The joy that nearly wasn't

The plan was to use the weeks following the marathon as a bike focus - a way to recover from the run and get my cycling legs, largely neglected this winter, going again.  The weather, however, isn't cooperating.  Monday we awoke to an inch plus of snow. Tuesday was rainy, cold and dreary.  Wednesday found temps hovering around 40, with a stiff NNE wind and the roads still wet from an all night rain and intermittent showers that just didn't want to give up. I knew that to take the road bike out would be nothing short of miserable.

Having one recovery run and a good swim in the books I was OKto call it good, but something just kept nagging me, calling me - ah, the dirt...  So I opted instead to take to the dirt roads on the mountain bike.  Initially discouraged because I had to bundle up like it was February, once on the bike I found a rhythm and settled happily into the ride.  My standard winter dirt road loop is about one hour in duration, and I figured I'd get that done and was toying with perhaps a bit more if I stayed warm.

After thirty minutes of heading north and west, into the wind, I turned east and found a bit of easy speed with the wind pushing me along.  The bikes down tube was collecting a good coating of mud, as were my shoes, and I could feel the streak of mud forming on my back as well.  I was cold, wet and muddy, and I was happy.

A favorite spot on this loop is when I cross Amrstrong, or is it Armstrong?  Depends on which side of the road sign you look at.  This just makes me smile every time I ride or run past...

A Mr. Strong?

or Lance's street maybe?

Thought a quick shot of Maxfield Lake might capture a little bit of how dreary the day was, but this picture really does not do justice to the cold wind coming off the lake, the ominous looking sky and the periodic spit from the clouds.

Tempo Mile 2

Those that paid attention to my Saturday morning tempo runs over the winter may have noted how much slower my second mile always was in comparison to the others.  This might help explain, the mile is about 80 percent up a series of rollers (the last and biggest pitch is out of sight), and finishes with just a subtle give-back.  Tough yes, but always one of my favorite challenges.

Once rolling, and thinking I'd be ok past the hour mark, I got it in my head the route I thought I'd try.  Little did I know it would take a solid second hour to complete and finish with a long section into the wind.  I got a bit bonky, and pretty darn cold, and when I did finally get home my wife greeted me at the door with "I was just about to send out the search party!"  I said, "as long as you're here, this ride is worth capturing on film..." :-)

The photos don't truly capture how wet and muddy I was, but I was also in a place of pure ecstasy.  Having been off the trails for most of the winter, and doing most of my marathon training on pavement, I completely immersed myself in this experience.  Starting out with such low expectation, I finished on such a high.  Being on the dirt, whether running or riding, brings a simple joy that makes all else fade away. 

Those that know, know.  Those that don't, well, it just can't be explained...



Press on friends.

Marathon reflections...Good, Bad, Ugly, Surprising, and Celebratory

Good - Hit my target of "Used, but not used up".  Knowing this is just the first step toward my ultra marathon in September, needed to be a bit reserved.  So often after a marathon it is as much as three weeks before I feel "normal" again.  It is now 24 hours after the race and feel like I'm ready to head back outside (especially after watching the Boston marathon, what an amazing day for American marathoning!).

Bad - Three weeks or so back I started having some tightness in my left hip.  Nothing terrible, but like a rubber band that just keeps getting wound tighter and tighter as I run.  The gun went off and immediately I felt that tightness.  Overcame the frustration factor quickly, but also resigned myself to walking every 7 to 10 minutes to let that "rubber band" unwind.  Perhaps it was a blessing in that it kept me from running too hard?

Ugly - At about the 7 mile mark I felt a warm sensation on my chin.  My right hand white cotton glove turned red when I wiped it, and only then realized I had a nose bleed.  Then next mile was interesting as I was using my glove to keep things in check and watched the ground for a discarded napkin and even checked out the fans for a "mom looking somebody" who might have a Kleenex handy :-)  Before I actually got up the courage to stop and ask for such help we reached the 8 mile mark and the porta-johns that were there.  A quick stop to grab some toilet paper, jam it up my nose and I was off again.  By the 10 mile mark, I believe, I "unplugged" and confirmed the bleeding had stopped.  My shirt was sprinkled red, but I made sure to wipe my face and teeth with my left glove - don't need any photographs with me looking like I ran into a tree ;-)

Surprising - Only this morning did I check out my splits and am was pleasantly surprised.  Never have I had a good last 10k in a marathon, usually self destructing and finishing poorly.  Not so this time, here are my pace splits by overall and the specific section:
3 Mile:  8:25 / 8:25
10k:  8:22 / 8:19
14 Mile: 8:19 / 8:17
21 Mile: 8:17 / 8:11
Finish: 8:15 / 8:08
A progression that just makes my day...

Celebratory - This was my wife's first half marathon.  Pam walked the race and had to make the 7 mile mark within a 17:00 min/pace by race rule and her secret goal was to not be last.  She made both goals, posted a great time (16:10 pace I believe), enjoyed herself, and even got a bit competitive in the end.  Instead of slowing to give me a chance to catch her, she pressed on to make up every spot she could.  I finished two minutes behind her, just missing one of my secret goals of being able to cross the finish line together.  Oh well, she was smiling and excited by her effort and I couldn't be more proud.

Speaking of finishing together, our good friends, Ralph and Cathie McKay did just that, running together and crossing the finish line, at the 50 yard line of the Glass Bowl in fact, holding hands.

A few photos, hopefully more will be available in the next few days:

Having fun with my friends running Boston over Glass City (why would you, though?)- if you haven't already, check out my previous blog post espousing the benefits of Toledo over Boston!

Pam and Cathie as we prepare to leave the hotel. 

Pam sure looks nervous before the race, doesn't she? :-PPP

Hard to get a shot of Ralph without coffee :-)  

And what is up with frogs around Toledo?

Trying to finish strong, but the last half mile was dead into a vicious wind (I was as worried about losing my hat as anything!)

 

Pam finishing strong (and jamming to "Get your back off the wall" by Family Force 5 - she liked the playlist that I built and I thought it was cool we were both out there at the same time, listening to the same music the whole time :-)

Ralph and Cathie, soaking it in - another great 1/2 marathon effort for two of my fellow Freedom Striders:

Dalila, Pam and myself enjoying the finish.  Dalila's husband Gene behind the camera.

A finish photo that isn't embarrassing :-)

We were worried about the high winds on race day.  Little did we know that was the best we could have hoped for, given what we woke up the day after the race!

From Glass City to Boston, with a little tongue-in-cheek love

To all my friends running the Boston Marathon on Monday,

Sorry that you have to race in Bean Town, on a Monday no less, when you could be running in the Glass City on a Sunday.  Everybody knows marathons are run on Sunday and that beans and marathons just don't mix.

Sorry that you had to run a qualifying time and then hope you were also fast enough on the keyboard in order to spend a fair chunk of change to get an invitation to run on a Monday in April, when you could have simply paid $50 for the privilege of seeing the sights of Toledo.

Sorry that you have to navigate your way through hoards of people, traffic jams, and who knows what kind of weather (is it ever sunny on the east coast?) when the tropical breezes from south of the (Michigan) border are sure to carry us along as we run past the home of the world famous Mud Hens.

Sorry that the throngs of runners and fans alike will probably be so noisy and generate so much energy you won't be able to hear that 3 hour music montage you spent so much time formulating.  The Glass City marathon is run on bike paths through parks where we will be sure to appreciate the play list.

And finally, sorry that you are stuck running a race with a section called "Heartbreak Hill", when you could be running "one of the fastest courses in the Midwest!"

I do feel bad for you.  Perhaps next year I'll join you in your misery.

Until then, Run well, and Press On friends.

Signed,
A fellow marathoner, heading South to run a Sunday marathon in April

The End of the (marathon) road...

...and the beginning of the (Ultra) trail.  Playing it smart - at racing and living.

Four months of training - long runs, tempo runs, hill repeats, interval sessions. 
Four months of winter - brutal cold, slicing wind, icy footing, and dark - always seems to be dark.

Three weeks of tapering - trying to heal up, sharpen up, and psyche up for the one big day.

Marathon Day!

Been there before.  All those weeks of training and it culmimates on a single race on a single early morning.

But not this time.  Instead, marathon day is going to be Day 1 of my Ultra training.

As a result, the definition of a successful race must change.  Running smart will require swallowing my pride.  Getting caught up in the excitment of race day must be about sharing in the experiences of those around me, running my "smart" pace, rather than commiting myself to catching just one more person up ahead, and then another, and then another...

The marathon training certainly prepared me for the even tougher training ahead. The taper has allowed me to rest and recover properly.  This "smart approach" feels like one step back, but will allow me to launch many steps ahead in the coming weeks.  This approach has not been a very easy one to embrace the last few weeks.  In my head I know it's right, in my heart too.  It's just not always easy to do what's right!

How often are we faced with situations like this in our every day, where it would be best if we "played it smart".  Where we need to swallow our pride, take one for team, elevate another over ourselves, or to say "I'm sorry", or "will you forgive me"? 

How well are we doing?  I know I have room to improve.  Strange as it may seem to correlate the two, I believe "running smart" on race day will propel me forward toward my Ultra goal, but will also teach me a great "life lesson".

That those that can, would...

One of the key goals of my Ultra "mission":  that those that can, would. 

Over dinner last Friday evening I shared with my friend and her husband, that part of my Ultra plan will involve a fund raising goal (keep reading, this isn't a solicitation post :-) and that I had settled on RA research as my cause.  My friend is a warm, energetic little lady with the heart of a lion.  Her body, unfortunately, is typically unable to match the fervor with with she desires to live life.

This motivates me to want to be part of the solution where RA is concerned.  Her response, through tears, what that she was blown away, honored, speechless.  I reminded her that she is my hero, and that as she fights the fight she does, it motivates me to use what I've been given, desiring to live each day well.  

It also stirs me to be an inspirational force, that those that can, those that have no excuse, would.  Would walk, or run, or play ball, or, well, you get the idea - that choices would be made based on a true quality of life, not the typical relentless pursuit of all that fades.  My hope and prayer is that my journey will be used to help people realize that today is the day, and there are no promises of tomorrow.  Each day, we are all given the same 24-hours.  How foolishly, too often, we choose to spend them.

So yes, the day will come when I will ask you to consider partnering with me on this fund raising goal.  For now, however, I hope you simply join me in trying to live life well and to share that joy with those in your circle.