Saturday was the big run. Stef and I drove out to Bull Island on the Delaware River in driving rain, enthusiastic and ready to go in spite of the foul weather. We were both pretty keyed up, having double-dosed with coffee after restless nights. I had laid in bed awake for much of the night, excited about the run ahead, and unable to calm my mind. Thirty-two miles lay ahead of us. We have both run our fair share of marathons, but I have only gone beyond that distance a handful of times, and Stef never before. Any run like this is always an adventure; the outcome is never a foregone conclusion
It was surprisingly warm for mid November, about 60 degrees, so we weren’t too worried about hypothermia. Running in the rain for more than a mile or two is always tricky, as your clothing starts to stick to your skin and chafing is inevitable. Blisters are much more likely to occur when your socks are wet, and heavy sodden shoes and clothing take away much of your energy. And when the humidity is high enough that it’s raining (or on the verge of raining), your sweat doesn’t evaporate and cool you off. But we put these things in the far back reaches of our minds and set off, starting the watch and heading across the bridge into Pennsylvania.
We turned north and immediately climbed down the bank to the ancient canal towpath between the river’s edge and the murky trough of the old Delaware Canal. The towpath has been unused for 150 years, and is rocky and eroded and overgrown, traveled only by deer and the occasional hiker. We carefully bounded along this rough section for a couple of challenging miles with no unfortunate ankle sprains for falls. Then suddenly the towpath completely disappeared, and we climbed back up the embankment to the adjacent road. Luckily, on this particular rainy morning there was very little traffic on this narrow, shoulderless road, and we were able to cruise comfortably for a couple of miles until we reached the village of Point Pleasant PA, where the towpath has been restored into a gorgeous bike trail. Stef had brought along a water bottle, and we sipped regularly and took turns carrying it.
The rain at this point was tapering off, and we were starting to overheat. I was wearing only a Dri-Fit short-sleeved shirt and shorts, but Stef had started out with a windbreaker, long-sleeved Dri-Fit jersey, and capri pants. I was starting to chafe a bit already, so I stripped off my shirt, and Stef peeled off all her layers down to a sports bra. It felt great to cool off again, and we kept motoring along, dodging puddles and chatting away. The miles flew by as we cruised at a very easy 9:30-9:45 pace.
My roots are in the Delaware Valley. My grandparents are from New Hope PA and were married 70 years ago at Solebury Friends Meeting. My memories of visiting my father’s family when I was a kid are drawn around the backdrop of the river and the towns along its banks. I’ve paddled it dozens of times with my dad, uncles, cousins, and my wife. While we were running, I was telling Stef the story about how the day after Christmas 1976 my grandfather and I drove this long stretch of the Delaware from the 206 bridge at Dingman’s Ferry all the way down to Washington’s Crossing and back, stopping at every bridge and walking across and back. That weather had been extremely cold, and the river had frozen so thick that the thick shell of ice had shattered, and huge chunks crashed through the dark water below us. I still have a vivid memory of what was a pretty cool adventure.
Nine miles and 1:24 into the run, we arrived in Uhlerstown PA, and crossed the bridge into Frenchtown NJ. We made a quick stop at the Bridge Cafe and bought two bottles of Powerade and a glazed donut. After a brief pause to stretch, and a minute of easy walking, we settled back into cruising speed, heading south into a cool breeze coming off the river. On this side of the river, the old Delaware and Raritan Canal towpath - which later became a railroad bed - is now a great bike path made of crushed gravel. I chose this route mostly for the low-impact surface and the relatively flat terrain. Solitude was the other benefit. The weather kept most other users at home, and we saw only the occasional dog walker. A few miles into this leg, we stopped and picked up another bottle of Gatorade we had stashed along the route on our drive down. We were hydrating really well and feeling really good.
About 15 miles in I could feel a hot spot on the bottom of one of my toes, and I knew a blister was coming. I tried to adjust my stride a bit and wiggle my toes around, and that seemed to help a bit. Fortunately, it didn’t grow into a major problem. Still feeling pretty decent, we arrived back at Bull Island after 18-1/2 miles and 2:58. We stopped at the car for a few minutes, wiping off our muddy legs and changing into dry socks. We called Erik and Jen, who were hanging out at our house in North Plainfield, and told them to head on down to Lambertville to meet us. And then we hit the trail again, feeling refreshed and ready to face another 14 miles.
We stayed on the NJ side for a few miles until we reached Stockton, which was our next opportunity to cross the river. The sun was trying to peek through the clouds, the rain was gone, and the temperature was comfortable. The last four miles into New Hope PA were gorgeous and interesting, and we kept our pace up just fine, but we were both tightening up a bit. Stef slowed just a bit, but still seemed to be strong. Finally, we reached New Hope and crossed the bridge back over to Lambertville NJ. Jen and Erik were waiting for us at a coffee shop there. Jen was ready to run, but we gave Stef a chance to rest on a bench while we ran to Erik’s car for a bottle of water. And then we were off, 25 miles down in 4:09.
The last mile of a marathon is always brutally tough, and it’s even worse when you know you have seven more to go. The sky was clearing, and with the breeze behind us it was getting uncomfortably warm. Even a hibernating garter snake had emerged from his hole and was sunning himself on the towpath. The trail was getting more crowded with runners and cyclists, so the three of us were often running in single file to let others pass. We passed the marathon point at 4:21, which is only a few minutes off Stef’s PR of 4:15. She was having a stellar day, running impressively. However, the miles were starting to hurt, and we both started dragging a little bit. We passed through Stockton again at the 29-mile mark, taking a moment to stretch, and kept plugging on. The sun was starting to dive toward the horizon, and the sky was darkening again as we counted the miles and noted familiar landmarks that told us we were getting close. I stopped to pee quickly, letting the girls run ahead, and then picked up my pace for a quarter mile to bridge the gap up to them. I felt fine, but that was much more difficult to do than it might normally have been. Once I caught them, Stef suddenly picked up the pace, pushing faster than even Jen could sustain with even relatively fresh legs, perhaps an 8:00 pace. I could feel my legs start to sizzle a bit, and I knew I couldn’t keep it up much longer. Ahead in the fading light we could see what looked like the gates to Bull Island. Stef said that if it wasn’t the gate, she was done . . . we should just come back with the car and get her. But she pressed on, and luckily we were right about the gates - we motored into Bull Island feeling relieved and elated.
Big hugs all around, and then we collapsed into the car. We got out of damp, sweaty clothes and took water bottle showers in the parking lot, cleaning up the best that we could. We were starving, and we inhaled what was left of our stash of energy bars. We motored back down to Lambertville to meet Erik, and then went to my favorite tavern, Anton’s at the Swan Hotel. We all ordered their amazing sirloin burgers (the best in NJ, I swear!) with blue cheese and potato salad on the side, and toasted our run with some good Zinfandel. That was a very satisfying end to the day.
Today (Sunday) I feel fantastic. My quads are a bit stiff, but the soreness is minimal. I took the day off from running or cycling, but still walked a couple of miles with Jen and Winston. My energy level is good. I’m pleased with the quality of the run, the respectable pace, with how well we hydrated and fueled, and with the fact that I felt like I could have kept going for another few miles.
So here’s the inevitable question: What’s next?
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