half-Marathon Championships after she was discovered to have worn a fake race bib. Not surprisingly, the perpetrator claimed she had been duped. The race is clearly popular: it received more than 150,000 applications, of which less than 10 percent were accepted.

The dirtiest race in history? (Photo from Daily Mail Online)

The Nike VF2. Too stacked? (Photo from Canadian Running Magazine)

I could go on, but you get the idea. It’s all rather depressing. In my opinion, these stories detract from what I believe is STILL the greatest of sports. Athletics is getting harder to love.

The Problem

I’ll explain what I think the problem is, and it starts at the top echelon of the sport. It’s money. Pure and simple. Athletics has become a big, commercial business. There’s a lot at stake in the Olympics and other major championships. As a result, exciting races and great individual performances (and there are many) frequently get lost in controversy.

Cheating seems to affect athletics more directly than other sports. And I believe that stems from athletics being the most accessible of sports. Comparatively speaking, while none of us will make it to the NHL, any of us can lace up a pair of running shoes and find a road or trail to run on.

The accessibility of running is both good and bad. It’s good because of the health benefits that accrue from an active lifestyle. The negative part is that we can become overly influenced by other people’s opinions about what defines success in this sport. Today, influencers are everywhere. Technology imbues every aspect of the sport: race results are micro-analyzed, every kilometre is measured, workouts are instantly posted to Strava. Heck, our watches even estimate our recovery time… can anyone tell me why this is necessary?

Do I need this? (Photo from Garmin, for the Enduro 3)

All of this creates extraordinary pressure to always be improving. There’s a trickle-down effect, from elite athletes to self-appointed experts to average runners. We can wear the same carbon-plated shoe, use the same GPS watch, and gulp down the same gel as Eliud Kipchoge, while we chase every second in the marathon. And why not? What’s a few hundred bucks for the latest super shoe, if we would gladly spend thousands more once the shoes earn us that elusive race entry we’re seeking? (That reminds me of another recent headline. The 2025 New York Marathon received a record 200,000 applications for lottery entry… that’s up 22 percent from 2024. Good luck!)

I need to emphasize that the vast majority of runners compete fairly, and there is nothing wrong with taking advantage of the available technology. We have to recognize that some will be tempted to cross the line; many more will lose sight of what’s really important.

The Way Forward

A quest for constant improvement and achievement might make sense if we were professional athletes. (Not the doping stuff, of course.) But the fact is, we’re not.

From my perspective, which is that of an average runner… a pure amateur… with his best days behind him, let me offer a few thoughts on how we move on from these challenges.

First, recognizing that most of us will never make it to the top tier of the sport, we should celebrate rather than fight against this reality. To do that, we should define where running fits within our specific life puzzle. How you balance work, family and running is unique to you. Success in the sport should mean different things to different people. Give yourself permission to do your best, to let your performances ebb and flow, and most importantly, be content with the results.

I’ve written about the joy I now get from what I call photo runs… where I swap a GPS watch for a camera. For me, it’s been a way to get back to the carefree days when I took up running as a teenager. Then, I was an open book. I loved the freedom that came with running on a wooded trail or a quiet road. I ran in the shoes I had, and I used a cheap Timex watch. I discovered the rich history of the sport and followed great runners… true role models… before anyone had heard of doping.

If you are willing to ditch the influencers and find your own path (I call it finding your why) I think you might be better off. If that path becomes a journey to finish all six (sorry, seven) Abbott World Major Marathons, that’s fine. But if it means enjoying easy runs around a local park with friends, while wearing budget shoes, that’s fine too. Maybe better, in fact.

And me? I should stop scanning the headlines.

Until next time, be well and BE FAST!