Thursday, October 27, 2016

Running While Male

A few days ago I was in Hartford, CT to give a luncheon speech to some wealth managers at TD Bank. I arrived the evening before and got to my hotel ready to go for a little shakeout run.  I had tentatively planned out a route that would take me from my hotel down to the river and along a riverwalk. Never having been to the area I was relying on my skills at being able to look at Google maps and discern what makes for a good route. Having worked in the past designing long-distance running relays, I have actually become quite good at glancing at a map and almost uncannily knowing where I should run for a good trot.

I was a little askew in my planning this time, however, as one of the bridges I planned on crossing did not seem to have a way to get across. The riverwalk path ran a good 50 feet below it. As I saw no stairway to get up, I decided to venture further north before eventually turning around. I figured further south another bridge had to have a way to cross.  Evening light disappears quickly in late October in New England and shortly after 6 p.m. it was as dark as it would be for most of the night.

The temperatures dipped and for a person who enjoys running in cold far more than heat, and having just a few days before still had to endure 94 degrees in my new home of Austin, Texas, I was reveling in this chilly nip. Heading back south along the waterway, I figured out what I thought would be a route which would take me across a different bridge and then back along the northerly route of the riverwalk on the other side of the river.

The path, well-lit and recently paved, was obviously for use by all runners and walkers.  As I
undulated over a small rise, some weeds which needed to be tended to obscured my vision on both sides.  Up and then down I ran, passing within rock tossing distance of some lattice work of stanchions which held up the nearby highway. A railroad lay next to both of them and the lights cast some spooky shadows on my path. Above them all, off in the distance was this mystical blue onion-shaped Russian-dome-looking minaret striding atop some large rectangular building.

I found my way to the busy bridge upon which the Wilbur Cross Highway passed. A dark ramp allowed me to scoot up and on top of it.  I traversed the length of the bridge looking for an egress down to the other side of the river. Suddenly a staircase appeared with at least 10 flights of 6 steps each.  I had my phone with me simply to be able to check where I was in this new area but here I used it to illuminate each corner as I went down flight after flight, hoping not to trip.

At the bottom I crossed under as dense tree cover and a misty gloom setting in. A man in the shadows in the distance stood silently along the river, seemingly fishing. I saw a path that looked like it had just been paved but I knew it did not go where I wanted. In addition, as it was not lit, I couldn't see how long it went off in the distance. Otherwise I may have added some distance just to check it out.

Crossing over a footbridge I was brought right alongside the water's edge. Up ahead a system of street lights lit the path with their white lights piercing the darkness. I had always wondered why orange lights were more prevalent amongst streets until the internet became more widely available and I could find the answer (Answer: orange light is cheaper even though white light makes things much easier to see. *sigh* Of course price over safety reigns.) These lights here reminded me of the beginning of Harry Potter and I expected a wizard to snuff them all out as I ran on by.

After this jaunt through a park, I passed a serious of parked cars with people of both genders occupying them. Some were eating, some listening to music, some were, well, I actually don't know. It seemed like an odd time to be here in an odd place but I am quite sure they thought the same thing of me, this solitary runner out at night.

I looked over and again saw the blue onion of what I later learned was the Colt Armory. It seemed so out of place settled between the other buildings but I can imagine it looks beautiful in the snow at night. I passed by all the cars and went up a small ramp. Up ahead I saw the bridge which would take me back to my hotel.

As I bounded up some stairs, a large man came down the other side. He looked me over and said "Good job" as I passed him.  I gave him a tip of the cap and exhaled a quick "thankyou".  I hung a hard 180 degree turn and almost bumped into a guy wearing a black hooded sweatshirt who I hadn't seen. I felt rather embarrassed given how much I try to think of others when I am in motion and hate being inconsiderate, but he seemed unfazed.

Over the bridge, down some stairs, and finally at my hotel, I stopped my watch.  A crisp 6.5 miles at
a good clip made me feel good to be alive. While I waiting for my Timex to upload my data to Strava wirelessly, I took in the night. Suddenly, I was absolutely thunderstruck:

If I had been a woman, that run would have been absolutely terrifying. Let me explain why.

Not knowing exactly where I was going in a strange town at night. Tall weeds where anyone could have been hidden. Railroad tresses obfuscating both my sight lines and the light. Dark passages. Blind pitch black turns on staircases.  Dead end paths. Passages through trees with no sign of exit. Shadowy figures silently standing next to the river with no face. Random people idling in cars for no particular reason. Large men checking me out. Guys with sweatshirts pulled over their heads on the wrong side of the sidewalk.  All of it was lost on me, a guy, while running.

By no means do I mean women are timid or cannot handle themselves. But, by and large, most violent crime happens to women by men. You don't need to believe me. Just look up any crime statistics. And this run I just did was absolutely fraught with opportunities for a bad guy to take advantage of a nice person.

This is not the first time this thought has occurred to me, either. In fact, I am in the process of creating something which is based specifically on the idea that women runners tend to need an extra layer of security when out for a jog. As such, it has been at the forefront of my mind. However, in spite of that, I still forgot how easy it is for me, a relatively large, relatively fast, male to be able to go out for a run, anywhere I want, at any time of the day, and probably be fine every step of the way.

I am not throwing my gender under the bus and acting like I am the only good guy and girls can love only me.  In addition, there are obviously instances of male on male crime while running (e.g., the absolutely heartbreaking story of Dallas runner attacked by a mentally unstable former Texas A&M football player.) Furthermore, it is not the wild west out there and fortunately even attacks on female runners are rare enough to still be quite shocking. But the fact remains that running while male is something most guys do not even begin to fathom as anything other than safe and secure.

There is no fantastic way to wrap up this article. I have no solution for how to solve violence. I wish crime against all people would simply stop, an idea so quaint and naive it makes me laugh to even type it. I guess I can only hope that someday a day will come in which either gender, of any size, can run down a dark alley or the backwoods and the worst thing that can happen will be you get a side stitch or your iPhone dies.

Until then, be careful out there runners. And women, I am sorry you have to take extra care.

Tuesday, October 18, 2016

How Runners Sabotage Their Own Running

With something like 400 races under my belt, I have learned a great deal how to screw things up. Fortunately, that is how you learn what you should do the next time as well.  

While most of these are based towards the long distance runner, the tenets involved within can benefit any runner of any talent level.  I come back to them often when things don't seem to be working out just right.  Here's hoping they help you, too.

During Training:

Building up mileage too quickly

Easily one of the most frequent errors made by both newbies and experienced runners is ramping up mileage too aggressively. Your body needs to rest and have time to adjust. Sure, when you feel good you want to go from 20 to 30 to 40 to 50 miles week by week but that is a recipe for disaster.  We have all heard about the 10% rule for adding mileage and while that may be a bit conservative, it is not a bad way to start.
Neglecting speed work

Without a doubt if you want to do well at long distance stuff, you have to run long distance.  But there is just something about speed work.  I touch on it here on my article on loving the track. Track workout, and sprints are like weight training. I have often said that long distance running and sprints are even the same sport and that is no knock on sprinting.  It is a powerful, burst of speed akin to hitting the gym but also while running.  Total win-win.

Running recovery runs too fast

As I have beat into the heads of the athletes I coach, recovery runs don't mean just 20 seconds slower per mile.  That's hardly a recovery.  Your body only truly recovers at rest and if you aren't doing that, it is a hole you are digging to even get back to where you were, let alone improve. Recovery runs should be just that: recovery.

Prioritizing a training plan over how your body feels

Another thing I tell my athletes is that when I give them a plan it is a guideline. Sure, I painstakingly craft a schedule tailored to what they should do for that week.  But I also know that life gets in the way and often you just don't feel it.  I often make workouts shorter or longer depending on how I feel that day.  Don't listen to your body and you will end up very unhappy.  Your logbook doesn't care how you feel and will get over the slight.  I promise.

On Race Day

Going out too fast

There is no such thing as time in the bank.  That is a bank from which you will not withdraw without serious penalties. If you are running a marathon you have 26 miles to pick up speed.  Of course it is nice to feel good after months of training and the rush is in you and the blood is pumping. But it feels SO much better to run fast at the end than it ever will at the beginning.

Waiting too long to fuel

As a heavy sweater, no one needs to tell me to drink a lot and often. But many make the mistake of trying to play catch up and by then they are dehydrated. I now there was a lot of hoopla recently about hyponatremia and drinking too much.  However, that is far less common than even the worst of those with fears about it would believe.  Look, you don't need to drink a gallon at each aid station but a swig or two is great.

Also, master the pinch trick and you don't even need to stop running! Simply pinch the paper cup in the middle at the top, make a spout and pour the water down your throat.  Voila!

Not adjusting pace to race-day conditions

Everything can go right in training and fueling and everything else but we have no control over the weather.  It is a tough break if you get to the starting line and the day is not what you want. But you will not win over Mother Nature. If it is too hot, well, I am sorry but a slightly slower time on a planned acceptance is far better than a fast start and a trip to the hospital.

The elements play just as much a part in a good race day as anything else. We can't ignore them no mater how badass we think we are. 

Losing focus

I know it has become beyond acceptable to make races more about the experience and taking selfies and whatnot but if you want to have your best race, then pay attention. You can have wonderful gabby training runs but when you put the bib on, you are there to race. So pay attention to our surroundings, to your body and to how you can make each step propel you forward to your goal.

 Some runners like to break the race into smaller, more mentally manageable sections. I do this all the time with section I run at home. If there are 6 miles left, I think of a 1.5 mile loop I run all the time and think it is only 4 times around that loop. It is all minds games in long distance running and while it is nice to lose yours every once in a while, being in control of it is even better!

Overestimating your fitness

We all like to think that we are putting in hard work and long miles and as such are ready for the task ahead of us.  Sometimes we have and we are.  Other times, we are remembering runs that didn't happen at speeds we didn't run.  It is OK to not be in the shape you are hoping for on race day.  Unlike other sports, there are no timeouts and no teammates to hand off to.  Not every day can be your best. So going in with a clear understanding of where you are fitness-wise on that day is the best way to arrive at the finish line in one piece.  It is better to plan to how up ten minutes slower than think you can hit a time goal, bonk and show up two hours later, bedraggled, exhausted and swearing off the sport entirely.

Here's hoping these tips help you in your own training. Learn from my mistakes which is far better than experiencing them yourself!

Friday, October 7, 2016

Louisiana Marathon Weekend

In early 2015,  I still had never been to Louisiana. Not once. Not for a second.   had studied law in Florence, Italy, ran a marathon (twice) in Seoul, Korea, and went for a jaunt amongst the moai of Easter Island. But after running the Crescent City Classic and then the Louisiana Marathon, I am happy to be heading back to Baton Rouge for the second straight year to once again be part of the Louisiana Marathon festivities. This time I will be taking part in the half-marathon after securing my 77th Boston Qualifying marathon time there this past January. More importantly, I have carved out more time for myself to enjoy the events of the weekend. (Register here!)

This past January I was on a tight schedule. I ran the marathon and had to quickly skedaddle to get to the airport and get home. I missed out on what is truly separating this race weekend from others.  Let's be honest, the racing world is changing for the masses. You can't just have a well-run, well-marked course if you want to attract customers (the people formerly known as "runners.") You have to have bling. You have to have bands.You have to have swag. You have to have something that separates you from the pack. That is where the Louisiana Marathon in Baton Rouge comes out on top.

Let me give you a brief overview of what one can expect.  First ,you have the Finish Fest which has a variety of beverages of the alcoholic variety. They aren't my cup of tea but tons of people enjoy them and apparently the four different Abita beers on tap are well-received.  There are dozens of local food for people to taste many with that cajun flair. Finishing a marathon leaves you with the weirdest cravings and chances are you are going to find what you want here from someone.

The course itself is quite beautiful with a distinct bayou sense, neighborhoods right on top of the Mississippi River, a loud and large support from townsfolk and some fun fans. In fact, one of my favorite most original signs ever was just after 13 miles in the marathon when the sign said "You have [picture of then LSU coach Les Miles] to go then before!"  That was brilliant. I don't care if he got canned. I hope that sign is there again.

It is a forgiving course. It is not easy. It is not hard. But it is just the right amount of differentiation to give you a challenge but also help you out.  Often shaded by large beautiful southern trees, with wide streets shut down for the runners to enjoy.  No shuttling you off to a place where tons of cars and people are in your way.  This race is about you!

With an average 40 degree start temp and 60 degree finish temp, that is about the best you can hope for in this climate change world we live in. With an expo in close proximity to the many wonderful hotels downtown and all of them close to the start/finish line, there is not any real fear of getting caught in traffic on your way to the start.

If you need another, more altruistic reason, think about how hard this area has been hit with storms.  First Katrina a decade ago and then this year with a storm, that because it didn't have a name didn't receive the same amount of media attention. Where do you think your tourist dollars will go further?  In Vegas or NYC or here in the bayou where businesses are trying to rebound, people put their lives back together and communities rebuilding?  So above and beyond all the other reasons you could run in this beautiful area, think about how much good you can do by showing up and throwing a few bucks at local establishments.  Runners like to talk about how much good we can do - well, now here is your chance.

In addition, on top of everything else, I have partnered with the race to even offer you a discount.  If you use "RUNWITHDANE" you will get 15% off your registration for any of the wonderful races. 

So come join me while I run the half-marathon, take in the culture, throw back some calories and enjoy good ole Red Stick this upcoming January.

See you there! 

Friday, September 30, 2016

Quad Cities Half Marathon Recap

A Runner's Ramblings: Volume 11; 14th Edition 
167.7 miles runs in 2016 races
Race: Quad Cities Half Marathon
Place:Moline, IL
Miles from home: 1100
Weather: 70s; humid, sunny


That's about all I can say about my race performance here at the Quad Cities Half Marathon, if you can even call it a performance.

A friend once posted something about how when you toe the line of a race, you should give your all. For the most part I agree. That is what differentiates a race from a run.  I also know that there are certain caveats. In long distance racing, if you know it is simply not your day, there is nothing wrong with mailing it in. The thing about this sport is, unlike other sports like football, or baseball, or other ball sports, there is no downtime. You can't take a play off. You can't milk the timeout. You can't draw a foul and take free throws. If your day sucks, well, guess what pal, it is going to suck nonstop until you cross the finish line. The only question is how you mitigate the suck.

For myself, given that I have Gilbert's Syndrome, (a relatively benign but potentially bad disorder that inhibits recovery from hard exercise - to generalize) I know that if I redline too much, I'm gonna have Trouble. And that starts with "T" and that rhymes with "P" and that stands for "physician, gonna need one soon." So I pick and choose my battles.

I was in town to run this race for the 4th time in 10 years because it is a must-do race.  The course is not particularly beautiful, although it has its moments. The crowds aren't ten deep but they have their spots. The weather is a little volatile but can be fine. But the organizers put on one of the best races in America and for those who are stuck on bling or mountain visages and do not realize what really makes a race tick are all the things you haven't the foggiest CLUE go on behind the scenes, you go with the people that make those things work. That is the Quad Cities Marathon for you.

The last time I ran this race it was part of my Dane to Davenport- a 165 mile stage run over 3 days that tacked on the Quad Cities Marathon after for nearly 200 miles of running. I was happy to be back and just running 13.1 this time. Doing a book signing at he expo, meeting some really salt of the earth people and talking about how ASEA helps me recover was all just icing on the cake.

Posting an APB for a Diet Mountain Dew and having not one but two separate people from the Quad Cities bringing me one at my booth just goes to show you what sort of awesome people live here. (Also, seriously, Mountain Dew, I do more for you than X Games. Hook a brother up.)

I met a slew, a litany, a plethora of fantastic people at this race and knew I would be seeing many of them after the race. As my hotel was so close to the finish, I knew I could quickly shower after my race and head back out to hand out medals. People often praise elites for doing this sort of thing but if I ever have an opportunity, it is something I jump at doing.  It simply warms the heart.

Race Morning:

I got an excellent night of sleep both before the expo and before the race. I was hoteled mere yards from the start courtesy of the awesome RD, Joe Moreno.  Having just moved to Austin, TX, I was still living amongst boxes a week ago. Being a tad more rested than I had been when I ran a 1:22 half in Utah two weeks ago, I was hoping to have a solid performance here on a less forgiving course.

The weather forecast called for some potential thunderstorms. I didn't like that but that at least meant it wouldn't be sunny and hot.  Humid, sure, but the other two would be gone. I woke up, threw open my curtains...and a mostly cloudless sky and warm sunshine penetrated my window.

Eat me, weather.

Honestly, if climate change doesn't bother you for the myriad of reasons it should bother you, at least be selfish and realize how it is ruining so many good racing days. I would move to Barrow Alaska but I just checked and their high the other day was like 49. Even that is too hot.

So I begrudgingly made my way to the start wondering that perhaps I could suck it up, be a man and power through this race.  I got close to the start, saw Will Leer (wait, wow. I thought I recognized him ushering his girlfriend Aisha Praught past my booth the day before when she stopped and looked interested in talking) and readied myself for the howlitzer to start the race.

Away we went.

First Three Miles: 6:45; 6:42; 7:24

The race runs straight down the street, underneath an American flag (that would make Howdy Honda in Texas jealous of its size) and then curls up on a ramp onto the I-74 Bridge. This first mile didn't feel particularly fast so when I ran a 6:45 I wasn't surprised. However, as we ran across the bridge, and a drip of sweat or 17 had already dropped from my short race haircut onto my Julbo sunglasses, I was hoping the downhill would give me a boost. It did. All of three seconds. Consarnit.

I have impeccable memory when it comes to race courses and what happens during them at random spots along the way. Why in the sam hell I always forget about this bugger of a hill before mile three of this course is beyond me. However, the 1:30 pace group leader passed me with a gaggle of runners behind him as we just about crested this hill. I thought that perhaps with the hill behind me I might finally wake up and salvage the day.

To the 10k: 6:50; 7:08; 7:23

After this hill, there is a slight downhill and then another much smaller uphill before a nice screamer of a downhill on 18th street. When it only yielded a 6:50 mile for me, I knew my day was done.  Well, my racing day anyway.  Now what to do with the finally 9.1 miles.

A nice grouping of people had shown up in the neighborhoods we had passed through and as we crossed over an overpass next to The Isle of Capri riverboat casino for a short but cruel hill, there were even a few more people from Iowa out to cheer us on.  By now, any cloud cover we had experienced at all was gone. While I do not do well in heat and humidity, at this point it wasn't so hot or so humid as to explain my lethargy. I just couldn't get my motor running.

We slipped down onto the riverfront and joined a nice bicycle path that I have run virtually every time I have been to the Quad Cities. Fortunately, here the morning sun was on our back. Unfortunately, I ran way way too slow to even be remotely pleased with how this day would go. I just had to run hard enough not to embarrass myself.

Right at the 10k mark I looked over and saw the statue of Bill Rodgers and Joan Samuelson celebrating how they helped put the Bix 7 mile race on the map.  This made me a smile for a bit as Bill is a friend and Joan was kind enough to sign this awesome poster I found of the 1984 Olympics at the World Famous Golf & Silver Pawn Shop in Las Vegas (made famous by the show Pawn Stars on History Channel.) But soon that memory faded and I knew I had 7 more miles to go.

To Mile 10: 7:21; 7:24; 7:28; 7:15

I knew the next four miles were all flat and I just had to keep progressing at this pace and nothing would go wrong. I knew for whatever reason pushing it was not going to happen. But I most assuredly did not wish to go slower.

As we crossed under the bridge which lead to Arsenal Island around mile 8, I could see the race leaders were crossing overhead on their way to mile 10. That was a touch disconcerting for me as I should not already be that far behind. Nevertheless, even if I had been on my "A" game I would have been extremely far behind them. Just not that far! But it was a nice reminder that there is normal, there is faster (me) there is really fast and then there is "Are you human?"

A plethora of signs told runners that those running the half were supposed to stay to the right and I knew the Modern Woodman Stadium was approaching. This was where I ended my Dane to
Davenport and I so wished I was ending my run today here. I had next to nothing left in the tank and it took all I had not to run a 7:30 mile.

We passed this beautiful stadium and headed onto 2nd street where we were shaded from the sun. For the first time all day I felt good. My speed did not increase but it didn't take everything in me to get going. I began to rev my engines a little bit as we approached the bridge I mentioned above. I raced a gentleman to the top, told the guys holding warning signs that "Mats on Bridge are Loose" that they shouldn't make judgment calls on the morals of the mats (ha!) and began to try and build some steam.

The reason for the signs were that a red carpet of mats had been laid down over the metal lattice work of this bridge to keep runners safe.  But they were not completely nailed down or anything and could possibly budge. Picking up my feet and racing for the first time all day (I was making it hard for the guy behind me to pass by picking up the pace) I saw the sign for the tenth mile at the end of the bridge. Thank goodness.  Double digits.

Bringing it home: 7:26; 7:18; 7:13

The last time I was on this island was right before the last six miles of the marathon in 2013.  As I passed by the cemetery on that day I saw a man go down in the distance.  Running the half-marathon this man had a heart attack. Before I could even get to him members of the military post stationed nearby were administering aid. I was extremely happy to learn later that he fully recovered. AS those memories flooded back, I knew when I left the island today I would be almost done. Now all I had to do was get through it.

Arsenal Island is the largest government-owned weapons manufacturing arsenal in the United States.  And we get to run on it.  It is always eerily quiet as spectators are not allowed on the island (I don't think) but the quiet is serene and wonderful.  It also often provides a great deal of shade which was undoubtedly needed today.

After holding off the runner on the bridge, he passed me on the flats here. But when we hit a small incline I passed him back and this time I made it stick.  If you are going to pass someone, do it definitely. Someday I am going to find out why I am not a very good runner on flat courses but it always happens to me in race. Give me miles of flat and watch people pass me. Give me small hills, and I win it all back and then some.

Now, feeling decent for the first time in the whole race, I began to pick up the pace. A few runners came into focus and I knew I had just enough real estate left in the race to get a one or two of them and put them behind me.

Over the last bridge and into a throng of people cheering on both sides I went. Down the last bit of street toward the finishline I was so happy to see I ran. I mercifully crossed in 1:35:01, good enough for 48th place and 4th in my age group.  My friend and announcer Creigh Kelley called me over and we chatted for a bit.  Other than being mildly out of breath, I felt fine. Not sore, not tired, just completely realizing how bad of a day I had just finished. Sometimes there simply is no explanation.

I sauntered over to my hotel and thought about showering and taking a nap. It was still only 9 a.m.  But I knew I would much rather go back outside and cheer on as many people as I could. I could not have been happier that I made that decision.

Back out at the finish, I saw numerous people I had met the previous day and many seemed surprised to see me, let alone the fact I recalled some of the minutia of their life stories. When I am asked what inspires me and I say all people, some people think that is pablum. But truly, seeing people meet their own goals, apropos of their speed, is what really makes me smile. If I am able to share in a small part of that, it is even better.

As I celebrated with some, consoled a few others, and on occasion acting like a wall for some to
simply hang onto lest they fall down in weather which had become warmer and more humid, the disappointment of my own day faded.  I knew it would. Part of the reason I came back out was to salve my wounds with the victory of others.  That is one of the reasons why after running that half marathon two weeks ago in Utah I went to the end of the Wasatch 100.  I wanted to witness the triumph and emotion of people pushing themselves to their limits.  It truly is a feeling I don't think any other sport can generate. You can be happy your football team won the SuperBowl but you have never been there.  Same with the Masters in golf or the World Series.  But anyone can run a 5k and cross the finish, giving all they can.

Then you get up, sign up for another race, and experience it all again.

Tuesday, September 13, 2016

Big Cottonwood Half Marathon Recap

A Runner's Ramblings: Volume 11; 13th Edition 
154.6 miles runs in 2016 races
Race: Big Cottonwood Half Marathon
Place: Salt Lake City, UT
Miles from home: 2797
Weather: 40-50s; dry sunny

I originally scheduled this Revel Big Cottonwood half-marathon race as having a two-fold purpose. First, I wanted to set a new PR in the half-marathon and to do so as a Masters. Second, it was going to be a barometer race for attempting a new PR in the marathon about 6 weeks later.

On my birthday, I ran 40km around a track to celebrate turning 40.  It was a hot day as you can read here.  I crashed post-run, slept in late...and missed the tiny window for registering for the marathon at which I wanted to set a PR. So throw that out the window. Then at the end of July I decided I would be moving to Austin a month later. The majority of August was spent packing and all that was moving-related. I then took a 6 day road trip with my Trump Pinata to make it to Austin. Right before I left, I got a notification that I was off the waitlist for the marathon. There was, however, no way I could get into shape to train the way I wanted to in order to run fast. Long has the day passed in which I just run marathons to collect finishes and medals. When I race 26.2, I am by and large, racing. So no marathon.

Given how tiring moving to Austin was, and then the subsequent unpacking, the chances of a new PR in the half were slim to none. Doesn't mean I still wasn't expecting to do so. I often refuse to let logic or reason cloud my judgment when I get uppity about trying to run fast.

For the first time in a long time, I wasn't working an expo before a race. I cannot tell you how liberating a feeling that was. I might be tired, at elevation, staying with a friend who has cats (which I am allergic to) but I thought not having to expend so much energy the day before a race might just be the boost I needed.

Race morning:

I went to bed at an absolutely unheard of time of 9 p.m. in the hopes of buttressing my potential PR chances. Given I had to be up around 4 a.m. to make it to the bus, that really wasn't even all that early. I slept well, got on one of the glorious luxury buses the Revel company had provided for runners (there were also some regular school buses - I was so happy not to be on one of those) and tried to get in a racing mindset. For some reason the bus driver thought that loud country music should be piped in through the speakers and some other racers felt the need to have their overhead lights on the whole way up the dark canyon. (Some might think it cruel to say that it may have been for last second preening but if you have seen the number of women who cross the finish line in Utah races wearing full faces of makeup, you would know I am in no way exaggerating.)

As we stepped off the buses at 7250 feet above sea level, I felt something I haven't felt in I do not know how long: cold! I could see my breath. Sweet Fancy Moses was I going to get a race day I could race in?! With a temperature that in no way was warmer than 45 degrees, I was in heaven. After a slightly longer than necessary wait in the portapotty line (not the organizer's fault but rather people with no sense of an internal clock and common courtesy) it was off to the start.

Making my way to the front I passed no less than half a dozen runners I either knew or was a social media acquaintance with. It was a pleasant surprise and also a nice little warm addition to my morning. The sky was just beginning to reveal the azure blue which would accompany us the entire day.  But for now we were still in the clutches of nighttime. There was just enough time to line up for a quick and subtle countdown before away we went!

First three miles: 6:09. 6:13, 6:12

The beginning of the race was the everything for me. I wanted to nail a couple of 5:45s to feel good about

race and then cruise into the rest. To say I was a bit disheartened with my first mile of 6:09 would be an understatement. But I know mile markers are not certified and often in races a longer mile here means a shorter mile there. So while I held my pace, and felt like I was running under 6 per mile, I was even more dismayed by the second mile. Was this entire effort going to be over before it began? Was I really that tired and out of shape? When the third mile hit still above what I wanted I began to do a great deal of assessing. I knew these miles were not as downhill as some to come so I just had to hold on.  Perhaps as I woke the body up, reminded it that it could indeed run faster, and take advantage of the downhill, I would get some better times.

To the 10k: 5:39, 5:51, 6:16

That's more like it! In a mile that didn't even feel particularly fast, I was right back in the game. But wanting to make sure this was not the mirage I mentioned before I held my celebration inward. The next mile would reveal if the previous was just an anomaly.  When I went under six minutes per again, I was quite happy. I just needed to keep this downward trend going.

However, right after the 5th mile there was a hairpin of an S-curve that, while still downhill, was banking enough to make one lose momentum. In fact, this entire course, again, while decidedly downhill, had just enough twists and turns in it to actually take away more of the advantage of the down than one would think. Nowhere was it more evident than on this next mile. A product of the turn, I slowed by almost half a minute. Bollocks. This was going to be just one big crapshoot as to what happens the rest of the way. Could I go under 1:20? Could I set a PR?

Interestingly enough, while not official, I ran faster than my official 10k at the 6.2 mile mark. This is a time I also have crushed in two other half marathons as well. My 10k PR, like a lot of my shorter distance PRs, is just asking to be broken as I have aged over the 40-year mark. But I digress.

To mile 10: 6:10, 5:52, 6:07, 6:58

The next few miles began a game of cat and mouse between me and a few runners. It also became a show how even fast(ish) people are unaware, or don't care, about running tangents. As we serpentined (Babou!) our way down the canyon, I would routinely pass and then gap runners who steadfastly stuck to the far outside of each turn. (Incidentally, even running every single tangent possible, my GPS still had me a 13.15 which means these poor people were running far too long. This is not a knock on the race - GPS are not infallible. I am simply saying that they ran further than they needed to.)

Here I also began to lose touch with some runners I had been with since the beginning. I had been in the top 15 or so since the start but I started to fall off the back a little bit. This irked me, and after realizing that if I wanted to run fast, I had to stop thinking and run, I threw down another sub-6 mile. It pleased me greatly even as I could begin to feel the soreness in my quads and a warm spot beginning to form on my right heel. This is the same heel which will blister greatly on many races in which I run downhill. Why just the right heel is beyond me. As such, suffice it to say, I began thinking again. I very much wanted to run another sub-6 mile if for only for my mind. When it was not, it deflated me a bit. I knew this 9th mile was the last one which would contain no uphill or flat. Doing the math I knew I had little to no shot to PR.

As I mentioned above, the weather was perfect. In fact, at times, we even had a slight tailwind. Moreover, as I would see later, we would not even have the sun creep over the mountains and onto our backs until mile 11.5. It was, virtually everything I could want in a race.  I just wasn't going to get it done the way I wanted.

When the last downhill ended, we left the valley and began a small uphill climb to mile 10. I had a weird taste in my mouth and tried to figure out what it was. Then I remembered that by coming down below the pollution level in Salt Lake, we were now smack dab in the middle of the dreaded inversion.  It had never bothered me when I lived here for four years but I could taste it now. When the tenth mile yielded near 7 minutes for the time of running it, my goals were shot. Now I had a disappointing final 3.1 miles to run.  My only goal which remained was to not ruin a good start with a bad finish. But few things suck worse in a race than knowing all of your main goals are gone but you still have to run out the string.

Onward toward the finish. 6:53, 6:44, 6:50, :42

I then just got passed by two women running in tandem and chatting up a storm. Color me impressed. Not long after another woman passed me. I was fairly certain I was out of the top 20 now. Various random goals out of the way, I began calculating what I might run. I was hoping it would still be in the 1:21 range but didn't have much to base that on. I figured 6:30s the rest of the way were within my wheelhouse. But then I ran a 6:53 for the 11th mile. I knew that right after mile 11 there was a short, but blisteringly steep, downhill that I could throw my weight behind to try and salvaged the remaining distance. When I crossed the next mile marker at 6:44, in spite of giving it all I had, I just sorta sighed and called it a day.

The sun was out on a beautiful day and as we ran down the long straightaway to the finish, we could see the arch way in the distance. In fact, well over half of a mile away I could hear the announcer. I heard him announce the women's overall winner, in the time I was hoping to run. Then I heard the 1:20 barrier go by. A man and a woman passed me with less than half of a mile to go. I had no response. My PR barrier passed from the announcer's voice and I still had a third of a mile to go. I kept chugging along.

One of my best friends, Chris (aka Vanilla Bear) and his wife Kathy Jo (aka Mrs. Bear) and their baby Calvin (T-Minus 8 days old and ready to come out) were cheering me on at the finish. I unfortunately did not hear them as I was in the pain cave at this point. Nevertheless, I crossed under the arch for my 94th lifetime half-marathon in a time of 1:22:32.  It was my third fastest half-marathon ever. I finished 27th overall and was lucky enough to take 3rd Masters as well.

As I was running this race and knowing I would not realistically be going for a PR, I spent a little more time evaluating it from an organizer's perspective. I had to think about things which I would improve or change.  Right away that tells me a race is well run.The race provided not only free pictures but had them up on the website 48 hours after the race was done. The swag in the bag was very nice with gloves, a great shirt, a mylar blanket and a beanie to wear if you were cold at the start. There was a timing mat at mile 4.5 and mile 10 which means in theory the runners could set new PRs at those distances if they were certified. I have run a fair amount of these downhill races and have always told the organizers that if they threw a mat down at 5k, 10k, 15k and ten miles they could advertise how their race could provide so many chances to set PRs.

I did not stay around for the finish line festivities but if they were anything like the rest of the race I am sure they were top notch. I was however very proud that one of the athletes that I coach ran a 7 minute personal best in the half, so kudos to Jessica for that! Person after person seemed to be streaming in with a smile on their face and a new R in their pocket. Will downhill running help assist you in running faster?  Of course, but you have to take it.  No one just gives it to you.

I have had very good fortunate in running races that were put together well and most of that stems from having a pretty good idea which races to run. So if it seems as if many I run get top marks, that is why.  It is called having worked in the business in every aspect from runner to course designed to race director and everything in between.  As such, I can definitely see me running more races put on by Revel in the future.  They specialize in this downhill variety so I would highly suggest learning how to run downhill, practice and then celebrate at the end with your buddies with a big fat PR!

As for me, I am back to Austin where I hope the heat and humidity will help make the remainder of my races this year an breeze, even if I don't get the perfect weather I did in Salt Lake City.

Monday, August 29, 2016

Rabbit Apparel Review

I met some runners at the Santa Barbara Marathon a few years ago. When I saw they were starting an apparel company on Kickstarter, I was interested and chipped in a few bucks. When they got their gear up and running, I said I would be happy to product test it for them. So that is what I did.

The company is called Rabbit and was created by Monica and Jill. You can read their creation story here. Well, not their creation story. (I don't think that is on the website but boy that would be interesting!) Rather, the above links to where the apparel called Rabbit had its start.

For the purposes of this review, I said I was most interested in their singlet top and their shorty-shorts.  I have nice quads and I want to show them off. Sue me. Actually, I just prefer to be wearing as little as possible when I run.  I sweat like it is my job and if I can air this hunkahunk of burning love out, it is best for all involved, including my own finishing time.

First off was the sleeveless shirt appropriately named "Welcome to The Gun Show."  From their website: "Made with our rabbitMESH fabric. rabbitMESH is a perforated tight-mesh fabric that evokes the spirit of our patronus: the rabbit. This rabbit-perforated mesh is lightweight, breathable, cling free, sag resistant, and scratch and chafe-free."  I will definitely be the judge of "breathable."

With Portland experiencing a resurgent summer of hotness after a nice break, it would be a great time to test out all the apparel. The singlet preformed rather admirably, doing a good job of wicking away the sweat. I noticed the little holes in the shirt were actually in the shape of the company's logo, a rabbit. That was pretty neat. It also did its job. There is really not much one can say about a sleeveless running top.  Basically, if you aren't thinking about it, that means it is working. It was not meant to carry a gel, it is not fancy, it is, I feel, made to be raced in. So I gave it a go in a half-marathon and found it worked just fine. Kudos all the way around as I never thought about it once during the runs or the race.

More important, at least to me, were the shorts. I am always looking for some good shorts, given the whole aforementioned sweat thing. I have had more chafing problems than I need to go into, even with proper lubing and other precautions. As such, the "Daisy Dukes" of the Rabbit brand were going to be put to the test.

I tested them out on a couple of runs, varying both the length of the run and the type (e.g, sprints, hill work, etc, in order to see how they performed when the legs were doing different ranges of motion.)  The short version is I like them. Plus they look snazzy. Appearance is not something I normally care about but if two pairs of shorts perform the same and one is ugly as sin, of course I will go with the one which looks a tad better. The best way to see if something works is not just in training runs but in  race. So, off to the testing grounds I went with the shorts in tow.

Taking on the trail 15k that is the River Valley Run, I knew with the complete changes in terrain, river crossings, and out and out sprints on pavement, I would see how these shorts really worked when not in a controlled environment. At the end of the race, I can say I have nothing but good things to talk about when it comes to the shorts. While I normally like the shorter legs and open cut on the sides, sometimes shorts do not provide enough coverage or support for manparts. As good ole Sweet Brown says, ain't nobody got time for that.

However fortunately for all in viewing distance, these shorts effectively hid my thunder. Moreover, they kept everything in place, provide a strong, sturdy fabric that survived getting hit by a branch or two with no tears. An ample zipped pocket on the pack was a nice surprise as well, especially since, like the singlet, these shorts feel like they are made for racing, not jogging. An internal front pouch pocket felt neither like it would bunch nor was it in the way.

Given my sweat glands, it is hard for me to tell how well they worked with wicking, really. Plus, the real test of race day was so disgustingly hot and humid (broke records for that day in Maryland) that nothing was going to not be drenched. But, on the flipside, zero chafing from that day or any of my previous runs. That, my friends, is a real winner in Dane's book.

I did not get a chance to try out any of the other apparel but if I do, I will be sure to let you know how it works.  But given the top notch quality of these two samples, I am sure it would receive high marks as well.

Wednesday, August 24, 2016

River Valley Run 15k Recap

A Runner's Ramblings: Volume 11; 12th Edition 
141.5 miles runs in 2016 races
Race: River Valley Run 15k Recap
Place: Manchester, MD
Miles from home: 2797
Weather: 80s; humid; sunny

As we live through month after month of "This is the hottest April, May, June, July ever!", as a runner it is starting to get a little old. As one who does decidedly poorly in races where it is sunny, or humid, it is downright dangerous. So when the temperature for the day of the River Valley Run 15k called for the highest temperature ever in recorded history for that date in the area, I knew I was not going to have a good day.

Much to the directors of this race's credit, they went above and beyond to be as prepared as possible. First, they moved the start of the race up 45 minutes. Then, I received an email, a text and then an automated phone call telling me of the changes. That, my friends, is how you run a race!

I knew the race itself would be very challenging, regardless of the weather. With large hills to climb, sometimes over treacherous footing, with switchbacks and river crossings, this race would be tough for even a seasoned trail runner. It was also a cupless race which is often done to be more environmentally-friendly.  However, in my own personal preference, if I am paying for a race, I don't want to carry my own liquids. Having said that, in a race such as this, even if cups were provided, you probably should have a handheld with you at least, especially if the weather gets nasty.

Race Morning:

As I mentioned, the race was moved up a bit to accommodate the weather. Then a downed powerline made entrance in to the secluded campground tougher for most. I had arrived much earlier than normal in order to set up my book signing at the post-race festivities and to talk to runners about ASEA. As such, I missed all of that crowdedness and was able, for the most part, to stay cool.  I knew that would not last.

First 3 Miles:

I had once entertained some designs on a top-5 finish in this race. While trail running is hardly my forte, I thought I had a decent shot. When the weather changed, so did my entire outlook for the race. I decided I would be happy with a top 20 finish. With my "A" race of the year coming up next month where I attempt a new half-marathon PR, I wasn't going to jeopardize that with a fall and broken bones (or dehydration and kidney failure) here. As such, when the race started, I was content to simply see how it all unfolded.

That said, the first half of a mile was run out of the starting gates and down the road through
camp. I might not want to run too hard but on what might be the only portion of the race where it suits my strengths, I wasn't going to lollygag. I shot out and was in 5th place. Then we turned, climbed a rocky road, turning again to run in a field up a hill and I said enough of that. Less than four minutes into the race and the first two drops of sweat had already made their way down my head and plopped right onto my Julbo sunglasses. Today was going to get messy.

After the first mile of climb, we dropped through some trail section with some slight difficulty in footing issues. Then we scrambled our way through what appeared to be a campsite, replete with teepees and wigwams. I had ceded a few spots overall in the climb, but as I am wont to do, gained them back on the downhills. I will never cease to be amazed how good some runners are at downhills (me) and how poorly they are at uphills (me.)

A half mile of flat lead us to the second mile and another scalable hill. I was as drenched in sweat at this point as if I had taken part in the ice bucket challenge. Here I decided that I was definitely going to be walking the uphill portions. Fortunately, the course was shaded for the vast majority of the time, otherwise I might have actually died. Here, as I walked up this hill, I could feel the pulsating heat ripping out of my chest, even though I was wearing a white singlet and in the shade. Oy.

A series of small hills, cut through a cornfield gave all a feeling of a solitude, as twists and turns often kept runners just a few feet ahead of you out if sight briefly.  As we approached the third mile, an aid station beckoned. I had already drank well over half of my 20 ounce Camelbak handheld. Double oy.

To Mile 6:

As we did a small loop to head back to the aid station I could see some runners were already way further ahead of me than I would have liked. When we would hit a downhill, I would carefully pick my way through the roots and rocks, all while giving a wide berth to the runners I was passing. Simultaneously, I would be keep an eye open for my footing, lest I become part of the trail.

At the aid station, I found I had screwed the top of my water bottle too tightly to open and wasted precious seconds fumbling with it using my drenched hands. A volunteer offered to allow me to use the tail end of her shirt and I gladly accepted. Bottle open, I filled it with a nice cool drink of some nature and took of again. As more than a few people had passed me during this section I was anxious to make up the distance. With a nice downhill in front of me, I did just that.

A little after 4 miles we had our first stream crossing. This also marked the second time in the race runners could choose between an easier but longer course or a shorter but harder section.  Ever since I chose the easier portion of the Dipsea Race last year, I have decided to always go for harder. I don't think the time saved on the easier sections makes up for how much longer they are. Plus, sweet fancy Mfoses did I need to run through some hopefully cool water.

For the next mile we ran, alongside Gunpowder Falls or the "crick" as people in this area (and my hometown in Pennsylvania) would call it. The footing was wonderful and the terrain flat. However, I knew a hill was coming. We passed underneath a car dealership-sized US flag and I knew that meant we were close to the starting point. That also meant it would be time to climb. Up the switchbacks I mentioned above we went and my heart began pounded with the heat of a thousand suns. As we neared the top, I took off my shirt and wrung it out like a dishcloth. I knew it would become saturated once again but hoped the action would cause for some semblance of cooling.

Down a field we went, with the finish line off in the distance mocking us. A fresh swatch of path had been mowed for runners but on a very steep path, gave us little chance of running fast. A downpour the night before, and the 8000% humidity, had made everything slick. I wasn't going to test my luck as I slowed even on the downhill section. We crossed the road we passed in the beginning (about a tenth of a mile south) and approached what I thought was the last big hill.


Bringing it Home:

As I employed my hill walking strategy, I could hear one or two runners behind me. I stepped to the side on one of the wider sections waiting for them to pass me, but none took the chance. I guess their run wasn't much faster than my walk. 

Over the next mile I had a female on my heels named Maria who was not slow with an encouraging word. She would pass me as I walked on the undulating hills and then I would pass her on the downside. Each time she would say "come on!" as she passed me and I would stay silent as I passed her. Mostly because I assumed she had her race dialed in, somewhat because I didn't have much energy to spare for words.

I saw fellow runner and Facebook friend Matthew Burdette coming back at me on one steep section of downhill and I knew there must be a turnaround up somewhere close. Matthew had introduced himself to me at the start of the race which I appreciated. As most people on race day look a bit different, with sunglasses and hats and facial hair or whatever, it is always nice for them to notice me. I've been the same for years: tallish, ears that stick out, and usually trying to sleep in a few more minutes before the race. We exchanged pleasantries here at mile seven and I steadied myself for the climb up this monster on the way back.

As I powerwalked, Maria passed me again. Half a mile later I passed her. Another dip in the refreshingly cool Gunpowder Falls cleaned off my Karhu Flow 6s which performed admirably on a course for which they were definitely not designed (review of those soon.)

Hopping up the other side, I passed another runner who I had not even seen in front of me. I was feeling good. Another mile to go and this would be all over. Wait. Why are we climbing again? Drat.

Determined to run this hill I took off up the mossy covered stones. A brief respite was given as we passed over what appeared to be the cement foundation of a home but climbing after that is what we did. And again Maria passed me. Good thing I enjoyed looking at her behind as I didn't have a choice. We passed an aid station which, if it had been closer to the path I would have taken part in.  But to go ten yards out of my way at this juncture was not something I wanted to do. When they shouted encouragement of "Just a mile to go!" I almost corrected them. Then I remembered that this was a nine point THREE mile race. Crap.

Fortunately, the last and final downhill appeared. I loped down it like a person very happy to be done and passed Maria. We hit the pavement and I was so excited to be able to run again.  I picked up the pace running the fastest pace in over an hour. Almost immediately my body surged with heat. I felt like I had been tossed into a slow roaster. Maria appeared at my side and said "Let's sprint!" I did a millisecond assessment and realized that any acceleration on my part would not go over well with my whole plan of "Not Dying Today." I said "Go ahead, it's all yours!"  Maria eased ahead of me by five seconds as I dodged some of the other runners in the other distances coming home in 25th place in a time of 1:26:00 on the nose - a full 10-15 minutes slower than I thought it would take.

I headed to pick up my neat fisher's medal and then sat down in the shade at a medical tent. I was
given (as were all) an ice cold soaking wet towel and few things have felt better in my life. A medical staff person asked me if I was OK to which I replied in the affirmative. She handed me a plastic cup with the logo on the race on it filled with ice cold water. That even topped the towel.Walking through the finish, I saw Maria and congratulated her on her awesome finish. I told her I would love to talk more but I had to head over to my table.

I toweled off with the provisions I had brought and sat down to cool down and get ready to sign books. Over the next hour or so I met a dozen or so people and shared some great stories with them as we all expressed amazement at how tough the course was and how hot the day had turned out.  Maria did show up and said "I didn't know I was running with the guy who ran 52 Marathons in 52 Weekends!" I told her, "Actually, you beat the guy who ran 52 Marathons in 52 Weekends!" I think that made her day.

The race was put together, from top to bottom, like a well-oiled machine. It was assuredly difficult even in the best of weather but from the perspective of doing all the things right with regards to design and execution, the race organizers barely missed a step. Without a doubt, you should put this race on your schedule in 2017.

Pray to whomever you pray to that the weather is cooler.

Wednesday, August 17, 2016

Emotion Over Logic in Rio

This is not going to be a very popular article, I am assuming.

Abbey D’Agostino shouldn't be allowed to compete in the 5000m final.

Caster Semenya shouldn't be allowed to compete at all.

(N.B. I am open to any new information with regards to any of the points I have stated and totally reserve the right to change my mind when presented with it.  Presently, however, I have heard nothing that would make me change my stance.)

Seven years ago I first wrote about Caster Semenya. My feelings remain the same with regards to her plight as a human being dealing with the complexities of her genetic make-up. I cannot imagine going through that in anonymity, let alone on the world stage. However, with a testosterone level three times higher than what is allowed by Olympic standards for female competitors, there is simply no way she should be allowed to compete. (I would like to nip in the bud any further "But some basketball players are taller!" or "Michael Phelps has longer arms than anyone not a squid!" arguments. These, and multitude of other arguments of the like, fall short in so much that none of their traits have been ruled outside the bounds of fair play. A line must be drawn somewhere in determining the difference between the genders with regards to sport and it was drawn here using a extremely wide margin of testosterone which can be allowed. What margin? Women could compete only if their testosterone levels were below 10 nanomoles per liter — a cutoff devised by sampling woman athletes with polycystic ovary syndrome (a condition associated with elevated testosterone levels) and adding five standard deviations to it. )

One of the feel good moments of this finals was the aftermath of the collision between Abbey D’Agostino and Nikki Hamblin in the 5000m women's semi-final. After a relatively innocuous collision turned into a fall, which turned into something much worse, D’Agostino  turned ot help Hamblin up  After getting Hamblin going, she herself collapsed, in obvious agony. Watching the race, I told my friend there was no doubt D’Agostino tore her ACL. (Ends up, she did just that. Drats.)  Somehow, perhaps not very intelligently, she finished the last bit of the race, hobbling along. Eventually needing a wheelchair to even leave the track, D'Agostino was an inspiration and her touching moment with Hamblin with live on forever.

But like the buzzkill that has to point out there was definitely room for Jack on the floating door with Rose in Titanic, I have to dampen this happiness by saying there is zero reason why D’Agostino and Hamblin should be allowed to run in the 5000m final. A protest was filed shortly after the race and both were granted entry. I have yet to see a single reason why that protest was granted.

Earlier in the Olympics, a swimmer false-started in a semifinal which is an automatic disqualification. However, judges apparently decided that the swimming pool area had been too noisy and gave the swimmer a reprieve. Now, we can argue whether that was a little too lenient or not, but the fact remains they gave a reason for their decision. With D’Agostino, Hamblin and Semenya, it seems to be without reason. It appears to be just about not wanting to cause problems or alternatively to make a good story even better. So much has gone wrong in Rio with jello water and Ryan Lochte maybe faking a robbery and cyclists nearly dying (not to mention Zika) that it feels like this is all a diversion. "Look over here! This is good! We are the good people letting good stuff happen!"

Anyone who knows me is aware I have fought for LGBTQ rights for a long time. Any assertion I would be against Semenya for that reason would be without merit.  However, I was recently talking with a former Olympian swimmer about doping when these issues with all three of the above cases came up. We both feel that it is in no way mutually exclusive to grant Semenya any and all rights as a woman and also say, given what is in her blood and DNA, she simply cannot compete as a female in the Olympics. There are standards that are strictly adhered to with regards to what can be allowed in your blood and Semenya is not just a teensy bit over, but three times the allowable limit. But in a climate where many (rightfully so) are trying to make up for the past injustices to LGBTQ people, allowing Semenya to compete is not the right way.

With D’Agostino and Hamblin, nothing tore at my heart strings more than watching D’Agostino fall, and rather than get up and continue running, stopping and trying to get Hamblin to join her. Time and time again the sport of running and its competitors show heart and compassion even on this the biggest of high stakes stages, often lacking in every day life. As a runner and a track and field fan, I obviously want the US to do well in their events. However, the closest I have seen for why D'Agostino was allowed to continue was "for her efforts and under the circumstances." Well, unfortunately, that's not even close to being specific enough.

Of course, now it is moo point (like a cow's opinion) as D'Agostino cannot run. Hamblin still can however. It will be very interesting to see how she fares and I undoubtedly wish her the best. But, in these sports of time (running and swimming, especially) where there are strict rules we must follow, some times we just have to live with the fact that not everything is going to go as scripted. What makes these games so excited, what makes race so fun to watch, is that even if you are 99% sure something is going to happen, it still has to actually happen. If the most talented and best athletes always won, there would be very little reason to watch. There is drama. There is uncertainty.

And there are rules. Which should be followed.

Wednesday, August 10, 2016

Hood to Coast Homeless Problem

The vaunted and venerable Hood To Coast Relay (which I was lucky to be part of in 2014) has itself a bit of a homeless problem. No, the race itself is not worried about losing its housing but rather Portland's homeless problem is spilling over onto the race course causing a bit of consternation.

A section of town in Portland called the Springwater Corridor Trail will be detoured around to avoid
dealing with an enormous homeless encampment in an area not far from where I live. Given the fact that many people will be running through this section alone at night, this is a wise decision on the HTC's part. This decision is byproduct of the unfortunate homeless problem that Portland finds itself in. Some have stated that it is an insult to the homeless here as they haven't posed any real threat to anyone in Portland. Personally, I couldn't disagree more.

For clarity's sake, I am not saying that the homeless in and of themselves are a problem.  I have given various speeches and interacted with homeless in a variety of ways, including a run and talk with a few Back on My Feet organizational chapters in the U.S.Often people fall on tough times, slip between the cracks, and need a helping hand. In fact, the 2008 economic crash showed how much of America is about two paychecks away from being homeless.

Unfortunately, however, I have firsthand knowledge of some of the homeless here in Portland. Once, while running in broad daylight around Portland's waterfront, I was attacked by a homeless person. Without going into much detail, let me attest I was able to fend off the attacker, but I was also relatively unsurprised it happened. I love Portland and its liberal ways but its legalization of marijuana, extremely lax drug enforcement (have seen many homeless lighting up crack pipes in broad daylight) and almost a brazen attitude from encampments of homeless have given almost a "try and move me" attitude amongst many of the homeless here. They crowd public areas, befoul public restrooms and, as is the main problem, set up the most elaborate shanty-towns in highly-trafficked areas.  I am a fairly self-assured, large-than-average fella and even I get my hackles raised.  I can't imagine what, say, a slighter female must feel like in some of the areas.

A few years ago I went to cheer on runners around 1 a.m. along that trail because, well, I am a nightowl and I like to support runners. On numerous occasions, in spite of the fact I sat with a flashlight on, I surprised more than a few runners who were too lost in their own thoughts (some with headphones on.) Given this lack of general unawareness, it is definitely best that all runners avoid this section. Locals have reported habitual drug use, trash left everywhere and in some cases, people who refuse to leave areas where generosity has been shown to them.

There is a systemic problem in Portland that my wee little website is hardly going to fix.  But since my first day of living here, I have always been confounded by the laissez-faire attitude to those who habitually are breaking the law. When I get a ticket for running a yellow light at 1 a.m. five blocks from my home yet squatters and homeless by choice (what I call those who seem homeless but are charging their iPhones at plugs around town) seem to skate by with no repercussions, it is a tad maddening. My normally wonderful view from my own window often is interrupted by some vagrant taking a pee in a parking lot, smoking substances, and generally not caring about not being belligerent. When I move from Portland in a little more than two weeks, that will not be one of the fond memories I take with me.

The Portland police have a planned sweep just a few days after the race. Why, with 12,000 runners coming through the area, for one of the most iconic races in North America, they can't do that sweep beforehand is beyond me. Furthermore, actions taken by politicians have seemed to do little to help the problem and are often head-scratching. Moreover, the fact it has gotten so bad in the first place in a blight on an otherwise stellar city.

One can only hope that this inconvenience to a high profile event will help solve this unsettling problem. Runners, the general public, and the homeless in need of help all deserve better.

Tuesday, August 2, 2016

Running Around the World

As of Monday August 1, 2016, I have run 24,854.79 miles since I started keeping track on January 1st, 2006. I know I have run a few thousand more miles before I began meticulously marking down the data on that first day of the year when I ran 52 Marathons in one year. However, that number is a certainty given the ridiculousness of my overly-detailed spreadsheet. But why is that total of any note? Because, sometime in the next week, I will surpass 24,901 miles which is how many miles it is around the Earth's circumference.  I will have run around the world.

Many have run much, much further. A guy who lives a few miles away has already run 2700 miles this year. I will be luck to run that many miles for the entirety of 2016. But few have gotten more out of their miles than I have. Or more accurately, my miles have gotten me to where I am and I am quite happy with that.

I have run in all 50 states. I have run a marathon distance around a cruise ship. I have run on Easter Island. I have run on the ocean floor. But most importantly, none of those were runs done solely to
cross an item off of a list. For example, I still haven't run a marathon in North Carolina. I haven't run a single foot in Africa. In fact, I've hardly raced in my own hometown. Running hasn't been a means to an end for me. It hasn't been about collecting as many medals as possible. It has always been about the journey. Cliche as it sounds, I often get as much enjoyment from a simple hard-run workout on a random Tuesday in October than I do a new personal best in a race. This doesn't mean I don't cherish those PRs. It also doesn't mean I don't care about racing hard. I most assuredly do. What it means is that I know how fleeting a good day in running can be and how lucky one must be to get it. So, however it comes, in whatever form, is something I cherish.

I have learned so much from running but nothing more poignant than the fact that there is so much I don't know. I am not just talking about the sport. I am talking about the world. Its people. Languages. Customs. Viewpoints. Running has opened my eyes to so much. Only when I realized how much it has allowed me to see and experience have I yearned a bit to maybe see it in a more hurried fashion. But I know I will never see it all and hurrying through in order to somehow experience "more" will just mean I will miss things in the present.

Milestones are nice, however.  Even if you sometimes force them like running 40 km on your 40th birthday when you should have stopped 5km before that. That said, I am sure that 24,901st mile will come in some random nondescript place on the corner of Whatever Ave and Who Cares Street while I
wait for some moron playing Pokemon to look up from his phone and get out of the way. In fact, if it weren't for some random article about the Earth I read recently, I might have even forgotten that this mileage total was rapidly approaching. It would have passed, unbeknownst to me. But the miles would still have been run. And, as I mentioned before, I have already run past that magical barrier anyway, probably about three or four years ago.

Which simply goes to show you how even when you aren't paying attention, you can still be having a great deal of fun and experiencing even more than you ever thought possible.

Here's to another trip around the globe.  Hope to see you somewhere on the trip.