Garry Bjorklund Half Marathon

Grandma’s Marathon and the weekend as a whole have been a formative part of my upbringing, so it felt like only a matter of time before it finally fit into my racing schedule. Last Thanksgiving, before I had even committed to running the Boston Marathon, I met up with close family friend and the founder of Grandma’s Marathon, Scott Keenan, for a beer on a frigid, snowy northern Minnesota evening at Hoops Brewing in Duluth’s Canal Park to finalize the deal to get me up there for race weekend. At the time he cautioned, “do not run if you are not recovered off your spring Marathon.” Even he could put aside the self interest of finally getting me up to Grandmas to look out for my health. A true family friend.

This race holds extra weight for me because both of my parents are former winners of the marathon (Barney 1978, Janis 1987). Growing up, we would vacation on the North Shore of Lake Superior at least once every summer, and on the drive we would stop in Duluth’s Canal Park to find their bricks in the sidewalk commemorating their wins, visit Hepzibah’s Candy Shop, and watch barges pass through the iconic Lift Bridge.

With the race coming just eight weeks after Boston, Dathan emphasized that we would not compromise the break he feels is necessary after running a marathon. He believes prioritizing that recovery has been a big part of why Hellen Obiri has been able to run two strong marathons year after year. So after some downtime away from workouts, filled mostly with easy running, I returned to a training load of 80–90 miles per week for five weeks before race week. I was ambitious coming off my 2:05 breakthrough marathon in Boston. I was eager to add my name to the history books and build my own legacy at Grandma’s, just as my parents had. Having run 60:02 on an objectively harder course during my Boston buildup, I felt poised to push the pace and take a shot at the course record of 60:17.

The race went off at 6:00 a.m. sharp, the earliest road race start time I think there is. But I wouldn’t have wanted it any other way. Starting on Scenic Highway 61 with the sun rising over Lake Superior to our left was perfect.

I started the race by setting the tone, covering the first mile in 4:34. It felt harder than I would have hoped, but if you’ve been to the North Shore of Lake Superior, you know it’s full long rolling hills. I figured that mile was probably a gradual uphill and things would even out as the race went on.

Acer Iverson, Aidan Reed, and Frank Lara were the main contenders I expected going in. With my goal of running fast, they were content with the pace and tucked in behind me. I kept trying to surge and get us back on course-record pace but the splits drifted closer to 4:40 (course record pace is 4:35). Around five miles, when the trees opened up a bit, I felt the wind for the first time, and it broke my spirit a bit since I knew I was not going to be able to get the pace back down towards the record. The course is point-to-point with only a few turns once you enter town in the final mile, so running into even a modest wind compounds over the 13.1 miles. Even with the record out the window I figured my best shot at winning would be to continue pushing in hopes of cracking the three following suit.

Now approaching the courses only notable hard point “lemon drop hill” between miles 9 and 10 the tank started to run empty. Acer and Aidan moved around me on the climb and made their bid for the finish line. I tried to latch on, but the limited moves I had in my arsenal for the day off the condensed build up were all used up by the time I reached the top of lemon drop hill, and open road grew between me and the front of the race.

I kept fighting the entire way, knowing Frank would be charging hard over the final miles to put himself on the podium. I was able to find enough strength to hold him off despite his strong finish. I ended up third in 61:56.

Despite the short buildup, with only a few weeks at roughly 75% of my full training load, I still wanted to win and expected I could do so. By targeting the course record on a day when the weather proved unfit for it, I may have left myself vulnerable over the final few miles, allowing Aiden and Acer to draft and then launch strong attacks late.

As I was running down the finishing chute, the announcers exclaimed, “This was a huge upset you just witnessed.” But to anyone who followed these athletes spring racing would know they deserved a little more chatter leading into the race than they got. So congratulations to those two runners. At the end of the day, I can still be happy that a Minnesota kid won.

For now, I’ll take a week to reset before building toward a fall marathon that will be determined and announced soon.

I wanted to end this newsletter with a few minimal context shoutouts that made the weekend at Grandma’s special. (This newsletter would be far too long if I explained them all.) Mill City Mafia for showing up everywhere, Canal Park Brewing for being such great hosts for the After Hours Athletics happy hour, North Shore Striders and the pioneers who started Grandma’s Marathon 50 years ago, the Grandma’s Marathon volunteers and organizers for treating athletes with world-class hospitality, Underwood Coffee, Northern Waters Smokehaus, and anyone out cheering Saturday morning (: