5 at 50 Part IV: Stride Ahead, Reach Back

Running with past selves, merciful motel remodels, and a fast half-marathon.

Something wet—or leaking—was dragged the full length of the third-floor hallway of Americas Best Value Inn, staining the blue carpet black in a body-width path.

In our room, nicotine dripped from the popcorn ceiling through thick coats of yellowed paint. We rolled out our sleeping bags across the bed, trying not to disturb the scene, and slept lightly.

Fast-forward a decade. That seedy Missoula flop has been remodeled mountain modern and rebranded LOGE Camps: “The Hotel That Gets You Outside.” Rooms have bike racks, boot dryers, and—notable if for no other reason than an apparent disregard for safety—hammocks strung to the rafters.

But the place is fresh, current. It’s as if LOGE reached a hand back and pulled America’s Best into 2024. The bones of the old hotel remain, the walls still talk. They just gave up smoking, stay hydrated, and get to bed at a reasonable hour.

Running With Past Selves

At four in the morning on June 30th, I close the door to our room at LOGE, jog to the University of Montana campus, and catch the first shuttle to the start of this year’s Missoula Half Marathon. I spend the next ninety minutes shuffling and shaking out. As the sun rises over Mount Sentinel in the distance, I remember.

Missoula, 2009. My dad rides his bike ahead of me in my first marathon, stopping every few miles to snap a photo on his flip phone and offer a word of wisdom.

Six miles left… Just a lunch run now.

Looking good, stay smooth.

Last mile, buddy… Remember this.

And I do remember. I remember rounding the final turn onto Higgins Street Bridge, finish line in sight, my mom and stepdad cheering from the crowd on my left. To my right, a runner falters, slows, groans. I implore, “Come on, let’s go!” We do, kicking hard to the end.

A few months later, at the 2009 Portland Marathon, it happens again. I’m exhausted, walking it in. And then, a pat on my shoulder from a passing runner: "Let's go! You can do it." I begin to move my legs and catch up with him. “Run like a race leader," he said. I picture Prefontaine and PR by fifteen minutes.

2024: A Fast Half

The Missoula Half course follows many of the same roads as the full, so I expect to feel my dad’s spirit out there, pedaling ahead. What surprises me are the other ways I’m pulled along. From the gun, I am buoyed by lightness. A rightness with body and mind. A connection to the roads under my feet and the landscapes around.

We were living in Missoula when the pandemic hit. Here, locked down in our little apartment, my drinking took hold and nearly took me under. I tried to run but was hurt all the time. I hit bottom here. I got sober here.

Running lightly alongside the Clark Fork River, slow waters shimmering in magenta morning glow, I remember everything—cheered onward from familiar places by the me that used to be. Looking good, Mike. I’m proud of you.

My plan, as it’s been this racing season, is an “easy-steady-go” progression: 6:40 pace for the first third, 6:35 in the middle, and hopefully enough left in the tank for a 6:30 final stretch. But every time I glance at my watch in the first eight miles, it reads 6:20-6:30. I force myself to slow. Glance again, slow again.

The crowds and volunteers are high-vibe. I come to a full stop at aid stations to get plenty of water down in the warm temps. Seconds lost are made up by the energy boost from a quick rest, and a moment spent appreciating and absorbing energy from the people who make days like this possible.

Several times, after running past a group of smiling spectators, that quick watch glance shows 6:15 or 6:00. It’s wondrous what community does for a runner.

And then, pure poetry; I had a chance to reach back and pull someone else. Rounding the final turn onto Beartracks Bridge—formerly Higgins Street Bridge, superbly renamed in 2021—a young man twenty yards ahead falters, slows, groans. He sees me and begins to run, but wilts again after a few steps.

“Come on, let’s go,” I say. And we do, kicking hard to the line.

Missoula Half Marathon
June 30, 2024
Previous PR, 2016: 1:28:26
New PR, 2024: 1:25:18
Place: 48/2475 (2nd in division)

The Finish Line

I work in marketing, so I often think about the idea of service. What does it mean to serve others? The best marketing has this question at its core, because it seeks to give value without asking for anything in return.

Twelve-step recovery anchors to service, too, breaking ingrained patterns of isolation, encouraging people to focus on others in order to strengthen themselves.

No doubt, something special happens when we accept help and see the ways the Universe conspires to lift us up (Read: Humility in a Selfish Sport). Paying it forward—reaching a hand back to pull another person along—is even more meaningful.

I’m grateful for those who have pulled me, and hope some small acts of mine help the running community I hold dear.

Run lightly,
-mike

PS - No newsletter next week… vacationing with the fam! See you the week after.

I’m attempting to PR five distances—from the marathon to the mile—at 50 years old.
Read more from the series: 5 at 50