NOTHING BUT GREEN: A journey through the scenic symphony of Grandma's Marathon

Jun. 23—Running my first marathon was an incredible journey filled with unexpected twists and turns.

I completed Grandma's Marathon with a time of 3 hours, 49 minutes and 2 seconds, a steady 8:45 per mile pace, but the overall experience was so much more than a race — in more ways than one.

Here is a rundown of my venture to the Land of 10,000 Lakes:

It all started with a road trip from Oklahoma to Duluth, Minn., where the race was set to take place. I embarked on this adventure with my best friend Seth Olson, a former coworker of mine at The Lawton Constitution, and our excitement grew as we made our way to the starting line.

We met up in Leavenworth, Kan., and from there, Olson took the wheel and drove us to his parents' house in Chancellor, S.D. It was a pleasant stop along the way, allowing us to catch up and mentally prepare for the marathon. Little did we know that our journey had just begun.

After a restful night, we hit the road early on Friday morning, eager to reach Duluth.

As we arrived at the expo for packet pick-up, a sense of relief washed over Olson. He declared that he was no longer stressed because we had finally made it.

However, just as we parked the car, disaster struck.

The passenger window — which I had rolled down earlier to capture a photo of Lake Superior — got stuck and refused to budge. It was a moment of panic, as we worried about leaving valuables in the car during the expo.

To alleviate our concerns, Olson called a local repair shop, which assured us it could help. In the meantime, we decided to leave the window as it was and take the risk.

Luckily, as if by some stroke of luck, the window miraculously rolled up once we returned from the expo. It was a small victory that relieved our apprehension.

After the expo, we joined Olson's family for a delicious dinner at Olive Garden. I indulged in a plate of ravioli carbonara, savoring every bite of the cheesy goodness. It was a comforting meal that fueled my excitement for the upcoming race.

From there, Olson and I embarked on another leg of our journey, heading to his family's lake cabin in Ely, Minn., a couple of hours away from Duluth. While Olson's family stayed in a hotel in Two Harbors, closer to the start area, we found solace and tranquility at the cabin in Ely, arriving just after 8 p.m.

The night before the marathon was filled with anticipation and nervous energy.

We woke up before dawn, rising at 4 a.m., and hit the road to Two Harbors by 5 a.m. Since parking was not allowed at the starting line, we parked at a nearby grocery store and boarded a bus to the start area.

As we waited for the bus, I took the opportunity to use the bathroom, a decision that proved to be wise.

The sheer number of runners, nearly 9,000 of us, meant that the lines for the bathrooms at the start area were unbelievably long. Even arriving an hour before the race start at 7:45 a.m. didn't guarantee a quick pit stop. Some runners resorted to finding secluded spots in the nearby woods instead.

Once at the starting corral, the crowd was thick, and finding space to move forward became a challenge. The gun went off promptly at 7:45 a.m., but due to the sheer number of participants, it took a few minutes before we could cross the starting line. Thankfully, chip time is the determining factor in races like this, not the gun time.

The words of Garry Bjorklund, whom the half marathon event is named after, echoed in my mind as I embarked on the Grandma's Marathon, ready to experience the beauty of the course.

"Grandma's Marathon starts in the middle of the woods, runs along the beautiful shores of Lake Superior and finishes at a pub."

That statement is synonymous with Grandma's Marathon, and I got to experience its truth firsthand.

The first miles immersed me in the serene woods, surrounded by towering evergreens that stood like sentinels on either side of Scenic Highway 61. With a significant elevation drop in those early miles, the start felt swift and exhilarating.

However, they were a test of patience as I maneuvered through the crowded road, weaving in and out of slower runners. I relied on the run/walk method I had trained with during my long runs, following intervals of 2 minutes and 45 seconds of running with 30 seconds of walking.

Amidst the chaos of finding my stride and seeking pockets of space, I unexpectedly missed my second walk break. It was a small hiccup, but one that reminded me to stay focused and maintain my rhythm.

Around Mile 2, I felt the uncomfortable sensation of a sharp stabbing pain in my right nipple. I quickly realized that the top right safety pin on my bib number had come undone. Taking advantage of my next walk break, I promptly fixed it, ensuring that it wouldn't bother me any longer.

The spectators began to gather around Mile 5 near Knife River, the first popular viewing area along the route. Just a little farther, we passed under the Northern Shore Scenic Railroad Bridge, a familiar sight from the journey to the starting line. The bridge provided VIP viewing for the cheering crowd, creating an electric atmosphere.

As I reached Mile 7, the rolling hills of the course began to make their presence known.

To my relief, these hills didn't pose a significant challenge since my training in Tulsa had prepared me for much tougher terrains. The stunning expanse of Lake Superior came into view around Mile 10, its majestic waters accompanying us for the remainder of the race, offering a picturesque backdrop like no other.

With my pacing strategy in mind, I treated the race as consecutive half marathons, aiming for a comfortable and familiar time of 1:55. As I crossed the 13.1-mile mark, I was right on track at 1:55:04. It was important to establish a sense of normalcy to ease into the daunting task ahead.

Unbeknownst to me, my carefully curated music playlist would play an unexpected role in the race.

In a last-minute decision, I added some worship songs from Life.Church, my church, to my playlist. As those uplifting tunes filled my ears, a sense of peace washed over me, renewing my spirits as I ran. With each stride, I silently thanked Jesus for His grace and for granting me the strength to take on this marathon challenge.

Miles passed in a blend of solitude and the growing presence of Duluth crowds. Leaving the quietness of the Minnesota landscape, we made a turn onto London Road, marking our entry into the city. Here, the vibrant energy of the spectators greeted us, their cheers and music fueling our determination.

A bittersweet moment arose when I passed Olson at Mile 19, realizing that he was dealing with heat exhaustion and lightheadedness. He is typically much faster than me, so concern for his well-being lingered in my mind as I reluctantly left him behind.

The historic Glensheen Mansion and the infamous Lemon Drop Hill near Mile 22 marked significant milestones on the course.

Lemon Drop Hill, the steepest incline, presented a make-or-break moment for many runners. As I ascended the hill, I could feel my legs protesting, threatening to succumb to the notorious "wall", but I remembered my mantra, "Just say yes" and pushed through, cresting the hill with renewed resolve.

Saying "yes" when the marathon asked if I still wanted my goal served as a reminder to keep pushing forward, regardless of the obstacles that lay ahead.

Surprisingly, I even managed to run my third fastest mile of the race on that portion of the course, empowered by the scenic view of Lake Superior.

A welcomed downhill section through the London Road corridor and the Endion neighborhood provided a much-needed boost, reinvigorating my energy for the final stretch. Making turns and passing popular spectator spots along Superior Street, the cheers and support from the crowd propelled me closer to the finish line.

Amidst the race, there was a highlight that truly touched my heart.

At Mile 24, when I needed it the most, I received an early Father's Day gift in the form of a shoutout video from my incredible wife Kelsey and our daughter Ivy. Their words of encouragement played on a jumbotron screen to the left of the course, filling me with an incredible surge of motivation.

Then, to my surprise, a video from my parents, my sister and my brother-in-law immediately ensued, giving me another boost of motivation. The love and support from my family propelled me forward, giving me the strength to push through the final miles.

I ran within myself, staying true to my pace and strategy. Mile after mile, I maintained my planned splits, except for the final mile. That is when the infamous "wall" finally caught up with me, but I refused to let it defeat me. Summoning every ounce of determination, I pushed through the fatigue.

The twists and turns of the last mile eventually led us onto Canal Park Drive, the home stretch.

As my watch signaled a scheduled 30-second walk break, I gratefully took it, though I was only about a quarter mile from the finish. Unexpectedly, a determined female runner approached me, encouraging me not to walk just yet, for we were almost there.

Inspired by her words, I cut my break short and pushed myself with everything I had, sprinting towards the finish line.

It felt surreal, almost like a dream. The streets were lined with spectators, their energy electrifying the air. The music, the balloons and the entire spectacle enveloped me in a moment that can't be replicated — it has to be experienced.

And there it was—the moment I had been waiting for. Crossing that marathon finish line, my life changed forever. The culmination of all my hard work and sacrifices in training became a permanent part of me. I am now a marathon finisher, a title that no one can ever take away.

I was overwhelmed with joy and a sense of accomplishment. My official time of 3:49:02 reflected the months of hard work and dedication I had put into training. What's even more satisfying is that I achieved a negative split, running the second half in 1:53:58, an improvement of 1:06 from the first half.

I officially placed 2,419th of 6,689 finishers and 971st of 2,002 runners in my age group (Male 19-34).

As I basked in the euphoria of accomplishment, the postrace celebration shifted to concern when I attempted to track Olson's progress on the Grandma's Marathon app.

The live tracker showed him moving slowly, and even when he reached the 26.2-mile mark, it still wouldn't confirm his completion of the race. Worried, I reached out to Jaiden, his sister, to inquire about his well-being.

Thankfully, his family had seen him, though he was struggling. With a time of 4:14:38, the heat had taken its toll on him.

Having trained in scorching temperatures during my preparation in Oklahoma, I was grateful that the mid-60s and low 70s of the race day didn't affect me as severely. The humidity, however, remained at a challenging 80%, according to the National Weather Service in Duluth.

Olson's experience wasn't unique, for the heat posed a significant challenge for many runners.

Despite earlier concerns about air quality due to wildfires in Canada, it was ultimately the combination of heat and humidity that proved to be the greatest obstacle. According to the Duluth News Tribune, the medical tent at the finish line attended to around 200 participants suffering from heat-related issues, with eight requiring further hospital treatment.

Among the 14,166 finishers in both the marathon and half marathon, the race day conditions had tested their resilience.

After the race, I savored the local cuisine alongside Olson and his family, enjoying their company for the hours that followed. Our time in Minnesota continued with moments of relaxation, gazing at the serene beauty of White Iron Lake from our cabin.

On Monday, I embraced the tranquility of the lake by kayaking 4.5 miles, finding solace in the peaceful surroundings. Our departure from Ely on Tuesday marked the end of our journey, but not without a few final adventures to conclude the trip in style.

At Tettegouche State Park, Olson and I skipped rocks on the expansive Lake Superior before embarking on a tour of the iconic Split Rock Lighthouse down the road. To complete our adventure, we visited the enchanting waterfalls of Gooseberry Falls State Park and stopped at Betty's Pies in Two Harbors to enjoy Butterfinger Cream milkshakes before returning to Duluth.

There, we indulged in a meal at Pizza Lucé, savoring the flavors before embarking on the long journey back to Leavenworth.

Finally, on Wednesday afternoon, I bid farewell to Olson and arrived home in Oklahoma by 7 p.m.

With each step I took, I embraced the lessons this marathon had taught me.

It was a journey of self-discovery, showcasing my capabilities and the power of perseverance. I am filled with gratitude for the support and well wishes I received from the community, who believed in me every step of the way.

I would be remiss if I didn't mention the invaluable assistance I received during my training. Kelly Kilmer and Chad Noblett, my Fleet Feet training partners who guided me through those grueling long runs, played a crucial role in my success. Their encouragement and expertise pushed me beyond my limits and helped me become the runner I am today.

I also wanted to give a shoutout to Olson's sister, Jaiden, who ran the half marathon and achieved a personal best time of 1:52:21, shedding two minutes off her previous best. It was a remarkable achievement and a testament to her dedication and hard work.

As I reflect on this marathon, I am already looking ahead to new adventures and milestones.

The experience has ignited a fire within me, fueling my desire to set new goals and conquer even greater challenges. With the support of my loved ones and the lessons I've learned along the way, I am ready to embrace what the future holds.

The plan now is to relish the two weeks following the race, taking a break from running to recover both mentally and physically to prevent burnout and injury.

When I resume my training on July 1, I will start from the ground up, focusing on improving my 1-mile time for four weeks. From there, I will progress to 5K training, dedicating eight weeks to refining my skills.

Afterward, I will fine-tune my abilities in the 10K distance before setting my sights on the Route 66 Half Marathon in November. I was named a run ambassador for the Route 66 Marathon event weekend earlier this week, so expect much more running content from me in the coming months.

With my next marathon planned for December, my journey as a runner continues, fueled by the unforgettable experience of Grandma's Marathon and the unwavering determination to push my limits.

To all those who have cheered me on, thank you. Your belief in me has been unwavering, and I am immensely grateful.

Here is to more incredible journeys, more finish lines crossed and more moments of triumph.

Onward and upward, always.