Niagara Falls Marathon Recap - Sort of

For those who have run a 5k or a 10k and have ventured into running a half-marathon, the question becomes one of whether they can run a marathon and how hard it can be to do so.  The answer, as with everything in running, depends.  But I can tell you what is harder than running a marathon – not running one you really want to do.

As I sat at the Niagara Falls Marathon expo, next to running legends Kathrine Switzer and Roger Robinson, the intelligent side of me which said that because of my aching Achilles tendon, not running was the wisest thing I could do began to get pushed out by the side of me that sorely ached to run. My plan for this fall was to have two attempts at setting a new personal best, one at the St. George Marathon and if that did not go well, to try here in Niagara.  When I saw St. George was not going well in the first 1/3 of the race, I pulled back and eased into the finish. Then the weekend before Niagara, while running two marathons in one weekend, my Achilles reared its ugly head and put the kibosh not only on the plans for that weekend but for this one in Niagara as well.

I am often asked if I have had a running injury.  Again, the answer to that question is “It depends.”  I am pretty certain I could run a half-marathon right now.  I might be able to slog through the full 26.2 miles as well.  But if I were to do so, it would undoubtedly be far slower than I would like it to be.  So, is that an injury?  What I do know is that if I pushed through the pain and did not heed the intelligent side of things, I am more than positive I would have an injury that none would have to bicker about the definition of.

So, on the 5-year anniversary of the first time I ever ran a sub-3 hour marathon, I decided I would be doing no racing. This decision was made with a considerable heavy heart. This race has always been one of my top three favorite races and for good reason.  When I was running the 52 Marathons in 52 consecutive weekends back in 2006, there were a great deal of factors that made it so special. Had someone run a certified weekend every year for one calendar year before? I am sure they have but the number would be very small.  That has to do a great deal with the fact that there were not as many marathons to fit the calendar say 20 years ago.  In order to fill the year there would be a lot of 26.2 mile “runs” to fill the gaps. But, and what is most important, *I* had never done it before.  That is really all that matters. 

The fact that I was working full-time, was not sponsored and had just a handful of marathons under my belt when I took on the task is why the task was impressive. I was not a runner with All-American status and past accolades checking off a run every weekend knowing that I could run much faster. I was giving about as much as my talent and experience level could handle, week in and week out.

Which is why the Niagara Falls Marathon was so special to me.

Hartford and Amica Marathon recaps

A Runner's Ramblings: Volume 6; 36th Edition 
527.7 miles raced, 7480 meters swam and 202.3 miles biked in 2011
Race: Hartford Marathon
Place: Hartford, CT 
Miles from home:  2270 miles
Weather: 60s; bright sunshine

A Runner's Ramblings: Volume 6; 37th Edition 
553.9 miles raced, 7480 meters swam and 202.3 miles biked in 2011
Race: Amica Marathon
Place: Newport, RI 
Miles from home:  2339 miles
Weather: 60s; bright sunshine; wind

I am writing these two recaps as one as they really do belong together.  When I began mapping out this year in 2010, I planned this as my attempt to try and do a sub-3 hour race on back-to-back weekends.  I also planned for St. George Marathon to be a PR attempt and a variety of other things to happen, if at all possible.  At the Fox Valley Final Fall 20 a few weeks ago I spoke with an older runner who said he never really plans to have a good day or bad day, he just goes out on race day and gives it what he has.  I admire that quality and when you are only doing a few races a year that is something which can be done more easily.  If you are not going to try for a PR in this race, well, chances are it will be one of the other two or so you are doing.  I am not, however, afforded that luxury.  In addition, as I think it smacks of both dishonesty and cowardice to not state your goals ahead of time and instead simply say that whatever the result was your intention, I know I have to let others know what I want to do- even if there is little shot for it.

That was indeed the case here in this double weekend. While I have had a great year of racing with new personal bests in shorter distances races, all distances of triathlon and sundry other events, the past few months have been quite exhausting. No need to get into it all but things completely outside of running (and for the most part no one else's business) have drained me. So while I can be realistic with myself in knowing what may or may not happen, I still like to stick with my stated goals. Which brought me to the starting line of the Hartford Marathon.

I had tried one back-to-back weekend before at the Mississippi Blues and First Light Marathons in January of last year. In preparation for my upcoming 202 mile running of the American Odyssey Relay in April of 2010 I had, on New Year's Eve, ran for 6 hours straight around the 1.5 mile loop in Liberty Park across the street from my home in Salt Lake City. Then one week later I proceeded to run a 2:59/3:17 at this back to backer in 16 degree weather and only the second and third times I can ever recall wearing tights in a race. It was darn cold.  I had no business running those speeds but it happened, proving my theory that one simply has to get to the starting line to see what the day will hold for you.

The second day's 3:17 has been even harder than it sounded because I was trying to run exactly a 3:17.  Even when I had the urge to run a tad faster, I had to keep it in check.  I am pretty sure I had a sub 3:10 on that day but definitely not a sub-3.  So on days which seemed to be much better weather-wise forecasted for this weekend, I was hoping to get it done here in New England.

However, when things went sour at the St. George Marathon two weeks ago, instead of being macho and pushing through in a futile attempt to salvage a still-fast-but-not-PR time, I tried to focus instead on a quick recovery for this double. I knew it would be hard  to get sub-3 on consecutive days but if the outcome was known, what would the point be. Running a time that is easy for me and then declaring it to be something special is insipid. That is one reason why I been more impressed by those who are giving as much of their effort as possible, regardless of what the time is on the clock. So after a couple of wonderful days at the Hartford Marathon expo I was ready to take on race number one.

Reviews of Three Running Books

One of the good things about criss-crossing the country is that time in the plane or in the airport allows for tons of time to read. I came across a review I had written about three separate running boks while searching for an answer to a question a friend had posted.  As such, I thought now would be the prefect time to repost these reviews as many are flying themselves to marathons all over the country this fall. Enjoy!

Recently I had three books all which were in the middle of being read. Why would I start and not finish them? Well, mostly because they were located in different parts of this vast country and I forgot to bring some of them with me when I started others!

But in my quest to read a book a week this year (and to report on the sports related ones to my readers here), I present you with these 3 gems.

First is Pam Reed's autobiography The Extra Mile: One Woman's Personal Journey to Ultra-Running Greatness.

When I first started getting involved with ultramarathons, I knew two names pretty well: Dean Karnazes and Pam Reed. The two have become intertwined in recent ultrarunning history. Dean I met and became friends with a few years ago. I have not had the same pleasure yet with Pam. And I say pleasure because I think knowing her would be a wonderful thing. (Dane note: since I wrote this, I have met Pam on several occasions, had the chance to speak at the marathon in Tucson she was the director for and had a lengthy discussion with her on how both of us love to eat beef the night before the race. Getting harder to discount the benefits of lean beef when one of the greatest ultrarunners of all-time feels it fuels her or the finish.)

St. George Marathon Recap

A Runner's Ramblings: Volume 6; 35th Edition 
501.5 miles raced, 7480 meters swam and 202.3 miles biked in 2011
Race: St. George Marathon
Place: St. George, UT  
Miles from home:  300 miles
Weather: 60-80s; bright sunshine

Sometimes when you go for broke, you break.


Fortunately, nothing on me actually broke at the St. George Marathon on Saturday. But my desire to break my marathon PR was definitely far ahead of where it should have been, logically-speaking. I knew deep down I was not trained properly enough, not rested enough and wouldn't be running in weather cool enough to try to run fast but thought I could will myself to a new PR nonetheless. That said, I won't be the first to bite off a little more than I can chew in a marathon attempt and I damn sure won't be the last.

However, while the attempt itself needed to be forfeited during the race, I was extremely pleased that I was smart enough to realize the day did not have to be one where I limped across the finish under some false pretense of bravado. I did not need to leave my entire effort out on the course. Why? The goal was not to just run semi-fast or break three hours or try to tick off some little-known box on a checklist I invented for myself after the fact.  The goal was to break the PR I had set in Ogden in 2009 with this being my first attempt to even do so in two years. When it became painfully obvious that was not going to happen, pulling back and focusing on the remainders of the goals I have for this years (which may include another shot at a marathon PR) made far more sense.

When I had the desire a few months ago to make St. George my PR attempt, I definitely thought I would be spending more time at my home resting and training prior to the race. Unfortunately, circumstances and life get in the way of even our grandest plans. To begin with, a few trips were necessary in the past few months to my hometown to help take care of personal matters which definitely did not help my training at all, either physically or mentally.  However, as I stood on the starting line of the St. George Marathon, a thought came to mind that I once told a friend. We cannot get to the finish line if we do not make it to the starting line.  Here I was on the starting line. I might not get the PR, but I was going to give it a try.


First 7 miles:

Any jackwagon who thinks that the St. George Marathon is an all-down course has obviously never run it. Then again the ability of people to parrot information they hear with no actual proof is a hallmark of the human race. Without a doubt, the first 6 miles of this race have an excellent net downhill, where, if you run it correctly, can give you quite an advantage over the rest of the course. I had consulted a few friends who had run the race and using a spreadsheet that factors in the coefficient of the uphill and downhill portions, had worked out what I wanted to run for every mile of this course. Not trusting my memory, I printed out the piece of paper, taped it up and pinned it on my singlet for reference throughout the race.

The first 7 miles of the course present about 700 feet of elevation loss total.  There are, however, three small rises in these first first 7 miles that are surprising if a runner goes in feeling it is an escalator ride to the bottom.  The times I wanted to hit for these first 7 miles, with my actual time in parentheses, were as follows:

6:31 (6:27)
6:23 (6:28)
6:08 (6:11)
6:01 (6:13)
6:16 (6:25)
6:16 (6:02)
6:16 (6:11)

My goal was, at the bottom of the infamous Veyo Hill starting after the 7th mile, was to be comfortable and at a time of 43:51. When I hit that 7th mile, I was only 9 seconds off of that and feeling great.


To mile 11:

This next section of the race presents basically the most uphill and most challenging mental portion of the race.  After having the benefit of some delicious downhill for 7 miles, this is what runners face in less than one mile.

For me, I did not care if I was supposed to slow down to a 7:01 or not, I was going to slow as much as I wanted to in order to get up this hill and feel good.  In fact, at one point, I decided to walk for ten seconds just to catch my breath and gather my senses.  I felt vindicated in doing so when I lost all of about 15 feet on the people in front of me who were still running up this beast.

When I hit the 9th mile, which is still up hill, I had only lost 30 seconds off my desired pace from both my walk break and the hills I had been running.  The sun was beginning to crest over the mountains to our left. I remembered thinking I just wanted to get to mile 10 before it started to bake me fully.  I was quite pleased that it was not nearly as hot as forecasted but it was definitely warm.  In fact, it was only a few miles later when I poured a glass of water over my heavy and rivulets of salt went into my mouth did I realize how hot it was and how dehydrated I had been.  But right now I felt great. Delusion is good sometimes.

As I passed a runner wearing a St. George Running Center singlet, I could see she was in serious pain.  I told her to keep her chin up and she responded "Thanks, Dane! I love your book." When I whipped my head around to say thank you, I could see she was already in tears.  She was obviously not just tired. I asked her if she was OK and she could not get out a coherent sentence she was so distraught.  I wheeled around and ran back to her.

Amber was her name and she inquired whether I had some ibuprofen. I told her I unfortunately did not but that there was a medical unit right up the road. I could tell that she was a trooper but there was obviously something wrong with the way she was dragging her one leg.  It looked like her hip was killing her. We talked for a few seconds and I tried to console her and let her know that sometimes the best run we do is the one we don't. Think about the long term benefits of the short term decisions we make. I then left her, hoping she would make the right decision. (At the end of the race I saw Amber again. She had indeed made a very wise decision and pulled out at mile 15. I reaffirmed that she made an excellent decision based on how badly her race was going and she seemed perfectly fine with her choice. I am sure it burned at the time and will burn still more until she races again, but she knew she was right in living to run another day.)

Addendum: Amber has since go on to win St. George and ran a 2:40!

As I came up to the final portion of the uphill, I had lost a few more seconds from my retracing of steps and the continual upward jaunt but was ready to pour it on. The sun was now fully over the mountains and the shade was gone.


To mile 15:

These next four miles sealed my fate for the St. George Marathon. Even with the beginning of some of the best downhill of course, I simply could not get my legs to turn over. The next four miles had me realizing that not only was my goal of 2:45 gone but so was any PR at all.  I hit the halfway point at 1:27 and it was all downhill in the bad way from there.

I do remember at mile 15, as we turned the corner, seeing an absolute beautiful view of the vista below me. Without a a doubt if I had been in full race mode, I would have not seen this. I would have seen the road in front of me and nothing else. But as each mile slipped by and I could tell I was completely robbed of energy needed to run what I wanted (run a 7:05 when I needed to run a 6:08, for example) this was the reality of this race. It was now just me needing to run 11 more miles to get to the finish and start planning the next event.


To the finish:


The rest of the race was more of the same.  Me surprised I could not effectively run downhill, something which has always been my strong point, while more and more people streamed passed me. I became a cheerleader for the runners as those I did not know, and a few I did, pushing them forward to what was hopefully a good day for them. I know, however, for many it was not. With the leaders being quoted as saying that they were dumping water on their heads at mile 2 to stave off the heat and times across the board being slower for elites, average joes and back of the packers, this was a tough day for many.


For me it was tough because I knew I had so many friends rooting for me. I know, like so many others, that those who care about you will support you even on your bad days, but you never want to let them down. However, I knew I could be happy with my race in the long run because I lived by one of my principles of running. I'm aware I am never going to be the fastest person out there but if I can, I will always be one of the smartest. It is hard to run with your head and not your heart but  it is something I have to do sometimes.

Chalking up this race to experience only, barely halfway through was very difficult to do.  But it was the intelligent thing to do. A month ago, with my foot killing me after the Mesa Falls Marathon, I did not even think I would be running St. George at all.  However, in the next few weeks, as it seemed to heal enough to allow me just an inkling of hope to shoot for a PR, I figured I would go with it as far as I could.


On this day, my best was not enough to accomplish what I hoped for.  But I know someday soon it will be.

Runners and Volunteers

This past weekend, when the St. George Marathon ended up being nothing but a long hike for me when thoughts of a personal best blew up around mile 11, I began thinking a great deal about the relationship between runners and volunteers.  It is a symbiotic relationship.  Without volunteers, races cannot be run and without runners, there is no need for volunteers.  However, more often than not, the two only meet for brief periods of time and usually it is not when either is at their best. Runners are tired, blunt, sweaty and abrupt with an unusual demanding nature.  Volunteers are frazzled, overwhelmed and well, tired, blunt and sweaty.  The best way for both to understand each other is to actually be the other.

Runners need to take time to volunteer at races. Besides the fact that races cannot be held without a much larger number of volunteers than most people can fathom and doing so helps maintain the sport we as runners love so much, volunteering gives runners a perspective from the other side of the outstretched-hand holding a cup of water. You can see how it is not always easy to have the aid station on the inside of the curve.  You can realize that the information given to the volunteers is often limited to the scope of their job, and that alone. You can grasp that a little nod of thank you, a second of eye contact and a smile will make them feel like standing out in the freezing cold or blazing heat was worth it to help just one runner on their way to the finish.

Volunteers need to put down the orange safety vest and pick up a pen to sign up for race (Sure, I know virtually no one actually “fills out” an entry form anymore but bear with me.) The more people running in this world, the better the world will be. Now, as a runner, you will see how important it is to not fill the cup all the way to the top as a volunteer.  You will appreciate that even if you know a volunteer may not have an answer, they are probably better equipped than you are to at least be able to find the person who does know the answer.  Finally, you will realize that it is not a slight when you don’t remember to say “thank you” to a volunteer during the middle of a race; sometimes you simply don’t have the mental capacity of physical ability to raise that hand.

I have been fortunate enough to see the race from these aspects, as well as from the role of a race director and course designer.  It seems simplistic to say that once you have walked (or run) a mile in another’s shoes, you understand them better, but that is without a doubt the case here.  I get why a course may have been directed one way rather than another. I know that it is only the extraordinarily rare soul who doesn’t actually wish to make the race an enjoyable experience for all.

So, in your next race, runners, look a volunteer directly in the eye and say: “Thank you for being out here.”  And in your next effort, volunteers, I want you to reply: “My pleasure. Hope it is you putting the medal around my neck next time.”

Interview with Michael Wardian - ultrarunner extraordinaire

I first met Michael Wardian when I was a fledgling marathoner in Washington, DC.  By then, Mike had already begun to lay the groundwork for what would soon become a stellar running career that seems to still be far from its crest. We have run together on numerous occasions if by “together” you accept the definition of “on the same course”. But I don’t feel too bad about being spanked by Wardian as few can keep up with him. He won the 2008, 2009, 2010, 2011 US 50 km championships.

Me in white socks. Mike in greensleeves. He lapped me often.

The United States Track and Field Association named Wardian the 2008, 2009, 2010 Ultra Runner of the year for these and many other efforts and he was named 2010 Ultra Runner of the year by the International Association of Ultra Runners (IAU).

He has also finished the highest of any American in history in the grueling Marathon des Sables, a 250 kilometer stage race in the Sahara desert and just recently qualified for the Olympic Trials in the marathon yet again with a 2:17 at Grandma’s Marathon. He is one of a select handful of runners who are helping to bring running, and more specifically, ultrarunning, to the masses. A quick google search will show you what he has been able to achieve in just a few short years.

I had the chance to sit down with my former running club mate and ask him a few questions.

Dane: As you have undoubtedly been told to race less frequently and  focus on one race to attempt to run faster, does your huge Personal Record Grandma's Marathon this past June while continuing to do things your way, vindicate your desires?
MRW: I don't feel vindicated, just happy and really excited.  I feel like I am running and training the way that works for me and until I no longer get the results that I want and expect I will keep doing things as I have but to see results and tangible substantial gains is really inspiring and just pushes me to work that much harder.

Dane: How did you figure out that you were able to be such a prolific running machine?
MRW:  I don't really consider myself a running machine.  I just like to train, run and race. That means in order to do all the things I hope to accomplish I have to bounce back fast.  I think that my desire to be out there and exploring my limits really helps me achieve the goals I set out for myself.

Dane: Your humble attitude is why so many people enjoy being around you, but whether you consider yourself a running machine or not, you are doing something, few if any could ever do. Without a doubt you are working very hard to do what you do but were there any signs of this talent (e.g., family members who are fantastic runners) prior to embarking on your own journey?
 MRW: Thank you again for the kind words, I guess I should have known I had some talent as I always be one of the first guys done with our runs for lacrosse (At Michigan State)  but never thought I would run a marathon or ultra marathon. Then I went to my buddy, Vince Voisin's house and his Mom, Vicki showed me some pictures of her doing the Boston Marathon. I had always been into "Wide World of Sports" and that stuff but never thought I would do those things until that day.  I decided that I wanted to run the Boston Marathon and Vicki gave me a packet to set me on my way. I then trained for and ran the Marine Corps Marathon and was able to qualify in about 3:08 or so.  After, qualifying I went to Boston and I was hooked and decided to see just how good I could get. I guess I am still trying to see just how fast, strong and far I can go.

Akron Half Marathon Recap

A Runner's Ramblings: Volume 6; 34th Edition 
484.3 miles raced, 7480 meters swam and 202.3 miles biked in 2011
Race: Akron Half Marathon
Place: Akron, OH  
Miles from home:  1747 miles
Weather: 50-60s; overcast

The Akron Marathon was where in 2008 I had the pleasure to share the dais with Kathrine Switzer and begin a friendship that flatters me to this day.  I say flatters because when of the most iconic figures in women’s running deems to cal you a friend, there is no better adjective to describe what you feel.  So, when the Ohio Beef Council expressed interest in working with me at this race, even though it was one week before a new marathon PR attempt, I said yes.  I figured that it if I didn’t get the new PR it probably had a great deal more with the 80,000 miles I have flown this year and the other 30-odd races in between.

I found a long time ago that most people find questions in and of themselves to be confrontational. Regardless of the inquisitive nature of the interrogatories, it is the mere fact you are not accepted at face value the words as truth which bothers many. Myself, I love questions. I love explanations.  In fact, if I am not asking you questions about what you have said, chances are pretty good I don’t care what you are saying. 

Putting myself out there in the public eye, especially as the first National SpokesRunner for the Beef Industry has allowed many to question me. I welcome it.  If I don’t know the answer to your question, I have no problem telling you so. I like learning as much as I like knowing the answer already.  And one major thing I have learned is how many people in this country are running races, are fit as a fiddle and are fueling themselves with beef.  I also know that some people have questions about whether beef is healthy for them. If you have those questions, do what I did: research.  Both the book kind and the experiment on yourself kind.

When I asked one runner at my booth if he liked beef, he patted a rotund belly and said: “Don’t I look like it?” I don’t think he expected my response.  “Nope.  It looks like you enjoy eating lots of crap.” This led to a great exchange wherein I learned that he did indeed pair his beef choices with not-so-healthy other choices.  When another woman told me that she liked beef but it wasn’t a healthful food choice, I inquired what she was basing this decision on. As I interrupted her throw away sentence here (I wanted to stop her before she went further) she rolled her eyes and stated: “Science.”. I’m not a fan of having someone roll their eyes at me when I am asking a simple question and usually I will just ignore them.  But I pushed forward.

“What kind of ‘science’?”  She really didn’t have an answer for that. She repeated her one word answer.  What seemed obvious to me was that she was simply parroting something that she thought was true.  She was going off of some ill-conceived notion of what beef does too people without really knowing the cause and effect.  Just like the guy with the gut.

The same thing applies to running. It’s bad for your knees.  You will get arthritis.  Eventually an injury is going to befall you. All runners hear these things from non-runners but I am actually subjected to them by other actual runners. At a race expo.   I am always dumbfounded that here are people who are actually doing the activity and they are still listening to people who haven’t run since they were forced to in 7^th grade for the Presidential Physical Fitness test.  I want to grab them, shake them and tell them “Think for yourself, damn it!”

Whether it is a food choice, a shoe decision, or listening to some crackpot espouse some theory that you know could not even be close to the truth, think for yourself.

Running in Cemeteries

I don’t like cemeteries.

This isn’t because I am creeped out by being around them or get the heebie-jeebies when I go into them. Everyone there is dead. It's pretty safe. Also, I guess, upon further reflection, I don’t actually dislike them. They are interesting in that they provide a wonderful and rich source of history, especially from a time when there is little other record of what happened in that era. They are also not a waste of valuable real estate either (until they are full) considering how much a plot of land goes for these days. As such, they are decent usages of land (unlike golf courses.) What I guess I dislike is the idea of future cemeteries being built. Or maybe I just have zero desire to be buried and hope that my body can be used to help others once I no longer need it.

But man do I love running in cemeteries.

When I plan on going for a run in a cemetery, I always wonder if it is disrespectful to those who are buried there for me to be running on the roads that circumvent their final resting places. Like I am flaunting my whole being-alive-ness or something. But if it is good enough for Ed Whitlock, it is good enough for me. Ed Who, you ask? Ed Whitlock is probably the greatest age group runner ever (or at least in the discussion.) At age 73, a few years back, he ran a 2:54 marathon. Not a half, but a full. Yeah. Well, Ed does virtually every single mile of his training at the cemetery two blocks from his home in Toronto. Loops and loops and loops around the cemetery, avoiding even the slightest hill on the backside of the course. But Ed runs cemeteries more out of convenience than for the reasons why I like running in cemeteries. (Addendum: We lost Ed this past year.  That sucks.)

They are quiet. Well-manicured. Orderly. No cars are going to go flying by spitting dust into your face. They are, by nature, serene and usually quite beautiful. In a city setting cemeteries are often the closest most would ever get to a national park or being able to go for a trail run.

I conducted a poll amongst friends and found I was far from the only one who enjoyed the safety and beauty of running in a cemetery, but wondered about the etiquette involved. One runner said you should simply treat the land as you would anything else that isn’t yours in the first place: with respect. Heck, cemeteries aren’t really for the dead anyway. They are for the living.

So do as much living as you can. Chances are pretty good that many of the deceased you will be running around were runners themselves at one point. They are probably happy to have you out there enjoying the land and exercising instead of playing the Wii. Hopefully they won’t offer any tips from beyond, though.

I may just discover fast-twitch muscles I never knew existed if that were to happen.

Fox Valley Fall Final 20 Recap

A Runner's Ramblings: Volume 6; 33rd Edition 
471.2 miles raced, 7480 meters swam and 202.3 miles biked in 2011
Race: Fox Valley Fall Final  20
Place: St. Charles, IL  
Miles from home:  1357 miles
Weather: 50s; light to moderate rain

I had two very simple goals for this race:

1. Help my new friend Shannon Bixler get through the first 10+ miles exactly on pace for a 3:10 marathon.
2. Try to subsequently pick up the remaining 9+ miles to bring it home strong and test where I stand for my PR attempt in two weeks at St. George.

The first of these goals did not take shape until I did both a talk and run at the Dick Pond athletic store in St, Charles on the Tuesday before the event. I met Shannon and her mother during the run and in the midst of talking about her goal for the marathon that weekend she told me she was hoping for a 3:10.  I asked her if she wanted someone to pace her for the first 10-plus miles as the 20 miler I was running followed the exact same course of the marathon for the first half. Shannon said she would be happy to have the company and now I had something to "do" in a race which would have just been me running by myself previously.

At this book signing I met a ton of people who I would later meet at the expo where I was partnering with the Illinois Beef Association for the second straight week to help spread the word about the positive ways in which lean beef helps keep athletes fit and fuel them for the finish. In a cozy expo, it was easy to get to know my other boothmates who kept the two long expo days lively with their chatter and exploits. They might have eaten as many of the beef samples as I did too. No, that is probably not possible.



Pre-race: 


Being a night-owl and a marathoner really do not go well together. I try and try to go to bed early but it rarely happens. When I do not feel like I am necessarily needing to give my "best" that urgency is even less and has me staying up forever.  Part of this was to blame on the wonderful Bixler family who invited me into their home to share in a huge family reunion dinner of sorts as varying members of the extended family were in town for different events. I was treated to tons of tales and it was fun to simply sit back, for the most part, and not have to talk. This wonderful dinner pushed back everything else i had to do that night so when I finally got around to trying to sleep it was once again just a few mere hours away from when I would need to get up anyway.  blast.

The morning broke beautifully.  I mean, like we need to make a postcard out of this beautifully. There had been a threat of rain and a few droplets had fallen on my cheeks as I arrived but things were looking up. I met with the Illinois Beef Association who were setting up their grill to hand out samples of lean beef to runners post-race when the sky clouded over and the rain began to drizzle.  As the cool temperatures stayed the same and the cold rain fell, I knew that this tent would be jam backed a few hours later. I meandered to the start and got ready for the run.

Church of Sweat

I was raised Catholic. Ironically, I have very little guilt left in me about skipping church these days. I guess my parents did a poor job of raising me in their chosen religion. However, they did instill in me a fantastic amount of faith, which I find far more important, and for that, I thank them. Now, this is not a scathing review of religion (and having lived in Utah for four years would provide me with ample ammunition for such a discourse) but rather a review of personal faith gained by reaching out to a higher power in a different way.

Having gone on a weekly basis to church growing up, with Sunday school afterward, and weekday classes to further my relationship with God, I have spent many hours sitting in a pew or with those who wished to inform me about what God wanted for me. Going to college and grad school, where Sunday mornings became the one day where I could actually sleep in, signaled the beginning of the end of my regular attendance to church. Running 52 Marathons in 2006 on weekends was the death knell.  However, I now consider myself far more faithful with at least as strong an understanding of a higher power than anyone who can quote a passage from Deuteronomy. Running brought me this.

I have seen the sunrise over the Rocky Mountains and watched its rays set a grassy field ablaze in color in a flat Iowa landscape.  I have felt a personal connection with the ground I run on, whether it was a broken-glass strewn street in the hood of some urban plight or the crushed gravel of the Black Hills of South Dakota.  I have experienced unrivaled compassion and friendship from other runners in the middle of thousands on a race course. I have felt the warm glow of friendship from a single runner handing me a sip of water from their bottle on a sultry and sticky hot day on the gulf coast.

Miles after miles have been put on my legs with Muslims, Jews, Christians, Buddhists, atheists, Sikhs and every other religious sect, lapsed (like myself) or not. Their personal bests and preference of individual lubrication choices meant more to me than whom they prayed to that night. 

Does running teach religious tolerance?  I’m not about to go that far.  However, I do know running and experiencing the world first-hand has opened my eyes far more than dressing up in my Sunday best and confining myself inside for an hour a week, going through the motions and wondering exactly how that one person over there can even think about taking communion after what they were doing the night before.

Ever had to reach down really far in a race, long after you have puked, decided to quit, then decided against quitting and resolved to finish this race and move straight to cross-stitching as a hobby?  No matter how much I give myself, and my training, credit for my ability to overcome obstacles and move forward, I cannot possibly accept it all. I know there are times that what I have done makes zero sense and given a certain set of circumstances, probably was not really possible. However, it was achieved. I most assuredly did not do this by myself. Or maybe I did. I have no idea. But I do know running makes me a better person and makes me want to help others.

That is what religion is supposed to teach us, right?