Site Running

I once had a discussion with a friend about the word "sight seeing".  I was flabbergasted to find out it was not "site seeing" which is the only form of the word that actually makes sense. You are seeing sites. You are not seeing vision. (Yes, I know "sight" also means something worth seeing but "site' just makes so much more sense.)  Nevertheless, the best way I have found to ever actually see a locale is on your feet. Preferably at around an 8 minute per mile pace.

In Chapter 12 of 138,336 Feet of Pure Bliss entitled "This Country is Beautiful" I talk about seeing the country on foot.  To clarify, I also talk about seeing the whole world on foot.  Korea, Italy, the Caribbean.  The more I see, the more I know I have seen so little.

This past weekend I spent sometime in British Columbia. I made my first foray into the province on New Year's Eve last year because my best friend wanted to see some snow (she is from Texas) and I knew Portland wasn't going to get any.

So we hopped a plane to Spokane and picked a random city in Canada to go and play for a day. Cranbrook was our destination and using my uncanny ability to find awesome places to run, I found the Cranbrook Community Forest.  Soft powdery snow and with a temp getting no lower than 18 degrees, it was ideal. (Not to sound old fogey-esque but where in the heck did real winters go? I mean, 18 degrees for Canada in December?! That was sometimes April in Titusville when I grew up! But I digress.)

This time I wanted to take advantage of a rare weekend off and with the weather still nice headed up to points along the coast. Vancouver, Whistler, Victoria, Campbell River and the towns in between were just a few places we hit in Canada. (By the by, holy crap are ferry rides expensive. The two we had to take were about 1/3 of the total expenses for the whole 5 day trip. No wonder people stay put. As an aside, I saw there is a marathon on one of the islands in the Strait of Georgia that requires three ferry rides to get to. Yeah, I'll just by a seaplane, thanks.  Must be cheaper.)

But while the 1400 miles of driving allowed us to see some fantastic sites (thank you very much) it was when we got out of the car and went for little six milers that the true awesomeness showed itself. Granted most of it was planned as exploring for too long just wasn't in the time table, but the nuances of a town or a city are just not seen when you are in a car. Walking takes too darn long.  Being on a bike means you are always about to become fenderfood (trademarked, by the way.)  Running is the perfect blend of safety and speed that allows us to see so much of the world.

It is running that allowed me to check out the Burnaby Lake in suburban Vancouver and learn more about how it is in deed of some serious dredging.

My shoes took me to pay homage to Terry Fox statues in both his childhood home and also where he would have ended his cross-Canada journey if osteosarcoma hadn't taken his life far too soon.

I found an odd bit of art along the Victoria SeaWalk which was hidden from virtually every other view that I would have had if I had not run right next to it.

Once we left BC and headed back to Portland the long way along the Washington Coast, it was oddities like running on a beach in the westernmost zipcode in the contiguous United States that helped break up what would have otherwise been long drives.

After leaving Forks, WA (home of the Twilight saga - I am Team Dane in case you cared to know) and heading to the famous Hole In the Wall we found we could get there and back far faster than the hikers (who looked like they were going on a 7 day tour and not an hour long hike) leaving us more time to go see other things as well.

All in all, obviously a car will get you to places faster and walking will allow you to take everything in more deeply. But nothing quite melds the best of both worlds like a nice jog through the world.

So in just about a month, when I take on my 150 mile Dane To Davenport, it will be a fantastic journey of seeing the Heartland.  From Dane, Wisconsin to Davenport, IA, I will get 150 miles of roads, trails, tracks and paths to take mental pictures of to last me a lifetime. Looking forward to every step!

The Inspiration of Terry Fox

If you don’t know who Terry Fox is—and you are a runner—I want you to Google him right now. Read up on him and then come back. I will wait.  *whistles*  Or click here.

Back already?  OK, good.

Since most of you didn’t do that, I will fill you in briefly. Terry Fox was a young Canadian who was diagnosed with cancer back in the late 1970s. He had to have his left leg removed, but it appeared that he had beaten the disease. He then decided he was going to run the entire length of Canada—on one leg—with the hopes of raising millions of dollars for cancer research. In case you missed that, he planned to run approximately 5,000 miles on one leg. Now 1980, the year Fox took on this challenge, was not exactly the Stone Ages, but running prosthetic from back then were still light years away from what they are today.

Unfortunately, Terry did not finish his run, but not because of being tired or getting injured. Outside of Thunder Bay, Ontario, a coughing fit overtook Terry.  Going to the hospital, Terry soon found out the cancer had returned and was more aggressive than before. He had run 3,339 miles in 142 days (an average of 23.5 miles a day). He wouldn’t run again.

Recently, I have read a few books on Terry. I recently rewatched the ESPN 30 for 30 special on Fox called Into the Wind. (Sidenote: I am unsure if the producers of this film realized how literal the title was. When researching a cross-country run a few years ago, I talked to some noted runners who had done such a thing. I asked why virtually all the of the runs were done west to east. "Setting sun and prevailing winds at your back for 3,000 miles versus the opposite" was one answer.)  It has been nothing short of uplifting to hear what Fox did by overcoming insurmountable difficulties. Even now, more than 30 years after his death, he remains a national hero in Canada.

Terry’s goal was to raise $2 for every Canadian citizen or $44 million. When he was forced to quit his run he had raised about $1.2 million. Nevertheless, over $500 million dollars have been raised in his name, and the Terry Fox Run, which spans numerous regions and countries, is the world’s largest one-day fundraiser for cancer research.

All of this came from a little kid from Winnipeg. While Terry would ultimately succumb to cancer in June of 1981, his spirit lives on. That sounds cliché, but try talking about running to a Canadian and see how long you go before Terry Fox’s name comes up. With good reason, as well.

My point? Never underestimate what one person can do.