​My taper madness has begun early.
 
It seems absurd – there are just over two weeks before my race and I haven’t even done the kind of training that warrants a taper, let alone the madness of one.
 
But here I am.
 
I’ve been a runner long enough to know what it feels like – the list-making, the inventory taking, the random and impulsive gear-buying.
 
Some of it’s been necessary – my Nathan hydration pack, purchased six years ago and worn faithfully for long runs ever since – smells so badly that the kids make faces when they walk by it hanging off a kitchen chair. And the tubing for the bladder … well, let’s just say that I finally gave up trying to get the mold out and tried to tell myself that it wasn’t that gross. Until even I couldn’t take it anymore (it was that gross).

​I have a Salomon backpack that I won at a race a few years ago (in a random drawing, not as a prize for competing, but I don’t lead with that), and it was way more expensive than my beloved Nathan, but I just can’t. It doesn’t have front pockets, and to be honest, the straps across the chest are so confusing to me that I get overwhelmed with how to actually put it on. (Note: Also why I wouldn’t win a prize for something involving spatial intelligence.)
 
With the Zumbro 50-mile race coming up, I knew I needed a new hydration pack, and now a purple version of my stinky old blue one hangs benignly on a kitchen chair, waiting for me to make it all disgusting with my sweat and generally lazy habits.
 
And I bought a new long-sleeve shirt from 605 Running Co. And a new windproof vest. I love both of them, even though I literally have a walk-in closet full of long-sleeve shirts, vests, tights, shorts, cycling clothes, yoga clothes, and soft T-shirts to run in (I seem to have completely given up on technical running tank tops – maybe I’m just getting old and need softer material, or my steadily declining pace is dictating the style of clothes I wear).
 
There’s not a single item I actually need to buy for this race, except some food.
 
But this is what happens during the taper. It is as dangerous to your emotions as it is to your bank account.
 
My friend Kelly, who is doing the 17-miler, has done the same thing. “I think I’m in some nesting phase of race training,” she texted one day about the shorts she randomly bought – even though there’s no guarantee at this point the sun will ever come out again and we’ll ever be able to wear shorts. Ever. Again. (This winter has been long, friends. Maybe I have winter madness, not taper madness.)
 
I’ve been buying running clothes for 30 years, at least, ever since track in high school, when I practiced in an old pair of flowered shorts – compression-style, but that’s not what they were called then, they were more like Jane Fonda-style – and a purple T-shirt my high school skater boyfriend gave me that had a cartoon drawing on it and said: “Alone and nude.” I’m sure that didn’t look weird to my coach at all. I ran in a pair of Nike tennis shoes and raced in my sister Kim’s old spikes that she wore in college. They were white and old and I didn’t wear socks with them because she told me not to.
 
I used to love going through the catalogs and imagining the fancy spikes I would buy if we had the money – like this would somehow bump me from a solid fourth or fifth place anywhere up in the pack (I did once win my heat in the 400).
 
But this is what runners do.
 
I don’t have the training logs to look back on and console myself that I’m ready for this race, though, to be fair, I’m in better shape than I was at this time last year. I’ve done a few weeks around 50 miles, some back-to-back runs, and faithful yoga and sculpting classes. I’m in generally a better place and have another year of a lifetime of running behind me.
 
But just like in high school, and just like anyone staring at the long-term and wildly unreliable forecast for a race (right now muddy and maybe 60 if we’re lucky), I’m putting all my fears into gear and hoping something at the other end of my debit card can save me.
 
I was thinking about it this weekend as I put on a new pair of trail shoes (which I think I’ll return because I’m pretty sure they run giant and my normal size is absurd feeling – and let’s face it, I don’t need to add unwieldy shoes to my many coordination issues).
 
I’m currently running in five different pairs of shoes and four different brands.
 
I’ve worn Asics for years, have the pair I wore for my first marathon tucked onto a closet shelf. I’m still loyal to them. But then a few years ago, Greg at 605 suggested I try a pair of New Balance. I hadn’t run in them in more than a decade, but I tried them, and now I’m in love (I may love them more than Asics at this point). And then I tried a pair of Brooks – jury’s still out, but no major complaints. And then a pair of trail Asics (after Mizuno discontinued two different trail shoes I loved).
 
And now the Salomon.
 
I don’t know what I’ll wear for the race. I’ll probably buy three more pairs of possible shoes and then wear my old Asics anyway because I’ll get superstitious at the last minute.
 
The answer to all of this, of course, would be doing something like hiring a coach or following a plan or even just taking a deep breath and telling yourself everything’s going to be OK.
 
It’s going to be OK on the first loop, a little worse on the second loop and then you just have to start the third loop, as Natalie said last year. Ain’t nobody coming to get you anyway, so might as well finish.
 
Through the dreadful beach volleyball sand. The slippery rocks. The first six hours in the dark on unfamiliar trails. The aid stations lit up with Christmas lights and full of people who bring you in with their smiles and eye contact – there to help you with whatever you need (note to self: What I need is to spend less time at the aid stations).
 
All my taper madness is wrapped up in gear right now.
 
But in just over two weeks, it will smooth itself out over the miles, in the dark, on the trails, the ridges, the rocks and sand, the power-hiking, the long stretches of silence, the jokes that aren’t funny to anyone else ever again but that make you spit out your water at mile 45.
 
With a huge contingent of Sioux Falls runners heading to Minnesota. With a long drive back.
 
And the belief that I’ll find my own personal Walden once again, at Zumbro.

Jacqueline Palfy is a longtime runner, reader and writer, marathoner, mom and board member of the nonprofit Sioux Falls Area Running Club. Her contributions to the 605 Running Co. blog will appear every other Tuesday. You can follow her on Twitter @runnerJPK or reach her at [email protected]. Story ideas are encouraged.
​

Greg, what’s the course like?

Icy.

All of it?

Pretty much. Be careful.

​This is a conversation I had countless times as I returned from my warm-up prior to the start of the 5 mile race on St. Patrick’s Day in Downtown Sioux Falls. The annual tradition of running the Irishman, a ridiculous joy of a 5 mile race, followed by a 5k race and finishing up with a 1 mile dash down Phillips Avenue to kick off the parade. To be frank you do not run this event because of how well it is organized. In fact the 5k route changed mid-race. You run this event because it brings a whole bunch of runners together to have fun. This year was a coming out party of sorts for the 605 Race Crew. 

​Each year we organize a race team or crew. Our goals are pretty simple. We want to create a team environment for runners to train and compete in local races, at all skill levels and abilities. Each member completes an application and interviews with a staff member from 605 Running Company annually to join the team. This process takes place in November and December for the upcoming year. With over 50 members in 2018 we made a pretty big impact on the streets and bike path of Sioux Falls during the Irishman. This was the first event with our new jerseys – all members are easy to spot in a blue tank top or grey technical tee shirt.

On the competitive side, in the 5 mile race, we had three men in the top four places including the winner Jeremy Van Veen who drove from Aberdeen to participate. On the women’s side of the field we had three in the top seven including Jordin Kopplow taking second place. For the 5k and 1 mile events our team took six of the top seven spots overall. Our very own Benson Lang’at won the 5k race for the men and Tessa Stoltenberg won both the 5k and 1 mile for the women. In a very thrilling 1 mile race Bobby Brockmueller edged Benson for first place. Finally, bringing home the combined events prize, the Irishman title went to Jeremy Van Veen. Not to be out done, one of our most humble members cleaned house wining the Irishman, 5k and the 1 mile in her age division Deb Shissler!
​
For me there is nothing quite like a race day. Especially a home town event. Seeing so many of my awesome crew members out posting Personal Records, making new running friends and celebrating one of my favorite holidays in a healthy manner is so much fun. In the future I hope that this event will continue to grow and be better organized. The one mile race could legitimately attract competitive runners from all around the region. Watching mile times that start with a 4 is a spectacle to behold! The course down Phillips Avenue with the streets packed with people is a unique, one-of-a-kind experience that I hope our community at large can appreciate and celebrate.  

​Greg Koch is the General Manager/Co-Owner of the 605 Running Company. When he is not at the store he volunteers on the Sioux Falls Marathon Board and Co-Coaches his church softball co-ed team. Greg is an avid runner and enjoys being outdoors whenever possible. Follow Greg on Instagram @gregrun605

Hi friends,

Greg Koch here General Manger/Co-Owner of 605 Running Company and I’m training for the Fargo Marathon. This will be my third marathon. My previous efforts were the 2016 Lincoln Marathon and the 2017 Houston Marathon.

For my first trip into marathoning at Lincoln I was a very green runner. I was very prideful and chose to write my own training plan. I often wrote on this blog about my experiences. Looking back is almost comical when I exam my current approach to this distance.

We traveled as a staff for my second effort in Houston and also documented that experience a ton for Skechers Performance who graciously provided us entry. For those of you that remember this is when the bromance between Grant Watley and I started as we trained together for 3/4 of the cycle (until his hip crapped out) and limped to the finish line in the Texas heat 5 minutes apart.

For this effort I was initially hesitant to once again share so much of myself and my experiences, but I’ve had a lot of people ask for this. So today I’m going to share how things are going, praise the heck out of this wonderful community, hype up my coach and speculate a little on my future in marathoning.     

The other day a friend asked me what my weekly mileage was up to. I couldn’t provide him with an answer. For this race I’m working with Coach Jacqui Meadors. While I am by no means an elite athlete I have become a huge believer in working with a coach when training for goal races. Jacqui and I have been friends for awhile. She is one of my running idols and getting an opportunity to work with her has been a dream come true. When looking for a coach I wanted somebody willing to put me in my place and to boss me around when needed. Coach Jacqui is perfectly capable in this capacity. She is a great listener and we organize my training weekly. We often share text messages and emails about workouts and she is always available for questions. Most importantly when we met to discuss my goals she did not laugh me out of the room. When working with a coach it is important to respect their time and talent, trust the training process and to communicate often.
During my first marathon I very much approached training as a very personal journey. I did most of my running solo and treated the experience as some sort of growth opportunity. Think Luke Skywalker entering the cave on Dagobah. Only I didn’t have a Yoda and when I saw Darth Vader I crumbled. As I previously mentioned I got a little more social, training for Houston. Together Grant and I made some serious gains quickly. I ironically told him I wanted to train just like Jacqui Meadors did for the Chicago Marathon.

For this go around I’ve gotten much more social. I started a Facebook group called Sioux Falls Racing in Fargo and begged my friends to help me with my long runs either as support crew or running with me. Building a support group and sharing the journey has been tremendously rewarding and humbling. We live in an incredible community and I’m so thankful for my family and friends that make long runs fun. The process is going well. I’m not where I want to be in terms of speed or endurance, but things are trending in the right direction.

Is this the end or is it just the beginning? That is the question I often contemplate during my longer runs. Training for a marathon is no joke. Beyond the pace and time goals of the actual race, training for this distance takes a huge commitment. Running way too early in the morning, making wise food choices and endless amounts of core work add up. If I’m being completely honest, my run in Fargo will have a huge influence on whether or not I want to continue to train for the marathon distance.

The race is May 19th. You can follow my updates on Instagram @gregrun605. I cannot thank this community enough for all of the support and encouragement. If you are running Fargo or any spring race for that matter and need a social support group or want to join in on a long run checkout our groups on Facebook: Sioux Falls Racing in Fargo and 605 Running Community. And as always if you have running related questions feel free to reach out at [email protected]

​Greg Koch is the General Manager/Co-Owner of the 605 Running Company. When he is not at the store he volunteers on the Sioux Falls Marathon Board and Co-Coaches his church softball co-ed team. Greg is an avid runner and enjoys being outdoors whenever possible. Follow Greg on Instagram @gregrun605

​I texted Owen on a Friday.
 
“Hey. I need straight up accountability. How far are you running these days, and will you make a plan with me?”
 
He’s one of my longest friends in Sioux Falls, my mentor for all things running, and we’ve logged our share of miles over the years. He’s coming back from a winter of a few random illnesses, and I just needed any kind of mileage at any pace in an effort to put back to back long runs together this past weekend.
 
We made a plan where, like the weekend before, I would run a few miles, meet him for the middle, and then have no choice but to run myself home or admit defeat and shame and ask for a ride. So I set out Saturday morning in the dark, carried a water bottle in one hand and felt a GPS watch vibrate in the other as I worked my way to Lincoln High School, site of the traditional Saturday morning Sioux Falls Area Running Club run. I haven’t been to it in a long time, and I was happy to see a few familiar faces still standing there in the parking lot. They went their way, and we went ours, knowing our pace wouldn’t match theirs and selfishly wanting to just run whatever we wanted to run.

​Owen and I headed toward The Falls, a route that is about 8 miles and that together we’ve run many times. The ice slid across the sidewalks and we ran in the street, picked our way over the path under the bridges, came into Falls Park and walked over the bridge, looking at the frozen water.
 
“Have you ever read ‘Kubla Khan’ by Samuel Taylor Coleridge,” I asked him.
 
“I haven’t,” he replied.
 
“Every time I come through here in the winter, it’s all I can think about,” I told him, tried to remember the exact line about the caverns measureless to man, down to a sunless sea, the sunny pleasure dome with caves of ice, the flashing eyes, the floating hair, and all crying ‘Beware, beware.’
 
In my head, I know all the words. In reality, I can pull up a handful of lines in no particular order and what I’m left with instead is just a feeling of dread, and beauty and fear and longing and opium dens and whatever else was imprinted on me the first time I read it, maybe in high school, maybe in college. I hesitated to tell him more, sure I would interpret the lines incorrectly so far removed from actually reading it and instead just having this small bit of repetition in my head mile after mile and winter after winter running through my city’s namesake.
Later on the run, Owen stopped me to point out his favorite sculpture on SculptureWalk (the horse on a wheel in front of The Source) and we passed a house where a former professor of Owen’s used to live and he told me about his work. He was an art major in college, and he understands when all you have left about something is a feeling.
 
Maybe that’s the greatest compliment to someone’s work – when you aren’t left with the specifics but with an emotion that just stays with you. Anyone can memorize something, a word or a brush stroke or a composition.
 
I’ve been listening to The Current – Minnesota Public Radio’s music station -- streamed through the computer a ton at home lately. Most of the time it just plays and I let it, and every once in a while I have to stop what I’m doing and figure out who is actually singing.
 
It’s no secret that I love sad songs, love stripped down female vocals, love it slow, so slow and spare, barely anything there.
 
I kept hearing songs from Reina del Cid, a singer-songwriter from Minneapolis who may be my most recent Cat Power replacement. She has a song in heavy rotation, and I bought the album and the one that came before it and a single just because of the title (“Lover, Be Mine”).
 
I can’t stop. I’ve been playing the albums over and over, as she sings on “Let’s Begin”, “You could be my lover, all the fish in the sea, they don’t mean a thing to me, because I don’t want no other. … So oh, my dear, dear friend, let’s begin.”
 
Isn’t that all you want?
 
To begin. To begin the training. To begin the love. To begin whatever chapter or painting is next. It’s not an impatient feeling, but a hopeful one.
 
It’s standing and staring at the caves of ice. The days you get by until your feelings multiply and you get pulled over, as she sings.
 
“There’s nobody else in this world who keeps my starving heart fed,” she sings.
 
I felt like I got that this weekend, putting together 15 miles on Saturday and 12 on Sunday and ending the week close to 50 miles, the best week in a year for me, thanks to various friends who were standing in the dark when I asked them to be.
 
Scott Kennedy and I recently lamented how tough it is to stay motivated in this weird season between winter and spring, with all the hope of upcoming races being covered every weekend with more ice and random snow and blowing wind.
 
To combat that, we created a public segment on Strava, a social network for runners and hikers and cyclists. It’s just a mile – from the 26th Street bridge on the bike path south toward Pasley Park. Run it, log it on Strava, and be entered to win a prize every week in March.
 
This week, we had more than 30 people go over it, and we gave our first prize – a gift card and a family membership to the Sioux Falls Area Running Club – to Kristi Earl.
 
As a club, we support runners of all ages and abilities, on trails and bike paths and treadmills, alone and in groups, with walk breaks and winning races.
 
Later in the weekend, I noticed Reina del Cid was singing a song called “Xanadu” that referenced the same poem I had mentioned to Owen, with the lines, “Now you have gone and lost my company, just like Kubla Khan did lose his dome to the sea.”
 
We won’t let you do that. Not this spring.
 
Let the ice melt. Like the snow stop.
 
Keep logging the miles in this gloaming between blizzards and thunderstorms.
 
Oh my dear, dear friends.
 
Let’s begin.

Jacqueline Palfy is a longtime runner, reader and writer, marathoner, mom and board member of the nonprofit Sioux Falls Area Running Club. Her contributions to the 605 Running Co. blog will appear every other Tuesday. You can follow her on Twitter @runnerJPK or reach her at [email protected]. Story ideas are encouraged.
​