Grandma’s Marathon Race Report

Race Date: Saturday, June 21, 2025 – 8:15am

Grandma’s Marathon is one of the most fun weeks of the year, and I very much enjoyed the traditions that have started to become engrained. I registered for the marathon way back in October 2024 at Hoops Brewing, as a registration-day group run party type thing. After the Wild Duluth races a few weeks after, my hamstring was in really rough shape and I was OK with not running too much. Well, the not running thing bled into the winter and I found it very challenging to get out the door for whatever reason. I didn’t do much to remedy my bum hamstring, either, and essentially just lived my life without any motivation to prepare for Grandma’s. In early February, I went to Florida for a week and got a little jogging in but came back with a cold. Back from vacation and trying to get into the groove of everyday life, I knew I needed to start integrating running but was less motivated than ever in the dark and cold deep winter months of northern Minnesota. In fact, I had no motivation for anything at that time and found myself just watching youtube videos for hours on end wasting away, not knowing how or really wanting to get out of a funk. I was suddenly fed up with all that and put together a training calendar in late February. It’s worked in the past, crossing off each day one by one with the tried and true 10% mileage increase per week. I started at roughly 10 miles, which makes for a slow, almost funny lead up. 10 miles, then 11 the next week, then 12.1 the next week, then 13.2. The build is so, so slow at the beginning, but starting in that last week in February at really low mileage gave me confidence that I could build my body up with the mileage – super slowly and steady to prevent my little nagging injuries from cropping up. Furthermore, the beauty of the 10% increase plan is that I was looking at a peak weak of over 65 miles if things stayed on track. That was enough to put together a decent marathon, I figured. However, when my training plan was printing and for 13 weeks of a steady build, my true belief was that a personal best or even a sub-3 bid was simply unachievable. I felt so out of shape.

In training, the weeks clicked by and the beautiful upward parabolic curve of my training log started to take shape. The NMTC Spring Trail Race series came fast and I felt unprepared for speed work. I needed more slow base mileage, but gave it a go and raced pretty good while making every single race in the series. Comparing past times, I certainly wasn’t any faster than ever. I was perhaps slower than ever, actually, but not by much. Long runs started getting over half marathon mileage and they were feeling good. I was running a couple minutes slower than sub-3 hour pace during long runs, feeling totally in control, smooth, and strong. I was able to recover quickly even after a couple 16- and 18-milers. On the last day in May, I completed a 20 mile long run on a combination of trails and roads with my friend Lane. Although I generally suffered the whole time, I had good mile splits and recovered fast. My last long run was two weeks from race day. I volunteered at the Going Bananas Run as the gorilla (who chases the participants dressed in banana costumes after their 2-minute head start), which was a two mile run. Later in the day, the plan was to do a long run with some marathon speed work. Specifically, an eight mile easy warm up, then 2×4 miles at 6:45 pace. A half mile recovery in between intervals and 1.5 mile cooldown would get me 18 additional miles on the day, and some very useful data for race day. I was probably decently dehydrated from fully sweating through the gorilla costume, and brought two gels along for my long run. The warmup was easy, and the first four mile interval going backwards on the Grandma’s race course went good. That pace seemed to be so fast, but I felt in control in most ways. My breathing wasn’t too labored, my running form felt smooth and mechanical. It wasn’t easy enough for my liking, however. I couldn’t imagine running 26 miles at that effort, that’s for sure. During the last two miles of my first four mile interval, I was really looking forward to the rest break, and immediately sloughed to a slow jog when the last mile beeped on my watch. In a couple minutes, it was time to bring it home with the second four mile set at sub-3 hour marathon pace, and I got back up to cruising speed feeling clunky and labored. My first interval mile of the second set was mere seconds under seven minutes, and just a few minutes later I gave up after feeling my pace fall off completely. Would I make gains by pushing hard to keep on pace? No. This isn’t a fitness building workout, I told myself, but a mental exercise. So I threw the race pace workout out the window and jogged it in the last four or five miles with some good data in hand. Sub-3 pace is really fast.

Within two weeks of race day, I wanted to run under three hours so bad. My training was perfect, with where I started off earlier in the year. I was feeling healthy in all ways. My right hamstring was problematic, my problematic left ankle had been that way for years, but both very much manageable. My brother Andrew seemed to be in a similar boat training-wise. He’d been gunning for a sub-3 hour marathon finish for years, with two 3:03 finishes under his belt. This year, he said, his training was a little blah and he said he felt unsure of a personal best performance. My confidence went up as race day neared and we put down $100 winner takes all. I went between pacing for a nice cool 3:15 and a likely strong finish, or taking the risk to run under three. Especially given my training lead up, and the toll of the marathon distance, I didn’t have confidence to run a bunch of 7:30 minute miles then crank it down to six minutes per mile flat for the last 10k of the race. If I wanted three hours, I knew I’d have to go out at my pace and hang on until the gritty end. That strategy worked exceedingly well in 2023 at Grandma’s Marathon. I looked back at my training logs leading up to a 2:59 finish and was surprised to recall 200-mile months each in March and April of that year, but then just a 60 mile month in May. In 2025, I put almost 100 miles in the bank during March 2025, solidly over 100 in April, then almost 200 miles in May when the 10% mileage increases really accelerate. So, my peak mileage week was substantially more timely in 2025 compared to 2023. How the heck did I run so fast in ’23? Despite low mileage in May that year, I had run a 1:22 half marathon mid-month. Hmm. I narrowed in on a race plan to just stick with the three hour pace group. Let ‘er rip, don’t focus on perceived exertion, don’t focus on heart rate, don’t focus on pace or time. Just stick with the pace group, lock in and run 26 6:50 minute miles in a row. I told Andrew of my plan and he said he’d join me. Andrew, my mom and friend Savannah stayed over during the weekend for a nice full house, with my dad conveniently staying in his trailer at the DECC around all the race festivities. I picked up our race packets on Thursday, I was a course captain for the William A. Irvin 5k for the 5th or 6th year in a row and helped sling some barricade around on Friday, then went home nice and early to relax. I just had to execute the next day. Race week went utterly perfect, I felt perfect the day before, meals and sleep were perfect. Things were really lining up. The weather looked good enough. I had trouble falling asleep Friday night but got there, and woke up nice and early to booming thunder and rain before my alarm at 4:30.

On race morning, I had text messages that the race was delayed by a half hour and although I considered going back to bed for a 30 more minutes, I was already too awake and figured I’d just get going on my morning routine. Coffee, set up my race uniform, bowl of cereal, morning poop. My mom drove Savannah to the half marathon busses while Andrew and I putzed around. He and I left right on time for the original bus loading times, so we were very early to the busses. There was no line whatsoever. We walked onto a bus and the bus left. We rode up with my friend Kevin who was convinced it was going to be 80 degrees on the course early on. It was muggy and hazy outside, but mild temperatures. When the sun peeked out of the clouds for a minute, it was certainly comfortable in my long sleeve warmup shirt. That was a bad sign for the day. I want it cold. Maybe Kevin’s forecast was right. We had well over an hour to kill before the delayed start time was upon us. Andrew and I sat on the ground, waited in toilet lines, and generally just people-watched and moseyed through the crowds. With a couple minutes to go before the new 8:15am start time, we weaseled into the start chute and with sights on the 3-hour pace leaders. Roaring fighter jets exploded through the sky as anxious energy was perceptible, emanating from the bottom of the carbon-plated supershoes up through the backwards sweat-wicking caps of each marathon racer standing shoulder-to-shoulder ready to rip. With a blast of the horn, the race was off. Seconds later, we lurched forward towards the start line. I started my watch right under the archway and we were off. The running felt so slow right away but we were up and rocking immediately, 25 feet back from the white hat wearing 3-hour pace group leader. The first mile felt slow and pokey but it was under seven minutes. Perfect. The crowd was large until at least the 5th mile and I was hoping it would thin slightly. Early miles clicked off and I noticed my breathing was light and under control. My heart rate seemed a little high – I couldn’t help look. My watch was certainly showing a decently high effort right away. I was hoping to see more green for zone three instead of high in the orange for zone four. But it was easy running and I stuck to the plan.

My friend Liam was in my head down the stretch of my training block. My original plan was to run a nice easy 20 miler two weeks out. He said the science would suggest that boosting quality and easing up on quantity of miles is more effective down the stretch. I altered my plan and tried a workout, and didn’t complete it. I told him about it and he immediately asked about my fueling strategy during that last long run. I told him I had two gels. He said it wasn’t enough. The science would suggest, Liam noted, that 60 grams or more of carbs per hour is optimal for marathon performance. Hmm. So, I tried something different and brought what seemed like quite a few more gels than I would otherwise have carried, with the plan to take one every four miles or 30 minutes. At mile four, there wasn’t water. At mile five, I took my first gel. It wasn’t too hot right away, but certainly humid. I was pouring water on my head from the very first water stop. The first gel went down no problem and I was running good. I lost Andrew through the crowd and although we had some big money on the line, his location was not my concern. Much more of my concern was the three hour pacer, who was within sight. I wanted to get close to the group and kind of suck in with the hoard of people but often found myself 100 feet behind the group in no man’s land. It wasn’t bad to have my space, but I felt like being closer to the group makes it harder to fall off the group. We clicked off miles in the foggy, thick-aired morning.

I started feeling doubts early on. Under the train bridge past Knife River, I felt my running to be labored. It was too fast. I told myself I could trust my training and stick with the pace group as long as I could, to just make it as easy as possible. Variable breezes sporadically brough cool, refreshing air off Lake Superior right into our faces. That gave me a nice boost of energy every time we felt chilly air sweep off the lake. At mile eight, there was not a water stop so I pushed my gel intake plan back a little bit further. Close enough to an hour, I figured. Next water stop, it was down the hatch with no problem. The miles clicked off right under seven minutes each, each one right on track. Headed up a small hill past the French River, around mile 12, was hard and I felt the desire to slow down or just walk for a minute. I did not walk and did what I could to not really slow down. The miles kept clicking away under 7 minutes with very consistent splits. I was excited to get to the halfway point. I took my third gel at the next water stop after the half marathon toilet banks and balloons. I got frustrated because my honey stinger gel pack didn’t open correctly and I couldn’t quickly ingest its contents while rapidly running up to the volunteers holding out the water I needed. I smashed my teeth together trying to force the honey into my mouth. Gah! I was doing a good job managing the humidity by splashing plenty of water on my head and back every chance possible, and I drank Powerade at every water stop. Despite everything going perfectly, I could feel the impending doom creeping up. I didn’t think about it too much, and focused on each mile split and keeping the pacer is sight. I had never seen the second 3:00 pace group leader, and a few miles after the half marathon start line, my pacer I had been following for 90 minutes stopped at a toilet while I ran right past. I knew I needed to just keep running the same mile splits I’d been rocking. Somewhere around mile 17 or two hours, I took a fourth gel which went down fine. My heavy fueling strategy was going great, pace was on track, but the running felt way too hard and fast.

When the next beep of my watch looked closer to 7:00 than 6:52, I found myself concentrating on getting off of the Scenic Highway and into the Lakeside neighborhood. At mile 17, I went over seven minutes. I knew my cheering squad and dear friends the Gilbertsons would be around mile 21. I felt that there would be a different, refreshing energy into the Lakeside neighborhoods, although that has commonly been the hardest part of the course for me. I was certainly slowing down coming past Brighton Beach around mile 19. It seemed people were passing me more than I was passing them. The white hat 3:00 pace leader zoomed past me and I had no chance to catch up. Past Lester River and Mile 19, I felt a little twinge on my right lower calf/upper achilles area and it was surprising. I instinctively muttered “ouch” although it didn’t really hurt. It was more like a misstep or perhaps signal from my body and mind that I should stop. If you want to be successful at marathon running, you have to know how to ignore those signals. This was the crux of my race. I felt a brick wall come down, similar to my last workout. I know that in my best races over the years, I commonly reflect and focus on a key workout during the training cycle. Although I didn’t focus on my botched last long run, in retrospect I was at a loss not having an absolutely crushed, perfectly executed workout two weeks out to focus on during the race.

As I made my way through Lakeside, past the Mile 20 timing split and towards downtown Duluth, my pace didn’t fade as much as just get hacked down to a shuffle. My right calf was painful and I altered my gait slightly. It was too painful in the legs to maintain a smooth, mechanical 6:45 minutes per mile gait, and glances at my watch showed well over 8 minutes per mile all of the sudden, which was revolting. I felt like I didn’t have any recourse to my pace falling apart and essentially gave up my sub-3 hour finish at that time. I saw friends here and there and just kind of shook my head each time. Around Mile 21, I saw my cheering squad featuring Angela blowing bubbles. I ran over to her daughter Lily for a high five. Their other family members Brent and Axel were absent. A power boosting Axel high-five couldn’t have revived me, anyways. I hadn’t even really thought of Andrew probably behind me somewhere. I didn’t care if he’d pass me, didn’t care if anyone passed me. Lots of people were. I was just basically beat down emotionally and physically and content with chugging along to the finish, pushing to whatever I could with what I had left. Walking sounded nice but I didn’t want to open that can of worms so just kept up my little shuffle. Miles 20, 21 and 22 were all over 8 minutes, and progressively slower. That wasn’t surprising but challenging to run math and figure I was siphoning over a minute per mile off of my 3-hour mark. Ugh. I missed my Mile 20/2:30 gel, and didn’t even take a 5th one. My old coworker Paige during our time at Duluth Running Co. passed me near Glensheen Mansion and I said hi. She said she was happy to come across me, as if we could prop each other up and run it in for a sub-3. Nope, we can’t. I told her I was falling apart and that she should run on ahead. Literally right behind her I heard “hey man” and my brother Andrew followed her. I was pumped, and tried to hang with him for a second, but it was not going to happen. I told him to go, to follow Paige, and that he knew what he had to do to get under 3. “You have to put the hammer down, man!” I yelled at him and both he and Paige smoothly ran out of sight from me as I tottered on in.

By Lemon Drop Hill, I was being exclusively passed except for walkers. There were quite a few people walking that I did pass, and I was thankful I wasn’t at that level, anyways. After the grinding uphill of Lemon Drop, I had kind of a second wind where I at least didn’t feel like complete garbage. Maybe I was just getting into the groove of eight minutes per mile. My calf wasn’t really bothering me as much but I just couldn’t muster the turnover or springy power needed to run a sub-7 minute mile. Hey, I went for it and blew up which was kind of expected, I told myself. I could tell that I was grimacing and tried to remember to smile or at least not grimace. My mantra for the day was “mindset”, and on the nice downhill stretch on London Road I was muttering that one word over and over to myself out loud. I think it helped a little bit, like, I can either hate my life or enjoy this wonderful opportunity to push my body to its limits alongside 20,000 of my closest friends. My energy also increased according to the raucous crowd getting bigger and louder the closer we ran towards downtown Duluth. I had tried a good mantra from days of yore “I like the pain” but it didn’t work at all. I didn’t want any of that. I told myself to have a positive mindset, to smile and not grimace, and focused on straightening my posture and doing what I could to maintain a decent-looking running form despite my calves and hamstrings feeling destroyed. I had no interest in eating another gel, but had a delicious strawberry in front of Super One Foods. Up the little uphill avenue block was slow but I passed a few walkers. I got a big boost, as normal, along Duluth Running Co. and captured a bunch of high fives. I passed my neighbors right at the avenue that we live on and muttered “I’m dying” or something. That combination of boosts of energy didn’t last more than five steps and I was having a hard time on Superior Street towards the final couple miles. I told myself that pace and time was out the window, and that if I could just enjoy the experience and keep moving as fast as my body allowed me, and that would be fine. I was trying to hype up some of the people walking who were clearly struggling with walk/run combinations. One guy would pass me going fast, then just stop dead and walk slowly, then run again and pass me with ease. While he was stopped, I said to him “just jog it in with me, easy running, easy running” but he didn’t really stick to the plan. His plan worked better after all, as he finished before me. Huh. I felt good enough through the 25 mile mark. Chugging along, I wasn’t too hot or anything and didn’t even stop at the last water stop. The final mile was probably one of the easier Grandma’s Marathon final miles because time was out the window, my $100 bill was out the window and I was in a good mind state. Just finish looking kind of strong, bring it home, I thought. I was smiling wide with abundant crowd energy and cheering and was excited to see the finish. The Grandma’s finish chute is an amazing place and although I had no zip and was passed several times in the final fractions of a mile beyond mile 26, I crossed the finish line just after 3:10:00 flashed on the clock. My watch read 3:09 and some seconds. I felt like 3:09 is a respectable time, and it was essentially right where I thought I’d be the entire training cycle until the final week leading up to the race.

I found Andrew in the finisher food area and was pumped to see him. I had to know if he was able to collect a sub-3 finish after getting so close so many times. He logged yet another PR at 3:o2. DUDE! I was yelling and hooting and hollering, in a bit of disbelief that he got so close yet again. He’s essentially had three personal records within 75 seconds of each other, and no marathon finishes with the number two in the hour slot. I paid him up in a less funny way that he paid me up for our $100 bet in 2023… a simple venmo transfer and we were square. We had a finish line party beer, Andrew and I went to lunch with our parents and it was a nice time.

I love Grandma’s weekend so much. My favorite parts are volunteering on Friday for the William A. Irvin 5k and slingin’ ‘cade with my friends, then leaving it all on the race course and sharing the war stories. I love seeing so many friends and family, and racing with my brother. Race weekend in Duluth is undoubtedly one of the best events ever, and if I could sign up for the Grandma’s Marathon 50th Anniversary race slated for 2026 at the exact moment of this writing, I absolutely would do it. Despite a challenging race physically and mentally, and not meeting my time goal or my placement goal (versus Andrew and nobody else, that is), I put up a time I am proud enough of and pleased with my choice to go for it. I think that going for a sub-3, getting pretty close but falling apart and missing the mark, then slogging it in, gave me some good insights on corrections I could make for my next road marathon bid. It goes without saying that a longer build period would be necessary. I think if I wanted to truly go for a marathon PR, which is realistic although arduous, I would want to do lots of 5k and half marathon speed work, and over-mileage long runs. I think I would do pretty well with long runs in the 25-30 mile range but traditional “long slow distance” pace. A periodized program with a big base-building phase, a few strategic down weeks, sprinkling in high-intensity hill running work, and a lot of racing (NMTC, a road 5k and a road half marathon) would be optimal. If I can get up to 85 miles in a week, and string together several 60+ mile weeks, a sub-3 race would be well within reach. 2:45 could be achievable. I think going sub 2:40 would be an amazing life goal, to say I’ve gone “2:30-something”, but that would require an extreme time commitment, and a level of discipline and sacrifice I haven’t really attempted before. As much as that sounds exciting right now, I know myself enough that I strive off some semblance of balance. All of that is way off, anyways. So, for now, I couldn’t be more excited to transition my marathon fitness to trail ultramarathon specific training. Just like I was hoping, I built a great base of marathon stamina and stayed healthy, hitting every NMTC race and did nothing too foolish at Grandma’s Marathon. I have set myself up perfectly for Eugene Curnow Trail Marathon, Voyageur 50 Mile, and Superior Fall Trail 100 Miler coming up.

GPS Data

Race Results

Place: 770/7533
Time: 3:09:38
Pace: 7:15