Double the Marathon, Double the Fun
What better way to celebrate Grandma’s 50th than by running 50 miles?
For years, I had known about the unofficial Grandma’s Double Marathon. A small but dedicated group meets at the finish line in the very early hours of race morning, runs the quiet streets of Duluth and up old Highway 61 to the official start in Two Harbors, then turns around and runs the marathon back to where they began. Some people hear that and think it sounds insane. I heard it and thought it sounded intriguing, especially in an anniversary year.
Ever since registering last fall, the Double had been my goal. Marathon weekend promised to be the biggest yet, and I wanted to soak up all of it.
As the weekend approached, the excitement around Duluth and especially within the running community was palpable. At Hoops Run Club, every conversation revolved around long runs, speedwork, and race plans. Most of our crew was running one of the weekend distances, from the 5K to the full marathon, and for many it was their first. At home, the energy was the same. Dot was hoping for a 5K PR at her fourth William A. Irvin. Kevin was chasing a marathon PB despite navigating a knee injury that had forced him to ease up on training. And I was looking forward to 50 plus miles along the shore of Lake Superior.
We began the weekend the way we always do, arriving at the expo right when the doors opened on Thursday. We picked up bibs, toured the booths, Dot did CPR for Girl Scout cookies, and we found Stephen, a pacer turned friend from past Grandma’s weekends. Then we headed to Hoops for a shakeout run along the Lakewalk with about seventy other runners. Afterward, Dot and I crossed the street to watch Des and Kara record their Nobody Asked Us podcast live. As a longtime listener, it was such a treat and it did not disappoint.
Friday morning, Dot and I were back at the expo early before lining up for the 5K with 2500 other runners. She was locked in from the start. No complaining, no whining, just quiet focus as she gradually increased her pace each mile. On the descent back toward Railroad Street, she kicked hard enough that I had to work to keep up. She crossed the line in 23:41, averaging 7:41 per mile, finishing fifth in her age group with a huge PR. We grabbed bananas and headed to the Michelina’s Spaghetti Dinner, joined by fellow Grambassador Jamie, who had also run the 5K and was preparing for the marathon the next morning.
After some time at Bayfront and a gathering with the other Grambassadors-another highlight of the weekend. Being able to meet the people who inspired me all year long in person, is truly special. I dropped Dot off with a friend so she could volunteer at the Lester River aid station in the morning. I tried to get to bed early, knowing my 12:30 a.m. alarm would arrive quickly.
Despite very little sleep, I was wide awake when it went off. By a little after 2:00 a.m., I was at Playfront Park. I had confirmed that there were at least two groups starting the Double, one at 2:00 and one at 2:30. I chose the later start and found myself standing under the finish line arch with about eight other runners. Some were veterans like Lance and Scott. Some were first timers, including one runner tackling his first marathon by doubling it. I ran into Wendy, another ultrarunner I had met at a previous race and followed online, and was grateful for familiar company.
We took a quick photo and headed out into the dark.
Running through Duluth in the middle of the night felt peaceful and almost surreal. The streets were mostly empty aside from race crews setting up. Conversation flowed easily as we made our way toward the shore. Around mile eight or nine, an incredible human and ultra runner, Steve, had set up an aid station for us, complete with snacks, drinks, and a sign marking the fifteenth running of the Grandma’s Double. Eric, who usually leads the charge, was not doubling this year because he had the Western States 100 the following weekend (the oldest and most prestigious 100 miler in the country), but he still ran the marathon and went on to finish his hundred miler as well.
As we continued north, the sky slowly shifted from darkness to soft reds and pinks over Lake Superior. It was one of those mornings you wish you could bottle up.
We eventually caught the earlier start groups, and a couple more friends: Andy and Nate, and ran together, chatting about past races, future plans, and life in general. I kept reminding myself to rein it in. I was not even halfway done.
When we reached the official start in Two Harbors, Kevin was somehow already there waiting. We crossed under the arch to cheers, snapped a group photo (there ended up being about 30 Doublers, the most ever), and dispersed to our corrals. I changed my shirt and socks, dropped my vest, wished Kevin luck as he went to join the other speedsters in Corral A, and eventually made my way to Corral B. True to form, I was in the bathroom when the corral started moving.
I had no idea what the second marathon would feel like. My loose goal was around four hours. I planned to catch up to Stephen, who was leading the four hour pace group, and see what happened.
Instead of shuffling or surviving, I felt surprisingly strong. I gradually worked my way through the field, catching up to friends from Hoops and fellow Doublers who had started ahead of me. I found Stephen and Rosie, who was chasing her sub four goal, and ran with them for a bit before easing ahead. I caught Chris, who I had logged many Superior Hiking Trail training miles with, as he helped shepherd a first time marathoner. I downloaded the Grandma’s app mid race to check on Kevin and a few athletes I coach. When I saw that Kevin was absolutely crushing his PB attempt, it gave me a second wind.
For the first time in years, I was running Grandma’s without a rigid time goal. In past races I had been chasing a Boston qualifier. This time my goals were simple. Have fun. Drink a beer. Eat bacon. See Dot at the Lester River aid station. I was able to drink that beer (I don’t even like them, I just wanted the experience). I had some bacon which was DELICIOUS (I was hungry after being up for over ten hours and only surviving on gels). I missed Dot at the station, but she was able to help so many of our friends and give Kevin a hug.
As I crested Lemon Drop Hill, I still felt strong. I picked up the pace and continued passing runners. I knew the Hoops crew would be near Blacklist and I was excited to see them. Just after Fitgers, Just after Fitgers, Rae, another Grambassador who had cheered us on at three in the morning as we headed north, handed me a jello shot. Soon I was going by Blacklist, hearing the run group cheer gave me another boost. I sprinted past to shouts from friends and from Dusty Olson, the first Doubler to finish. With a couple of miles left, I realized I could break 3:45 if I kept pushing.
I ran the final three miles under eight minute pace and crossed the line in 3:42:54. After already running a marathon that morning.
Kevin and I found each other, grabbed my drop bag, and made our way to the VIP tent. We had to head home to let the dogs out, but after a quick shower and short nap we returned to town to celebrate. Kevin had run over a 20 minute marathon PR. I had somehow set PRs in both the 50K and the 50 mile.
Grandma’s weekend never feels like it is just about the race. It is the old friends you see once a year and the new friends who feel like old friends by Sunday. It is the conversations in the bathroom line, the shared miles along the shore, and the tired legs standing around Bayfront with medals around your neck. It is cheering for each other’s goals and then watching those goals become reality.
This year all of ours did.
Grandma’s has changed my life in so many ways over the past nine years. Being able to represent it as a Grambassador during its fiftieth year was an honor. But more than the course or the finish line, what keeps me coming back is the people, the community, and the belief that when we show up for one another, we leave believing a little more in what is possible.
I am so grateful to be part of this community, to share these miles, and to call this race home.
If you have any questions about Grandma’s Marathon, the Twinports running scene, ultrarunning, or running questions in general, you can find me at superiorsingletrack.
Shannon Hogan
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Favorite Grandma’s Marathon Memory: • When I think of Grandma’s Marathon, my fondest memories aren’t really about the race itself—they’re about the people and the feeling of community that surrounds it. Grandma’s has given me so much more than miles on the course; it’s given me friendships and traditions I cherish year after year. I think about my Hoops Running Club teammates who bring endless laughs and encouragement, the familiar “Grandma’s regulars” I catch up with once a year like it’s a family reunion, and the welcoming Grandma’s staff and Grambassadors who make every runner feel like they belong. And maybe best of all, my kiddo, Dot has joined in on the tradition too, lacing up for the 5K each year and joining in all the weekend festivities—it’s become our shared celebration of running, joy, and this amazing community.
Quote that guides, inspires, or embodies your training, racing, or life: “Nothing lasts forever.” Both the joy and the struggle are temporary. The good moments are gifts—pause, savor them, and let yourself be fully present. And when challenges come, in training, in racing, or in life, remember that they, too, will pass.
Song that must be on your running playlist: My musical inspirations are always changing, but right now it’s “Passenger” by Noah Kahan.
2026 running goal: Soak in the 50th Anniversary and run my first Great Grandma’s double (from the finish to the start and back)! PR the 100 mile distance.
Advice to other runners: Dare to do something that feels impossible. Set goals that seem out of reach, where the risk of falling short is real. It’s in those moments—when the outcome isn’t guaranteed—that true growth happens. These challenges not only reveal your limits, they expand them, reshaping you again and again into a more resilient, peaceful, and grateful person.