Recapping the 2016 Route 66 half marathon

Pre-race running stoke. Me and my nasty beard.

Pre-race running stoke. Me and my nasty beard.

It’s been a funky year in running for me. The beginning of the year saw me get pretty lazy on that front as I spent most of the first seven or so months working on strength. I did work on some speed, ran for six hours on trails in March and did a few 5Ks in search of a PR (to no avail). Even during the fall race season, I didn’t enter much.

So going into the Route 66 half marathon, I didn’t have very high expectations. I spent the bulk of my time building up a base, working my long runs into double-digit miles and trying to get my body used to running on pavement for a couple of hours. Considering where I was starting from, I felt good about being as strong at the end of my long runs, in terms of pace, as I did in the beginning. I also made sure to run plenty of hills, remembering hilliness that the Route 66 course presents every year.

The problem, however, came from this fall’s weather. When the fall training cycle starts up, I’m mentally ready for lots of hot-weather runs. It’s part of the deal in the Southern Plains. But I expect that by October, things should be cooling down enough to really work on pushing the pace throughout the week. Unfortunately, Oklahoma went through its warmest October on record, with only a couple of days where highs didn’t reach the 80s. Often, those highs were near 90.

To race faster, you must be able to train faster. Throughout the fall, that didn’t happen for me. Throw in a couple of interruptions in my training schedule, and I went into my fifth half marathon with low expectations. I was heavier than I needed to be and slow. While my workouts were ahead of where they were a year ago, I had a feeling that this race might be my slowest half to date.


If you’ve done this race before, you know that it fools a lot of people. Oklahoma is a relatively flat state, and newcomers arrive thinking this will be a fast, flat course.

And a good chunk of it is. Just not the majority of it.

You run downhill for most of the first mile, then spend the next four battling a series of rolling hills through a residential area. It’s scenic — the old neighborhoods of midtown are filled with big trees and stately homes, and the fall foliage was in its full glory. It was gorgeous to view with a bright sun and blue skies on what started out as a crisp, cool day.

After five miles, runners spill out into Brookside to begin about three miles of flat ground. The course ducks back into a neighborhood for a couple of miles and a long, deceptive uphill that can zap the unwary. It then goes back out onto the flats of Riverside Drive before taking the long uphill slog back into downtown.


I made sure to start out at a measured pace, and for those first four miles, I was fairly slow. It looked like I might match or exceed the previous year’s 2:20 finish.

One thing that worked in my favor (besides the cooler temps): All that hill training. Every Monday, I’d run three miles on one of the hilliest streets in Tulsa. That, combined with plenty of strength training in my glutes and hamstrings, really helped me feel fresh by the time I hit the flat part of the course at Mile 6.

It was here where I noticed that my mile times were getting faster. After nine miles, I was only a couple of minutes off my 15K personal record. By Mile 10, I passed the pacer who was holding a 2:15 pace.

Let me say, first off, that I am not fast. At all. But around this time, I knew I was starting to close in on my half marathon PR, a 2:11 split I hit in 2013 when doing Route 66’s full marathon. Back then, I was running 20 more miles per week and weighed about 13 pounds less. I didn’t foresee breaking that mark, but of one thing I was sure: I wouldn’t bomb like I had the previous year.

And then came the race’s great equalizer. Once you’re 11 miles in, you must go back into downtown, which is atop a hill. Southwest Boulevard is what takes you there, and it’s the biggest hill on the course. My cardio to that point had been taxed but was solid. That is, until that hill.

That’s where I cratered. The hill got me again, just like it had in here previous races. The 2:15 gal breezed by. No shot at a PR.

But getting past that, I recovered. And the last mile flew by. I sprinted the last hundred yards, and crossed the finish at 2:15:04, my second-fastest half.

Race bling.

Race bling.


I see a lot of what-ifs. What if I’d been a little more disciplined on the diet? What if I had pushed my training a little harder? And so on.

That’s my nature. I tend to look at what I could have done better, and achieved better results. A lot of the reasons I do this (and I know it’s true for many of you) is to test myself, to see if I can improve my fitness and performance, to see what this ole body can do.

And that’s all fine. But some of the things I did worked, and I do believe that training in warm to hot weather for most of the season paid off in November.

But most of all, it’s always nice to exceed your expectations. Putting up a 2:15 in a half marathon isn’t the pinnacle of long-distance running, but I didn’t believe it would happen this year. And then it did. It’s a sweet reward, almost as sweet as the post-run feast, which is really the best part of race day.

How did you do in your last race? Gimme a shout in the comments.

Bob Doucette

Running the Von Franken Family Food Run: Tulsa runners are pretty awesome

Runners gather for the Von Franken Family Food Run, with the downtown Tulsa skyline in the background.

Runners gather for the Von Franken Family Food Run, with the downtown Tulsa skyline in the background.

Thanksgiving tends to be flooded with turkey trots in runner circles, and I’ve enjoyed running in more than a few of them.

We’ve got a few here in the Tulsa area. But there’s one run in particular that stands out as a little different. There’s no entry fee. No bibs. Not timing chips or clocks. And no medals.

The Von Franken Family Food Run is a 5K run (not a race) that takes place every Thanksgiving Day, starting and ending at the River Parks West Festival Park. There are two main purposes for this one: To collect food for the Salvation Army and pet supplies for area animal shelters, and to go run with a few hundred like-minded people.

It’s pretty simple: Show up with a bag of food or pet supplies, go run a few miles, and eat free pancakes when it’s over.

We filled the truck. Tulsa runners rock.

We filled the truck. Tulsa runners rock.

We had an awesome day to run (40s to 50s and sunny). Several hundred folks showed up, and we filled the Salvation Army’s box truck with food. A pyramid of pet supplies also got stacked up near the parking lot.

Me and a dude named Robert ran and chatted it up for the last couple of miles. We talked about running the previous weekend’s Route 66 Marathon, how we did, and what we might do to get faster. A pretty cool way to spend the morning.

I like the vibe of this one. Lots of people of varying abilities and ages were there. It seemed half the runners brought their dogs (I stopped to give belly rubs to a bunch of them). And plenty of kids. As an untimed event, it didn’t have that crowded rush to break from the pack or people grinding out the miles in pain just to shave off a few seconds for a PR. Nope, just an easy run in the park, and that’s a good thing because my legs are still a little dead from the weekend’s half marathon (more on that in a later post).

Part of the route took us over this cool and fairly new pedestrian path over the Arkansas River. (Clint Green photo)

Part of the route took us over this cool and fairly new pedestrian path over the Arkansas River. (Clint Green photo)

All that is to say I’m proud of the city’s running community. It’s an awesome collection of road warriors, casual runners, dirtbag trail runners and regular working stiffs like me. I’m grateful for these folks, and on a holiday like Thanksgiving, a show of gratitude from so many is pretty cool to see.

Happy Thanksgiving, folks. I’m grateful for all of you, as well, for reading stuff I post on this site and sharing your thoughts on all things outdoors, running, fitness and life in general. I hope your holiday today is a good one.

Bob Doucette

Previewing the 2016 Route 66 Marathon, Tulsa

Marathon starting line stoke: It's real, man. (Kirk Wells/Route 66 marathon photo)

Route 66 Marathon starting line stoke: It’s real, man. (Kirk Wells/Route 66 marathon photo)

I haven’t raced a bunch this year, but it’s hard not to get excited about running in the Route 66 Marathon. Organizers do a great job in setting up an interesting and challenging course through midtown and downtown Tulsa, with good course support and a sweet finish line party to boot. Not to mention the race’s always-epic medals.

The race weekend starts off with a 5K event on Saturday, and the half and full marathons are on Sunday.

Before I get too far into it, one special note about one of the race’s longtime organizers, Chris Lieberman.

Chris made this race become a reality for Tulsa. Before Route 66 was born, there was no major marathon here. Chris, along with Kimi Hann, changed that in a big way, growing the event into what it is today, one of the state’s most-loved long-distance running events.

Chris has also been instrumental in bringing in other big-time events to Tulsa that have nothing to do with running. Case in point: The Center of the Universe Festival, where great national and local music acts converged on the city for three days of rock ‘n’ roll.

In March, Chris suffered a traumatic brain injury after taking a 10-foot fall off a ladder. It’s left him in a lengthy recovery process, one in which he’s making progress, but it’s a tough deal nonetheless.

Those close to Chris are asking that if you can, honor him by signing up to be a volunteer for the race. You can do that here. If you want to know more about Chris’s situation, check out this site. You can also follow his progress on Facebook: Just do a search for “Chris Lieberman Updates” and “like” the page.

Chris has been an amazing supporter of all things Tulsa, as well as to runners here and in many cities and states. It would be good to send him some love, through volunteering, or prayers, or good vibes. You can also donate to help with his recovery.

OK, on to the details of the race…

First off: the packet pickup and expo. The expo takes place at the Cox Business Center in downtown Tulsa. You can pick up packets for your race from 11 a.m. to 8 p.m. Nov. 18 and 10 a.m. to 6 p.m. Nov. 19. At the expo, there are going to be a ton of vendors, speakers and a bloggers’ forum. If you’ve got time, check ’em all out.

Second: Let’s talk about the course. It’s the same as it was when the race changed its format to finish in the Brady Arts District downtown, right by Guthrie Green.

Courtesy Route 66 Marathon

Courtesy Route 66 Marathon

The marathon and half marathon follow the same initial loop right up into the 13th mile, when marathoners head out of downtown for their second loop. So here are some things you need to know…

Don’t be fooled by that first mile. It’s mostly downhill, so it’s fast, and the excitement of the race will amp up a lot of people’s paces. Soon after reaching 15th Street, you will meet a really big hill, and the hilliness of the course won’t stop for while. Running through the neighborhoods of Maple Ridge and near Woodward Park is really scenic, but there is a lot of up-and-down between Mile 2 and Mile 7. Pace yourself accordingly.

The hills will relent as you go through Brookside, then turn west on 41st Street. Turning north on Riverside will remain flat, but the course ducks back east, then north again on Cincinnati Avenue and into a neighborhood. Mild elevation gains and losses prevail from Mile 8 to Mile 10. After that, it’s a good, flat section of Riverside Drive into Mile 11. And then it gets real.

At Southwest Boulevard, you will begin the climb back into downtown, and it’s not small, lasting the better part of a mile. Just past Mile 12, you’ll turn north at Denver Avenue and start heading north and downhill toward the Brady District. Marathoners will turn back east at Second Street to begin their second loop while those doing the half will continue north on the last mile — one more climb, then a mostly flat finish.

For those going the full 26.2, it’s another trip out to midtown, but in different areas. You get to avoid the hills of 15th Street to start, instead eventually making your way south on Peoria between Mile 13 and Mile 15. Here, you’ll turn back east on a familiar road, south past Utica Square, but then farther east into different neighborhoods. I’ve found these areas not as hilly as Maple Ridge, but that will change soon enough. The mellower grades continue from Mile 15 through Mile 18 as you head north toward the University of Tulsa.

You hit one small but steep climb on 21st Street, then a long, gradual uphill slog toward the school between Mile 18 and Mile 20. The uphill continue through the school, then relents a bit as you leave and go back south on Delaware.

And then, my friends, comes the biggest mental test of the full, at least in my estimation. Just before Mile 22 begins, you hit 15th Street (also known as Cherry Street), and its sizable hills. Between Delaware and Peoria, they are big and somewhat steep.

Just when you think another huge hill awaits, you turn north back on Peoria (between Mile 23 and Mile 24) to start the trek back downtown. Fortunately, the hills of Midtown are behind you. If you have any gas left in the tank, you can make some time here. If you don’t, at least gravity won’t be devouring you the entire way there. A slight grade up take you from Mile 24 to Mile 25, then a gradual downhill on First Street to Denver Avenue lets you coast.

If you want to do the Center of the Universe Detour, it pulls off the course in the middle of the First Street stretch. It’s a party up there, and they give you a commemorative coin for your trouble. Back on the main course, you go downhill fast on Denver Avenue, under a bridge, then one last, short uphill climb to the Brady District and the final, mostly flat portion of the course to the finish.

Last few observations…

First, I hope you did some hill training. Though only a few of the hills are big and there are some sizable flat spots, this is not a flat course. At all.

Second, expect good course support. Organizers have lots of aid stations along the way, well-stocked and well-manned.

Third, watch the weather forecasts. So far, it looks really good. A cool start in the upper 30s, and a high in the mid to upper 50s. Dress accordingly, and keep watching the forecast. Weather in this state can be fickle.

Last, enjoy it! I’ve run this one a couple of times, and it stacks up really well with any race I’ve done. The course is scenic and challenging, which always makes for a good time.

Bob Doucette

A cure for the election flu


I’m not sure how many days this election season has encompassed. Well over a year, I’m sure. I think it officially kicked off when Ted Cruz made his announcement in front of a captive audience at Liberty University’s student chapel service in 2015, and it ended today.

From the lines I’ve seen (and one that I’ve been in), it’s pretty clear that people are engaged. That’s a good thing. But it has come with a lot of baggage.

I’m not sure what your experience has been, but here’s a sampling of mine…

Social media feeds filled with simplistic (and usually false) memes, sketchy links and heated (pointless?) arguments. A bunch of butthurt. A guy telling me my eternal soul was in the balance depending on how I voted.

Fun, huh?

But now it ends. We still have to live with each other, and indeed, with ourselves (got any words you’d like to take back?). Once that ballot is cast, what are you going to do next?

The temptation will be to dance in the end zone (if your candidate wins) or lament the end of the republic (if your side loses).

I voted early last week. Thirty minutes in line and it was done. Not long after, I went here.


It was a short run in the woods before work, maybe 40 minutes. Holy cow, was that the tonic I needed. I mostly had the trails to myself, and the weather was perfect.

So that brings me here: Free elections are wonderful. Way better than dictatorships. And it’s good that people care. But folks get wound up to a fever pitch. I call it the election flu. People get so emotional and self-righteous that they drive themselves sick with anger, worry and despair. It’s like a virus, spreading through mass media on television, radio and the internet. Social media makes it even more contagious. It’s bad enough to where people will actually end friendships over arguments on things like Obamacare and emails.

We all could use a reset, something that will break the fever. Hint: Go outdoors, unplug and move. Science tells us it’s good for us.

So go for a run in a place like this…


More of a bike person? Take a long, dirty ride.


Maybe  find yourself a view from a high place. Mountain summits can clear your head.


Time in the hills, in the woods or on the saddle can do a lot toward breaking the fever of election flu. So go ahead. Turn off the news, shut down the computer and leave the cellphone behind, even if it’s just for a couple of hours. Get away from the election buzz. I know democracy is important, but so is keeping a balanced and healthy life. Do your part for your country, but then do your part for you.

Bob Doucette

A conservation success story on Colorado’s Mount Shavano that we can build on

Mount Shavano, as seen from Salida, Colo.

Mount Shavano, as seen from Salida, Colo.

Mount Shavano holds a special place for me.

It’s not the prettiest mountain, or the tallest, or the most challenging to climb. But it’s a great choice for folks looking for a good alpine summit hike within sight of Salida, one of my favorite Colorado mountain towns.

Shavano was the second 14er I climbed, way back in 2004, and two weeks after I did my first. My brother and I hiked it in perfect conditions, and for a long time, it remained my favorite of Colorado’s 14,000-foot mountains.

On Shavano's summit, in 2004.

On Shavano’s summit, in 2004.

Five years later, I climbed it again with my friend Johnny. We’d never done a snow climb before, and Shavano’s Angel Couloir is an excellent place to cut your teeth on that front. It was a long, memorable and amazing day. I’ll probably go back so I can reach the summit of Tabeguache Peak, a shorter, neighboring mountain connected to Shavano by a ridge.

My friend Johnny getting ready to top out on Mount Shavano in 2009. The land here is part of a mining claim.

My friend Johnny getting ready to top out on Mount Shavano in 2009. The land here is part of a mining claim.

Recently, I learned some news. Unknown to a bunch of us until now, Mount Shavano’s summit block is privately owned, a part of an old mining claim. It’s common for parts of the 14ers to have mining claims, and usually that doesn’t present much of a problem. But the upper portions of Shavano’s standard route are in need of some trail work, something the Colorado Fourteeners Initiative – a nonprofit conservation group dedicated to the Colorado high country – had hoped to carry out. They key here is to make a sustainable route as to prevent further damage on the mountain, something the current route does not do.

The U.S. Forest Service wanted to oblige, but couldn’t because of the mining claim.

And all this time, who knew that this pile of rocks was privately owned?

And all this time, who knew that this pile of rocks was privately owned?

So CFI sought to raise $40,500 to buy up the parcels at Shavano’s summit. A successful fundraising campaign would allow CFI do the work needed to give this peak the needed trail upgrade it and its hikers deserve.

Tens of thousands of people hike and climb Colorado’s 14ers every year. Once word got out, people started donating to help the cause. It didn’t take long and the money was raised.

This is one of those great success stories of where conservation efforts meet up with land users to make a difference. But the Shavano story is just one of many. Increasing foot traffic on Colorado’s high peaks causes a good deal of wear and tear on the trails. Social trails are a problem, as they contribute to erosion in the very delicate environment of the alpine. CFI has done tremendous work to solve these problems, creating safe, durable trails that serve hikers while also helping to protect sensitive ecosystems above treeline.

I’d love to go through all of CFI’s success stories, but I’ll point to one in particular.

A very helpful cairn built on the upper standard route of Mount of the Holy Cross, courtesy of the Colorado Fourteeners Initiative.

A very helpful cairn built on the upper standard route of Mount of the Holy Cross, courtesy of the Colorado Fourteeners Initiative.

For many years, hikers coming down from the summit of Mount of the Holy Cross would find the descent confusing. Folks would sometimes get lost. And more than once, an errant hiker would become confused and unable to find their way out of the wilderness area that surrounds the mountain’s standard route. People disappeared and died.

CFI remedied that with an improved route and sizable cairns to direct people toward the proper way down the mountain. Not only did this improve the route, but likely saved lives going forward.

If you’re interested in supporting efforts like these, here’s a link to donate to CFI. They’re a great group that does a tremendous amount of hard work making hikers’ and climbers’ lives easier by building and maintaining solid routes up these popular peaks. They’ve earned our trust, and we definitely owe this organization our thanks. Give it some thought, and by all means, throw a few bucks their way. It’ll be worth it.

Bob Doucette

‘The Walking Dead’ and survival: What the show can teach us about making it in the wild

Could you survive this?

Could you survive this?

I’m a sucker for a good story. One of the stories I follow on TV is “The Walking Dead” series on AMC.

Now don’t worry, there’s not going to be any spoilers here. But I’ve thought long and hard about why this show appeals to me, and to millions of others.

The story lines, the acting, the action — sure, all of that plays a part. But I think the foundation is built on a question: What would I do in that type of world?

If you’re not familiar with the show, it goes something like this: A mysterious disease swamps the world, and there’s no cure. Only a few survive it, and the infected become mindless zombies looking for the flesh of the living on which to feed. Those who survive must contend with a world that went from civilized and technologically advanced to the dark ages in a matter of months. Governments, money, modern conveniences — they’re all gone, leaving behind a brutish, savage and dark world.

So I ask myself, “Could I hack it?”

My take on it will be different than it is for a lot of people, mostly because I look at it from the point of view of someone who spends a decent amount of time outdoors. I’ve tried to learn how to operate in areas beyond the reach of roads, technology and comfort. I might be up on this subject more than most, but consider myself very much the student still. But letting this question percolate brings to mind some basic survival concepts that you, too, would face if thrust into a zombie apocalypse, or something dreadfully similar to it. So here goes…

Worse than zombies.

Worse than zombies.

The big things will scare you, but it’s the little things that will kill you. Fear of a zombie horde will motivate you to be safe, but chances are, your end wouldn’t come by way of a bite from the undead. It would be something much smaller. A blister pops, and without proper medicine, infection sets in. Untreated, sepsis will occur, and that will take you down. Small illnesses like colds or the flu can become crises of lethal proportions absent the comforts and cures of the developed world. Clean water will be harder to find, and given our lack of immunity to waterborne diseases, a gastrointestinal malady will take you out in a matter of days.

The fix: Learn wilderness first aid, and how to filter and sanitize water. These aren’t cure-alls, but the fewer incidental infections in the wild you have, the better your chances of survival. Bummer if you get the flu, though.

Ed Wardle went into the Yukon backcountry and couldn't stop thinking about food.

Ed Wardle went into the Yukon backcountry and couldn’t stop thinking about food.

The thought of food will consume your thoughts and activities as much as anything else. Sure, you’ll scavenge and hoard the non-perishables for awhile, but eventually those supplies will run out. At that point, you’ll have to resort to growing our own food (hard to do with Negan on the prowl, or zombies closing in) or revert to hunting/gathering.

Most of us don’t know how to farm. And farming/gardening can be very seasonal, depending on where you live, meaning that those lean winter months can be tough sledding. So chances are, most of us will have to go paleo for real and become hunter/gatherers.

I watched a show a few years ago called “Alone in the Wild,” where the star of the show planned to spend 90 days in the Yukon wilderness. As the show progressed, I couldn’t help but notice how most of his thoughts dwelled on food. Where to get it. How much he needed. How hungry he was. All the time. How sapped he felt. All the time. He could catch a trout or two, but consume only 400 calories while burning through 2,000 to 3,000 a day. After awhile, he was reduced to mimicking the wildlife around him, possessed by the thought of the next meal, and controlled by the lack of it. That’s your life in “The Walking Dead” world if you survive the initial calamity.

The fix: Learn how to hunt (firearm and archery), trap and fish, and bone up on your edible plants (here are some examples). Couldn’t hurt to pick up some food preservation skills, either, to get you through those lean months.

Negan's one bad dude. In chaotic survival situations, sometimes ordinary folks break bad.

Negan’s one bad dude. In chaotic survival situations, sometimes ordinary folks break bad.

Wildlife can be dangerous, but people more so. People are social animals, but as we know, more of us die at the hands of other people than we do wildlife. And in the middle of an undead dystopia, the worst of us are going to manifest themselves into characters like The Governor, Negan, The Wolves, and those dreadfully hungry residents of Terminus. In the real world, famine, disaster, civil war and other disruptive events that can crash a society have shown that we truly don’t understand how deep people’s bad intentions can become when survival is on the line.

The fix: There is safety in numbers, but trusting others in dark times is risky business. Carefully pick out a small group you can trust, and one that can bolt for safety at a moment’s notice. No point getting caught by warlord’s minions while trapped in a stationary place with lots of defenseless people. And speaking of defense, it’s always a good idea to learn how to defend yourself. Pick up some martial arts. If you’re going to defend yourself with a firearm, learn how to use is and practice regularly. If you’re going to live in the wild, be prepared to fight like there are no rules.

Home is where you can make it. Make it right.

Home is where you can make it. Make it right.

Most of us are helpless without gadgets, gasoline and the power grid. It will hurt if you lose those modern conveniences, but where this really hits you is when you need to find adequate shelter and warmth. And it’s a killer when it comes to getting from Point A to Point B. Think about it: Your house or apartment becomes a really tough place to stay when the power is out. Dead of winter? Freezing cold. Mid-summer? Unliveably hot. And where would you be if you didn’t have the ability to drive a car, hop a bus or take a train?

You could get by for awhile, but as time passes, gasoline will run out, cars will break down and shelter built on the contingency of the power grid working will eventually cease to be viable.

The fix: Home is where you are, and that’s something to remember if you are regularly on the move. Without modern transportation, you’re going to need to condition your body to hike long distances, with all your possessions on your back (don’t forget those 10 essentials). Take up backpacking and make hiking a habit. That, and learning to ride a horse might also be a good idea. As for shelter, sure, you can make do with existing  structures. But you’ll also want to learn how to make your own shelter: Lean-to shelters in warmer months, and in snowy areas, you should know how to make a quinzee. And at the top of this, learn how to start a fire (here are some ideas on how to do it without a match or lighter). Fires are crucial for warmth, cooking, and sterilizing water and medical tools. If you have these skills down, you’re several steps of everyone else wandering around in the apocalypse.

Bob Doucette

Training log: What to do when you have a bad day

A wonderful scene from a long run past. If only it was that still and pleasant last weekend.

A wonderful scene from a long run past. If only it was that still and pleasant last weekend.

Here in the heart of fall race season, things have been going pretty good. Once I got back from my last trip to Colorado, I planned out a training schedule and ramped up the miles leading to the Route 66 half marathon on November. In the weeks since, each long run has been an improvement over the last, and it seems I’m ahead of where I was at this time last year. I went into this weekend thinking a PR was within reach.

So on Saturday, I headed out for a 10-miler, as per the schedule. It was over 80 degrees with a stiff south wind, which meant that  I’d spend the first half of the workout going straight into it.

No prob, I thought. I’ll have a tailwind on the way back and all will be well.

Not so fast. Those first five miles went fine, but as I turned around to finish up, a solid training run turned into a miserable slog. I returned home wrecked and a bit discouraged.

The weekend also had a good number of friends racing various ultramarathons, complete with medals, buckles and trophies from 50K, 50 mile, 100K and even 100-mile finishes. One woman I know completed her fourth hundo in four weeks while another did back-to-back marathons over the weekend, completing both at 3:35 or faster.

And there I was reeling a little from just 10.

I’m sure many of you have had some crappy runs, and felt bad after comparing yourself to others. I was feeling that a bit. But here’s the thing. Everyone has an off day. But instead of questioning yourself, you should be asking the right questions. Or perhaps looking at it differently. Some thoughts:

Sometimes you have an off day. Bad sleep, a slip in your diet, a hard week of training, life stress, or a combination of any/all of these things can sap your strength. Fix what you can fix, but understand that physical performance is affected by a lot of variables, and sometimes you just aren’t at your best.

Comparisons are only useful in competitive settings. If you are the type of runner or athlete who competes for podium finishes and trophies, yeah, comparisons are part of the deal. But if you’re like 99.9 percent of the runners out there and you’re testing yourself against yourself, it’s not very useful. I know I’m not a sub-20 minute 5K runner, or the type of person who will run 100-mile ultras. I’m not that kind of a runner. Why would I compare myself to those who are? If these people inspire you to push yourself, that’s healthy. But if you’re comparing yourself to them and measuring your worth by how far you lag behind them, you’re shooting yourself in the foot. Celebrate others’ successes, but keep your eyes on the prize — your goals, and yours only.

Analyze what went right and wrong, but not too much. Weather conditions can be a big factor on how well you train. A warm, windy day doesn’t make for great conditions for high performance over longer distances. Same deal for times when it’s really humid, or too cold. For example, a friend of mine ran the OKC Memorial Marathon a few years back, hoping to improve on his typical four-hour finish times. But during the last half of the race, the winds kicked up considerably (15-20 mph steady, with 30 mph gusts) and temperatures soared into the mid-80s. He ended up finishing in six hours. He’s not a six-hour marathoner by any means. But the sun and the winds made sure he was on that day. So you can see where analyzing the conditions, or your prep, or whatever, can give insight on what went right and wrong. But don’t go too deep into the weeds, as that might force you into changing what you do too much, and then sabotage you going forward. Paralysis by analysis is real. Take a look, adjust where you can, but stay the course.

Speaking of that, remember to trust the process. If you’re on a training schedule, or under the direction of a good coach, the best thing you can do is shrug off a bad day, look ahead to what’s next, and do it. Day after day after day. I remember reading a piece on the T-Nation website (it’s geared toward strength training) that said that every awesome performance is built on the foundation of dozens, or hundreds, of very average days. The lesson: Consistency matters. Don’t get so down that you end up slacking off, as that is usually the first step toward quitting. Keep grinding, keep going, trust the process, and when the big day arrives, do your best. Your best will be built upon all those good — and bad — training days.

Keep at it, folks. Don’t let a bad day get ya down.

Bob Doucette