It seems that nothing related to our Freedom Striders run club has come easy these days. The (loosely stated) mission of the group could be "freedom thru activity" and there is plenty of evidence we are seeing fruit. Perhaps that is why at times I feel under attack from forces that would oppose such progress.
The Crim is the focal point of the Freedom Striders each summer, and this last Friday & Saturday was just as rewarding as the previous three years. Despite all of the challenges, the Friday night pasta party was a huge success as I witnessed friendships forming and strengthening, hearty laughs and heartfelt sharing and listening - and a wee bit of smack talking about Saturday's race as well!
Saturday morning was a picture perfect morning and as usual the city of Flint shone bright for the 20,000 runners and walkers that participated in the series of races. Eating some post-race pizza while folks shared their joy in the sense of accomplishment and the stories from their race was inspiring (and more than made up for all of the trouble I'd faced).
And yes, I also did run and was also very pleased with my effort and pleasantly surprised with the result - running faster than I expected with a relatively easy effort (it was just a taper run for me, after all).
So with Crim 2011 in the rear view mirror I have only one more event to give any thought to - Run Woodstock 2011 and my 100 mile ultra-marathon attempt. 11 days and counting...
Shoes - check.
Clothes - check.
Fuel/Food - check.
Pacers - this needs to be my #1 priority this week!
Camping and other such details for family and friends that'll be around - yeah, need to work that out, too.
Oh, and I need to buy some Ivy Block! Last weekend I ran a loop of the Woodstock course (the race is 6 laps of a 16.6 mile course) to scope it out. My first attempt the week before that was a bit of a crash-n-burn as I led my friends Tim and Jocelyn miles off course...but, I digress...
So last weekend I met up with two others that are running Woodstock and we took to the trails. One section of the trail is obviously very rarely used and while only about 4/10ths of a mile, was a torturous few minutes - thick low branches, lots of thorns and thicket, calf deep water and mud...
What I came to learn, along about Tuesday afternoon, was that area also had some poison ivy. For the last week I've been battling that. It's akin to Chinese water torture! Here's hoping that section will be cleaned up a bit by race day. In case it's not, you bet I'll be laying the Ivy Block on thick!
My Running For RA inspiration, Lorrie, found out a few days back that she needs another surgery. This was tough news for her. She is going to have the surgery, but you bet it won't be until after the race! Nothing will keep her from being out there :-) I certainly covet prayers from my brothers and sisters in the faith as the race approaches. But more so, I ask you turn your attention to Lorrie. Pray for peace for her. Pray for her doctors and the entire medical team. Most of all - pray that she be healed!
You can read Lorrie's story on our Facebook page at www.facebook.com/runningforra.
Want to be part of our mission to raise funds for RA Research? Find us at www.crowdrise.com/runningforra.
Ok, guess I should get to work lining up some pacers...
Press on,
Chuck
Monday, August 29, 2011
Thursday, August 25, 2011
The Taper Day 3 - An unexpected twist
So it's day 3 of an 18 day taper leading into what will arguably be the most difficult day, physically, of my life. In the last 21 weeks I have logged 978 miles on the bike and 932 miles running. This works out to 44.4 miles per week of running on average (and a bit more on the bike - just a little cross training). The running miles are weighted toward the end and I've logged a number of weeks in the 70 miles range recently, and that was previously uncharted territory for me.
I'm tired. Most runners dread the taper. I'm anxious for it. Ready to heal the dents and dings of the training.
Most runners get grumpy, twitchy, irritable as they taper (like a race horse being held in the gate). Personally, I'm looking forward to finding a bit more balance again (and hopefully some fresh legs).
In the last several weeks my daughter has gotten married, #3 grandson has started taking steps, mom visited from Florida, my brother realized a dream by moving to the lake, and one of my sisters led another successful medical mission trip to Nicaragua. And that's just the highlights, just from the immediate family! Then there is the job, the run club and the bike night I host, the extended family and friends. So much to keep up on, so much to marvel at and appreciate, so many stories (and challenges - it's never all good news, is it?)
Then there's Lorrie. She is my inspiration for dedicating the ultra attempt to raising funds and awareness for RA Research (see us on FB and Crowdrise). My goals were lofty and my dreams were out of this world when we started this journey. Reality is that I've struggled to do the work necessary to really get the word out and raise the funds.
That doesn't detract from the worthiness of the cause. And it certainly is not to late to get involved (i.e. Please Give! :-)
As I started writing that last paragraph (its about 1:30 a.m. - couldn't sleep), I find the check to the friend that cleans our home every other week (since Pam's shoulder surgery). She left the check on my desk with a note that says "Please donate to the RA cause." Wow. That's huge to me, that's the kind of stuff that makes the world make sense to me.
Funny, I think that was a God moment. I couldn't sleep because I was wrestling with everything that I perceived to be out balance. Balls I had let drop, opportunities passing me by. Suddenly, looking at that note, I find myself smiling. I feel at peace. Maybe we are on the right path after all.
Until tomorrow then - or later today I guess, but whatever...
Press on friends.
I'm tired. Most runners dread the taper. I'm anxious for it. Ready to heal the dents and dings of the training.
Most runners get grumpy, twitchy, irritable as they taper (like a race horse being held in the gate). Personally, I'm looking forward to finding a bit more balance again (and hopefully some fresh legs).
In the last several weeks my daughter has gotten married, #3 grandson has started taking steps, mom visited from Florida, my brother realized a dream by moving to the lake, and one of my sisters led another successful medical mission trip to Nicaragua. And that's just the highlights, just from the immediate family! Then there is the job, the run club and the bike night I host, the extended family and friends. So much to keep up on, so much to marvel at and appreciate, so many stories (and challenges - it's never all good news, is it?)
Then there's Lorrie. She is my inspiration for dedicating the ultra attempt to raising funds and awareness for RA Research (see us on FB and Crowdrise). My goals were lofty and my dreams were out of this world when we started this journey. Reality is that I've struggled to do the work necessary to really get the word out and raise the funds.
That doesn't detract from the worthiness of the cause. And it certainly is not to late to get involved (i.e. Please Give! :-)
As I started writing that last paragraph (its about 1:30 a.m. - couldn't sleep), I find the check to the friend that cleans our home every other week (since Pam's shoulder surgery). She left the check on my desk with a note that says "Please donate to the RA cause." Wow. That's huge to me, that's the kind of stuff that makes the world make sense to me.
Funny, I think that was a God moment. I couldn't sleep because I was wrestling with everything that I perceived to be out balance. Balls I had let drop, opportunities passing me by. Suddenly, looking at that note, I find myself smiling. I feel at peace. Maybe we are on the right path after all.
Until tomorrow then - or later today I guess, but whatever...
Press on friends.
Wednesday, August 3, 2011
Confidence restored
Fact: I made it to the finish line of Dances with Dirt - Devils Lake.
Fact: I knew, intellectually, that this was a much harder course than my upcoming 100 miler.
Fact: I have been running long enough to identify my mistakes, learn, and move on.
Fact: I have been running long enough to know that sometimes it's just not your day.
Fact: Even as miserable as I was after DWD, my recovery came pretty quickly and ran well at a race the following weekend.
But with all that said, a seed of doubt had been planted.
Was the 100 miler too big a mountain? Was I really ready for this?
And what would people say that donated to the cause of raising funds for RA Research?
Funny, not funny ha-ha, but funny sad, how quickly things can change. One moment we "know" in our heart of hearts that the path we are traveling is down right ordained, and then, just like that, a DWD moment happens and we begin to question.
The Lord has always been faithful and when I cry out He has always been there. In years past, He would take me to the answer, but oftentimes that meant going through something first in order to find it.
The Lord I know, the kindly Father that has adopted me as His own (not the Lord of the Law that I grew up with), knew that this time I needed restoration without a test. And that came at the Grand Island Marathon (+) over the weekend.
A very laid back event on a very beautiful island in Lake Superior, just off the coast line of Munising in Michigan's UP, the race is considered a trail marathon, but a dirt road route is more accurate. Saturday morning saw a wonderful sunrise peaking through the branches of the tree lined route and the temps started out in the low 60's. The temps would rise with the sun, but the the tree cover was pretty constant. A few breaks from the trees provided overlooks that would simply bring you to a stop and take your breath away.
The gameplan for the day was to run 5&1's (run 5 minutes, walk 1) and target 11 min/mile for the marathon (+). The miles simply flew by absolutely effortlessly. I spent a number of miles running alongside several different individuals, just talking about running, family, life. At the 22'ish mile point, the course merged with the half marathon course, and since they started two hours after us, there were still folks on that course. With a fresh influx of bodies, I found a fresh energy and found myself moving quicker and quicker. I never, however, lost control of the moment, stayed within myself and crossed the finish at 4:17 (the course was about 6/10ths of a mile short due to a required reroute - so figure an additional 6 minutes for an accurate marathon time).
The race organizers could learn something about putting on a friendly event, but the lack of love at the finish area just made it that much easier to fill my bottles and head back out. This is the "+" part of the marathon. My original goal was to run the marathon course backwards, but I worried I wouldn't make the final boat back, so opted to run the half marathon course. A half mile up the road I found that the flags marking this course were already pulled - but I had a map in my pocket, so figured I'd be fine. And I was...for the first 4 miles. The course map was not very detailed and I struggled to make sense of it. Instead I relied on the maps posted at intersections on the island (complete with distances) and made my own 14 mile course (I even found a 1.5 mile climb to the center of the island - that was work! :-)
The finish of the extra loop meant a solid effort - a 40 mile day. My overall pace was 10:04. My effort level was barely moderate. I felt like I could have continued running all day. Confidence restored.
Face your fears. Live your dreams.
A few quick miscellaneous thoughts to wrap up this wonderful weekend:
Fact: I knew, intellectually, that this was a much harder course than my upcoming 100 miler.
Fact: I have been running long enough to identify my mistakes, learn, and move on.
Fact: I have been running long enough to know that sometimes it's just not your day.
Fact: Even as miserable as I was after DWD, my recovery came pretty quickly and ran well at a race the following weekend.
But with all that said, a seed of doubt had been planted.
Was the 100 miler too big a mountain? Was I really ready for this?
And what would people say that donated to the cause of raising funds for RA Research?
Funny, not funny ha-ha, but funny sad, how quickly things can change. One moment we "know" in our heart of hearts that the path we are traveling is down right ordained, and then, just like that, a DWD moment happens and we begin to question.
The Lord has always been faithful and when I cry out He has always been there. In years past, He would take me to the answer, but oftentimes that meant going through something first in order to find it.
The Lord I know, the kindly Father that has adopted me as His own (not the Lord of the Law that I grew up with), knew that this time I needed restoration without a test. And that came at the Grand Island Marathon (+) over the weekend.
A very laid back event on a very beautiful island in Lake Superior, just off the coast line of Munising in Michigan's UP, the race is considered a trail marathon, but a dirt road route is more accurate. Saturday morning saw a wonderful sunrise peaking through the branches of the tree lined route and the temps started out in the low 60's. The temps would rise with the sun, but the the tree cover was pretty constant. A few breaks from the trees provided overlooks that would simply bring you to a stop and take your breath away.
The gameplan for the day was to run 5&1's (run 5 minutes, walk 1) and target 11 min/mile for the marathon (+). The miles simply flew by absolutely effortlessly. I spent a number of miles running alongside several different individuals, just talking about running, family, life. At the 22'ish mile point, the course merged with the half marathon course, and since they started two hours after us, there were still folks on that course. With a fresh influx of bodies, I found a fresh energy and found myself moving quicker and quicker. I never, however, lost control of the moment, stayed within myself and crossed the finish at 4:17 (the course was about 6/10ths of a mile short due to a required reroute - so figure an additional 6 minutes for an accurate marathon time).
The race organizers could learn something about putting on a friendly event, but the lack of love at the finish area just made it that much easier to fill my bottles and head back out. This is the "+" part of the marathon. My original goal was to run the marathon course backwards, but I worried I wouldn't make the final boat back, so opted to run the half marathon course. A half mile up the road I found that the flags marking this course were already pulled - but I had a map in my pocket, so figured I'd be fine. And I was...for the first 4 miles. The course map was not very detailed and I struggled to make sense of it. Instead I relied on the maps posted at intersections on the island (complete with distances) and made my own 14 mile course (I even found a 1.5 mile climb to the center of the island - that was work! :-)
The finish of the extra loop meant a solid effort - a 40 mile day. My overall pace was 10:04. My effort level was barely moderate. I felt like I could have continued running all day. Confidence restored.
Face your fears. Live your dreams.
A few quick miscellaneous thoughts to wrap up this wonderful weekend:
- My friend Kacey traveled with me when my revised plan fell apart, after my original plan had fallen apart. You made the weekend great fun and rocked the marathon! Sorry about the stinky shoes in your car :-(
- Jeremy and Bonnie - so great spending time with you. After having email buds for so long, it was great to finally get to know you guys!
- Kudos to the waitress at the Friday dinner. Single handedly serving a banquet room full of hungry runners. You got your workout in for sure - and did it with class!
- The Terrace Motel and the proprietor Larry - A super friendly guy running a great (cute, friendly, clean) little Motel. Two enthusiastic thumbs up!
- Kathy - it was great to see you and spend a few minutes chatting - both over dinner and on the course. Good job out there (as a runner and as a mom)!
- Rachel - my new friend who I found off course, pushing to make the marathon cut-off of her first marathon. With the flags already pulled, she made a decision about the course that meant she too climbed to the center of the island before heading for the finish (she tried to figure out how to get a full 26.2 in and her Garmin told her the actual route would be short). We spent a few minutes together and helped each other find our way, so to speak. She did finish. And she made me feel special - I simply offered a word of encouragement and confirmation she was nearly done. For that I received a finish line hug, a huge smile, and a new friend that can boast about being a marathoner! Well done!
Tuesday, July 19, 2011
Dances With Dirt Devils Lake
Dances With Dirt (DWD) has it's origins in Hell, MI with a crazy relay and Ultra race that makes it's way through rivers, swamps and lakes and manages to throw in some stupid hard hills and rarely used trails with challenging footing.
My first 50 miler was DWD Hell, and you can read about that crazy day on one of my blog pages.
In preparation for the Woodstock 100, I opted to do my second in what is now four DWD races (the other two being Gnaw Bone Indiana and some gator bait swamp in Florida). What I did not properly plan for was the 16,000 feet of elevation change in this race...
The gun goes off at 6:30 a.m. and you go straight up a ski hill. First the bunny hill, then the intermediate. After fighting your way through some technical trail, it's time to go back down the double black diamond. That would be hard enough on it's own, but at 7 am the grass is wet with dew and it is a challenge to simply keep your feet under you (can you say, "butt slide" ?). Once safely down, at about 4.5 miles, it's time to head to Devils Lake State Park.
Pam and I missed each other at our first planned spot, Steinke Basin, just outside the park. The handlers instructions listed it as the 13.9 mile mark, but it was closer to 10. She got there just as I ran through. She saw me, but I never saw her. No worries for me as it was so early, but she was worried that I was going way too fast. I was confused, but felt comfortable so just stayed on that pace.
Devils Lake State Park is incredibly beautiful, and the race route includes four passes over the two bluffs (twice on each). These bluff climbs were about a mile in length, I believe, and climbed at between 1200 and 1500 feet in that mile. Ouch.
The first pass went well and we headed out of the park to the Burma aid where I saw Pam for the first time. This was about 16 miles and I switched to a lighter hat as there were no flies so I didn't need the hat with the fly flap. From Burma we did a 3 mile out-n-back, so a quick kiss at 19 and it was back to the park for the second bluff pass. At the base of the climb we travel through this amazing rock slide along the water (photos here).
This is a tougher climb than the first, and I was pleased to find aide at the top of the climb. Had orange slices (and I don't remember what else - just remember how great that orange tasted!) and headed down. A technical decent and then it's back to Steinke Basin, which is 25 miles. Arrived there at 5 hours (4:58) - right on my goal pace of 12 min miles. The only problem was that I had to work harder for this pace than I should have. 12's was supposed to be a 100 mile simulation (i.e. fairly easy for 50). I knew the second half would be much tougher as I was feeling a bit tired. The temps had risen well into the 80's and would top off at 89 before too much longer. Thankfully the humidity wasn't too bad.
At 29 miles I was back at the Lake Aide stop, where we pass through several times during the day, and I was still on pace and the volunteers were very encouraging about how well I was doing. It was here I realized every other runner I'd conversed with was doing the 50k though. Uh oh. Turns out most of the 50 milers were behind me and were obviously running a smarter race...
Some PBJ, a piece of licorice and a little trail mix (if I remember right), a topping off of the bottle and I was off to the third bluff climb. And that is where the wheels just fell off. On the way up I started cramping badly. While I had been taking electrolytes all day, I was obviously behind the curve. I made it up and over but found the downhill treacherous as my foot placement was challenged due to the leg cramping.
Down from the bluff I shuffled out to Burma Road aide where Pam was waiting for me with a chair and dowsed me with ice water and put ice down my shirt - front and back. She filled my bottles, I took in some more solid calories and it was off to the 3 mile out-n-back again. When I returned (~34 miles) she commented on how much better I looked. The previous ice bath really helped. Ok, just one more bluff climb...
The final bluff pass was ugly. My quads and hamstrings started cramping terribly as soon as I started climbing and the heat messed with me from the waist up with nausea and dizziness. Several times I was forced to stop and regroup, trying not to throw up or pass out :-) I got passed by a guy who gave me electrolytes from his stash (I'd been getting them from Pam, and didn't have any on me - in hindsight, a mistake).
I made it up to the bluff top aide and the woman there was out of everything except water. I found a rock to sit on for a minute but like she said, I had no choice but to go down on my own - there was no other option. Having heard that several had already been pulled from the course with nasty injuries (broken elbow, broken hand, and one unconscious runner found on the trail) I made a point to simply stay safe. Once down it was back to Steinke Basin for the last time. This was 39 miles and I told Pam I thought we should just pack it in and call it a day. She reminding me I'd hate myself if I didn't finish - even if this was just a training race.
Power walking was all I could manage from there to the 45 mile mark which is at the finish area. But in sight of the finish, it's a turn to the left, away from the finish, and back up that ski hill! The trip up was brutal, but there was a woman a couple hundred yards up the hill and I just kept trying to bring her back. Near the top I caught her, and one other caught me. We stayed together until it was time to head back down, but I was unable to move down as quickly they were. In fact, I needed to grab a big walking stick out of the brush and use it as a brake going down as I didn't have the leg strength to stop myself from toppling forward.
Finally, I reached the bottom and from there it was an easy downhill slope for a 1/2 mile or so to the finish where I attempted the best cartwheel I could (cartwheel photos here).
Finish line reached. Mission accomplished. Worked way too hard for this one, but glad I did continue to the finish. It's 10 days now from the race as I (finally) write this and can say that it was the right call. On five days rest I ran as part of a relay team in the Great Lakes Relay this last weekend (see me on Facebook for pictures of that crazy race), and managed a nice slow 17 miler this morning. I think I'm recovering well and believe I'm on track toward the 100 miler (but then, how would I really know? :-)
As always, I tip my hat to be beautiful bride and #1 fan and supporter. She is so committed to seeing me through these crazy events, and with the help of Terry, another ultra-wife she met out there, she is learning the tips and tricks to handling an ultra-husband when the going gets tough.
My finish time was 12:29. My naive goal was 10 hours (12 min/mile), but after talking with some folks the night before the race figured sub-11 was probably more realistic. My inexperience led me to the 5 & 7.5 hour halves, as I went out too quickly. Live and learn!
Of 98 starters in the 50 miler, only 54 finished. Feel fortunate to be listed in that selection.
I'll post a few pics from Pam, plus a few shots I found online taken from the bluff tops. Enjoy!
Press on friends...
Early on, feeling good...
Reaching the finish...
Grabbed these from the Internet, just to share some bluff shots..
Be sure to check out these 360 views...
http://www.devilslakewisconsin.com/360/DevilsDoorway/_flash/DevilsDoorway.html
http://www.devilslakewisconsin.com/360/balancedrock/_flash/balancedrock.html
My first 50 miler was DWD Hell, and you can read about that crazy day on one of my blog pages.
In preparation for the Woodstock 100, I opted to do my second in what is now four DWD races (the other two being Gnaw Bone Indiana and some gator bait swamp in Florida). What I did not properly plan for was the 16,000 feet of elevation change in this race...
The gun goes off at 6:30 a.m. and you go straight up a ski hill. First the bunny hill, then the intermediate. After fighting your way through some technical trail, it's time to go back down the double black diamond. That would be hard enough on it's own, but at 7 am the grass is wet with dew and it is a challenge to simply keep your feet under you (can you say, "butt slide" ?). Once safely down, at about 4.5 miles, it's time to head to Devils Lake State Park.
Pam and I missed each other at our first planned spot, Steinke Basin, just outside the park. The handlers instructions listed it as the 13.9 mile mark, but it was closer to 10. She got there just as I ran through. She saw me, but I never saw her. No worries for me as it was so early, but she was worried that I was going way too fast. I was confused, but felt comfortable so just stayed on that pace.
Devils Lake State Park is incredibly beautiful, and the race route includes four passes over the two bluffs (twice on each). These bluff climbs were about a mile in length, I believe, and climbed at between 1200 and 1500 feet in that mile. Ouch.
The first pass went well and we headed out of the park to the Burma aid where I saw Pam for the first time. This was about 16 miles and I switched to a lighter hat as there were no flies so I didn't need the hat with the fly flap. From Burma we did a 3 mile out-n-back, so a quick kiss at 19 and it was back to the park for the second bluff pass. At the base of the climb we travel through this amazing rock slide along the water (photos here).
This is a tougher climb than the first, and I was pleased to find aide at the top of the climb. Had orange slices (and I don't remember what else - just remember how great that orange tasted!) and headed down. A technical decent and then it's back to Steinke Basin, which is 25 miles. Arrived there at 5 hours (4:58) - right on my goal pace of 12 min miles. The only problem was that I had to work harder for this pace than I should have. 12's was supposed to be a 100 mile simulation (i.e. fairly easy for 50). I knew the second half would be much tougher as I was feeling a bit tired. The temps had risen well into the 80's and would top off at 89 before too much longer. Thankfully the humidity wasn't too bad.
At 29 miles I was back at the Lake Aide stop, where we pass through several times during the day, and I was still on pace and the volunteers were very encouraging about how well I was doing. It was here I realized every other runner I'd conversed with was doing the 50k though. Uh oh. Turns out most of the 50 milers were behind me and were obviously running a smarter race...
Some PBJ, a piece of licorice and a little trail mix (if I remember right), a topping off of the bottle and I was off to the third bluff climb. And that is where the wheels just fell off. On the way up I started cramping badly. While I had been taking electrolytes all day, I was obviously behind the curve. I made it up and over but found the downhill treacherous as my foot placement was challenged due to the leg cramping.
Down from the bluff I shuffled out to Burma Road aide where Pam was waiting for me with a chair and dowsed me with ice water and put ice down my shirt - front and back. She filled my bottles, I took in some more solid calories and it was off to the 3 mile out-n-back again. When I returned (~34 miles) she commented on how much better I looked. The previous ice bath really helped. Ok, just one more bluff climb...
The final bluff pass was ugly. My quads and hamstrings started cramping terribly as soon as I started climbing and the heat messed with me from the waist up with nausea and dizziness. Several times I was forced to stop and regroup, trying not to throw up or pass out :-) I got passed by a guy who gave me electrolytes from his stash (I'd been getting them from Pam, and didn't have any on me - in hindsight, a mistake).
I made it up to the bluff top aide and the woman there was out of everything except water. I found a rock to sit on for a minute but like she said, I had no choice but to go down on my own - there was no other option. Having heard that several had already been pulled from the course with nasty injuries (broken elbow, broken hand, and one unconscious runner found on the trail) I made a point to simply stay safe. Once down it was back to Steinke Basin for the last time. This was 39 miles and I told Pam I thought we should just pack it in and call it a day. She reminding me I'd hate myself if I didn't finish - even if this was just a training race.
Power walking was all I could manage from there to the 45 mile mark which is at the finish area. But in sight of the finish, it's a turn to the left, away from the finish, and back up that ski hill! The trip up was brutal, but there was a woman a couple hundred yards up the hill and I just kept trying to bring her back. Near the top I caught her, and one other caught me. We stayed together until it was time to head back down, but I was unable to move down as quickly they were. In fact, I needed to grab a big walking stick out of the brush and use it as a brake going down as I didn't have the leg strength to stop myself from toppling forward.
Finally, I reached the bottom and from there it was an easy downhill slope for a 1/2 mile or so to the finish where I attempted the best cartwheel I could (cartwheel photos here).
Finish line reached. Mission accomplished. Worked way too hard for this one, but glad I did continue to the finish. It's 10 days now from the race as I (finally) write this and can say that it was the right call. On five days rest I ran as part of a relay team in the Great Lakes Relay this last weekend (see me on Facebook for pictures of that crazy race), and managed a nice slow 17 miler this morning. I think I'm recovering well and believe I'm on track toward the 100 miler (but then, how would I really know? :-)
As always, I tip my hat to be beautiful bride and #1 fan and supporter. She is so committed to seeing me through these crazy events, and with the help of Terry, another ultra-wife she met out there, she is learning the tips and tricks to handling an ultra-husband when the going gets tough.
My finish time was 12:29. My naive goal was 10 hours (12 min/mile), but after talking with some folks the night before the race figured sub-11 was probably more realistic. My inexperience led me to the 5 & 7.5 hour halves, as I went out too quickly. Live and learn!
Of 98 starters in the 50 miler, only 54 finished. Feel fortunate to be listed in that selection.
I'll post a few pics from Pam, plus a few shots I found online taken from the bluff tops. Enjoy!
Press on friends...
Early on, feeling good...
Reaching the finish...
Grabbed these from the Internet, just to share some bluff shots..
Be sure to check out these 360 views...
http://www.devilslakewisconsin.com/360/DevilsDoorway/_flash/DevilsDoorway.html
http://www.devilslakewisconsin.com/360/balancedrock/_flash/balancedrock.html
Friday, July 8, 2011
Look forward by looking back
Prepare to run the Devils Lake 50 miler tomorrow morning (23 hours until lift-off...), reflecting on the preparation of the last several weeks, I came away with these thoughts:
And then, of course, through it all, is my wife Pam, always asking "do you need anything?" "what can I do to help?" and special days like FB posts of "I'm so proud of this man..."
So, as I ponder my preparedness, I'm struck by the blinding flash of the obvious that I've got some pretty darn cool people in my life, and if I carry that into the race, I'm gonna be just fine...
Press on friends.
- The 28 miler several Saturdays back - Picking Kevin's brain, the experienced ultra guy. His buddy Ryan. Tim and Kate who clearly heard me say it was a 15 mile loop but chose to process "it's 10 miles..." :-)
- The 21 miler the next morning with Jocelyn, Jenifer and running dog extraordinaire Biscuit. Always love spending time with Jocelyn, and this day it was great to get to know Jenifer and be amazed by her 8 lb. Yorkie Biscuit!
- Meeting Kai face to face for the first time on a Wednesday night, on the trail, but only being able to spend 30 seconds chatting before the mosquitoes orchestrated a plan to simply carry me away. That was my first time in the Minimus!
- The following weekends debacle of a long run with my buddy Matt. Totally imploded on this day, but somehow if this has to happen, Matt is the right guy to be with. So easy going and always has great perspective.
- Two weekends back Christina, Tim and Kate joining me for the first 15 miles of a night time trail run. We laughed (and some of us ate bugs and then puked...), had a great time, and helped scare away the boogey-men, making my second dark lonely lap much easier (just wish we had scared away all the skunks :-)
- Kai taking the time to send two great emails with insights on the Devils Lake course and even sharing his fueling strategies and such.
- Then yesterday, a surprise fund raiser arranged by my coworkers at a local eatery where 20% of all monies spent go to my Running For RA cause. Plenty of food and drink and fun enjoyed by all. I don't know the dollar amount yet, but just seeing everyone coming out and having a good time was awesome. A special thanks to my Tuesday night LifeGroup (i.e. Bible Study) that drove 40 minutes to attend. You guys Rock!
And then, of course, through it all, is my wife Pam, always asking "do you need anything?" "what can I do to help?" and special days like FB posts of "I'm so proud of this man..."
So, as I ponder my preparedness, I'm struck by the blinding flash of the obvious that I've got some pretty darn cool people in my life, and if I carry that into the race, I'm gonna be just fine...
Press on friends.
Wednesday, July 6, 2011
3 Days and counting...
...Until the "Dances with Dirt @ Devils Lake 50 miler", that is. Devils Lake is in Baraboo WI, just north of Madison (www.dwddevilslake.com) . The race starts at 5:30 a.m. Saturday.
This will be my biggest test since my 45 mile run on my 45th birthday, and while I believe I am ready, a review of last years finish times tells me the course is more difficult than I may have thought. Sure, it's only 5 miles further, but the terrain, well, that's a whole different level. I have hiked this area before, but am not familiar with the specific course. So my target (a very loosely defined goal) is 10 hours, but we'll have to wait and see...
As this is a "training race", I am giving myself only a 4 day taper. That will be enough to feel reasonably fresh going into the race, without sacrificing too much training time. The mileage increase in my training has left both my Achilles a bit tender, but I do not believe it is anything to worry about. A great big shout out to my massage therapist Julie who is so awesome at smoothing out the kinks and stretching out the tight spots!
As always, my #1 fan will be my crew. Pam is amazing, and amazingly committed. I tried to convince her I'd be fine ("It's only 50 miles...") and that she should drive to Madison for the farmers market (which is amazing if you've never seen it). But she insists - "that's not what I do..." she says, as she studies the Ultra Handler Auto Route. No arguing the point. I'll just hope to finish fresh enough to be able to show her the sights myself!
Why do we (i.e. runners) do this, huh? Myriad reasons why I run. Sometimes because it offers a wonderful escape from the craziness of life. Lately, I admit, that has been a significant motivating factor. However, as Saturday grows closer, I find myself as excited for the chance for Pam and I to get away for a few days, even if half of it will be spent driving. We'll have some quality time together in a town we both love (Madison, that is), and even get to visit some friends. If not for running, I'd probably fill my weekend with chores...
My 100 Mile Ultra countdown (at www.crowdrise.com/runningforra) says 67 days. Friends like Lorrie are another reason why I run. Looking forward to sharing more in the days to come, so stay tuned! (www.facebook.com/runningforra).
This will be my biggest test since my 45 mile run on my 45th birthday, and while I believe I am ready, a review of last years finish times tells me the course is more difficult than I may have thought. Sure, it's only 5 miles further, but the terrain, well, that's a whole different level. I have hiked this area before, but am not familiar with the specific course. So my target (a very loosely defined goal) is 10 hours, but we'll have to wait and see...
As this is a "training race", I am giving myself only a 4 day taper. That will be enough to feel reasonably fresh going into the race, without sacrificing too much training time. The mileage increase in my training has left both my Achilles a bit tender, but I do not believe it is anything to worry about. A great big shout out to my massage therapist Julie who is so awesome at smoothing out the kinks and stretching out the tight spots!
As always, my #1 fan will be my crew. Pam is amazing, and amazingly committed. I tried to convince her I'd be fine ("It's only 50 miles...") and that she should drive to Madison for the farmers market (which is amazing if you've never seen it). But she insists - "that's not what I do..." she says, as she studies the Ultra Handler Auto Route. No arguing the point. I'll just hope to finish fresh enough to be able to show her the sights myself!
Why do we (i.e. runners) do this, huh? Myriad reasons why I run. Sometimes because it offers a wonderful escape from the craziness of life. Lately, I admit, that has been a significant motivating factor. However, as Saturday grows closer, I find myself as excited for the chance for Pam and I to get away for a few days, even if half of it will be spent driving. We'll have some quality time together in a town we both love (Madison, that is), and even get to visit some friends. If not for running, I'd probably fill my weekend with chores...
My 100 Mile Ultra countdown (at www.crowdrise.com/runningforra) says 67 days. Friends like Lorrie are another reason why I run. Looking forward to sharing more in the days to come, so stay tuned! (www.facebook.com/runningforra).
Tuesday, June 21, 2011
What if you can't quit?
Beginning:
Saturday was a scheduled 35 mile afternoon/evening run, with the final 13 miles on the challenging Potowatami Trail (in the Pickney MI area).
Schedules changed and it became a hurried 14+ mile run starting in the late morning, and I proved not at all ready. I hadn't eaten, didn't warm up, didn't mentally prepare for the hours of running ahead. When my start time moved from 3pm to "now!" all careful planning and preparation went out the window and I just needed to run. Which I did, and way too fast. Big mistake...
Bonking:
My buddy picked me up (the new plan was for me to just run 'til he caught me) and we drove the balance of the miles to the trail. Just like that I went from clicking off sub 9's to struggling with something around 11. "I just need to regroup, get warmed up again..." I told myself. "It is a difficult trail, relax, you'll be fine..." I tried to convince my ever doubtful mind and body. Then, just like that, I was...
Walking...
First it was just the big hills. Then the little ones. Then I didn't need a reason...
Whining:
I let my buddy go on ahead and I started a litany of "whoa is me" mental breakdown moments. Which led to...
Wishing (akin to Quitting):
Is there a shortcut? Maybe a Park Ranger will see me and offer me a ride? Why did I do this to myself? I want it to just be over - this was a stupid idea...
Realizing:
Having shuffled my way back to the trail head, we drove off to find something cold to drink and I started to realize what a moment I had missed. While wallowing in my self induced pity party I completely forgot that I had been doing, even though poorly, what is usually a high point of my day.
While I was wishing I could quit, that my pain would end, that the run would just be done, I forgot a truth that I had promised myself years ago I never would - to never forget those who can't simply choose to quit, to call it a day. Those that can't say "I don't want to be sick today" or "I don't want to be injured any more". Having dealt with back pain for nearly 15 years, several times brutally so, I had developed a sensitivity to the mental and physical challenge of chronic injury and disease and never wanted to take something like "just going for a run" for granted.
Recovering
A cold drink, a cool shower, some time on the couch and I was well on my way to being physically restored. Simple as that.
Revitalized
After some good fueling and quality rest I did have a recovered body. The fresh perspective helped to revitalize my spirit. So, now I am...
Recommitted - to Being and Doing and Growing
Persevering through the tough moments is usually the precursor to the joy of victory.
I will continue to tackle bigger challenges and learn appropriate lessons - trusting that it will guide me to the 100 mile ultra finish line.
Press on friends!
Won't you also join me and become a financial partner in our mission to raise money for RA Research? Learn more at:
www.facebook.com/RunningForRA
www.crowdrise.com/RunningForRA
Saturday was a scheduled 35 mile afternoon/evening run, with the final 13 miles on the challenging Potowatami Trail (in the Pickney MI area).
Schedules changed and it became a hurried 14+ mile run starting in the late morning, and I proved not at all ready. I hadn't eaten, didn't warm up, didn't mentally prepare for the hours of running ahead. When my start time moved from 3pm to "now!" all careful planning and preparation went out the window and I just needed to run. Which I did, and way too fast. Big mistake...
Bonking:
My buddy picked me up (the new plan was for me to just run 'til he caught me) and we drove the balance of the miles to the trail. Just like that I went from clicking off sub 9's to struggling with something around 11. "I just need to regroup, get warmed up again..." I told myself. "It is a difficult trail, relax, you'll be fine..." I tried to convince my ever doubtful mind and body. Then, just like that, I was...
Walking...
First it was just the big hills. Then the little ones. Then I didn't need a reason...
Whining:
I let my buddy go on ahead and I started a litany of "whoa is me" mental breakdown moments. Which led to...
Wishing (akin to Quitting):
Is there a shortcut? Maybe a Park Ranger will see me and offer me a ride? Why did I do this to myself? I want it to just be over - this was a stupid idea...
Realizing:
Having shuffled my way back to the trail head, we drove off to find something cold to drink and I started to realize what a moment I had missed. While wallowing in my self induced pity party I completely forgot that I had been doing, even though poorly, what is usually a high point of my day.
While I was wishing I could quit, that my pain would end, that the run would just be done, I forgot a truth that I had promised myself years ago I never would - to never forget those who can't simply choose to quit, to call it a day. Those that can't say "I don't want to be sick today" or "I don't want to be injured any more". Having dealt with back pain for nearly 15 years, several times brutally so, I had developed a sensitivity to the mental and physical challenge of chronic injury and disease and never wanted to take something like "just going for a run" for granted.
Recovering
A cold drink, a cool shower, some time on the couch and I was well on my way to being physically restored. Simple as that.
Revitalized
After some good fueling and quality rest I did have a recovered body. The fresh perspective helped to revitalize my spirit. So, now I am...
Recommitted - to Being and Doing and Growing
- "Being" appreciative of all that I have and am able to do - even when it doesn't go as planned.
- "Doing" - taking action where I can, especially for those that cannot. To pray for restoration of body, soul and spirit. To encourage with a kind word. To give of my time, talent and treasure.
- "Growing" - continuing to learn from my friends that do struggle with debilitating challenges, and do it with grace and peace and even joy. You know who you are and you ROCK!
Persevering through the tough moments is usually the precursor to the joy of victory.
I will continue to tackle bigger challenges and learn appropriate lessons - trusting that it will guide me to the 100 mile ultra finish line.
Press on friends!
Won't you also join me and become a financial partner in our mission to raise money for RA Research? Learn more at:
www.facebook.com/RunningForRA
www.crowdrise.com/RunningForRA
Sunday, June 12, 2011
There is no pill for this...
Ask an accomplished and/or experienced runner about "why" they run and you'll likely get experiences that are much less about the physical than the emotional or spiritual. They will describe being in the zone, or use terms like flow or floating, excitement, adventure, and challenge. They will describe benefits such as strength of character, patience, joy, harmony, peace or tranquility. Oh, of course there are myriad physical benefits, but so often those are secondary.
Ask the same of the new runner and the motivation is usually focused on the physical - weight loss, management of things like diabetes or heart disease. The new runner will also fixate on the struggles of breathlessness, blisters, shin splints, stuff that jiggles and areas that rub.
Running is hard. The results are priceless. Sometimes it takes a while to travel from the first experience to the latter. But it is oh so worth it.
It's no secret that the world wants what the experienced runner has found. The world does not want, however, to deal with such things as time management, sacrifice and discipline, blisters, or jiggles and chafing. The world looks for an easier route.
The way I see it, God created this world for our enjoyment. Our bodies are fearfully and wonderfully designed to experience its sights, sounds, smells, tastes and textures. The plan was simple (but not easy). The execution (by selfish man) has been poor - seeking instant gratification, pleasure without accountability, and a pill or other such answer when things go wrong. Perhaps it's time for a change?
Training for an Ultra Marathon has reminded me that running is hard. However, the benefits so vastly outweigh the struggle. Time on the run, whether on road or trail, makes me feel alive and puts all of life's challenges into perspective. Running alone or with friends, and of course with my Lord all leave indelible memories. Overcoming fears and doubts or previously perceived limits leaves me with a new level of physical strength and quiet confidence.
If only I could bottle that and sell it!
But alas, I cannot. Nobody can. What I can do is promise that you can indeed share in this, and it's simple (but not easy). What do you say? As Dave Ramsey likes to say about managing your finances I will say about this topic - Live today like nobody else, so tomorrow you can live like nobody else.
Ready...Set... Get up friends. Get out. Get moving. Face your fears. Live your dreams.
Pressing on,
Chuck
Ask the same of the new runner and the motivation is usually focused on the physical - weight loss, management of things like diabetes or heart disease. The new runner will also fixate on the struggles of breathlessness, blisters, shin splints, stuff that jiggles and areas that rub.
Running is hard. The results are priceless. Sometimes it takes a while to travel from the first experience to the latter. But it is oh so worth it.
It's no secret that the world wants what the experienced runner has found. The world does not want, however, to deal with such things as time management, sacrifice and discipline, blisters, or jiggles and chafing. The world looks for an easier route.
The way I see it, God created this world for our enjoyment. Our bodies are fearfully and wonderfully designed to experience its sights, sounds, smells, tastes and textures. The plan was simple (but not easy). The execution (by selfish man) has been poor - seeking instant gratification, pleasure without accountability, and a pill or other such answer when things go wrong. Perhaps it's time for a change?
Training for an Ultra Marathon has reminded me that running is hard. However, the benefits so vastly outweigh the struggle. Time on the run, whether on road or trail, makes me feel alive and puts all of life's challenges into perspective. Running alone or with friends, and of course with my Lord all leave indelible memories. Overcoming fears and doubts or previously perceived limits leaves me with a new level of physical strength and quiet confidence.
If only I could bottle that and sell it!
But alas, I cannot. Nobody can. What I can do is promise that you can indeed share in this, and it's simple (but not easy). What do you say? As Dave Ramsey likes to say about managing your finances I will say about this topic - Live today like nobody else, so tomorrow you can live like nobody else.
Ready...Set... Get up friends. Get out. Get moving. Face your fears. Live your dreams.
Pressing on,
Chuck
Saturday, May 28, 2011
45 on my 45th
It's good to have friends.
Running is, obviously, a selfish endeavor and typically a lonely one as well. Even when there are opportunities to run with friends or a group you are often left to try and explain the joy, the sights, sounds, smells or emotion of a run to your non-running loved ones and that is difficult at best. To pay back on the selfish scale we volunteer at an event or run for a cause. On this one day, I believe I managed to connect all of those dots in a most memorable of ways.
My 45th birthday. For more than a decade I've desired to "run my age" on my birthday but it was not to be, until this year. With a 100 mile Ultra Marathon goal in September, it seemed the perfect year. I scheduled the time off work, and with it being the Thursday before the Memorial holiday weekend, figured I could tie it in with our typical camping trip or perhaps with the Thursday night run club. Beyond that, however, I figured I'd just be out traipsing through the area for hours on my own. And I was good with that - looked forward to it actually.
As I shared the 45/45 idea with friends a few expressed interest in running some miles with me. Sure thing! Figured some company would be great.
The Ultra journey grew into a "run for a cause", and my friend Lorrie with RA (her struggle, my cause), started sending letters to the paper, TV news, talk shows, etc. Several days before my birthday the local paper contacted us and wanted to do a profile. Cool, spread the word!
Then the big city paper called. Then the TV news.
Then I started getting anxious. This was beyond what I had imagined, and I was excited that we were getting a platform to share our vision, but I also found myself thrust onto something of a stage, suddenly feeling like this 45/45 was a performance, with a pass/fail test.
I shared this with my sister and she helped straighten me out and settle me down a bit, but come 11 a.m. on Thursday, the scheduled start time, I was anxious to get started and even left 5 minutes early, thinking I might need that extra time later. I had markers to hit - friends that were meeting me, the photographer from the paper, and I had to be at the church for run club at 6:30.
The first 2 miles I went out at 8:30 pace and knew I had to settle myself down and slow myself down. After all, my targets were all based on an 11:00 minute/mile goal. At 6 I saw my wife and Lorrie for the first time and had an average pace of 9:10 at that point. My legs were heavy and my hips were tight but I tried to appear calm and confident (not sure I pulled it off).
At the 10 mile mark my average was 9:27.
At the 15 mile mark my average was still under 10 and I was going to try and keep it there for as long as I could, knowing the final miles would likely be much slower. Thankfully, I had managed to find a way to stretch out the hip flexor that had been bothering me. Most important though was that somewhere after 10 miles I finally relaxed into the run. I embraced all the other aspects of this day instead of worrying about them and then just enjoyed the running. Pam and Lorrie were checking on me every handful of miles or so and I found myself excited for the next time I saw that little white car and benefited from my wife's awesome support and the smiles and words of encouragement from Lorrie. They even put out Happy Birthday signs and balloons at a number of corners.
At about 12 miles was a right turn onto Read Rd, the first of a number of roads I'd never been on before. That's when the "I am so blessed to be here" moments began. Rolling hills, lakes, historic homes, and the smells, oh the smells. It has been raining for days. It was rainy on this day, too. But that just made the grass and leaves so much greener and the brown tree trunks vibrant. The flowers were pungent. The rivers and creeks were rushing powerfully downstream with evidence of where they'd been over their banks in recent days. Despite the weather, even partly because of it, it had become a great day - and I was so pleased that Pam and Lorrie were sharing in a way that non-runners seldom do!
A random highlight - meeting Bentley. A dog twice the size of the PJ plaid little girl trying to control him. "He won't bite" she yelled as he came bounding my way. He looked like he was fresh off a swim - 80 lbs or more of sloppy, wet, puppy love heading my way. "...but he will jump on you..." she continued. I just tried to stay the course, but ended up getting tattooed with two giant paw prints on my backside. Bentley was friendly, but didn't want to get caught. He'd come within arms reach, but then pull away. I spent several minutes trying get hold of him for the little girl so we could each go our own way (when I tried to just run away he'd go with me). She finally dropped a treat and when he went for it grabbed the collar. Good plan! And I was off again.
At 22 I was supposed to meet Christina. I called her to tell her all was well and I was ahead of schedule, "meet me further down the road." I got off the phone and everything started to fall apart (of course). Fatigue was sudden and overwhelming. Then a searing pain shot through my knee on a climb. So bad was it that I was unable to lift my leg to push up the hill. No, no, no, no, no. This can't happen. Lord please! I walked the next couple of hills and ran where I could - the downhills and flats - and the pain subsided.
At 26 Christina found me and joined me for "6 or 7 miles, I don't know, maybe 90 minutes..." 14 miles later :-) we arrived together at the church. Christina and I met at a club ride last summer and had a couple of chats on the bike over several weeks. This was a great way to get to know each other a bit more and I cannot tell you how much the company helped. Pam later told me that the longer the day went the better I started looking. Thanks Christina, you were a great motivator!
Random highlight #2 - "Do you have a cellphone?" she yelled from across the street. A woman, sitting on a pillow, on a curb, with small bag next to her. We stopped and she explained that she had been kicked out by her sister-in-law. She was homeless. "Do you have someone to call?" "Call 911, please." "Is that a 911 emergency?" "Well, yes, I'm homeless!" I gave her my phone and Christina urged me to keep moving and that she'd get my phone back and catch me. Which she did. 911 explained to the woman there was nothing they could do. I felt bad. That was strange. I wish her well.
At about 32 miles (I think?) the photographer from the local paper found us. A brief chat and a few "action shots" and we were moving again. Great guy. Felt bad he had to come out in this weather :-)
36 miles - McDonalds! No, had to pass on the Value Meal :-) Just picking up a pair of gloves from the "support crew" and a couple more friends - Cathie and Sue. Apparently my guy friends were afraid of the weather (or had to work) or something :-PPP
The rain was harder and I was cold. One block down the road my knee pain flared again. Not even a hill this time. I was barely able to propel my leg forward, even walking. I stopped. The ladies prayed for healing in my knee. We walked a minute, then we were off running again. Yeah God. I could smell the finish line!
We arrived at the church, the 40.5 mile mark, at 6:10 pm. 20 minutes ahead of schedule. Christina made a dash for her waiting ride and the dry, warm clothes that awaited. With 14 miles banked, she flashed a big smile and was off for her family weekend. I decided to do a 1.5 mile out-n-back instead of waiting around until 6:30.
When I arrived back at the church a number of brave souls had shown up and donned a birthday hat (thanks Jocelyn!) and hand made "race bibs" (thanks Coreena!) with everyone as #45 for "Chuck's Birthday Run". So cool.
I took a minute to share my vision and to say thanks to the group for coming out on such a crummy day. Lorrie and I both shed a tear. Then we took to the streets, with the bibs, and the hats, and the rain and cold, and I felt like the most special person on the planet.
3 miles later, it was done. Mission accomplished.
At the finish we enjoyed home baked cookies and birthday cake (thanks Cathie and my daughter Stephanie!).
Hmmm...dinner anyone? "A table for 12, please." Warm breadsticks and a huge plate of Ravioli. Yum!
Think it's time for bed, after all, we need to get up at 5am to get Pam to the hospital for shoulder surgery. The journey continues...
Press on friends.
p.s. Surgery went well. Pam will be in a sling for a few weeks. Phone interview with the Detroit Free Press on Friday afternoon went well, I believe. Humbled. Excited. Ready for more.
Stats: Miles - 45, Pace - 10:47, Time - 8:06, Method - 5/1 (5 minute run, 1 minute walk)
My day, in photo's...
Running is, obviously, a selfish endeavor and typically a lonely one as well. Even when there are opportunities to run with friends or a group you are often left to try and explain the joy, the sights, sounds, smells or emotion of a run to your non-running loved ones and that is difficult at best. To pay back on the selfish scale we volunteer at an event or run for a cause. On this one day, I believe I managed to connect all of those dots in a most memorable of ways.
My 45th birthday. For more than a decade I've desired to "run my age" on my birthday but it was not to be, until this year. With a 100 mile Ultra Marathon goal in September, it seemed the perfect year. I scheduled the time off work, and with it being the Thursday before the Memorial holiday weekend, figured I could tie it in with our typical camping trip or perhaps with the Thursday night run club. Beyond that, however, I figured I'd just be out traipsing through the area for hours on my own. And I was good with that - looked forward to it actually.
As I shared the 45/45 idea with friends a few expressed interest in running some miles with me. Sure thing! Figured some company would be great.
The Ultra journey grew into a "run for a cause", and my friend Lorrie with RA (her struggle, my cause), started sending letters to the paper, TV news, talk shows, etc. Several days before my birthday the local paper contacted us and wanted to do a profile. Cool, spread the word!
Then the big city paper called. Then the TV news.
Then I started getting anxious. This was beyond what I had imagined, and I was excited that we were getting a platform to share our vision, but I also found myself thrust onto something of a stage, suddenly feeling like this 45/45 was a performance, with a pass/fail test.
I shared this with my sister and she helped straighten me out and settle me down a bit, but come 11 a.m. on Thursday, the scheduled start time, I was anxious to get started and even left 5 minutes early, thinking I might need that extra time later. I had markers to hit - friends that were meeting me, the photographer from the paper, and I had to be at the church for run club at 6:30.
The first 2 miles I went out at 8:30 pace and knew I had to settle myself down and slow myself down. After all, my targets were all based on an 11:00 minute/mile goal. At 6 I saw my wife and Lorrie for the first time and had an average pace of 9:10 at that point. My legs were heavy and my hips were tight but I tried to appear calm and confident (not sure I pulled it off).
At the 10 mile mark my average was 9:27.
At the 15 mile mark my average was still under 10 and I was going to try and keep it there for as long as I could, knowing the final miles would likely be much slower. Thankfully, I had managed to find a way to stretch out the hip flexor that had been bothering me. Most important though was that somewhere after 10 miles I finally relaxed into the run. I embraced all the other aspects of this day instead of worrying about them and then just enjoyed the running. Pam and Lorrie were checking on me every handful of miles or so and I found myself excited for the next time I saw that little white car and benefited from my wife's awesome support and the smiles and words of encouragement from Lorrie. They even put out Happy Birthday signs and balloons at a number of corners.
At about 12 miles was a right turn onto Read Rd, the first of a number of roads I'd never been on before. That's when the "I am so blessed to be here" moments began. Rolling hills, lakes, historic homes, and the smells, oh the smells. It has been raining for days. It was rainy on this day, too. But that just made the grass and leaves so much greener and the brown tree trunks vibrant. The flowers were pungent. The rivers and creeks were rushing powerfully downstream with evidence of where they'd been over their banks in recent days. Despite the weather, even partly because of it, it had become a great day - and I was so pleased that Pam and Lorrie were sharing in a way that non-runners seldom do!
A random highlight - meeting Bentley. A dog twice the size of the PJ plaid little girl trying to control him. "He won't bite" she yelled as he came bounding my way. He looked like he was fresh off a swim - 80 lbs or more of sloppy, wet, puppy love heading my way. "...but he will jump on you..." she continued. I just tried to stay the course, but ended up getting tattooed with two giant paw prints on my backside. Bentley was friendly, but didn't want to get caught. He'd come within arms reach, but then pull away. I spent several minutes trying get hold of him for the little girl so we could each go our own way (when I tried to just run away he'd go with me). She finally dropped a treat and when he went for it grabbed the collar. Good plan! And I was off again.
At 22 I was supposed to meet Christina. I called her to tell her all was well and I was ahead of schedule, "meet me further down the road." I got off the phone and everything started to fall apart (of course). Fatigue was sudden and overwhelming. Then a searing pain shot through my knee on a climb. So bad was it that I was unable to lift my leg to push up the hill. No, no, no, no, no. This can't happen. Lord please! I walked the next couple of hills and ran where I could - the downhills and flats - and the pain subsided.
At 26 Christina found me and joined me for "6 or 7 miles, I don't know, maybe 90 minutes..." 14 miles later :-) we arrived together at the church. Christina and I met at a club ride last summer and had a couple of chats on the bike over several weeks. This was a great way to get to know each other a bit more and I cannot tell you how much the company helped. Pam later told me that the longer the day went the better I started looking. Thanks Christina, you were a great motivator!
Random highlight #2 - "Do you have a cellphone?" she yelled from across the street. A woman, sitting on a pillow, on a curb, with small bag next to her. We stopped and she explained that she had been kicked out by her sister-in-law. She was homeless. "Do you have someone to call?" "Call 911, please." "Is that a 911 emergency?" "Well, yes, I'm homeless!" I gave her my phone and Christina urged me to keep moving and that she'd get my phone back and catch me. Which she did. 911 explained to the woman there was nothing they could do. I felt bad. That was strange. I wish her well.
At about 32 miles (I think?) the photographer from the local paper found us. A brief chat and a few "action shots" and we were moving again. Great guy. Felt bad he had to come out in this weather :-)
36 miles - McDonalds! No, had to pass on the Value Meal :-) Just picking up a pair of gloves from the "support crew" and a couple more friends - Cathie and Sue. Apparently my guy friends were afraid of the weather (or had to work) or something :-PPP
The rain was harder and I was cold. One block down the road my knee pain flared again. Not even a hill this time. I was barely able to propel my leg forward, even walking. I stopped. The ladies prayed for healing in my knee. We walked a minute, then we were off running again. Yeah God. I could smell the finish line!
We arrived at the church, the 40.5 mile mark, at 6:10 pm. 20 minutes ahead of schedule. Christina made a dash for her waiting ride and the dry, warm clothes that awaited. With 14 miles banked, she flashed a big smile and was off for her family weekend. I decided to do a 1.5 mile out-n-back instead of waiting around until 6:30.
When I arrived back at the church a number of brave souls had shown up and donned a birthday hat (thanks Jocelyn!) and hand made "race bibs" (thanks Coreena!) with everyone as #45 for "Chuck's Birthday Run". So cool.
I took a minute to share my vision and to say thanks to the group for coming out on such a crummy day. Lorrie and I both shed a tear. Then we took to the streets, with the bibs, and the hats, and the rain and cold, and I felt like the most special person on the planet.
3 miles later, it was done. Mission accomplished.
At the finish we enjoyed home baked cookies and birthday cake (thanks Cathie and my daughter Stephanie!).
Hmmm...dinner anyone? "A table for 12, please." Warm breadsticks and a huge plate of Ravioli. Yum!
Think it's time for bed, after all, we need to get up at 5am to get Pam to the hospital for shoulder surgery. The journey continues...
Press on friends.
p.s. Surgery went well. Pam will be in a sling for a few weeks. Phone interview with the Detroit Free Press on Friday afternoon went well, I believe. Humbled. Excited. Ready for more.
Stats: Miles - 45, Pace - 10:47, Time - 8:06, Method - 5/1 (5 minute run, 1 minute walk)
My day, in photo's...
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| Team "Seriously?" at the start |
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| Shirt Pam made for me... |
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| And we're off! |
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| Sometimes it's the little things... |
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| I thought I was smiling. Now I know what Pam means when she says I "looked rough" |
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| Yeah, that's the spot! |
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| Christina had to endure the less than beautiful sections of the route... |
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| The photographer by the pole. Christina trying to stay out of the shot :-) |
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| 40.5 Miles! Cathie and Sue, in the back, had stopped to fix one of the birthday signs |
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| 36 miles! Time to refuel, put on some gloves. Push for the finish... |
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| The group. I donned the jacket to fight off a nasty chill... |
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| The final 100 yards. |
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| Done! |
Thursday, May 26, 2011
Face your fears. Live your dreams. Even if it means facing the boogie man...
Sometimes the fears we face are not those we expect. The question is, how do we respond "in the moment"?
First, a little background...
Fresh off of my marathon (on 4/17) I had a great 13 mile trail run at "Poto". It was a relaxed effort with friends and appreciated that my plan to take it a bit easy at the marathon provided the desired result - little interruption in training.
The following weekend had on tap my first ever attempt at a double 20. Friday afternoon called for a 20 mile effort at Pontiac Lake - a fairly technical trail with lots of short steep climbs. It was a "success" in that I completed it. But the execution was uuuuuglly! Stomach issues. Dizziness. Chills. Dead legs. Had a friend not joined me for the second half I wouldn't have made it. My overriding thought at this point was that such trials may well occur on race day, so what are you going to do? I opted to gut it out, and am glad I did.
I enjoyed a good bike ride on Saturday to spin the legs and then arose for an early morning, pre-church, 20 miler on Sunday. This was a dirt road run, quiet, gentle, rolling and it was special. Ran 2 minutes per mile faster, on average, than Friday and simply clicked off the miles. Whamma Jamma.
Ok, here we go - facing the boogie man...
Five days later it was time for the next long run. A 30 mile trail run - at night. This would be my second longest run - EVER, with my only longer run being the 50 mile DWD ultra in 2007 (which had no training runs longer than 20 :-) I was ready to face the challenge of limited visibility and to step up to the plate of the mileage. What came as a real surprise was the boogie man factor. Every rustle in the grass or bushes made me wonder, every bend in the trail left me thinking some crazed lunatic would be waiting. Get hold of yourself! I was running a familiar trail and knew these fears were not entirely logical, but they were very real.
The run ended well. My fueling strategy worked perfectly. I never grew overly fatigued. My nerves got to me a bit late when I tripped a couple of times and started playing the "what if" scenarios in my head. The real surprise, the real "take away" from this run was facing down the boogie man fears. Learning to stay in, and appreciate, the moment and push those other thoughts aside. Staying alert, sure, but paranoid, not very beneficial.
Mission accomplished, I think. Guess we won't know until my next night time trail run.
In the meantime, I sit here poised to face down my next set of fears. I'm going to run 45 miles today, on my 45th birthday. It won't be dark, and it won't be trails (mostly dirt road), but that is sure a long, long way. As several friends have pointed out, this goal of running my age should have been something I did years ago!
FACE YOUR FEARS. LIVE YOUR DREAMS!
Press on friends...
First, a little background...
Fresh off of my marathon (on 4/17) I had a great 13 mile trail run at "Poto". It was a relaxed effort with friends and appreciated that my plan to take it a bit easy at the marathon provided the desired result - little interruption in training.
The following weekend had on tap my first ever attempt at a double 20. Friday afternoon called for a 20 mile effort at Pontiac Lake - a fairly technical trail with lots of short steep climbs. It was a "success" in that I completed it. But the execution was uuuuuglly! Stomach issues. Dizziness. Chills. Dead legs. Had a friend not joined me for the second half I wouldn't have made it. My overriding thought at this point was that such trials may well occur on race day, so what are you going to do? I opted to gut it out, and am glad I did.
I enjoyed a good bike ride on Saturday to spin the legs and then arose for an early morning, pre-church, 20 miler on Sunday. This was a dirt road run, quiet, gentle, rolling and it was special. Ran 2 minutes per mile faster, on average, than Friday and simply clicked off the miles. Whamma Jamma.
Ok, here we go - facing the boogie man...
Five days later it was time for the next long run. A 30 mile trail run - at night. This would be my second longest run - EVER, with my only longer run being the 50 mile DWD ultra in 2007 (which had no training runs longer than 20 :-) I was ready to face the challenge of limited visibility and to step up to the plate of the mileage. What came as a real surprise was the boogie man factor. Every rustle in the grass or bushes made me wonder, every bend in the trail left me thinking some crazed lunatic would be waiting. Get hold of yourself! I was running a familiar trail and knew these fears were not entirely logical, but they were very real.
The run ended well. My fueling strategy worked perfectly. I never grew overly fatigued. My nerves got to me a bit late when I tripped a couple of times and started playing the "what if" scenarios in my head. The real surprise, the real "take away" from this run was facing down the boogie man fears. Learning to stay in, and appreciate, the moment and push those other thoughts aside. Staying alert, sure, but paranoid, not very beneficial.
Mission accomplished, I think. Guess we won't know until my next night time trail run.
In the meantime, I sit here poised to face down my next set of fears. I'm going to run 45 miles today, on my 45th birthday. It won't be dark, and it won't be trails (mostly dirt road), but that is sure a long, long way. As several friends have pointed out, this goal of running my age should have been something I did years ago!
FACE YOUR FEARS. LIVE YOUR DREAMS!
Press on friends...
Tuesday, May 24, 2011
Resisting Being One Dimensional
The last several weeks I have been on overload mode. The problem, however, isn't that the workload increased, but my reaction to it had. I hold dearly to the idea that we are to live lives of purpose, and for me that also means being multidimensional. Like most, I have numerous roles and responsibilities. Lest, however, those come across sounding like less than they are, lets call them "gifts" and "opportunities" that we embrace. Husband, father, grandfather, friend, neighbor, coach, employee, employer. I embrace them all. Humbly thank God that He would entrust me with them all. I pray for wisdom, guidance, and perseverance in them all.
At times pressure from any one of these areas, say, the job, can be so intense as to be interpreted as an expectation to become one dimensional - beholden to that alone. Can't let that happen. I love my wife. I love my family. I love the opportunities that running and biking afford me. I especially love the people I meet along the way. I do love my job and strive to be the best steward of those responsibilities, and do appreciate all the benefits that come with it. At the end of the day, however, it needs to be the end of the day. After all, there is a trail calling or a group of cycling friends clicked in and ready to roll, and a family dinner waiting...
I think I said "I" about 37 times in those two paragraphs. I hope, though, that you saw you in there as well. May we all embrace our "gifts" and "opportunities", remembering the truly important, and live life large.
Press On friends!
At times pressure from any one of these areas, say, the job, can be so intense as to be interpreted as an expectation to become one dimensional - beholden to that alone. Can't let that happen. I love my wife. I love my family. I love the opportunities that running and biking afford me. I especially love the people I meet along the way. I do love my job and strive to be the best steward of those responsibilities, and do appreciate all the benefits that come with it. At the end of the day, however, it needs to be the end of the day. After all, there is a trail calling or a group of cycling friends clicked in and ready to roll, and a family dinner waiting...
I think I said "I" about 37 times in those two paragraphs. I hope, though, that you saw you in there as well. May we all embrace our "gifts" and "opportunities", remembering the truly important, and live life large.
Press On friends!
Thursday, April 21, 2011
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...
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.
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.
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...
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| A Mr. Strong? |
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| or Lance's street maybe? |
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| 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.
Monday, April 18, 2011
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:
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:
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| 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! |
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| Pam and Cathie as we prepare to leave the hotel. |
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| Pam sure looks nervous before the race, doesn't she? :-PPP |
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| Hard to get a shot of Ralph without coffee :-) | And what is up with frogs around Toledo? |
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| 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!) |
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| 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 :-) |
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| Ralph and Cathie, soaking it in - another great 1/2 marathon effort for two of my fellow Freedom Striders: |
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| Dalila, Pam and myself enjoying the finish. Dalila's husband Gene behind the camera. |
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| A finish photo that isn't embarrassing :-) |
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| 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! |
Wednesday, April 13, 2011
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
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
Tuesday, April 12, 2011
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".
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".
Monday, April 4, 2011
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.
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.
Monday, March 28, 2011
Conflicting priorities - the road less traveled
With apologies to Robert Frost, two of my roads are diverging and I have chosen to take the one less traveled by, but that has created something of a dilemma.
In less than three weeks now I'll be toeing the line at the Glass City Marathon and am poised to run my fastest marathon in a dozen or more years. To realize that goal, I need to execute the plan which was so carefully crafted some four months ago. This includes an effective taper from here to race day, a gargantuan effort on race day and then a smart recovery period of not less than two weeks.
The other road leads toward that mountaintop I just recently decided to travel toward, the one called the Woodstock 100 mile Ultra Marathon. Sticking to my original marathon plan essentially means 5 weeks out of an already short ultra training plan. A hardcore marathon effort could be a detriment to the ultra plan.
Sorry that I cannot travel both roads, long I sit, considering the options both.
My desire is to make the Ultra about something so much bigger than myself, that the journey would serve to motivate and inspire others to travel their own roads less traveled. The marathon goal is more self-serving, desiring to satisfy more selfish goals. Said that way, it seems easy to suggest I sacrifice the one for good of the greater, nobler goal.
And yet, long I sit...
Daily we are faced with countless decisions. Each one leads us either closer to or further from the goal. A failure to decide is a decision in itself. Lack of goal setting, planning and decision making will lead to a life of default rather than design and destiny.
May we all, like Robert Frosts Traveler, say "I took the one less traveled by, And that has made all the difference".
Press On Friends.
Update: The deal is done. Perhaps I knew all along, in my heart of hearts, that this Ultra is really about something so much bigger than myself. Feels like a destiny moment. For that reason, I must unashamedly, unabashedly pursue such a moment. Something I recently read struck a cord, regarding pre-Ultra races, the author suggested racing such that you are "used, but not used up". That will be my goal on marathon day.
In less than three weeks now I'll be toeing the line at the Glass City Marathon and am poised to run my fastest marathon in a dozen or more years. To realize that goal, I need to execute the plan which was so carefully crafted some four months ago. This includes an effective taper from here to race day, a gargantuan effort on race day and then a smart recovery period of not less than two weeks.
The other road leads toward that mountaintop I just recently decided to travel toward, the one called the Woodstock 100 mile Ultra Marathon. Sticking to my original marathon plan essentially means 5 weeks out of an already short ultra training plan. A hardcore marathon effort could be a detriment to the ultra plan.
Sorry that I cannot travel both roads, long I sit, considering the options both.
My desire is to make the Ultra about something so much bigger than myself, that the journey would serve to motivate and inspire others to travel their own roads less traveled. The marathon goal is more self-serving, desiring to satisfy more selfish goals. Said that way, it seems easy to suggest I sacrifice the one for good of the greater, nobler goal.
And yet, long I sit...
Daily we are faced with countless decisions. Each one leads us either closer to or further from the goal. A failure to decide is a decision in itself. Lack of goal setting, planning and decision making will lead to a life of default rather than design and destiny.
May we all, like Robert Frosts Traveler, say "I took the one less traveled by, And that has made all the difference".
Press On Friends.
Update: The deal is done. Perhaps I knew all along, in my heart of hearts, that this Ultra is really about something so much bigger than myself. Feels like a destiny moment. For that reason, I must unashamedly, unabashedly pursue such a moment. Something I recently read struck a cord, regarding pre-Ultra races, the author suggested racing such that you are "used, but not used up". That will be my goal on marathon day.
Tuesday, March 22, 2011
Never say never!
Years ago, probably more like a couple of decades, I had this awesome poster with a picture of a runner, running in the dark and snow, silhouetted by the light of a lamp post. Superimposed on the poster was the inscription "I used to think people that ran in the rain were nuts, when I started doing that I decided that people that ran marathons were crazy. So here I am, it's five o'clock in the morning, it's snowing, and I'm out here training for a marathon..."
So goes, so very often, the tale of runner turned marathoner.
My wife has always said she would never become a runner (though she has always liked to walk a bit). Eight weeks ago or so, in the early weeks of my own marathon training, she spent some time on the race web site and in what she describes as a moment of weakness, signed up to walk the half-marathon. She has taken to the training program, including an 11 miler last week AND SHE LIKED IT! This weekend she actually got up at 4 a.m. to head to a race with me and walked 8 miles while I ran. Her walking, which used to typically consist of a trip around a block or two, and was as much about an opportunity to hold hands (with me, that is) and talk to the neighbors, has become an honest to goodness fitness pursuit. Who'd have ever thought...
I used to be like that guy in the poster. And then I ran a marathon. And then I did a triathlon. And then Ironman. And then a 50 mile ultra-marathon. So goes the tale of the long distance runner...
The ultra-marathon. Any distance beyond the 26.2 miles of a marathon. For me it is like uncharted territory. A mountain not yet climbed. A question not yet answered. My 50 miler was quite an adventure (check out that story here). Honestly, though I talked afterward about going further someday I wasn't sure I really would - until last week when my wife and I agreed I'd go for the 100 miler at Run Woodstock this September. Never say never...
My wife still says she will never be a runner. However, she is already checking out the other race distances at Woodstock. Never say never.
Perhaps you are sitting on the couch, and where you need to start is with a walk around the block. Why not grab the hand of somebody close and head out the door. Who knows, a whole new world of adventure (and fitness) may be revealed. In any case, be sure to stop back here often - perhaps (hopefully) my journey of discovery may serve as an inspiration for your own.
So goes, so very often, the tale of runner turned marathoner.
My wife has always said she would never become a runner (though she has always liked to walk a bit). Eight weeks ago or so, in the early weeks of my own marathon training, she spent some time on the race web site and in what she describes as a moment of weakness, signed up to walk the half-marathon. She has taken to the training program, including an 11 miler last week AND SHE LIKED IT! This weekend she actually got up at 4 a.m. to head to a race with me and walked 8 miles while I ran. Her walking, which used to typically consist of a trip around a block or two, and was as much about an opportunity to hold hands (with me, that is) and talk to the neighbors, has become an honest to goodness fitness pursuit. Who'd have ever thought...
I used to be like that guy in the poster. And then I ran a marathon. And then I did a triathlon. And then Ironman. And then a 50 mile ultra-marathon. So goes the tale of the long distance runner...
The ultra-marathon. Any distance beyond the 26.2 miles of a marathon. For me it is like uncharted territory. A mountain not yet climbed. A question not yet answered. My 50 miler was quite an adventure (check out that story here). Honestly, though I talked afterward about going further someday I wasn't sure I really would - until last week when my wife and I agreed I'd go for the 100 miler at Run Woodstock this September. Never say never...
My wife still says she will never be a runner. However, she is already checking out the other race distances at Woodstock. Never say never.
Perhaps you are sitting on the couch, and where you need to start is with a walk around the block. Why not grab the hand of somebody close and head out the door. Who knows, a whole new world of adventure (and fitness) may be revealed. In any case, be sure to stop back here often - perhaps (hopefully) my journey of discovery may serve as an inspiration for your own.
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