‘Drubbling’ Inventor Riley McLincha Dies in Kayak Accident

Riley McLincha, known as “The Drubbler,” died on June 18 in a kayaking accident, according to a post by his family on Facebook. “On Tuesday while waiting for a lock to allow passage, Riley was pulled under a barge by the current,” the post reads. “There was simply no way for him to escape.”

The 73-year-old retired science teacher from Clio, Michigan, invented the sport of “drubbling” in April 1994 with a four-mile run along a local trail while simultaneously dribbling three basketballs. In celebrating the 30^th anniversary of the sport, McLincha noted that only two other people in the world have ever taken up drubbling, to which he explained that “the reason it doesn't catch on is because it is too difficult or too stupid.”

McLincha began joggling in the mid-1980s and joggled his first race, the Crim 10 Miler, in 1987 joggling three eggs (he kept three spare eggs in his pocket and ended up using them all). He is a legend at the Crim Festival of Races, having run every single edition of the race for the last 46 years, 29 of them while drubbling. McLincha had planned to drubble this year’s race in August for the 30^th and final time, and was going to joggle the event in future years in honour of joggling inventor Bill Giduz, who died in May.

Drubbling was only one many McLincha’s many talents. He also invented the sport of “runyaking,” which involves kayaking a section of waterway, running back to the launch site to retrieve the transport vehicle, driving back to the kayak, and continuing the process from that point the next day. He wrote a book about his runyaking adventures, “The Runyaker’s Journey,” and posted regularly on Substack.

In 1978, McLincha set the Guinness World Record for reciting the most digits of pi, to 7,500 decimal places. He was also a craft beer aficionado and musician.

We never met in person, but I considered McLincha a great friend, as we’ve been in touch regularly for the past 19 years, when I first started joggling. He had just recently discovered this blog and left a bunch of insightful comments on some of the old posts. We were just messaging each other three weeks ago, so it feels unreal that he’s gone. Like Bill Giduz, Riley McLincha’s legacy of living life to the absolute fullest will live on in the hearts of all those he inspired.

Drubbling the Crim (Photo: Crim Fitness Foundation)

On The Today Show, July 2002 (Photo: The Drubbler on Facebook)

Riley McLincha drubbling the 2004 Boston Marathon (Photo: The Drubbler on Facebook)

Riley McLincha on a runyaking adventure (Photo: Riley McLincha on Facebook)

(Photo: Bruce Edwards, Flint Journal)

Michal Kapral Joggling the Ottawa Marathon in 3:08:26

I crossed the finish line with a big goofy grin. I had forgotten just how fun and how tough it was to run a marathon while juggling. In my first joggling marathon in eight years, I finished the Ottawa Marathon in 3 hours 8 minutes and 26 seconds. That's an age-group joggling marathon world record for the 50-59 category (if anyone cares except me). My age-graded equivalent time is 2:45:56, which is 4 minutes under my world record of 2:50:12 that I set as a young lad 17 years ago, so all-in-all a solid effort.

The spectators went completely wild as I joggled past, so I could not stop smiling and laughing. After a clean start, I settled into a good pace near the 3:05 pacer and did a bit of a tortoise and the hare routine with that group as I had to come to a complete stop at the fuel stations to chug a few cups of sports drink before taking off again to catch up and pass them. It was a pretty hot day so I stopped for water and fuel much more than I usually would for a joggling marathon.

I dropped a ball for no apparent reason at around 8k and it was actually a bit of a relief not to worry about a drop-free race anymore after that point. I dutifully stepped back to behind the drop point and continued on, following the official joggling rules, to make sure I was juggling every step forward of the 42.2km.  

The race had some welcome misting stations, but when I ran through the first one, my glasses got completely covered in water droplets and I had to stop to wipe them off, costing a good 20-30 seconds.

Eventually the 3:05 group pulled ahead and I let them go knowing the pace was a bit too hot for my 52-year-old self. It's hard to adjust your running pace as you get older because you just assume you can still run as fast as you used to. I knew that my 2:50 world record time age-graded to about a 3:13, so my goal was to stay under that and hopefully keep the 3:10 pace bunny behind me.

I hit the half feeling good in a little over 1:33 and had thoughts of a negative split, but some sizable hills in the last 10k of the race put a damper on that idea. I had one more random drop somewhere around 32k and then just focused on staying smooth and relaxed. 

I couldn't look at my watch so had no idea what any of my splits were except for the half because there was a clock. I just knew that the 3:05 bunny was ahead and the 3:10 was behind. The kilometre marker flags weren't easy to spot so I often didn't know how far along I was, either. I remember seeing the 35km flag when I thought I was only at 33k, a pleasant surprise!

At some points the course doubled back on itself so you can see other runners going the other direction. One of these times, Dianne and I crossed paths and I was excited to see that she was ahead of the 3:50 pace bunny.

I heard lots of funny comments from the crowd, but as usual I forget most of the good ones. When I passed by one of the doubling back points, I heard a guy shout, "Oh my god, he's still juggling!" I told some of the kids who had outstretched arms for a high-five "Sorry, no hands." Lots of people yelled, "Go, Olympus Burger!" because I secured a hilarious sponsorship with my local burger joint in Port Hope, Ontario, and had their logo printed on my singlet.

At certain points, I got pretty emotional out there, laughing and tearing up at the same time. It takes a lot of hard work to train for this kind of thing, so to finally be celebrating the frivolity of running a marathon while juggling got me all choked up. There was a huge roar near the finish line. I soaked it all in as I finished my ninth joggling marathon only a minute off my first joggling marathon time in 2005. It's good to be back.

Dianne, meanwhile, kept ahead of that 3:50 pace bunny and finished in an amazing 3:49:21.

Dianne and Michal Kapral, celebrating the 2024 Ottawa Marathon
finish with a Kichesippi beer.

Bill Giduz, Inventor of Joggling, Dies at 72

Bill Giduz, credited for inventing the sport of joggling, died at age 72 on May 11 of complications from Parkinson's disease. Giduz achieved legendary status within the tight-knit joggling community, with jogglers from around the world expressing their condolences on the Jogglers United Facebook group. 

Bill Giduz joggling on campus at Davidson College, North Carolina
(Photo courtesy of the Giduz family, via Joe Salter)

The family's obituary includes some amazing details from Giduz's life, which he clearly lived to the fullest. The genius of combining juggling with running and naming it "joggling" is but one tiny blip in his long list of achievements, adventures and community-building work. Hilariously, according to the obituary, Giduz used to literally juggle his kids: "His love of juggling carried over to his family. His children remember being his 'juggling props,' Luke, his son, said. 'He used to juggle us as babies along with two balls,' added his daughter, Jenny."

Bill Giduz (Photo: Giduz family via News of Davidson) 

Giduz invented joggling by accident in 1975, according to a 2015 Huffington Post story on the history of the sport by writer Kevin Bell, when he brought his juggling balls to the North Carolina State University track to work on some juggling tricks after a running workout. 

"That day, he started jogging as he juggled and discovered something amazing: the pace of a three-ball juggling pattern easily matches with a wide range of running cadences," Bell wrote. "In other words, every throw coincides with the natural motion of the arms. Bill realized that the motions complemented one another beautifully, and he called it 'joggling' almost immediately."

Four years later, Giduz, a Columbia journalism grad, became the editor of the International Jugglers' Association (IJA) newsletter and began writing a column about joggling called Joggler's Jottings. I discovered some of these columns online when I first began joggling in 2005 and was amazed learn the history of the sport, and that the guy who came up with the idea was still around. It's like if you were a basketball fan and James Naismith were writing about the NBA. 

In one of the Joggler's Jottings columns, Giduz included some quotes from the late New York City Marathon race director, Fred Lebow, a joggling fan and a joggler himself:

"Lebow first heard of joggling from Billy Gillen, a Brooklyn resident now well known for his five-ball joggles around Central Park," Giduz wrote. "However, Lebow only took it seriously after watching Albert Lucas joggle the Los Angeles Marathon last spring."

"Lebow immediately recognized a combination of beauty and athletic benefit. 'The normal person can't believe someone can juggle and run that fast at the same time,' he said. 'I figured if Lucas could do a marathon juggling, I should be able to do it standing still.'"

"So Lebow set out to learn, and found it surprisingly easy to master the cascade. He began using one-pound Exerballs to build upper body strength. And now that he can juggle standing still, Lebow wants to begin joggling."

"Bigger than his personal discovery of joggling, however, is his decision to allow Lucas and Gillen to joggle in the upcoming New York Marathon. 'I see joggling as only positive,' Lebow said. 'Normally I might not allow it in a race because some people might think it interferes with runners. However, these two people are experienced. We'll play it by ear and see how it develops. We don't have a joggling division yet, but you never know what can happen.'"

A quote from this column appeared in the New York Times story by Lindsay Crouse in 2015 about the New York City Marathon banning me from joggling the race on a security technicality. 

U.K.-based data scientist and joggler Scott Jenkins recently brought back the Joggler's Jottings column to complement his database of joggling results that he's compiled with fellow U.K. joggler Chris Edwin. Jenkins was hoping to get in touch with Giduz to let him know that the Jottings column had been re-joggled and asked me if I had any contact info for him. I found Giduz's email from the News of Davidson site where he worked, but unfortunately he was likely too sick by the time Jenkins tried to reach him. I was really hoping to one day meet Giduz, or at least exchange an email or two, but was very touched that his son Luke took the time to reach out to me on Instagram.

Although I never met him, by all accounts, including this wonderful obituary for the IJA by juggling historian David Cain, Giduz was a kind, generous and funny person. I know for sure that he has not only inspired hundreds of people to take up joggling, but has also brought joy to millions of spectators of the sport, through smiles, laughs, ooohs and aaahs from all the people who've watched others joggling since that day Giduz decided to take his juggling balls to track practice almost 50 years ago. Thank you, Bill.

Bill Giduz winning the 100m joggling event at an IJA festival in Atlanta.
(Photo courtesy of Bill Giduz, via Kevin Bell)

Jean-Marc Doiron Misses Joggling Marathon World Record, But Joggles Blistering 2:52:39

Fellow Canadian Jean-Marc Doiron of Moncton, New Brunswick, ran the fastest debut 3-ball joggling marathon on May 12, finishing the Fredericton Marathon in 2 hours, 52 minutes and 39 seconds. It was also the third-fastest all-time behind my 2:50:12 world record at the 2007 Toronto Waterfront Marathon and Zach Warren's 2:52:15 at the 2006 Philadelphia Marathon.

"Disappointed," Doiron told CTV News after the race. "I was just so sure that I would get it, and to come so close, that's the first emotion."

Doiron joggled the race with a chest-mount GoPro to document the run for a Guinness World Record. He took off at a blistering pace, hitting 5K in 19:05, 10K in 38:24 and the half-marathon in 1:21:40, but then he says he hit the wall at about 32K and it was a fight to finish. Doiron says he dropped a ball about 10-15 times, and the fatigue from turning back and picking them up reminded him of running cross-country on a course with lots of turns. 

So is my world record safe? Probably not for long. Doiron says on Instagram that he plans to have another go at it this fall.

Trail and Snowshoe Joggling

I did my first trail race while juggling back in November at the Fat Ass Trail Race 10K in Batawa, Ontario. It was surprisingly fun, trying to shift the juggling pattern to match the changing terrain as I jumped over logs, hopped around rocks and roots, and navigated up and down steep slopes. I finished in 56 mins, 46 seconds, with 6 drops and miraculously no falls. 

Dianne and I got some Dion Run 121 racing snowshoes for Christmas and I put them to good use in January, in what I think was the first-ever joggling snowshoe race at the Snowy Soles Snowshoe Race. (Photos by Mat Coker)