Last Sunday I was one of the lead bikes in the Vermont City Marathon. Two of us started ahead of the lead runners and behind a motorcycle. After a couple miles the lead pack split with the eventual winner pulling away. The other biker went with him. I then led the chase pack of eight runners that winnowed to four by mile 6 and stayed together for most of the next ten. Eventually two runners emerged and my charge was to make sure they had a clear path to run as we caught up with slower runners still on their first loop of the two-loop race. This was easier said than done as most of these slower runners were plugged in and oblivious to what was going on around them. I let the runners I was leading know I’d do my best to give them a straight shot.
The day before I was a course monitor for the Mini-Milers races, which were ½ mile, 1 mile, and 2 miles in length, all finishing down the chute where the following day’s marathon finished. Over 700 kids ran, ages 4 to 14, mostly in the younger categories. The energy and joy was evident. While some of the youngest kids seemed nervous, most were having a good time. These are future runners in the making!
The runners I led in the marathon ran 2:19, a 5:20 pace, so I had the chance to see first-hand what it’s like to run a marathon at that speed. Compare this to my marathon PR pace of 6:36––a big difference. Though on a bike, I was close enough to get a good sense of how they were working together and the choices being made to keep the hammer down. This was in real time and it’s a totally different experience from watching a race on TV or online. While these runners are not on par with those now running close to or breaking two-hour hours, they are still very serious runners, with the top ones qualifying for the Olympic Trials. On the hills I had to work hard stay ahead of them!
Staying engaged in running is possible in various ways. Gratefully, I can still show up at races up to a half marathon as a participant. For a marathon, I’m quite happy to push the pedals to be part of it, knowing that I am helping to keep the runners safe, on course, and relieve them from having to worry about colliding with slower runners. They have enough to do without thinking about that. I expect next year, I will once again be out front––on my bike.
I ran the James Joyce Ramble 10K in Dedham MA today, the 40th running of this race. I have done it 12 or 13 times. The course is fair but challenging with a four-mile loop bookended by a one-mile out and back at the start/finish. What makes this event rather unique is that the founder, Martin Hanley, is a James Joyce afficionado and has always had readers along the course dressed in traditional Joyce garb quoting from the Ulysses. Todaythere were four readers clustered in the hilly fourth mile section through the Greenough and Nobles School campus, providing a welcomed distraction from those hills.
This was the 11th straight year the Ramble has served as the National USATF Masters 10K Championship. Being a national race, it draws an impressive array of Masters runners from around the country. More than half the field was from out of state. Those of us who have run these races over the years have gotten to know each other. These are the hard cores! While the national races are not large, the depth of the runners is deep. Case in point, the Masters race, which preceded the larger Citizen’s race by three minutes, had only 213 runners. But 40% of the field achieved at least an 80% age-grading, a level considered national class, with many of those in the mid to high 80s and four over 90%, which is simply off the charts! In most local races 1% to 3% might race above the 80% level. Further, 58% age-graded at least at 75%, which denotes a high-level regional runner. In comparison a typical race might have 6-8% achieving 75%. Stiff competition!
This is also a rare race (that is not a Senior Games event) where the 60+ year olds outnumbered those under 60, though the split was close. For the men 67 vs. 59; for women 45 vs. 43. Granted, the field starts at 40 but it’s still great to be part of an event that values older runners while still drawing serious competitors at scale. Yet, it does not obscure the fact that as we age, participation declines. Combining the men and women, there were 29 in 70-74, 12 in 75-79, and 8 in 80+. An unusual result was that the largest men’s age group was 70-74 with 20 finishers. Sometimes, it just works out that way. In my 75-79 group, some of the “regulars” did not make it, which enabled me to take second out of seven with a time just 16 seconds slower than 2025, when I was fifth (the age-grade tables suggest I should have expected to slow by 52 seconds, so my age-grading improved year-over-year.)
It’s great having at least one National USATF Masters race in New England. Overall attendance was down some this year and I wonder if the Ramble will make it to 12 straight in 2027. A continuing drawback is the race is either one or two weeks after Boston — this year it was one week, which may have affected turnout.
Meanwhile, we all keep ramblin’ on as best we can.
They just keep coming – those birthdays. Maybe when we were 8, 16, or even 21, we couldn’t wait until the next one. No longer. Now we want them to stop. Of course, we have no control over that. All that I can do is make the best use of the time given.
Looking at the last 12 months, it was by many accounts a strong running year. I was not constrained by injury for 10 ½ months of that year, exceeded an 80% age grading in 13 of the 16 races, topping out at 84% in a half marathon. I set two age-class course records in local races. Average weekly mileage was 26, just a hair above the prior 12 months. My 5K to 10K times held steady and in some cases decreased year-over-year, whereas the age-grade tables suggest I should have slowed 52 seconds for a 10K. In younger years, standing pat might have suggested a slacking off in training. As we move through our 70s that may instead indicate we are doing some of the right things.
So, now it’s into a new year. What am I aiming for? First, I’d like to achieve an 80% age-grading in races I’m intending to race hard, such as the series’ championship races. In fact, I hope to be closer to 82% as much as possible. I’d like to stay injury free for the full 12 months and average 30 miles a week, something I haven’t done in 11 years. I see that as part of the push-back on aging. Lower base mileage works against us. In particular, I’d like to include a 12-miler about every three weeks. In addition, I see being more regular with hill work. While I have been pretty consistent with track workouts and form drills and look to maintain that, I think more targeted lower body strength work and flexibility are needed. I recently participated in a research study (see Data Collection post) and was embarrassed about how little strength and flexibility I showed. There’s work to do!
This will also be the year I publish Staying With It: Reflections on Running and Aging, a memoir type book composed of about 80 essays. This is something I’ve put a lot of time into over the past eight months. It will be gratifying to get it across the finish line, but then the question arises: How do I get it out there?
My first 78 year-old race will be the James Joyce Ramble 10K in Dedham MA in two weeks. This is a race I’ve run numerous times and it is the 10th year it has been the National Masters 10K Championship. A number of the top guns from around the country will be there. Don’t have to wait to test myself in a new year.
Overall, it’s good (great!) to still be running and have an opportunity to set running goals and shoot for them. I don’t take that for granted.
It’s been some years since I’ve considered myself a hill runner. The same hills in races I do have become increasingly hard. And this has morphed into a mental block. I go to sleep the night before dreading the hills I will be running in the morning.
Last Saturday I ran the hilly Frank Nealon 15K (a.k.a. the Boston Tune Up), which is part of this year’s Grand Prix series. It is typically held two or three weeks before the Boston Marathon. It’s now a modified out-and-back course with two loops in the middle. Leading up to the race, my mileage had been so-so, inching up toward 30 miles weekly after having run only 44 in January as I recovered from a glute medius issue. This had kept me from running the New Bedford Half Marathon in March, the first Grand Prix race. I had fit in a 9M and 10M run two weeks before the BTU, but my speed and hill work was lacking. Bottom line, I did not have a good feeling about this race.
So off we went. It was a good day for running – in the mid 50s and not too windy. My goal was to run an average 8:20 pace. Last year I had run 8:06, was in better shape and a year younger! Starting conservatively, the first three miles were net downhill and I averaged 8:08. Then we came to the middle two miles – where the real hills were, with the steepest one in the middle of the fourth mile. Both my cadence and stride length tanked as people started passing me, though some others were struggling as well. We were co-slogging!
I abhor walking in a race. I have not bought into the Galloway Run-Walk method. When I enter a race, it’s to run, not power walk. It’s a pride thing I suppose. And deep down I think even a slow uphill jog is faster than walking. So, I inched up this hill, turned a corner and saw an even steeper rise. I was not enjoying it at all. I started thinking about the reasons I had for skipping this race. Yet here I was, having made the effort to travel down from Vermont. Then I started thinking: “Hey, what do I really have to prove?” As I plodded along, I didn’t have an answer. So, almost reflexively I started walking, just for five or six seconds, and then resumed my slog. After 15 seconds of that I walked another five or six seconds, then 15 seconds of slog before walking another few seconds and finally cresting the hill which quickly turned into a nice even downhill.
Maybe that brief amount of walking gave me some respite so when the downhill came, I could pick it up. Anyhow, post-race I saw my split for that mile was 8:43, which turned out to be my slowest mile enroute to an 8:22 average pace, just short of my goal. Two other miles had good-sized hills and my time on those was 8:36 and 8:33, but I did not walk on them. Maybe that was the difference. Not sure.
I recall walking in the last eight miles of the 2001 Boston Marathon. I had not finished Boston in the previous three tries and was determined to do so, even with some walking. As I finished that race, I was relieved to be done without any memorable negative thoughts about having walked. As I finished the BTU, the same thoughts emerged. I had prevailed and run a race in a respectable time on a short base of training. Now I needed to give myself a good week to recover with easy runs.
I have an October half marathon scheduled with a sizable hill in mile 12. I don’t want to think I set a precedent at the BTU for walking there. But if my training has been cut short, for whatever reason, and I still choose to run that race, a bit (just a bit!) of walking might be in order.
I am slowly rebounding from the hip injury described in the prior post. My physical therapist quickly assessed the problem – an imbalance between my hips. The muscles were pulling in different directions putting pressure on the glute medius, the source of the pain. Some stretching and massage got me back into alignment and two subsequent appointments showed the alignment holding. By then it had been six weeks since I had been able to train and three since running at all. We developed a plan for a gradual return to action. My first week was three runs totaling 10 miles ( 3, 3, 4). This was followed by 18 miles (4, 4, 5, 5). And this week I’m hoping for 22 miles (5, 5, 6, 6). However, these runs have averaged around a 10:00 pace, following the prescription of increasing distance first and then speed.
This comes at a time of extreme cold and snow in Vermont, along with much of New England. We hit minus 13 one day with several days not exceeding zero. Then we had over a foot of snow. I had hoped to avoid going to the indoor track as the turns there may have led, in part, to this problem in the first place when doing speed workouts. This has required some creativity to get in the runs. First, bundling up and finding places that have been plowed. Second, going to the upstairs track at UVM that has more gentle cornering and running a slower pace. It appears I am on the mend and will be able to continue training with low to mid 20-mile weeks, while picking up speed.
Timing is of the essence. And in 10 days, I had hoped to run the Bedford NH 4M race. Last year, this race was snowed out and this year the cold seems to be hanging on with race day forecasted to be in the mid-20s. Not a day to test a rehabbing hip. Yet it’s the first Grand Prix race and I do my best to make these races. This suggests that if I make the trek to that race, I must accept a much slower time than expected — maybe an 8:30 pace, at best. Two years ago, I ran a 7:53 pace at the back end of recovery from a hamstring injury. Based on races last fall, I had been hoping for something in the 7:45 race. That is out of range. The question, then, is do I enter this race, probably not having run anything less than a 9:00 pace, aiming to run 8:30 – 8:45 for the four miles and potentially aggravate the hip. Or do I fully accept the situation and wait until I am in Florida to run a 5K and 3K with another three weeks of training under my belt.
I find it’s always important to take the long view on these things. Yet I am conflicted. I want to be part of the team effort and see folks from the other clubs, too. And even at a slower pace I would contribute. Already, I plan to miss the half marathon on March 15th. I probably can’t be ready for a race of that length in six weeks as it will likely be a month before I can run 10 miles. Maybe if the expected conditions were better, it would make the decision easier. Meeting folks to leave here at 5:30 a.m. and then drive back making it an eight hour trip adds to the conundrum. It just feels like a push.
Ultimately, this seems to be coming down to a matter of acceptance.
I participated in a research study at UVM this week. The aim is to assess subjects’ biomechanics through a series of basic jumping and flexibility exercises and then film them doing a 1.5 mile time trial to determine if observed biomechanical imbalances might affect performance. The two groups of subjects are those under 30 and over 50, so measurements will be compared between the groups. All must be active runners and have recently raced. Full disclosure, I played a small role in designing the study and am helping to recruit older subjects to participate. I am also hoping to work with the two professors conducting this study on other projects. So, there was interest on my part to make a good showing.
The protocol seemed simple enough: demonstrate biomechanical integrity and then run the time trial. The second part was in my wheelhouse. We were on the indoor track I regularly use during the winter. I know that 1/10th of a mile track like the back of my hand. The first part was the wakeup call.
The session began with some warmups. Leg kicks while moving forward and then some quick side stepping back and forth for 20 yards. I felt like my limbs were sticks of wood with minimal flexibility. Then there were four dynamic single-legged jumps and landings and flexibility squats. Nothing fancy. The young student demonstrating them made it look simple enough. The 72 year-old who preceded me looked nimble doing them. Then it was my turn. My jumps barely made it off the ground and my landings had me falling left or right. The squats were a disaster. They needed three camera shots to establish a baseline and I had to go five or six times to get in three they could use. Even those were suspect I felt. I looked at my professors but they gave no hint of whether my lack of balance surprised them. It certainly had surprised me!
In fact, I was embarrassed. I do regular strength training and flexibility work but nothing quite like what I was being asked to do. It was obvious I had been missing the boat on some basic movements in my training. I sat down later that day and took stock of my routine. I added a couple of exercises that mimicked what I had been asked to do. If there is a Round 2, I want to be ready! But more important, I was seeing some gaps that needed filling.
The time trial went well enough. I was in my comfort zone with that, though my pace was only about what I had run a half marathon in earlier that fall. But all in all, it was a useful exercise, and certainly a wakeup call!
Yesterday I ran an out-and-back 10K in Shelburne VT. It’s a race I’ve run several times before, though it had been a few years, so I knew the course well enough. The first mile is a long uphill from the start away from Shelburne Town Beach. The 5K turnaround is at the Charlotte Beach, also by the lake, and there’s a decent descent to that beach and then a rise on the way back. Not surprising, my fastest mile was the third, followed by the second slowest for the fourth.
The tricky part of this course were the second and fifth miles, which largely mirrored each other. Going out I was sure there was a slight uphill, though I felt good and my RPE was probably around 7.0. I looked forward to having that incline reversed coming back. Strangely, the course seemed to rise in the fifth mile, which turned out to be my slowest mile by 20 seconds, reflecting an RPE exceeding 8.0. The saying, “what goes up, must come down” popped into my head, but it didn’t help. I vaguely recalled a similar occurrence in the middle of the course in other years.
There were no doubt at least three variables involved. One, there was a slight headwind going back, not something I noticed outbound. Two, later in the race I was feeling the grind, whereas outbound I was still feeling pretty fresh. Inbound, I was using tricks such as “make it to the next sign” to maintain pace, which was falling off anyhow. Three, the middle miles are on a dirt road; the side we were on coming back on was a bit more rocky and canted. Maybe there was also something about the tree line or hedging up to the road. Or maybe I was just hallucinating!
Perhaps it’s not unlike the second or third 800-meter interval versus the fifth and sixth on the track. Surely, the latter ones are harder, even at a consistent pace. Yet, I have not noticed the track tilting upwards. That would be scary!
If I run this race again, I’ll be sure to drive it and check a topo-map. At the very least I’ll be aware of the need to save up for those return miles. (By the way, the last downhill mile that mirrored the uphill start was my second fastest mile. If that stretch had looked uphill, I would have been in serious trouble!)
I have been claiming for some time that 80% of runners are no longer racing by age 60. I reasoned this by looking at results of various races, such as the BAA Distance Medley races that draw 10,000+ runners. I’ve also looked at large datasets, such as RunSignup’s annual RaceTrends report. Their 2024 report assessed 10.8 million registrations in the U.S., which they estimate represents 45-50% of total race registrations. This report indicates 7.4% of registrants were in their 60s and only 2.5% 70 and older. On the surface this might suggest an even greater than 80% drop-off, but that could be wrong for several reasons. One, this blends race distances from 5K to ultra and even includes triathlons, which probably tend to draw younger athletes. Two, the RunSignup dataset notes nearly 20% of participants are under 18. I suspect this includes a lot of high school events, also evident by the preponderance of 5K races representing 65% of registrations. Also, it’s possible, if not likely, that younger people run more races each year. Let’s assume the average 60+ runner runs three races a year (yes, some of us run much more than that!) and those younger run an average of five races a year, that would get us in the range of 16% of unique runners being 60+. This is a ballpark but it does not seem too far-fetched to estimate ~20% of these runners are 60+ (16/84% = 19%). The next step to consider is whether this infers an 80% drop-off. An issue is that the dropout rate accelerates with age. Meaning, it might be plausible that by age 65, 80% have dropped out from racing, but not by age 60.
Data from specific races avoids such assumptions. With that in mind, I looked at the results from the September 7th North Shore Runfest 10K in Salem MA, which served as the USATF New England 10K Championship. The Second Wind timers provided results from the 484 Grand Prix participants as well as the full field of 882 runners (which shows how valuable it is for a race to host a Grand Prix event!)
What I like about data from Grand Prix races is by and large the club runners are “serious” runners, meaning they regularly train and make racing a priority. These are the runners I am interested in understanding! Data from a broad range of runners include those who might run once a week and jump into a race because someone at work or a family member is doing it. Having a lot of these “occasional runners” embedded in results makes it really hard to draw valid conclusions. The other thing I liked about this race is it was a 10K. According to RunSignup, only 9% of races are 10K down to 5K+ (i.e., this includes 5M, 8K, and 4M races), whereas 53% of events are 5Ks or less, attracting 65% of total runners. I surmise a greater percentage of less serious and younger runners show for 5Ks than 10Ks.
As shown below, of the 484 runners at the Runfest, just 92 or 19.0% were age 60 or older. Since 81% of the runners were younger, maybe this supports the notion that 80% of former runners have dropped out. Yet, even more stark was that only 20 — 4.1% — were 70 or older. This is clear evidence of attrition!
Age
Male
Female
NSR 10K Total
% of Total
% of RunSignup Data Set
% of U.S. Population
70+
15
5
20
4.1
2.5
12.9
60 – <70
39
33
72
14.9
7.4
12.0
50 – <60
57
46
103
21.3
12.8
12.7
40 – <50
62
36
98
20.2
18.0
12.4
Under 40
111
80
191
39.5
59.3 *
50.0
Total
284 (59%)
200 (41%)
484
100.0
100.0
100.0
* Included 19.4 % under age 18
I noticed 59% of the Runfest field was male. Yet, the RunSignup data indicate 54% of 10.8 million registrants are female. Maybe for this 10K, some clubs were male dominated (e.g., the home-team Notch Run Club had 81 runners and 57 were men.) However, the Bobby Doyle 5M in August also showed 59% of the 470 USATF runners were male (with 18.5% of the total runners 60 and older.) So, while there are exceptions (e.g., Liberty Athletic Club and Sole Sisters, both all women) it seems USATF clubs send more men to Grand Prix races.
I also found it interesting to compare the RunSignup data to the U.S. population. The 70+ population is only about one-fifth as likely to be racing, whereas those in their 60s are about 60% as likely – it seems fewer in that cohort are choosing the couch compared to the 70s! Those in their 50s are nearly even with the general population while runners under age 50 are significantly more likely to be racing, due in part perhaps to youth running.
Digging into the North Shore data implied two other things. One, while the oldest cohort (70+) is somewhat less inclined (no doubt for various reasons) to enter road races, those younger than 70 appear significantly more involved in racing at a “serious level” (i.e., they run the Grand Prix!) than both the RunSignup participants and the general U.S. population all the way down to age 40. Two, there appears to be a groundswell of youth runners coming into the ranks. The unknown is whether they will continue to run in their 20s and beyond.
Maybe this analysis adds little (or nothing!) to the body of knowledge favoring running as an activity that helps keep us resilient – active and functioning at a reasonably high level into our later years. While it is encouraging to see the percentage of runners over 60 still engaging in competition, it does not mask the reality there is a big dropout rate and that this dramatically increases with age.
In 1997, Richard Koch wrote a book The 80/20 Principle. The gist of it is that 80% of the results in many endeavors come from 20% of the effort. Koch did not create this concept: the Pareto Principal, as it subsequently became known as, was borne out of research published by Vilfredo Pareto in 1896. Nevertheless, this concept picked up support in the 1900’s, especially in business and time management applications that compared inputs to outputs.
How might this play out in run training, especially as we age? Certainly, for an Olympic athlete to perform at 100%, their training effort is going to be close to 100% (in spite of the vernacular, we really can’t give more than 100%!) Yet, training at this level comes with risks of injury and other various tradeoffs. Even working with an experienced and reputable coach, an athlete has some upper limit of training capacity, above which they are likely to break down. This trickles down to all of us.
To apply this principle to running we have to first decide what is 100% and what is 80%. Let’s suppose a 61-year old male runner considers his potential for a 5K to be 20:00 minutes, or a 1:30 half marathon. This is an 80% age-graded result, which would establish him as a “national class” competitor. A significant achievement! For this consideration, let’s say this is his 100%. Then, is a 24:00 5K or a 1:48 half marathon, a 20% drop in pace this runner’s 80%? I don’t think so. This would leave him with a 66.6% age grading. While such a time might result in a high age-class place in a smaller, local race, I suspect this level runner might see something closer to a 21:00 minute 5K or a 1:34:40 half, which is a 76% age-grade result, as 80%. A strong but not top effort. And in light of family, work, and community obligations, maybe a reasonable goal. So, what would that mean for training?
If we assume a 76% age-grading is this runner’s 80% achievement (this may be confusing – there are two different pots of measurement here), it’s impractical to expect a 20% training effort, over an extended time, will drive a 76% age-grade result, this runner’s 80%. Let’s further assume that the training volume needed by this runner to achieve his 100% effort is 40 miles per week. Twenty percent of that, or eight miles a week, is simply not going to lead to an 80% achievement. Considering just this measure of volume, I suggest something in the range of 30 miles per week will be needed. Were these figures to hold, 75% of the inputs are needed to achieve an 80% result. A far cry from Koch’s 20%! These numbers are arbitrary, and maybe the inputs needed are 65%, or 70%. Still way outside the 80/20 principle.
Of course, training is so much more than mileage. We need to incorporate intervals, hills, tempos, and long runs along with plenty of stretching and strength training. It’s a package deal. At some point, we set goals we can reasonably attain, given various constraints in our lives. And while there might be a mathematical way of computing the training needed to achieve a particular level of achievement, for sure it is going to require a lot of trialing and erroring to find a workable balance.
This takes us back to the fundamental principle: Each senior runner is an “experiment of one.” One person’s 100% or 80% achievement is going to vary from someone else’s, as will the amount and mix of training stimuli needed to get there. It’s complicated. Thinking that training is just “getting out the door” is pretty simplistic. At some point, it comes around to the very first question: Why are we running?
I recently attended the two-day fall meeting of the New England Chapter of the American College of Sports Medicine in Springfield, Mass. The sessions included a range of topics with this year’s theme focusing on the connection between exercise and mental health. I attended one session entitled “The Dirty Side of Clean Eating.” The two presenters were registered dietitians who drew from what they observe in their client base. Among other things, they parsed the difference between eating disorders and disordered eating. They noted while 9% of the population will experience an eating disorder during their lifetime well over 50% show signs of disordered eating, which may include chronic dieting, food restriction, categorically avoiding certain foods, as well as constant scale and mirror watching. An eating disorder can be fatal as well as lead to the dreaded “female athletic triad,” a combination of osteoporosis, low energy, and amenorrhea with the men’s version resulting in the first two, whereas disordered eating affects quality of life and detracts from optimal health.
Diet and weight are touchy, related topics. They involve preferences, knowledge, beliefs, and biases, all of which are fed by various sources of information, some of which are contradictory. While runners intuitively know that carrying extra weight slows us down, becoming obsessed with our weight and body image can lead to the dark places noted above.
Runners of all ages aim to maintain a “healthy” weight while taking in sufficient nutritional quality and quantity to support vigorous training. This becomes one’s set point weight, which varies depending on body type, muscular definition, and genetic bone structure. These factors make assigning a target BMI (body mass index) problematic. BMI is the measure the National Institutes of Health uses to indicate 73% or the U.S. population is overweight or obese. Most runners fall well below this threshold.
For seniors, establishing a set point weight is complicated by the fact our bones and muscle are being slowly replaced by fat. This is not the stuff we can pinch. Rather, it becomes entwined in our muscles. There are two issues here: One, since muscle uses more energy than fat, our basal metabolic rate (BMR) decreases. Thus, if we eat the same amount of food as we did when we were 40 we will gain weight, even when keeping physical activity constant. Two, muscle and bone weigh more than fat. Thus, if we are the same weight as 20 years ago, we have more fat and less lean tissue. The result is by age 60, and likely before, the set point that depicts a healthy weight typically decreases due to this loss of muscle and bone. Ideally, we weight train to retard muscle loss, but it invariably happens regardless. Thus, it behooves us to periodically track our weight and watch what we eat. It is easier (and far better for our bodies) to maintain weight rather than cyclically gain and lose.
So, what is the cost of this so-called “extra weight” when we race? Studies have shown that each pound over one’s set point weight costs a runner, on average, two seconds per mile. For 10 extra pounds that translates to about two minutes in a 10K and over four minutes in a half marathon. For a serious recreational runner that is a significant time difference.
As with most things in life (and running!) finding proper balance is important. We should rightly pay attention to our weight and body definition while not obsessing over them. For sure, there are various ways aging impacts race times. That can be daunting, but it may also offer us a puzzle to be continually explored.
