FARGO MARATHON...AGAIN

 North Dakota

May 31, 2025

On the drive home, coming off the high of running down Mt. Charleston, I plant the idea of running one more marathon in my husband's brain. He had high hopes of attaining his BQ on the downhill too, but a severe calf cramp at mile 18 ended his dream for that day. I don't want his rigorous training schedule to go to waste. If we jump back into maintenance he may be able to capitalize on the last training cycle.  We remember loving the Fargo Marathon back in 2017. It started and ended inside the Fargodome and the course was filled with  many cheering residents along tree lined streets and many loud cheering students throughout the campus of the two colleges we traversed. Once home I put that out of my mind and focus on recovery and getting back to regular gym workouts. It takes a few weeks to fully recover from the muscle tears and the stress the marathon puts on the body especially the "older body!"  

Lots of miles with tree canopies

Out of the blue my husband, a few weeks later, lets me know that I qualify for a free entry with my time from Mt. Charleston and he wants to give Fargo a try. Hot damn, we are back in business and switch back into marathon mode.  He does more intense runs as I struggle with a hamstring strain and tight IT band. Lots of things have changed since 2017 the flight and hotel are more expensive as well as the rental car, but we are committed to giving that elusive BQ attempt another shot. Five weeks is not a lot of time. I concentrate on my recovery and finishing a front yard project while my husband focuses on his running.

It took me over 2 months to dig out the lawn

A few travel hiccups later we make it to Fargo ready to run through the city once again. It happens to be the 50 States Marathon reunion event. We strike up a conversation with the club founder at the expo and he tells us to come to the meeting. We were never formally presented our award for completing the 50 states challenge and they want to make it official six years later. We decide to go and it is fun to hear other runners talk about their 50 states journey and share about ours too.

The good old days

Without further ado race morning is upon us. No noisy hotel hallways to disrupt sleep, we awake ready to run. The second time around isn't quite as special, there were no guest speakers at the expo (Dave the Boston Marathon race director was amazing and inspirational in 2017) and the race starts outside the Fargodome there will be no jumbotrom photo finish to watch runners cross the finish line from inside the stadium. The delicious pizza and Nutbutter cookies as the finish line reward is replaced with a banana and a bag of pretzels, but that is later first we have to run the miles.

Since I have the free entry I have to start with the front pack, my time will be all gun time no chip timing for me, so I want to get as close to the front as possible without interfering with the serious runners. I know based on my hamstring strain I will not be going for a PR just a run around town. My husband elects to start with the 3:50 pacers but they are clearly way under pace and going out too fast, he eventually paces himself. The goal once he passes me at the start is to not see him again until the finish. If I catch up to him that's not a good sign. We don't have ideal weather conditions for running. It is unusually hot and the air is filled with smoke from the Canadian fires. Heat is not my husband's friend. 

The race lost its longtime race director in 2023, he was tragically killed while riding his bike and the race and community lost a hometown hero. The race was taken over by a running event company although Mark can never be replaced the event is still good it is just not the same. The special touches and atmosphere can't be replicated without someone who knows and loves the town and the event. The marathon date moved to the end of May which eliminates the enthusiasm of running through the colleges without any students. The tree lined streets are sparely splattered with people. Where are all the people having neighborhood block parties? Where are the fireball shots? The bands and music are more like one man operations and a few ladies blasting music on their car stereo, but those that do come out are greatly appreciated. That's is the thing about life nothing stays the same, we just roll with the punches and appreciate what any day gives us. Waking up is the blessing and that can never be taken for granted.

Talking makes you forget the struggle

My running is slow, the bounce I had in my step at the beginning of the last marathon is a mere memory. My pace is considerably slower and I am struggling along at mile five we run through a brand new neighborhood with beautiful homes and I catch up to the four hour pacer. I tuck in with them. Once we are back to the tree lined streets I ask a man if he is having fun yet. The best way to gain strength is through shared torment. We run together for approximately four to five miles. Conversation helps the time pass and it always has a way of increasing my pace. Those miles end up being my fastest miles of the day. As I approach the halfway mark, I see my husband heading back after the turnaround. His head is down so that is not a good indication of things to come.  I don't want to catch him...

Well, I catch him at the bell tower, he is having trouble with his groin. That's the thing about running you just never know when your body will refuse to cooperate with your plans. The body has plans of its own. Sadly, I have to let him go we decided long ago that we each have to run our own races. The journey is a battle between what the mind wants and what the body with tolerate. Sometimes the mind wins and we overcome and sometimes the body wins and we relent.

I am battling my own mind, currently I am under the belief that the first half was a struggle, but now I am feeling better and I think I can go for a negative split in the second half. Now would be the time to laugh out loud.  Lofty goals mid-run are truly funny. Something happens to our minds when we run and sometimes we believe the impossible is possible if only for a moment. That idea quickly dissipates in the waning miles. The final goal is to pick up my leg put it back down and pick up the other leg and put it down without letting my body persuade my mind into slowing down or even worse...walking. The few neighbors out in the final miles keep me going. A few homeowners have their hoses out to cool off runners and I did spot one Elvis singing his heart out. We are serenaded with the bagpipers at the Veteran's Memorial and the final run through the downtown section displaying the iconic Fargo sign. 

All in all it is a good marathon run. The celebration at the end is lackluster. Runners must walk all the way across the street to wait in a long line to get their free beer at the Buffalo Wild Wings...pass. We hobble back to the car to shower at the hotel before hitting up the Lucky 13 bar where the entire bar is participating in Bingo. We elect to eat and enjoy a beer minus the bingo. The pub crawl to earn another medal is no longer in existence and we aren't up for five beers anyway. After a visit to the Welcome Center to get a picture with the original woodchipper used in the movie Fargo, we hit up Culver's for a turtle sundae with extra fudge. The perfect nightcap to our little North Dakota adventure.

A week after our return my husband opens up the sliding glass door and yells out to me while I am watering the fruit trees..."They will give you a free entry to the Santa Rosa Marathon" and since it is national run day he gets a twenty percent discount off his entry. I guess he is ready to go for that BQ attempt one more time before the 2026 sign-ups begin in September. I love his fighting spirit, if at first you do not succeed Try Try Again.   And isn't that what life is all about learning, growing, striving and never giving up. Every day is another chance to dream a new dream, accomplish goals and relish new opportunities. Life is not a dress rehearsal get out there and make the most of it.

That's way too big a beer for an old lady