Quad Cities Marathon Recap

A Runner's Ramblings: Volume 8; 21st Edition 
1 mile skied, 2750 meters swam, 48 miles biked and 316.2 miles run in 2013 races
Race: Quad Cities Marathon
Place: Moline, IL
Miles from home: 1960 miles
Weather: 60s; bright sunshine

Writing this recap of the Quad Cities Marathon as it is a single race wouldn’t really do it justice. It was, more accurately, the final stage of my Dane to Davenport which I had started on the Wednesday prior.  But as I am not quite ready to go into detail about that 160ish mile run just yet, I will treat this recap as a separate entity with a nod to the warm-up prior to it. Consider it nodded.

Race Morning:

I can count on one hand the number of times in 145 marathons run where I was even remotely close to not wanting to run a marathon as I was when I woke up the morning of this race. I was wrung out. I was sick. I did not want to leave the bed. Whether it was illness brought on from being tired or exhaustion brought on from being sick, I know it took everything I had to get out of the hotel.  A little bit of dry-heaving seconds before I left definitely did little to persuade me.It also surprised the heck out of me. All I had was my usual strawberry milk and my body was rejecting it.

I found myself walking to the start with my expansive and numerous crew for the Dane to Davenport (my best friend, Shannon.) She was also running the marathon after safely helping me navigate my run and I can only imagine how tired she was. After making sure I got to the finish line of my 3-day trek, with just as little sleep as I had, all while tending ot every need I had, I knew she wasn't at her best either. But in spite of a bad foot, a week's worth of travel, and ushering me around the expo for both a book signing and a speech the night before the race, she was heading out the door.

We parted ways at the corrals and I tried to steady myself for the upcoming 26.2.  Could I do it in roughly a Boston Qualifying time? Would it take me north of four hours to traverse the course or would I be somewhere in between? I really and truly had no idea what to expect.

First Six Miles: 8:23, 7:42, 8:16, 7:37, 8:22, 7:56

If you don’t know about the Quad Cities Marathon you should really learn about it. It is truly a one of a kind race that needs to be run if you are a running aficionado. 4 cities, 3 bridges, 2 states, and 1 island, all along the mighty Mississippi River.  It starts off with the first of these bridges in the first mile as you leave Moline, IL and head over to Bettendorf, IA. Here the largest of the not-so-numerous and far-from large hills await you. I was far from feeling well but after a few miles and a few hills, I hadn’t gotten any worse so that was a positive. While the starting temperature might have been in the 50s, there was not a single cloud in the sky.  It was going to be an absolutely beautiful first day of fall, which means it was going to be far too warm for me running.

After a few ups and downs of hills, we found ourselves heading back to the Mississippi to run one of the very few miles of this great river which runs east to west.  It is rather disconcerting for many who think of the Mississip as being north-south only. Personally, I needed a bathroom and wasn’t too keen on observing anything but where those wonderful blue oases might be located. During my run to Davenport I had randomly seen a portapotty on the side of the road and tried to use it. A padlock on the door kept me from doing so and I decided right there that was the cruelest thing I had ever seen in my life.

Running a pace much slower than normal for me, I was experiencing a totally different race. I describe this phenomenon of how two runners on the same race on the same day can experience two completely separate races in my book. Here, I was experiencing just that.  While the portapotties were very plentiful, I was always getting to them right as another person was entering one or I could see they were already occupied. When you are one of the first runners and nature calls, this is not a concern.  This was different.
Finally, around the 5th mile, a free bathroom awaited me.  I far from hurried as I did my best to do what was necessary and also use it as a respite from my exhaustion.  I was already drenched in sweat and it wasn’t even 60 degrees yet. I was curious if I could peel off at the halfway point and plead my case to the race directors at the end to give me a half finish and not a marathon DNF.

Mt. Nebo Half Marathon Recap

A Runner's Ramblings: Volume 8; 20th Edition 
1 mile skied, 2750 meters swam, 48 miles biked and 290 miles run in 2013 races
Race: Mt. Nebo Half Marathon
Place: Payson, UT
Miles from home: 820 miles
Weather: 60s; bright sunshine

Mt. Nebo is the highest mountain in the Wasatch Mountain range. While the half marathon doesn't start at its peak, it sure does feel like it. Without a doubt, the half marathon (and the marathon) both have a benefit of a seemingly ridiculous amount of downhill. While running a downhill race conveys somewhat of an advantage, I strongly feel that advantage lessens as the distance of the race increases. Once you hit thirteen miles of mostly downhill, the advantage of the downhill is more or less leveled by the ferocious pounding that your legs take. If you run into some surprise uphill in the last 5k, well, that is another story altogether.

Race Morning:

As with virtually every long-distance race in Utah, the morning of the race begins with an extremely early wake-up call and then a bus ride to the start. While my previous weekend's racing had been very warm, this weekend was supposed to dip in temperature a bit. Plus, as we would be starting at 8,000 feet, in the shadow of mountains, the air would be even cooler. The only question remained was how long it would remain so.

Approximately 600 people were in a small field with barrels of fire burning to keep the slight nip away from them. I personally did not think that 50 degrees (my guess at the temperature) required it but some were dressed like it was winter. I chatted with my good friend Chris (Vanilla Bear) and his wife (Mrs. Bear) and another friend Rebecca who was kind enough to visit me at the expo the day prior. We made small talk, laughed at some absurdities of some runners, and just bided (bode?) time until we headed from the field to the small road and black mat in the middle of the road which served as our starting line.

It was no secret I was hoping for a new personal best in spite of a year that put enough obstacles in my way to make that pretty much an impossibility.  Nevertheless, I remained a relatively strong downhill runner and I wanted to take a crack at what was my oldest personal best.

My half-marathon PR was set over five years ago at a race where I was in shape to run fast but on a course that had obviously been long. That race has gnawed at me every since and the opportunity to break a new PR was here. I would give it all I had. Admittingly, I knew I was not in the shape to run as fast as I want and I felt the amount of downhill in this race, while helpful, would actually detract from running the fastest one could.

I am going to break down this race into three parts.  I think there are three distinct and separate portions of this race and there is an approach to each section that will assuredly help you run a new half-marathon personal best.

First Four Miles: 5:48, 5:49, 5:55, 5:55

Right out of the chutes a few runners took off and I could tell they were just going to be flying. I was very jealous as while I don't think I could have hung with the overall winner, the next three or four were definitely in my range of what I could run. But I was here to run what was possible today, not some hypothetical possibility. I knew the first three or four miles would tell me if I was even going to attempt a PR today and I anxiously awaited the mile markers.

As the marathon was run on the same course we would encounter the marathons mile markers .1 of a mile before we would run past the half-marathon mile marker. I loved this. It gave us another marker upon which to test our pace. Without any doubt the downhill was assisting in getting me out to a fast start and after the second mile mirrored the first mile's split I felt I might have a shot today at something special.

As this beginning section of four miles is going to be where your legs are the most fresh, it is really an opportunity to open it up a bit. Not too much, as the elevation of 8,000 feet will keep your lungs from allowing you to go out too fast, but enough to make it burn a bit. I could tell I was racing and not just running as many others post-race were talking about how beautiful the scenery was and how much they enjoyed this or that. I saw none of this. All I saw was an imaginary blue line cutting the tangents of every road as I laser-focused my eyes on the next mile marker ahead.

The third mile marker was off a touch but when the next one made up the difference I simply took the average of the two miles. With all of the first four miles under a six minute pace, I knew I had a shot at cracking my personal best. But the first four miles would be the easiest. I knew the next six would contain slightly less downhill, a flat portion and more than few turns.

Layton Half Marathon Recap

A Runner's Ramblings: Volume 8; 19th Edition 
1 mile skied, 2750 meters swam, 48 miles biked and 276.9 miles run in 2013 races
Race: Layton Half Marathon
Place: Layton, UT
Miles from home: 739 miles
Weather: 70s; bright sunshine

The Layton Half Marathon (and all its other races)  is put on by On Hill Events and Joe Cole. I had previously done my first ever duathlon as one of the On Hill events back in 2011. Given how well the Legacy Duathlon was run, it gave me hope that the Layton Half Marathon would be run very much the same way.

As the race would begin at 7 a.m. and we had to be bused out to the start, it called for one of my most favorite things in the world: early morning wake up!  YAY! Honestly, if there is ever a study which fully explains why some people simply cannot function in the mornings, I would like to take part in it so I can figure out why I love the night so much more.

Arriving at the bus pickup around 5:45 a.m. to catch the last shuttle I saw a long line of people. I found out the buses were running a little behind.  I hopped in line with a friend and tried to kill some time. It wasn't even remotely out of completely darkness yet and it was already 70 degrees. This was going to be a warm one.

Once we were finally on the buses, we were treated (if that is the right word) to one of the chattiest bus drivers in the history of bus driverdom. A stream of consciousness seemed to come over the driver and since she had control over the PA system, we were powerless to not listen.  Every extra sentence about something out in the pitch black which we were supposed to look at or how we were not supposed to forget to check our "shorty shorts" for keys and phones we had on us when we got off the bus, made it all the more hilarious.

While the eventual start of the race would be delayed by some 20 minutes to make sure that all participants would arrive, have time to use the bathroom and get lined up, most of the participants were in a good mood. We would have liked to start before the sun peaked up over the Wasatch Mountains but alas. I had outfitted myself with no only a pair of Julbo sunglasses but my Timex visor. I knew that the vast majority of this race would be running due east - right into the teeth of the rising sun. I came prepared.

One last knock on the portapotty doors by the RD to make sure all were out and we were off.

First 5k: 6:22, 6:39, 6:52

Out of the blocks, two runners took off. I knew the runners and knew I would not be competing with them today. Adios, fastleggers. The remaining handful of runners, however, I did not know and would spend the next few miles feeling out.

At one point, a runner went blazing out in front of me from behind. I have no idea why he was behind me but I had a feeling I wouldn't catch him. His bright pink shoes made quite a statement. One guy behind me said something akin to "If you run that fast you can wear any damn color you want." I agreed.

My first two miles were right around what I wanted to run for the day.  My third was a bit slower. The sun was fully over the mountains and even though it was close to 75 degrees, I wasn't drenched like I would be in a normal humid place. Having said that, I could tell it was more humid than normal as we ran over the causeway from severely misnamed Antelope Island. (There are no antelope in the U.S., people.  They are pronghorns.  Same with Bison being called buffalo. Just stop it right now.)  I couldn't tell if it was because we were close to Great Salk Lake or if just because it was still August in the high desert and you are going to just be warm. Either way, this heat was going to slow many people this day.

To Sixth Mile: 6:49, 7:05, 7:03

The first four miles were run on the causeway as the sun steadily climbed over the mountains in front of us.  The shores of the Great Salt Lake can be a little smelly but one of the great things about being me is I have next to no sense of smell. It is my superpower. (I think I got shafted on superpowers.)

As we left the causeway, I had gained a little bit on one runner in front of me but could hear the footsteps of another behind me. Even though I felt like I had been picking up the pace over the next mile or so, I was slowing. That runner finally passed me.

With aid stations every even mile, I would slow a tad on the odd mile and gain a little bit of speed and energy with every drink. There was hardly a soul out spectating but the volunteers at the aid stations were plentiful and helpful. Nice cold power drink and water awaited runners as we continued on what was essentially a very flat course. Not only was it very flat, you also made very few turns. You could see your competitors in front of you even if they were half of a mile away. I like that. It gives me a chance to lock in on someone and do the best I can to reel them in.  I felt good again after slowing down a touch.


I then passed the guy who passed me and set my sights on the next runner in front.

To Mile Ten: 6:39, 6:57, 7:04, 7:22

Right after the 6th mile, I took a big gulp of water from the volunteer and felt absolutely fantastic. I ran what was my second fastest mile of the whole race and thought perhaps I just needed the usual six miles to get warmed up.  I passed the runner I had been trailing and could see another run waaaaay in the distance. I figured I might have a chance to catch him.

However, even though I put distance between the runners behind me and seemed to be gaining on the runner in front of me over the next few miles, I was slowing down again. My times again crept up and over seven minutes per and there wasn't much I could do about it. I noticed I was no longer sweating and had dried off  extensively. That is not a good thing. Dehydration had definitely set in.

As we approached the tenth mile I could see many runners in front of me.  I knew these were runners doing the 10k and from here on out I wouldn't be able to use my hearing to tell if someone was catching me.

Onto the Finish: 7:22, 7:23, 7:13, :40 

The course beg an a slight uphill climb for the last three miles and as I made a right angle turn I looked behind me to see if my pursuers were close enough to worry about.

They weren't.

I looked ahead of me at the guy I was pursuing to see if he had to worry about me.

He didn't.

So I was just in this position of being what I thought was fourth place, running a time that wasn't what I want.  Runningwise it was not exactly a good day. But as for enjoying the day, I was.

I used the 10k runners to help boost my runner's ego and energy as I passed them. My 11th and 12th miles were far too slow for my tastes but I wasn't losing ground to anyone. I walked through the aid station and gulped one big glass of water and another of power drink. Within seconds of beginning to run I was sweating again. It was like my throat was tied directly to my sweat glands on my skin.

I could see the park finish way up ahead and tried to pick up the pace a bit to get under 1:31.  As the clock came into focus, I could see it wasn't going to happen.  So, I slowed and waved to the cheering crowds who were so kind to be out here applauding all the runners coming in.

I crossed the line in 1:31:35. Within seconds I was handed a printout of my finish time and place. It said I finished third. I couldn't figure out how that was possible. Later, it was revealed to me that the pink shoed runner who has passed me early in the race had been one of the marathoners. Because of our delayed start it had given him just enough time to catch us and go on by virtually every other runner. He crushed the course record in a time of 2:46.  His name is JD Nielson and it was just his second marathon ever. So not only was I happy for him I was happy I had at least snuck in a 3rd place finish.

That just goes to show you how fleeting and lucky "placing" can be.  If just a few people show up who are faster than you, you get nothing.  If you have a slightly bad day, those who are usually slower than you will beat you.  There are so many variables that it is hard to know what will happen on race day. I have won 3 marathons in my life. All three were just luck of the draw. In fact, my fastest marathon win is only my 22nd fastest marathon ever.

My point is that the race should be about much more than your time and place. It is about what you gain from the experience.  It is about the friends you make and the camaraderie of the day. Sure, running fast is fun but so is realizing how luck you are to be out there on race day.

Cheers for friends, like my buddy Katie Kramer who won the marathon for the second straight year in virtually the exact same time. Or 55 year old Bryan who I first met at the Little Grand Canyon Marathon four years ago and crushed another strong marathon finish. Or all the others I met and hope to stay in touch with as we put more and more races under our belts.

As I go for a new half-marathon personal best this weekend I am going to try my best to remember all of those. I might forget them in the moment but I have a feeling they will come back to me after the race. You know, when sanity creeps back in.

Competitor Group Nixes Elite Program

If you haven't heard by now, the Competitor Group, which owns the ubiquitous Rock N Roll Racing Series, has abruptly ended its support of elite athlete fields in North American events.  I, for one, am completely unsurprised by this turn of events. I also am far from outraged as some people seemed to be.

Why am I not bothered? Well, it is Competitor's decision to do what they wish to do with their own races. They are a business about making money and providing an environment that will make sure that happens. They know what is making them money and what is not.  For the most part, supporting elites was not making them money. Producing cookie-cutter events that cater to the new runners and for those for whom simply finishing a 13.1 or 26.2  mile distance is a unique and exhausting challenge does. So they went with what brought home the bacon.

What does it signify for elite running? Well, it shows something I actually have stated many times and have benefited from personally: a large majority of runners do not know or care about the elites or the storied history of their sport.

The most wonderful and most limiting thing about long-distance running is that, for the most part, it is a participatory sport and not a spectator sport. This trickles down to how most of the participants view what is going on during race weekend at Rock N Roll events. The expo, the race, and the post-event blinging is all about the achievements of those who have put in the sweat and tears. Those who have worked hard to put themselves on the starting line sometimes do not want to be reminded how infinitely slower they are than the seemingly other-worldly talented elites.

Armchair quarterbacks and YMCA basketball gym heroes all think that if not for a slight tweak here and there, they may have been able to play in the NFL or NBA. Runners rarely have that delusion. If you have run a 1:30 half marathon you know you are nearly two minutes per mile slower than the elites in the sport.  That is humbling. It is also unavoidable in its complete absoluteness. You are a runner. You are strong. You have some speed. But you will never, ever, ever (Taylor Swift "ever") going to be paid to run.

I say I have benefited from this because in a bygone era there were next-to-no four-hour marathon finishers. Virtually everyone who ran recreationally as an adult had already competed in high school or college. They were all pretty damn fast. But with the advent of more of the "finishers" of races, small niches were created for people who were not exactly "fast" (re: me) to fill that allowed them to share their race experiences. I gladly fill that niche and do so unabashedly. (Granted, I know I have done some things which even those who are much faster couldn't or haven't done so I am not necessarily a back-of-the-packer.)

I completely understand why Competitor is doing what they are doing. In addition, having dealt with certain members of the higher echelon of the company (and done so distastefully), I am in no way shocked that the decisions were made that were made, even if I do not fully know the exact reasons why they were done. I have run some Rock N Roll races. Some are good, some are bad. None have been "great."

Does this decision signify the end of the support of elite athletes in running events? Well, it definitely shows Competitor doesn't care anymore. But that is where other sizable races could pick up the slack. Make the event about both participation and spectating. Capitalize on the recent rebirth of elite American running.  (I have lots of ideas how that could be done but I am definitely not sharing them for free.)

Regardless, Competitor seems to have been digging its own grave as of late. More and more mishandled race. Tons of vocal unhappy runners. Seeming over-expansion. Relying too much on the "music" aspect when most who want it carry their own music with them. Is this just more of the same?

Of course there are always new runners who will run their races because of the catering to the "experience."  But with what seems to be a slow eroding of public interest, perhaps Competitor was simply looking at is bottom line. It is a business after all, regardless of how much runners sometimes like to think it is all about community.

Perhaps I actually am bothered by the decision.  I am just pragmatic enough to realize why the decision was made. But as with anything, if you are bothered, you can speak most loudly with your time and money.  Don't run the races. Don't volunteer. (That is where the biggest threat could be made.  If local running groups pull back their volunteers, the series would collapse faster than a house of cards in a hurricane.)

Or, and I highly suggest this, learn about the history of your sport. Become more involved in knowing how and why running is where it is today. Look outside of your own running someday. You will be surprised how exciting the sport of running is when it is no longer just about your finishing time.

Perhaps the sport can be both participatory and spectator-friendly but it will take the 40 million people who call themselves runners in America to make that happen.

Imagine the possibilities.

Fast is Fun

This is an older article which I used to help kick off a chapter in my latest book, 138,336 Feet to Pure Bliss. I decided to reprint it as I think given an article I read in a recent issue of Running Times really seemed to echo its sentiments.

A wonderful thing has been happening in the past decade or so: Americans are running. From 5Ks on up to the marathon and beyond, the nation is experiencing a running boom unlike no other. The American elite are winning or at least in the argument for winning marathons while further on down the ladder, runners fill the ranks from age group aces to weekend walkers. I have been very fortunate to become friends with some of the legends in the sport while also counting among my friends those who are just happy to finish a marathon under six hours. In doing so, I have noticed something surprising: a slight backlash against those who run fast.

“I run to enjoy myself and do not care about the time on the clock,” is the crux of the argument against going faster or harder. Well, that is why I run, too.  But I race for an entirely different reason. I am usually met with silence when I ask why bother even showing up for a race when a run by one’s self should create the same enjoyment. Silence is fine. I know the answer.

We all enjoy accolades. Do an 18-mile training run and no one at work cares that much. Run in the half-marathon race lined with bands, and bring home a shiny medal, and you receive mounds of attention.

Which leads to the obvious: Everyone wishes they could run faster, if even just a little bit. But why? Well, because the truth of the matter is that running fast is fun. I enjoy the leisurely pace of a long run with friends as much as the next person in short shorts and racing flats.

No, it is not that running fast goes against the enjoyment of the sport. Running fast, by whatever definition “fast” is to each individual runner, is what makes the sport what it is. That temporary flight that separates us from our grounded brethren is what drives us all.

Embrace your wings, unabashedly so.

America's Finest City Half Marathon Recap

A Runner's Ramblings: Volume 8; 18th Edition 
1 mile skied, 2750 meters swam, 48 miles biked and 263.8 miles run in 2013 races
Race: America's Finest City Half Marathon
Place: San Diego, CA
Miles from home: 1087 miles
Weather: 60-70s; overcast, humid

A last minute addition to my schedule, the AFC Half was a race I ran back in 2009.  Hard to believe it had been four years since I had been there but time really does fly by the older you get. Even though I was signed up to run the race I have much bigger fish to fry in the next few weeks (specifically my Dane to Davenport) so I couldn't let this make me deviate from my schedule to much.. Originally I had planned on doing something close to 18 miles on Saturday and then 15 on Sunday.  So when I changed my schedule to include this race I had to figure out something else.  Fortunately, my host for the week and her friends told me about their running group who were doing anything from 15-24 on Saturday morning. Perfect!

The group was very welcoming with some going for sub-3 hour marathons later this fall, some training for longer events and everyone being quite fast. I haven't run with a group in Portland yet and given my travel schedule when I lived in Salt Lake City I didn't run with my club there as much as I liked but I still remembered the camaraderie of running with people who know your story.  They might not even know what you do for a living or exactly what other aspects other friends know but they have traded sweat on hard miles in bad conditions and someone knows much more about you that way than most others.

The only problem with getting a long run in on Saturday was that I needed to be at the expo shortly after 10 a.m.  I was graciously invited to do a book signing out of the Moving Shoes running store booth, which I shared with running great Meb Keflezighi. Meb is a partial owner in the store and was signing his own book. We spoke very briefly and he seems as genuine and humble as he does in front of the cameras and in interviews.  As I have stated before, often the faster you get, the more you realize how lucky you are to run that fast regardless of hard work and persistence.

So, while I would have liked to get a few more miles in, the 15 I was able to get was perfect. I figured a nice good paced 15 plus a hard run 13.1 the next day would make up for the small loss of total planned miles.

Of course, even though I ran those 15 miles and got next to no sleep over the days leading up to the race doesn’t mean I still wouldn’t throw logic aside and not want to run as fast as I could. Fortunately, in the race on Sunday it took me only a few miles to realize that I wasn’t going to be running that fast.

Marathon Recovery Techniques

I wrote an article for Running Times magazine a few years ago about recovering quickly from a marathon.  I have been asked by some to repost that article for others to read. And look at that, I was talking about eating beef long before I began working with various beef councils across the United States!

A marathon-a-week runner reveals his short-term recovery secrets

By

Dane Rauchenberg

Published

June 1, 2008

Having run a marathon, you should be able to kick back for a few weeks and enjoy some downtime, right? However, by the same token, if you've just trained hard and run a 26.2-miler, chances are you're not of the type who enjoys resting on your laurels.

In addition, it only takes so many "How long was this marathon?" comments from well-meaning NRFs ("Non-Running Friends") to remind you why you go on a run to avoid them in the first place.
So what to do? Even the most ardent multiple marathon runners know that the body has just been put through the metaphoric ringer and rest is needed. But that knowledge does not satiate the desire to lace up the shoes and hit the roads/trails/treadmill as soon as possible.

In 2006, I ran a full marathon every weekend. As such, I underwent a self-imposed crash course in recovery techniques using myself as the guinea pig. While most runners will not need to know how to get from one 26.2-miler to the next in a single week, that does not lessen their desire to recover and feel like a runner again. Therefore, I have taken what I learned to offer up four recovery techniques to help get you out running again.

Go For a (Short) Run

What and why: We have all heard how you should keep moving and not sit down immediately after finishing a marathon. I feel this theory extends to the next few days as well. Providing gentle blood flow to sore areas not only helps bring nutrients that heal into the muscles, but also assists in moving out the waste products and damaged tissue, and that serves to reduce post-race soreness. While work obligations and the normal life I led during the weekdays in 2006 took its toll on me, I know I never would have made it through the year if I had not been out running, even if just for 15 to 20 minutes at a snail's pace, the day after each and every marathon.
More insight: Jim Hage, a 2:15 marathoner and one of only two men to win back-to-back Marine Corps Marathons, attests to a primary recovery method called "Hair o' the Dog." While he agrees rest is vitally important, he believes getting back out there is important, too. "It's a major psychological boost to keep moving rather than atrophy mentally and physically. Sort of like having a cold; I generally feel worse if I give in and feel sorry for myself."
One of Marathonguide.com's top marathoners of 2006, Mike Aldrink of Columbus, Ohio, concurs. Moreover, the psychological boost he receives from not remaining sedentary is quite high, even if he only goes for a short, slow jog.
Plus: Remember, Dick Beardsley went for a nice easy run the day after his infamous Duel in the Sun with Alberto Salazar at the scorching 1982 Boston Marathon.

Take An Ice Bath

What and why: The basic theory of an ice bath is that the freezing water will constrict the blood vessels in your legs, reducing swelling. Once you leave the icy coffin and warm your legs, the ensuing blood flow will deliver fresh oxygen to the muscle cells, helping the cells repair the damage done from the exertion during the race. I personally do not subscribe to the idea but it definitely works for some.

More insight: Even more important than scientific research is real-world applicability. Renowned ultramarathoner Lisa Smith-Batchen swears by the ice bath as the quickest way to allow her to feel like a runner again. For someone who has run the 135-mile Badwater race through Death Valley, climbed 14,505-foot Mt. Whitney, turned around and run back again, her words deserve credence. Despite the benefits, she admits getting into a cold bath isn't exactly comforting. "To be honest, it is so hard for me to just jump in the ice bath," she says. "I personally sit in the bath and start with luke warm water and then run only cold water until the bath is cold."
Plus: Terrell Hale, a sports massage therapist in Rockville, Md., who worked on athletes in the 2004 Athens Olympics, also prescribes a dip into an ice bath "as soon as possible after a marathon" as one of the quickest roads to recovery.

Eat Right

What and why: Whether you are a multiple-finisher or a first-time survivor, the urge to scarf down lots of yummy but horrible food is almost too much to bear. And, to some extent, you have earned the right to do so. But remember, the body is in desperate need of repair after the rigors of a marathon and its immune system is at its weakest. So eating a gooey cheeseburger and French fries from a fast-food restaurant or munching down a full bag of Doritos isn't the best thing you can do for yourself. You will recover best by giving your souped-up engine the proper fuel it needs.
More insight: Don't let up on your carb intake just because you're done with the marathon. Your body needs to refuel and rebuild cells in the hours and days after the race, so eat plenty of whole grains and fruits and vegetables. But also be sure to take in adequate amounts of protein -- from meat, fish, dairy products, beans, soy or legumes -- to help repair broken down muscle fibers. Also, focus on foods and juices high in potassium, such as bananas, orange juice, milk, raisins, baked potatoes or squash, and try to replace your electrolyte losses with a few sodium-rich foods.
Plus: Ultrarunner Dean Karnazes says that two things which really help him are to supplement his already healthy diet with Arnica montana (oral tablets; not rub) and to rehydrate using a recovery drink with a high carb/protein ratio such as Accelerade.

Get a Massage

What and why: Getting a quick rub-down immediately after finishing a marathon feels great, but getting a sports massage 24 to 48 hours after your run will help flush your body of the excessive amounts of lactic acid and muscle waste that your body continues to produce in the hours and days after your marathon. It's hard to know for sure whether I would have done all 52 marathons at the pace I did in 2006 without them, but I know they helped immensely. I have come to realize massages are not just a "treat" but are a necessity to good health and fast recovery.
More insight: Make sure the masseuse knows not to rub too deeply. The muscles in your legs are already tender as it is and a deep-tissue massage may do more harm than good. Hale suggests regular massage throughout a training cycle. Not only does massage facilitate greater recovery and help prevent injury, but the training schedule of each individual runner will inform how and when the massage is done.
Plus: The combination of consistent massages and day-after jogs got me through the year. The massages

helped repair the damage done to my body and the short runs helped keep me sane. Without both, I sincerely doubt my endeavor would have been as successful as it was.

Will these things work for you? Hopefully, but remember that no two runners are the same, so the best way to find out what works for you is to experiment. That's what I did, and for me, the proof was in the end results. When all was said and done, I averaged 3:29 per marathon for the first half of the year and sped up to a 3:13 for the second half -- all while my PR was 3:07.

I guess if running is the addiction, I don't want the cure. I just want to make sure I recover properly so I can keep at it.

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!

Karhu Fluid3 Fulcrum Review

Having a partnership with a shoe company has many perks.  One of them is getting advance "copies" of shoes to go on test runs. This can be bad, as I learned previously with another shoe company, as you basically become a guinea pig for prototypes. However, with Karhu, who has been in the shoe business for decades, I love being able to pull out a pair of shoes few have worn and go see what they can do with no worries. That said, as with everything I try, talk about or review, you know it doesn't matter if the product was given to me for free, you will still get my honest opinion. Which is why you will probably be happy to hear that I think the Fluid3 Fulcrum is pretty fantastic.


(And if you stick around to the end of this review, I have a 15% off code for you to use! Exciting!)


I recently read a review of the Karhu Flow 3 Trainer that was quite thorough. I love the Trainer and have worn them in most of my recent races. I just hadn't written a review like about them yet, and after reading his, I don't have to do so - it nails all the things I feel.  But above and beyond talking about the shoe, the reviewer mentioned things that, for the most part, I don't care about. More accurately, they are things I do not think about at first but when pointed out, I think "Yeah, that is pretty cool." Things like the packaging and the slogans and the history of the company which come in pamphlets in the box. Well, since I read that review I started to start noticing those things.


So fresh out of the box, the new Karhu Fluid3 is just snazzy.  Gone are the days when just adding a bright color will make a shoe stand out. As such, somehow, even though the color is a bit eye-popping, it is not  too much of the "Hey, look at my new shoes!"

Sliding them on, they just felt nice.  Then again, new shoes always feel like Christmas. However, wit hthe Fluid3, there was something about the way the tongue of the shoe was structured that it just felt nice and snug. I coudn't notice anything off the top from its appearance that would clue me into to the fit.  I just knew I couldn't wait to give them a test run (or five.)

My intention before writing this review was to try them on some different terrain and over numerous distances and speeds. As such, I did a double digit mile run with them on all pavement, another double digit mile run on a mixture of pavement, soft trail and grass, a track workout and finally a nice 6 mile tempo run.  I figured that was more than enough variance to form an opinion.

I noticed right away that the shoes felt just a touch heavier than the Flow3 I had been running in.  Turns out, the Flow3 is 8.6 ounces (for a size 10.5) and the Fluid3 is 8.9 ounces (for a size 11).  A whopping .3 ounces and my feet could tell the difference. Also, as there were limited models I actually wore a size 11 for the Fluid3 and didn't notice any difference. I might actually have sized up a little bit after 145 marathons.  My uterus didn't fall out but I lengthened my feet. Go figure.

The Fluid3 performed admirably on all fronts. While not sold as a trail shoe and the trails I were running on were extremely light on the "trail" side of things, I didn't notice any marked difference in my performance. Same to say with the track workout.  Normally, I would go with a lighter show like the Karhu Flow Light which Runner's World just reviewed in its latest issue. Nevertheless, they were just as quick to respond to the rubberized track in a set of 400s as they were on all the other runs.  In fact, the first run I did in them was after I finished my Spudman triathlon, drove 8 hours home and ran the next morning.  The shoes felt so nautral and right that I kept forgetting that I was supposed to be paying attention to them in order to review them.

Honestly, if "never once thought about my feet" is the worst thing that gets said about a pair of shoes, then you have got yourself a winner. And that would be about the worst I could say about these shoes. They hugged my foot, yet gave it ample room.  The upper felt light and airy and when you sweat like I do, you want as much coolant as possible.  The fulcrum that Karhu has made famous has been toned down from previous models but still gives you as a runner the being-propelled feeling. I remember reading "I simply can't run slow in Karhus" and I would have to agree.

The Fluid3 are not necessarily for those who need stability as they are fitted more for neutral runners but I wouldn't be surprised if those who over-pronate a touch wouldn't find them to give them the support they need. Lots of negative in that sentence so let me clarify: these might just be for all kinds of runners. (For much more about the tech specs for the Fluid3 make sure to either click on the picture above or scoot on over to Karhu's website and read more.)

All told, it is a really solid shoe. I have already put close to 100 miles on it and plan on getting many more out of it by the time I am done.

In addition, as promised, if you use the code "SEEDANERUN" on Karhu's website, Karhu will automatically knock off 15% whopping percent from your purchase. You can also use that code at Karhu's parent site, Craft, which makes awesome running apparel as well.

This is the review that just keeps on giving! Thank me later when you are crushing new PRs in your Fluid3.

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.