Green Bay Marathon Recap - Sort of

A Runner's Ramblings: Volume 7; 7th Edition 
195.5 miles raced in 2012
Race: Green Bay Marathon
Place: Green Bay, WI
Miles from home: 1493 miles
Weather: 80s, humid; awful

Will it or won’t it? As I begin this recap, the question remains whether the Green Bay Marathon will count as an official marathon in my own personal standings.

Lookie here. Yowsers.

As you may have heard, the Cellcom Green Bay Marathon was given black-flag death sentence status a mere two hours and 25 minutes after it started. Unprecedented heat and soaring humidity closed down the course before any marathoner officially completed the course. As of right now, only 5 male and five female finishers have been given official times and those coincide with the prize money being offered for those places.

To begin, I agree with the decision by the race to shut down the race, ostensibly, for the reasons of safety. It is no big surprise that many of those who run a marathon today are doing so to cross it off a list, to simply complete it, and in many cases, more or less shuffling along. Lest there be confusion, I pass no judgment on those people. I merely state a fact. As such, when weather conditions present themselves in such a way that even when planned for, an emergency response team, paramedics, firemen, hospital staff etc, are being taxed and not a single marathoner has finished, a decision must be made to protect the health and well-being of not just the back-of-the-packers but those in the front of the pack as well.

Runners gladly adding mileage to get cool.

You see, even though, starting around mile 19, I was told by race officials, volunteers and police officers that the race was either canceled, I would get an official time but was warned not to go on. or they would be closing down the clock and I was advised to get on one of the shuttle buses to take me back to the finish, I pushed forward. I did this because I had already thrown in the towel for this race as early as mile ten. Continuing on was simply me plodding forward at a much slower pace, with tons of walking thrown in. As I was no longer running, I was barely putting myself in any more danger than I have in any other hot run. In fact, I was in pretty good hands

The race may have been over/canceled/black flagged but the volunteers were still out in force. The cones were still on the street.  The signs telling runners where to go were still up for us to know the route. The citizens of Green Bay and its environs, who were asked to support runners by turning on hose and sprinklers and the like were all out there doing just this for us runners. The impeccable planning that went into the race was still in place. The community showed up to make sure we didn’t go down.

I have had the pleasure of speaking with Dave McGillivray, the race director of the Boston Marathon, on numerous occasions.  Once I ran the Boston Marathon with him, long after the race had started, as he does every year for the past 40 years.  I inquired why he felt he could run while the race was still running. I mean, this is Boston – doesn’t he have to be all hands on deck until the last runner crosses the finish? Dave’s answer, in a paraphrasing way, was that come race day he has done all he can do. If he has done his job, all things will go right even when all things that can go wrong, do. I am not implying he is not reachable on race day or is still not involved.  But his point was that get the right people around you doing the right jobs and once the gun fires, most of what you can do is done.

Sean in white hat behind Dave in red.

It is no coincidence that Sean Ryan, the RD of the Green Bay Marathon is a friend of Dave McGillivray. Undoubtedly, Dave’s own planning have been a good influence on Sean and what he does with his races. As such, as I began to run then jog then walk along the course of Green Bay’s marathon I had no reason to be surprised that even with everything going wrong, everything was still going right. In fact, while I appreciated the passion of one man on a bike, who I saw numerous times throughout the course, berating a volunteer for the fact that “These people are out here busting their asses.  How dare you cancel the race!” his ire was misplaced. I took it upon myself to thank him and tell him so.  The volunteer was simply following orders of a well-planned plan. And, for the most part, us idiots who were still running when it was approaching 90 degrees were being too stubborn for our own good.

It is quite coincidental that I wrote an article about DNFing just a few weeks ago.  Believe me, I had plenty of time to think about this article from mile 21 on when the vast majority of my walking began. I wondered if I was pushing the boundaries and would “do nothing foolish.” But realizing that a 15 minute per mile pace would get me under four hours for the marathon and that sitting on a shuttle heading back to the start might even be hotter and causing of more cramps than moving forward on my own, I chose the latter.

Earlier in the race, right around mile seven, I had been running with a Canadian friend of mine named Kevin. We were clipping along at a 3:10 marathon pace. We passed a guy who was just absolutely dripping in sweat.  He looked like he was hoping this was a 12k race and not a 42k one. I slid up to him and asked him what his goal was and he answered “To PR and hopefully go under 3:10.” I told him “Not to be Pat Pessimist here but there’s little chance of that happening.  Can I unsolicitedly suggest that you call today a long-ass training run and find another marathon a few weeks from now?”  When we left each other a few yards later I think he decided that might be a good idea. I did not do this to cast doubt in his mind about his performance but rather call upon 139 previous marathons’ (and numerous other races’) experience.  I wanted this guy to do nothing foolish.

Team Beef rocks.

When I realized this day was toast (almost literally) at mile ten I bid Kevin goodbye.  He asked if I was all right and I told him it was a pre-emptive strike.  I kept him in sight for the next 6 miles until we crossed the Fox River and started heading north upon what is usually a gorgeous bike path. Partially shaded by bushes and trees, with views of lovely homes to your immediate right, I bet this is a great training area. It is probably even more lovely on race day- ya know, when it is 40 degrees cooler. As late as mile 20 I was still on a 3:24 pace but that was mostly because I was on a 3:15 pace 5 miles before. I had seen the 3:15 pace group leader tear off his pacing singlet and give it to a friend/family member at one point. He was done for the day. Many others began to follow suit.

My own real concern began around mile 23 when, in spite of constant and vigorous hydration, my urine indicated I was severely dehydrated. Even more disheartening was now my belly was rebelling. Fortunately, I had eaten a delicious steak dinner the night before which had quickly nourished me and passed through my system.  I had taken in nothing the morning of the race foodwise so there was nothing to come up. The ab workout I received from this dry retching, however, was something I could have done without.

With less than a mile to go, and Lambeau Field in sight (oh, how I was wishing for its “frozen tundra”) I simply began to wonder whether this marathon would count.  Which leads back to my original thought. I do not envy the decision which needs to be made by the RD and staff of the Green Bay Marathon. I know the clock was stopped but I also know that I received split times for my race all the way up to the finish. I do have an official time after all. Chances are I will support the decision of the RD either way. Having a small asterisk by my Green bay Marathon, if declared a non-race, will just make for good story telling.  To be honest, the fact that it had not happened in 139 previous marathons is quite remarkable, especially given the conditions I have previously ran in. If it does count, my time of 3:47:33 will be 132nd slowest marathon ever.  Only two Leadvilles, Pikes Peak, a marathon I ran in China with food poisoning, my first marathon ever, a similarly hot and humid marathon in Maui, a trail marathon (where my time of 4:04 made me 6th overall!) and the first marathon of 52 in 2006 where I ran a half the day before are slower. That ought to put it in perspective for you.

Angie on the right. Punk.

More over, the perspective should be that it is simply a race. There will be another one. As serious as I understand many, including myself, take their times, there will indeed be another race. We run to be healthy, to challenge ourselves, to push beyond our boundaries and to clear our minds. None of that can be done if we do something so foolish to keep us from running again. To all of you who made it through the Green Bay Sufferfest of 2012, congratulations. You will have a story to tell which will be far more interesting to anyone than if you had set a PR there.

Although I will admit, that my one friend, Angie Zinkus, who ran a 3:05 AND set a PR, might have us all beat in the story-telling department.

Why I Run

A running friend of mine asked me if I was ever going to “just concentrate on trying to run one fast marathon” instead of racing all the time like I presently do. This is a question I have heard on numerous occasions, and I have many ready-made answers for it. What struck me as ironic in this instance is how this friend, a pretty fast runner in their own right, tends to run the vast majority of their races on trail. If you are unfamiliar with trail racing, you know that for the most part, you can throw away the clock when trying to compare one trail 50K to another. I felt like pointing out the inconsistency when the question was asked, as given their own personal running preference, there is obviously no way that they ever just concentrated on running one fast race either. Instead, I told them the various reasons why I currently run and race how I do. (If you ever wish to sit down and listen to those reasons someday, I would be happy to tell you what they are.)

However, what it all boils down to is running for yourself.

This sounds selfish but my meaning here is to run for reasons that are personal. Running is such a personalized sport, rarely done with any teammates to speak of and almost always practiced alone. Your goals and reasons for running and racing should be just as personalized. Those reasons could be because you wish to raise money for charity. They could be because you are hoping to lose weight. Perhaps you like running because of the good feeling it gives you when you complete a run. Maybe the reason you lace up your shoes is because it is far better of an addiction than one you previously had.

The main thing is that you have your own reasons. Do not run for anyone else. This is why if I meet a non-runner who makes it a point to tell me, often unsolicited, that they don't like running, I rarely waste a breath attempting to convince them otherwise. If they do not want to go for a run, I most assuredly have not been put on this planet to convince them otherwise with words. I would much rather talk to those who already share my passion or those who are curious about joining our ranks.

When you run for reasons all your own, you have a stake in your running. You do not need to prove any one wrong, you do not need to justify your passions and your grip on your happiness becomes that much stronger. When asked if I enjoy showing those who feel certain things cannot be done are actually achievable I can say with almost 100-percent accuracy that I could not care less if a naysayer now thinks twice about doubting me.

My running is, to me, a means to explore my own limits, done on my timetable, in the method I wish to achieve it. Besides a small and select group of people, approval is something I rarely seek from others.

I have found that my harshest critic, and the one who will also be most pleased with why I run in the first place is me, and tailoring my running to make me happy is the most important thing.

Off to Camp!

This weekend starts my first ever running camp as I partner with Terry Chiplin and his Active at Altitude series of camps. Hard to state how excited I am about this opportunity and the wonderful group of runners we will have joining us in Estes Park, CO.

Runners will be treated to not only some excellent running (a light winter has made trails normally unacceptable easy to run on!) but wonderful seminars.  With running phenoms both Anita Ortiz and Melody Fairchild dispensing advice and stories, there will be no shortage of inspiration at this camp. Both women have achieved much success but have done so in rather unconventional ways. Their experiences will give so much to the runners (and myself  as well!) and we could not be more happy to have them joining us.

With five days at altitude, running in gorgeous places and learning from athletes of all different ability levels, this camp is going to be fantastic. After testing out some of the trails and getting more intimately aware with the trail system in Estes Park this past February, I can attest that I am probably more excited to take these campers on this upcoming weekend then they are to be there!

Definitely want to thank SPIbelt, Oxygen4Energy, LinSocks, Julbo, ROAD ID and Stuffitts for their wonderful contributions to the camp. The swag bag these campers are getting will put to shame any other gift bags they have ever received!

Stay tuned on Facebook and Twitter for daily updates!

New Jersey Marathon Recap

A Runner's Ramblings: Volume 7; 6th Edition 
169.3 miles raced in 2012
Race: New Jersey Marathon
Place: Long Branch, NJ
Miles from home: 2194 miles
Weather: 50s, cloudy; humid

I posed the question “Are you recovered?” in my Kentucky Derby MiniMarathon recap last week in reference to how many times I had been asked it since I finished my 350 mile along the Oregon Coast. As this week at the New Jersey Marathon answered “Nope.”

That may be simplifying the answer but we are in the 140 character Twitterverse these days. Perhaps I listened to too many friends who are too eager to tout recovery skills which I possess but may have been exaggerated. Maybe I just wasn’t ready to push a sub-3 hour marathon pace just yet and as I preach to all who listen, I should not have started that fast.  All I know is that regardless of how the energy ebbed from my legs in the final 10k of this marathon, I know it is one that should be on the list of all runners.

So much goes into putting together the simplest 5k and many runners are simply unaware of what that is.  In a recent article in Running Times, the crux of writing was how to get more runners involved in the sport as fans. The problem is that running, because of its egalitarian nature, is far more a participant sport these days than it is a spectator sport.  This is a shame for a multitude of reasons, not the least of which is runners do not appreciate so many of the nuances that make a race a good one.

In a different time, I was interviewing to be in the CIA. Basically, if I did the job I was supposed to do, you would never know I did it. I found it akin to offensive lineman in NFL.  Toiling in anonymity is what they want best. This also holds true for races. If things go smoothly, and let’s get this straight – this almost never happens, you aren’t aware how wonderfully planned they were.

In my newest book, 138,336 Feet to Pure Bliss I lament that so many of today’s runners do not know our past in this sport.  As such, the sense of entitlement for what they expect on race day is unbelievably high. In the past few races I have run, I heard one runner complaining about the skimpiness of a goodie bag and another talk about how some, but not every one of their emails inquiring about things which were evident on the website, were answered. When I hear things like this, I almost resort to the twitter vocab and want to verbally “hashtag” someone with a SMH (shaking my head.)

Kentucky Derby Minimarathon Recap

A Runner's Ramblings: Volume 7; 5th Edition 
143.1 miles raced in 2012
Race: Kentucky Derby Minimarathon
Place: Louisville, KY
Miles from home: 1595 miles
Weather: 50s, cloudy; cool

Are you recovered?

That has been the number one question I have received from well-meaning friends, family and fans since I ran the length of the coast of Oregon starting one month ago today. As with all questions I receive about my running I always try to answer thoroughly, anticipating not only the next question but why the question is asked in the first place. The short answer to every one of these questions, and countless similar ones is "It depends".

It depends on what your definition of recovered it. Am I limping? Nope. Am I able to cycle and swim? Yep. Is there any lingering soreness in my legs? Absolutely. Can I run a 13.1 mile race? Shouldn't be a problem. But how how fast I run it is where we get into the gray area of answering that initial question.

The real answer is "There is no way in the name of all that is sugary and good am I recovered. For 7 days I ran 50 miles a day over terrain and through wind and rain, stopping to talk to kids all along the way. I am exhausted.  Mentally. Physically. Emotionally. Bereft of energy I am. I expect to be in a general malaise for a few months as my schedule leaves little time to rest or recoup. But will I toe the line at the Derby Mini and find out where I am on my recovery? Let's just say that's a pretty sure bet."

I hadn't the foggiest idea what to expect for this race.  Realistically I thought I could make a 1:35 but I would have to make it hurt.  Closer to 1:40 seemed more realistic. An even 1:45 appeared to be even more probable. My recovery had been relatively fast, even though I had not gotten my usual number of massages. I had, however, eaten a ton of lean beef and working with the Kentucky Beef Council, I had no problem telling people I think that is one major reason why things not only worked out in Oregon but why I was even standing today.

Prior to the race I had the honor to speak to a fantastic bunch of kids at the Farmer's Elementary School in Louisville. Rarely, if ever, have I had the opportunity to speak to such a well-behaved group of children who were at the same time so intent on asking thought-provoking questions. (Especially the kid who asked me which horse I was going to be riding. I think he was a little bit confused.) It actually got to the point, with dozens of hands still up in the air, where the principal had to final end the Q&A.

I got to meet so many great kids but one who would be actually running the 13.1 distance was EIGHT year old, Blake. This kid was so cool and nonchalant about the entire endeavor that he put me at ease.  When I saw him at the end of the race, where his mother actually had to hold him back to run with her, he looked like he hadn't even ran.  To Blake and all the other awesome kids at Farmer's, thank you for making my day! The future is definitely bright with kids like you leading the way.

At the expo itself I met a plethora of fantastically motivating people, including those recovering from Stage Four Cancer, those who were dealing with the grief of loved ones lost, or soon to be lost, and others who were simply out there pushing past their own boundaries and trying to do as I always say, ignore the impossible.  I was flattered to be asked to sign not just my book, but bib numbers, programs and even some of the One More Mile shirts that carried some of my slogans!

My New Book: 138,336 Feet to Pure Bliss

It is with unbridled pleasure that I can announce today that my second book will be available nationwide on Amazon.com starting May 30th, one day before my birthday. The book is entitled

138,336 Feet to Pure Bliss - 

What I Learned about Life, Women (and Running) in My 1st 100 Marathons

Now, what is exactly 138,336 feet long?  Simple – a marathon. (Actually, a marathon, 26.22 miles is 138,435 feet.  The title referring to the more commonly known 26.2 miles, is an homage to how the marathon distance has changed so many times in its history.) What is the book about? 381 pages. (Ha!) But, let's turn over to the back cover for a more detailed answer (which everyone in the world does anyway.)

In 138,336 Feet to Pure Bliss, Dane chronicles his first 100 marathons and details some of the premier races in marathon history, all while sharing knowledge he gained about life, women and running.  Along the way, he charts the highs and lows, the successes and failures in a voice that blends wisdom, humor, and heart.

All told, Dane shows how pure bliss is discovered one stride at a time.

If you want to know more, then read the advance praise I received from some of the biggest names in running. It is a great honor and privilege to have each of them say what they have about my book.

*Dane writes with power and purposes, just like he runs. His passion and conviction are apparent in every footstep he takes and in every page he pens.
 Dean Karnazes, Ultramarathon Man

*Most runners, and writers, would think this had been enough—racing a marathon every weekend in one calendar year and then publishing a book about it. They would have settled back into smaller challenges. Not Dane Rauschenberg. His list of adventures has grown longer, and his stories about them have grown richer. Pure Bliss stamps Dane even more firmly as one of the hottest young talents in running writing. 
Joe Henderson, Longtime Running Commentator

*The more you do, the more you CAN do.  Dane is living proof. Go for it!
Kathrine Switzer, Running Advocate & First Woman to Enter the Boston Marathon

*Dane offers the passionate runner and even the occasional jogger inspiring stories of life and running, seen from every angle of the running world. One can easily tell the depth which Dane cares about the sport and wants to share all the knowledge he has learned with the reader. This book is a page-turner! 
Wayne Kurtz, Author, Beyond the Iron

*Some nice guys do weird things! Dane shares his running adventures with a mix of warm enthusiasm, sane advice, and comical humor.
Roger Robinson, Running Author & Senior Writer, Running Times

For those who cannot wait until May 30th, and wish to get their own personalized and signed copy, just contact me at danerunsalot@yahoo.com and one of the advance copies I will be receiving in just a few weeks will be yours!

Here’s to your Pure Bliss!

 

 

Changing Gears

Ever since May of 2009, when I last sent my marathon PR, my running has been on a different track. I knew, even then, I would be attempting a solo running of the 202 mile American Odyssey Relay a year later.  While the rest of the year played out with engagements and races already planned (including one last shot at a new marathon PR that was not disastrous but not great) I knew my running was going in a different direction. I would be taking on events which would challenge me like no other in my life. but they wouldn't involve speed.

In the book Death Valley 300, author Rich Benyo talks about becoming the first two people to attempt to run the Badwater 150 mile course (which includes the regular 135 mile course and then the ascent to Mt. Whitney) to and from Badwater. In it he talks about the training for this would hit his ego as he knew he would be sacrificing speed for endurance.  I know exactly what he was talking about. After finishing the 202 miler, I had already began the first steps of planning for the 350 mile run of the coast of Oregon. I "recovered" from the 202 and spent most of the first half 2011 simply trying to regain speed which never came back. I should have known with what i had on tap it wasn't going to happen. I threw in a half-hearted marathon PR attempt with high hopes here and there but nothing panned out.  In the back of my mind all that loomed was the 350 miler.

Now that 350 is completed and I am changing gears a bit. I want to run fast again, at least what “fast” is to me. I also wish to really try to get into triathlon.  I dabbled in it a little bit last year with moderate success.  My first ever Olympic Distance tri netted me a slot at the national championship race. Not too shabby.  However, my traveling last year (41 weekends on the road) made it very difficult to get cycling training in necessary to be competitive in triathlons. Everyone I know seems to loathe the swim when in reality it is such a small darn part of the triathlon it almost doesn’t exist. Only in Olympic distances does it even remotely comprise a percentage of effort overall to be worried about. No, it is about the bike.

I am still traveling quite a bit but I have scaled back my airline miles this year. With a move of locations coming up, there will also be less time than desirable to dive headfirst into tris.  But that’s OK.  You see I plan on making them more and more of a focus of my overall training for the next few years. I have shown what I can do in the running world. I will never be a “fast” marathoner. But I can do some rather challenging running feats. Now I want to see what I can do in the triathlon world. Honestly, I wish aquathlons (swim-run events) were more prevalent, because if I could ditch the bike entirely I would be a happy camper.  However, they are few and far between and the ones I have seen have an odd propensity to couple a mile long swim with just a 5k. How that isn’t at least 1 5k to make I a true test of endurance at both events is beyond me.  But I digress.

So while I will obviously still be running quite a bit, the current trajectory is to go to the shorter distance races (marathon on down) and get my butt in the saddle and into the pool. I am looking forward to the change of pace and change of athletic muscle usage. With two different 70.3s on the horizon (Boise and Vikingman) I am hoping to make a few people worried when they see my name in the registration list.

We will see how it all plays out.

Do Nothing Foolish

Saturday morning for me in Salt Lake City.  It's partly cloudy and 42 degrees. There is next to no humidity. This is one of those days where if you were to be running a marathon, and are trained well, you are probably going to set a huge PR.

Across the country in Boston, while tens of thousands of runners are getting ready to run in the most famous footrace in the world, the exact opposite is brewing. Projected highs in the mid-80s are being coupled with bright sunshine for Monday morning. For a race starting at 10 AM (mercifully moved from noon a few years ago) that means virtually everyone will be still running when the apex of the temperature and heat and humidity will be blasting down from above. Let me sum up the thought process of probably 99.9% of those runners for you: "Craptastic."

I despise racing in the heat.  Heck, I despise racing in 60 degree weather. As my years of racing have gotten a little greater, I have gotten better at racing in the heat. Please note the use of the comparative adjective. "Better" does not mean "good".  It also does not mean that I have conditioned my body to running in warm weather.  In fact, I might have made myself 10% better at it during this time. But what I have done is become a smarter runner. I now know that if it is hot, I am simply not going to be running what I want to run. I can shoot for a sub-3 hour marathon, crash from the heat and struggle across in 3:45 or decide that sub-3 is not going to happen and run a conservative 3:10 and look like I went out for a jog.  That's the difference: the mindset.

I am hoping those running on Monday have that mindset.  If the current weather forecast stays the same, use your head. If you forget to use your head and you find yourself in some dire straights, there is nothing wrong with a DNF. "DNF" usually means "Did Not Finish".  It is dreaded by many.  It is deemed to be the utmost of horrible things. However, to me, "DNF" sometimes means "Do Nothing Foolish".

My first Boston Marathon was in 2005 in conditions that were very similar to what will happen Monday.  I half-listened to myself. Not nearly as wise as I am now (it was, after all, just my 8th marathon) I went out too hard in the heat. However, when I realized it was not going to be a good day at all, I slowed the pace. I walked. I rested. At the time my PR was a 3:07. I did a 3:24 at Boston.  It stung not to do my best time but to only be 17 minutes off, mixing in walking breaks in the sauna-like conditions, was something I was very happy with.

Boston is wonderful.  It is historic. It means so much to so many people.  But it is just a race, people. Remember that.  If you find yourself needing to stop, do it. Your long-term health and long-term running career depend on you being able to use your head when you body is not working. I absolutely promise you that there will be another race down the line.

Let's have you around to finish it, OK?

Luckie's 5k recap

A Runner's Ramblings: Volume 7; 4th Edition 
130 miles raced in 2012
Race: Luckie's 5k
Place: Atlanta, GA
Miles from home: 1871 miles
Weather: 60s, sunny, muggy

In the week following my 100 mile finish at Graveyard, I barely ran.  I did one short little 2-miler and then another softly trotted 5 miler with the club members of the Salt Lake City Track club. I then boarded a plane to Atlanta to take part in the festivities of the Georgia Marathon weekend for the third straight year. I had zero intention of taking part in any of the races for the weekend. At a reception after the first day of the expo for those involved with putting the race together, the idea was jokingly proposed that I "Beat the Bear" in the 5k the next morning.  

What does that mean, you might ask? Well, Karhu, the shoe company which sponsored, the race has a mascot of a bear. In the 5K race, a local fast runner is given quite the unenviable task of running the 5k dressed in a sweat-inducing bear suit and gigantic bear head. If you are skilled enough to beat him, you win a pair of Karhu shoes. Hence, the joke that I should Beat the Bear.

Well, then the joke became more of a reality, in spite of my persistence that I was in fact quite sore from running 100 miles in 21 hours five days previously. “But the guy wears a bear suit!” was the reply. Soon, like a teen at a party I succumbed to the peer pressure and found myself with a bib number for the Luckie’s 5K the next morning.

Race Morning:

I stood on the starting line of the race, in relatively warm temperatures, happy as heck I was just running 3.1 miles.  Then I realized that barring a 5k at the end of a sprint triathlon last year, the last time I ran a 5k in a race alone was over three years ago. I don’t run 5ks for many reasons - two of those being they hurt like heck and I am not too good at them. What the heck was I doing running this one?

I literally had no idea what to expect out of my legs.  Was this going to take me 19 minutes or was it going to take me 25 minutes?  Could I even get my legs moving fast enough to be in contention for beating that damn bear? Or would this particularly hilly 5k course tear me to shreds? The next 3.1 miles would give me my answer.

Mile 1:

Right out of the block I had to remind myself this was a fast race.  Even when I hadn’t run an ultra a week prior, it was hard for me to remind my legs that it was OK to hurt this bad as the pain would be over shortly. After the first tiny uphill, we were presented with a nice sloping downhill and I felt pretty darn good. Surprisingly good. But when that  downhill ended, so did the good feeling. The second we started our first real climb my entire body made the sound the Millennium Falcon did when Chewbacca did not properly fix the hyper drive.

The Bear ran right passed me.

Mile 2:

Fortunately, after falling downwind of the Bear, the course straightened just a touch with another downhill to boot. My legs resisted any attempt to go full force down the hill but at least I was able to pass the Bear again. Meanwhile, way up ahead, a tiny little boy of 15, Jaison was crushing the course.  Only on the longest of straightaways could I even see his skinny little frame, cruising down the street. But then another hill would get in the way and I would lose sight of him.  How can there be so many hills in three miles?!

Mile 3:

With just one measly mile to go I was doing everything I could to hold on.  My pipe dream for this 5k was to break 19 minutes and after the first two miles I somehow, against any logic, had a chance. It all depended on how much I faded and on how bad the remaining hills were. Well, evidently I faded too much and the hills were too bad because my last mile went by way too slow. It did feel like the course might have run a little long and in a marathon that doesn’t mean all that much.  But in 5k when you are hanging on for dear life it makes all the difference in the world.

Even after one runner sprinted passed me I think mistakenly thinking the race was over where it wasn’t and then promptly fell behind me again, I continued on my pace. Crossing the finish line in a time of 19:27, good enough for 8^th overall, only one thing mattered.

The Bear was behind me.

I can tell you for sure I do not wish to ever be that Bear.  I met the runner underneath, a 2:31 Marathoner, and when he took the suit off after just 3 miles of running, he looked like he was fresh from the ocean. Fantastic work, Bill! Also kudos to young Jaison who finished fourth overall.

While this concluded my racing activities for the weekend, it did not conclude the fun. I got to spend the remainder of the day at the Georgia expo, being inspired by runners and hopefully inspiring a few along the way. I had more than a handful of friends competing in the marathon and half-marathon. A particularly and uncharacteristically warm and sticky March day in Atlanta had many pushing their own boundaries.  Some more than surprised themselves with their efforts and left me in awe.  I would have melted in this type of weather and many of them stepped up their game.

During my speech, I had been asked if I thought my goal for the 100 miler the week before had been to high.  I said if I try to reach something I know I can reach it isn’t a goal but an inevitability. Goals are meant to be hard to attain, otherwise there is no point in having them.

I think many on this day felt the same way.

The Bangla-Dash

Being in the position I am, I run across more people than you can imagine who are taking on challenges, raising money for some reputable charity or pushing their limits. I wish I could just do a download of all of them onto my website and say "Check this out and this out and this out!"  Unfortunately, if I did (or even had the time to do so) my page would be nothing but links. However, once in a while something clicks which I have to share.

As you are aware, I am running 350 miles in 7 days on the Oregon Coast. The other day i received this email:

"Dear Dane,

My name is Chris Hesse, you probably don't remember me.  I first met you when we shook hands as I stumbled across the finish line of the Drake Well Marathon in 09.  (The hills, humidity and heat held me back that day!)  Our paths crossed once again in San Francisco for the SF marathon.  We chatted briefly at the expo and you blew by me at around mile 22!  (I think you were wearing a skirt?!)  [Dane note: We was right. I was wearing a Running Skirt to support my friends at runningskirts.com. Or so I claim.]

Anyhow, I am teaming up with an Aussie and we are running from Kolkata, India to Dhaka, Bangladesh.  It's around 180 miles and we plan to do it in four days.  It's not the running, but the cause that we are running for that is the big thing.  We are trying to build and support at least two schools in both Dhaka and rural Bangladesh.  If you could see what life is like here you would be blown away.

The story is pretty interesting, our training/runs are insane and it's all for a good cause.  Anyhow, if you have time, check out our website  for more information."

Well, I did and I think you should too.  Given the similarity of what we are doing in terms of miles and hoping to help the youth of this world, I felt it was kismet Chris wrote to me.  As such, I wanted to share this story so you can see it and read more about it.

Chris and his running friend are indeed doing what they can to make a positive change in the world.  I hope you do so as well.