Help In the Nick of Time - Speakers Corner

The Heart of running; Running with Heart

2012-01-31T21:58:00.003-05:00

It’s common knowledge that running, and exercise in general, is supposed to be good for your heart. I have always been a fan of the theory that if a little is good for you, a lot must be even better (although I have had a few hangovers that would seem to argue the point).

Yet every year a number of marathon runners collapse from heart attacks during races. A recent study in NE Journal of Medicine shows that in a race of 100,000 marathoners 1 will collapse of a heart attack. In the last 10 years in the US, 40 marathoners have had heart failure and 71% did not survive. In 2009 3 runners died in the Detroit Marathon. There’s 5 times the odds it will be a man than a woman and you have a greater chance of surviving over 50 years old than if you are younger than 40. Regardless of your training every marathoner will suffer some impact to their heart during the race. I view it as one of life ironies that doing something that is supposed to extend your life actually shortens it. But it takes more than a strong heart to make it through a marathon.

Running a marathon is as much, if not more, mental as physical. Regardless of training, health, or race day sustenance, when you reach the 18 mile mark your body has pretty much run out of fuel and your shoes have lost any remaining cushioning. It can feel like the runner next to you has jumped on your back, that someone has shortened all the muscles in your legs, and with each downhill stride someone if pounding nails into your thighs. Oh yeah….and at Boston you are right in the middle of the 5 miles of uphill aptly called Heartbreak Hill.

Unless you are into self flagellation it’s about this point that every marathoner will ask themselves “Why the he!! am I doing this?”. Once this doubt creeps in the battle shifts from being primarily physical to substantially mental. With every stride your legs are lobbying with your brain to stop and with each new mile more and more body parts join the chorus.

Some believe that what keeps most runners going is their mental strength. I think that helps but I believe it’s more, it’s a runners Heart. Every runner has his/her own reasons for strapping on their shoes and heading out the door to train for a marathon. For some it is about health, some changing their lives or dealing with life changing events, some are running for others, and still others are running for time and glory. And then there are the ones who lost a bet or took a dare (they are the ones keeping the mental health industry in business).

For thousands of runners at the starting line in Hopkinton their reason, their Heart, comes from not just running for themselves but for doing it to help others. For those spectators who are part of the marque de Sade school of marathon watching, choosing to view the race from Heartbreak Hill, they may be able to pick out these charity runners. They will look as tired and in pain as the others but there will be that slightly lighter spring in their step and maybe the smallest of smiles mixed with their grimace. Running to help others and with the support of those that have donated to their effort can help them more than any pair of elite shoes or fancy energy drinks.

And when they hit “the Wall” on Heartbreak Hill, they will be the ones that have the Heart to break the hills (yeah I know it’s corny).

God willing, I will be there, running for Help in the Nick of Time again this year.

Top 10 Reasons to run another Boston Marathon

2012-01-08T19:14:00.004-05:00

It that time of year again when the normally sane become the temporarily insane as they start the serious training for the Boston Marathon. Of course I’m right there with them again this year.

What makes 26,000 runners train hours/week through the dead of winter to be on the starting line in April? There are easily as many answers to this question as there are to the question “Why did the chicken cross the street?”. Unscientifically here are some of the best answers I’ve heard and some of my own personal ones.

10. Challenge Junkie – Some people just like the latest challenge. Marathon, Iron Man, Spartan Races, Ultra-marathons, etc. What makes Boston unique and more challenging among marathons is the requirement to run a qualifying marathon under a competitive time just to get the right to try and register. I know people who have completed Iron Man Triathlons who can’t qualify to run Boston.

9. Keep my streak going – As of the end of last year’s Boston Marathon there are 46 individuals that have done 25 or more Boston Marathons in a row. Two of these mega-marathoners live in my town of North Andover. Tom Licciardello, whose daughter ran with my daughter, has completed 35 in a row. Other than staying married I can’t think of anything of significance I have done for 35 years in a row. The other is Dave McGillivray who in fact has become the race director for the Boston Marathon. Dave has completed 39 in a row, completing his first when he was 17 years old. Given all things that can go wrong leading up to race day these accomplishments are simply amazing. BTW…John A. Kelly started the race 61 times (not in a row) and finished all but three. He won twice and even after 50 he still had a finish in the top 10. To put that in perspective, the top finisher in 2011 over 50 years old didn’t make the top 100 finishers.

8. It’s on the bucket list – If you are a runner with a bucket list then likely the Boston Marathon is on it. Last year 81 year old Clarence Hartley checked that box after surviving two wars and a bout with cancer a few years earlier. I’ve met runners who have been fortunate enough to get a number to run Boston from a charity (doesn’t require a qualification time) and they view it as their first and only marathon. Frankly, once you’ve done Boston, why would you want to do any other?

7. In Memory - Events that cause us to rethink priorities such as surviving a major illness, a brush with death, or the loss of a loved one can drive people to reevaluate their life priorities, look for new meaning in their life or want to do something special in memory. I was running before my son Nick passed away but his death clearly changed my motivations and created an opportunity to help others and keep his memory alive.

6. ”It sounded like a good idea at the time” – I’m surprised at the number of times I hear this story. For guys it usually involves alcohol, a whole bunch of competitive testosterone, and frequently a bet. For gals it is frequently by one in a group of friends as a “fun” activity they could do together. Only first time marathoners would put fun and marathon in the same sentence. In most cases the runners end up being bandits (runners who do the race unofficially) with minimal training and a whole lot of pain on race day.
5. You don’t eat Weight-Watcher meals. When you are putting in 30-40+ miles a week your body becomes furnace that can consume even those chili cheese fries you ate last night. I love Ice Cream. If I wasn’t running I would be a candidate for the Biggest Loser reality TV show.

4. You are a lion or a gazelle – I love this quote (unknown source). "Every morning in Africa, a gazelle wakes up. It knows it must outrun the fastest lion or it will be killed. Every morning in Africa, a lion wakes up. It knows it must run faster than the slowest gazelle, or it will starve. It doesn't matter whether you're a lion or gazelle - when the sun comes up, you'd better be running." For those of us who have been infected by the marathon bug we often are.

3. To get Married – Getting married during marathons has become more common recently. In Boston it is often done at the top of Heart Break Hill. Given the name I wouldn’t choose it for the place to start my married life.

2. Your injuries generate interesting conversations – Nothing like missing toenails to start a conversation at the local gym or pool. Similar conversations can ensue when limping from blisters slightly smaller than the state of RI. And then there are bleeding nipples. On a long run one hot day a bloody streak down the front of my shirt caused a concerned driver to stop and ask if had been shot.

1. To help others – Last year charity runners for the official 24 race sponsored organizations raised over $10M. This doesn’t count the funds that are raised by other runners such as what I do for Help in the Nick of Time. There is no question that running Boston has its own personal rewards but nothing is more rewarding than knowing the effort is also helping someone else.
For me the decision is easy…the ability to eat what you want, the conversation starter of unusual injuries, the vehicle to make one day a year a special memorial to Nick and the opportunity to raise funds for someone desperately in need. Sounds like heaven to me.

Speaking of Help in the Nick of Time ( http://www.helpinthenickoftime.org/ ) we have made initial donations to help several families. You can read about it at the website.

Until next time….

What a makes a great Marathon Day??

2011-04-22T16:28:00.017-05:00

There are lots of people that might define a great marathon day as one where they sleep late, have a big breakfast, grab a cup of coffee (or maybe a beer), head down to the course, open up a lounge chair and watch the crazy runners go by. There were certainly a lot of those “non-runners” out there Monday and I have to say it was great to have them there. Boston spectators are not only the most marathon knowledgeable but they are also the most enthusiastic in supporting the runners. For me it was a great day but it certainly wasn’t because of a stellar running time. On the contrary, this was the slowest time in the last 4 years. But I’m getting ahead of myself. The day started at about 4:30 in the morning with a cup a tea, piece of raisin bread, a check to make sure I had my race number and race goodies and a quick dash to the car. Actually the hour didn’t matter much as most runners don’t sleep well the night before the race. It’s not that they are worried about winning (26,999 of us won’t), it’s really that so much has gone into getting to this point and so many things could go wrong on the day of the race that your mind is racing. Now if only my legs would do the same.

One of the first pleasures of the day was driving into Boston with Cyndi and Bill, a couple of marathon friends from our Lazarus House fund raising days. Some runners like to zone out and not be bothered. But Cyndi and Bill are the gregarious type and it helps to take the edge off your nerves to have someone who will commiserate about training in the winter weather, will pretend to listen when I complain about injuries, discuss strategy for the day and exchange stories about past efforts. Bill has done so many Boston’s they are thinking of naming one of the miles after him. Most runners take school buses out of Boston for the hour ride out to Hopkinton where they are dumped unceremoniously at the high school sports field. We on the other hand got to ride in style. Susan Hurley, who is not only a great marathoner but manages a number of teams of charity runners for the race, was able to get a comfortable bus that not only takes us to Hopkinton but stays at the school with us until we have to head down to the start. Her charity teams combined raised over $600K. That just blows me away.

As I’ve mentioned in previous years, the staging area at the school looks a bit like Woodstock. Thousands of runners scattered among practice fields, along walls

of the school and of course standing in line for the hundreds of porta potties. All trying to stay warm in the 40 degree weather as they wait hours for their turn to start. It part of the pre-race regiment that runners try to drink as much water as they can so they are fully saturated before the start of the race. As nature has proven, there is a direct correlation between what goes in and what comes out of a body so a big part of the pre-race waiting is also the porta potty visits (yes plural). Picture rows of porta potties lining the entire perimeter of a football field with dozens of runners standing in line at each. It’s never clear if the little dancing they are doing in line is nervous energy, keeping warm or a pressing need but watching thousands of runners doing the porta potty polka is quite a sight.

This year there were 3 separate starts 20 minutes apart and each consisting of 9000 runners. For each wave there were 9 corrals of 1000 runners each and your number determined your corral based on your qualifying time. Corral is the right term given we are all packed in like cattle. When it’s 20 minutes before your wave’s start time you take the half mile walk down to the starting corrals and wait for the gun. I was towards the back of my wave so I was about a quarter mile from the start and it took me exactly 10 minutes to get to the starting line. Each runner’s bib number has built into it an electronic key that matches their number. When they pass over the mats at the start, finish and every 5K in between the system records their number and their time. This way every runner gets their actual start to finish time. That extra quarter mile doesn’t mean much at the start but I would sure like to have it back at the finish. I wore a GPS watch this year because I wanted to see what my actual mileage was from the start to finish. The actual distance covered, including the weaving to get around slower runners or to detour to water stops was 26.5 miles.

My run started out pretty good. Cyndi and I ran the first couple of miles together before we became separated and the pace was perfect. Going into the race I had been having knee problems for a couple of months and hadn’t run anything more the 5 consecutive miles without walking. And with only one of my walk/run training runs over 13 miles I wasn’t sure how far my legs would go. What was clear from training was the faster I went, the sooner my knees went. If I went really slow the knees lasted longer but ultimately I would be out on the course a lot longer. I chose a hybrid of a measured pace with the assumption that if I got half way and was still running I could walk it in from there if necessary.

Water stops are one of the more entertaining parts of the race as runners scramble to get either water or Gatorade from volunteers lining both sides of the road. Picture a clover leaf on a highway where the on and off ramps cut across each other and where at any time one of the drivers might slam on their breaks in the middle of traffic to have a drink. There’s nothing more frustrating than to be cruising into a water stop ready to grab a water on the run and the person in front of you grabs a water and then just stops dead to drink it. Rookies. And of course once you have had your couple of sips the polite thing to do is find a clear spot around you and toss the mostly empty cup towards the side of the road. It’s a bummer when some less than considerate runner tosses a half filled cup of Gatorade directly into your face as you are passing by. If you haven’t had the pleasure, trust me it is not an enjoyable experience. Gatorade dries to a sticky substance that turns you into human fly paper.

At 7 miles my wife Pam, daughters Heather and Tiff, son-on-laws Marshal and Matt and twin grandsons were all out cheering me on. Pam spotting me in the crowd is a minor miracle but it was great to see them. Just before 10 miles Cyndi caught up to me and we ran a mile or so together. It was nice boost. At thirteen miles I got another boost…I was still running AND I got to enjoy the running the gauntlet of the Wellesley Girls. Picture 300+ yards of screaming college girls all reaching out for you yelling for kisses and holding signs saying Kiss Me I’m …(fill in the blank …Single, A Lacrosse player, Gay, From Iowa, a Senior). It reminds me of the Sirens in Ulysses. If ever there is a time to quit and throw yourself on the mercy of the crowd, this is the place.

Next goal for me was to make it to 16 miles and the beginning of the hills. This is where the family was waiting along with my sister Terry, her husband Dave, my 3 lacrosse loving nephews, my sister-in-law Toby and husband Bob. It was right about that time the knees started to go but the boost I got from a couple of kisses and the family cheering section really helped. It’s surprising how a little thing like friendly support can help with the mental battle.The weather and the spectators were a big help the last 8 miles. It was warm but not so warm that it was overwhelming and the trailing wind helped at times. There was one spot on the course where discarded plastic water cups were actually blowing down the road faster than we were running. Nothing like running so slow you are being passed by a water cup.

By the time I was half way through the hills the knees were pretty much toast. Mostly it was the left knee going uphill and the right one going down. Favoring one and then the other got over Heartbreak and down the other side although I suspect I looked a bit like a running stick figure moving without bending my knees. From there it was just taking one mile at a time knowing if I couldn’t run any more I could walk it in. I swear that last 1/3 of mile stretch down Boylston Street to the finish line seems to get longer every year.

And so ended the effort for 2011. I felt great from the waist up and like someone had been beating both legs with a baseball bat from the waist down. I’m pretty sure I couldn’t have gone much farther and it will definitely be a while before I can walk up or down stairs without handrails but I finished and without walking. I unfortunately didn’t beat the qualifying time for my age group so I will have to do another marathon before the middle of Sept. in order to qualify for Boston next year. Bummer.

So what makes a great Marathon Day? Good friends, a warm bus to relax on till the start (with an on board porta potty), great weather, terrific crowds, family cheering section, and I made it to the finish line for the 5^th year in a row and could walk afterward (well kinda). But what meant the most to me was the kindness and support for the Help in the Nick of Time Foundation. The race is over for another year but the great work the Foundation can do is just beginning.

Only 23,000 strides to go!!!

2011-04-17T14:32:00.003-05:00

Give or take a few thousand depending on how long the knee and ankle hold up. I’m actually pretty relaxed about the whole thing. Unlike most of the runners who will toe the starting line tomorrow morning I won’t be worried about running fast enough to qualify for next year, or beat my best personal time or even if I will finish. The first two are not happening and unless something dramatic happens I know I will get to the finish, just not how long or how painful it will be.

It’s hard to describe all the excitement that takes place in Boston in the days leading up to the marathon. I was in Boston yesterday to pick up my number (13534…right in the middle of the 27,000 runners) and the streets were filled with runners and their families from all over the world…93 countries to be exact. Add to that the film crews, reporters, officials and volunteers and you get a sense of the level of excitement. They even have an expo where you can get the latest shoes, running toys, watches, health food, healthy drinks, crazy shoe laces (scientifically engineered to avoid coming untied), and clothes. It says something about the sport that almost half the exhibits at the expo are selling you something to avoid pain, heal your pain or cope with pain. Makes you wonder what that says about the human race….or at least runners. Go figure.

I also had the pleasure yesterday of joining Marshall and Heather at a pre-race event in Boston where the author of the New York Times bestseller Born to Run, Christopher McDougall, brought together professors, characters from the book and of course Marshall (who has written the screen play for the upcoming movie) to talk about the growing enthusiasm around barefoot running (there were hundreds of people at the presentation and a hundred more that had to be turned away). To be clear, this is not just running without shoes but includes those that have switched to Vibrams (rubberized slippers with toes) and those of us who have switched to minimalist shoes (like running in the old track flats). The scientific data associated with avoiding traditional thick padded running shoes with fat heals is impressive.

Marshall and Christopher were kind enough to invite me on stage to talk about giving back through running and to promote Help in the Nick of Time (new web site WWW.helpinthenickoftime.org ). Also on stage was Scott Jurek who is the American record holder for the number of miles run in 24 hours (165.7). Scott answered the question he is often asked “What do you think about when you are running 165 miles in one mile loops?”. His answer…nothing. He tries not to think about the distance because thinking causes self doubt. I can relate. The biggest challenge in any long distance race is thinking too much about how far you have left to go. Like a lot of big challenges, the task (distance) can appear to be overwhelming but if you break it down into smaller pieces and take them one piece at a time, ultimately you get there. So it is with Help in the Nick of Time. We have a long term goal of bringing together a broad group of volunteers from around the community to help families in need but the first step was to raise the initial funding and get the program off the ground. We are almost there but I could use a bit of help to get us over the top.

So tomorrow’s run is a thank you effort to everyone who has helped along the way. Aside from the challenges with injuries this year, I have a lot to be thankful for. After a number of years running for various charities I have finally set up the foundation in Nick’s name. I owe a great deal of thanks to all of you who have supported me over the years to help me get to this point. I also have most of my family with me as well. Heather and Marshall are in from California, and Tiff and Matt are here with my new twin grandchildren. The twins are truly miracle babies. Born 2 months early, they spent a month in intensive care but they both are doing well and their first foray into the world is to come see grandpa run the marathon. I will miss the pre and post race calls with my dad who passed away a few months back but I know he will be out there with Nick and I on the course.

If you have time tomorrow and want to follow my snail pace progress you can register at the BAA site http://www.baa.org/races/boston-marathon/participant-information/att-athlete-alert.aspx for updates every 10K or so. My number, in case you didn’t catch it earlier, is 13534.

Stay tuned and I will touch base on the other side.

To Dream the impossible dream…

2011-04-09T18:33:00.009-05:00

Getting ready for the Boston Marathon is like a season of Survivor. There are so many things that can go wrong between the time you register for the race and the day you stand at the starting line (asking yourself “Why did I agree to do this?”), that it is a wonder that 27,000 people will actually show up. But I get a head of myself.

The real challenge starts with just getting into the race. Boston is one of the few major races (it may be the only one) where every runner (with the exception of several thousand charity runners) have to run a qualifying time just to register to get in. It makes the Boston Marathon the most elite open marathon in the world. Qualifying times are set by age group and by sex. For example, for my age group (55-59) and sex (male – in case there was any question) I have to run a certified marathon in the year before the race in less than 3:45. That’s 8 min 30 seconds/mile for those that were trying to do the math in their heads. If you run under a qualifying time at the Boston Marathon then you automatically qualify again for the next year. Over the years the qualifying times have loosened up to allow more runners to participate and under the guidance of Race Director Dave McGillivray they have added a few thousand numbers for charities to give to runners to raise funds. Over the last 15 years or so the field has grown from around 10,000 runners to around 26,000 runners.

But qualifying doesn’t get you in; it is just the first hurdle in the obstacle course. Because of the narrow roadways and small area of the start (Hopkinton Common), there is a limit to the number of runners that can be safely supported. On race day the population of runners entering Hopkinton triples the population of the town (not to mention the thousands of spectators and volunteers). Step two in the process is to go online when registration for the marathon opens in the fall and register, pay your $130 and report your qualifying time. In the past runners could wait to as late as January to decide if they wanted to make the commitment. It gave them time to get closer to the race to see what kind of shape they were in or if they might be nursing an injury before committing their money. It is an interesting dynamic that it is easier to say yes to an April marathon during the beautiful running days of the fall than it is when you are in the middle of Jan. facing the reality of cold winter training. Marathoners aren’t stupid (for the most part) but I believe there is research that shows that all that pounding destroys the portion of the brain that handles long term memory for pain. I believe the same was true with my wife when it came to having children. Regardless, what sounds good in September is a lot less inviting in Jan.

As it turns out, over the last few years the registration has closed out before the end of the year and registration for 2010 closed out by Thanksgiving. But imagine the surprise for runners who have been doing this for decades when the registration this year closed out in 8 hours. That’s right…over 22,000 QUALIFIED runners in just 8 hours. Elite runners and people who had streaks of running Boston for 15, 20, even 30 years in a row found themselves without a number. It raised the bar so it is not just good enough to be fast on the roads, you have to be fast online as well. As an aside, you have to wonder, where did all these crazy people come from? I understand there are millions of people who now run, or have run marathons. It’s one of those bucket list things that many people want to say they have done like skydiving, bungee jumping or climbing Mount Kilimanjaro. But qualifying for Boston isn’t a walk in the park (so to speak), it requires a pretty serious commitment (as in “you ought to be committed…present company excluded”). Anyway…scary trend that is way beyond my understanding.

So to fix things, the BAA is culling the herd by tightening up the qualifications for getting in. Starting next year runners beating their qualifying time by 20 minutes or more (that’s about 45 sec/mile less than the qualifying pace) get to register first, followed by people 10 minutes below their qualifying time and then open to the rest to be prioritized by time. Qualified runners with a streak of at least 10 consecutive marathons also get to register early. Kind of a Darwinian approach of “survival of the fastest”.

All this is just to get a ticket to beat the crap out of your body in sub freezing weather for months on end while worrying all the time if your running too much, too little, too fast, or too slow. It’s a good thing that running keeps the blood pressure down or we might see more heart attacks from worrying if the long runs are long enough, am I running enough hills, am I stretching enough, should I be doing cross training, do my shoes need to be replaced.

The running itself is just one of the survival test. Runners have to travel the gauntlet of nipping dogs (the little ones are the worst), attacking birds (has happened to me more than once), and rabid raccoons (true story). Dodge flying beer cans from passing rednecks, climb snow banks to avoid attention deficit drivers, and avoid breaking a leg in potholes the size of tank traps. .

And then there are the obstacles Mother Nature contributes. Taking a butt ride on black ice, frost heaves that seem to reach up and grab your shoes, and of course the cold rainy days that turn a healthy runner into a flu ridden bed jockey.

And if you survive getting bitten, pecked, frozen, hit, tripped or stoned, you face the mother of all threats…the injury. It could be because you ran too many hills, or too many miles, too much speed work, or your shoes are worn out, or you switched to new shoes, or you stretched one yoga position too far. When you are training at the higher levels necessary to qualify for Boston, it doesn’t take much to throw a spoiler into the mix. Oh…and you can add age to the mix as well. The parts definitely don’t move like they use to. The other night I was in a hotel room and I woke up screaming with a cramp in my calf. I jumped out of bed and was bouncing around the room like a kangaroo trying to get it out. It was Las Vegas so I’m sure the guy in the next room figured I was either having a heck of a good time or murdering someone.

I’ve know a number of people, myself included, who managed to beat the odds right up to the week or so before the start, only to succumb to a last minute injury or illness. They are not fun people to be around when that happens. We have a little over a week to go before this year’s Boston Marathon and I am so NOT ready. As I mentioned in an earlier blog, a rookie move of changing shoes took me from the best shape in years to a hobbling, walking, poor excuse for a runner. I started running in minimalist shoes having read the New York Times best seller and bible of bare-footing; Born to Run by Christopher McDougall http://www.chrismcdougall.com/ . It was the switch from minimalist shoes back to regular running shoes that trashed my legs. Full disclosure, my son-in-law, film director Marshall Lewy, has written the screen play for the upcoming movie on the book. He and Christopher will be in Boston for a “Naked Run” (that’s barefoot running…get your mind out of the gutter) on this Saturday if you would like to meet them both. http://www.chrismcdougall.com/blog/april-16/

As for race day; I’m a guy that likes a challenge and these days it’s figuring out how to limp with both legs. I’ve almost got it mastered and figure with a bit of luck, and if the weather holds, I will make it in before the 5 hour cutoff. If nothing else, it will be entertaining….at least for the spectators.

Stay tuned…I’ll have one more update before the race.

One Step Away

2011-03-27T19:06:00.006-05:00

I just spent a couple of days with my twin grandchildren (oh yeah, and their mom and dad too) and I’m convinced grandchildren are God’s apology to old people for the trials of aging. If ever there is a spark to keep people young it has to be babies/children. Not that I would have said that when I was a parent of 4 but it certainly holds true when as a grand parent changing the diapers is an option, you don’t have to get up in the middle of the night when they are sick, you can bribe them with candy and ice cream and not pay for dental bills, and you don’t have to worry about paying for their college education.

The twins are awesome. I can sit for hours talking and playing with them and the fact the are only 4 months and don’t care a thing about what I’m saying is irrelevant. It’s nice to have someone who will smile at you through a half hour conversation, not offer a bit of criticism and not care they don’t understand a word you said (sounds like some of my international sales meetings). But I also wonder, “what is going on in their heads” as this grown man coos and makes noises like a 4 month old while the 4 month old nods sagely and smiles like an adult?

Occasionally I get the same question about long distance running. “What do you think about when you are out running for hours”? There’s not a short answer since it depends a lot on the weather, the terrain, the location (day dreaming in a city can be an invitation to become a hood ornament), and probably most important, whether you are injured or not. Injured runners spend a great deal of a run thinking about their injury and ways to avoid the pain or avoid making it worst. I polled a few injured runners and to the man (it was all guys) they said their number 1 concern was “Will the next step be the ONE.”. The one that pulls my hamstring again, the one that wrecks my knee, the one that pops my Achilles, the one that prevents me from running again. For an injured runner with a goal, like running Boston, that one step can be the difference between completing another training run or standing on the sidelines on the day of the race. It usually means second guessing everything…did I stretch enough, should I go slower, maybe avoid hills today, should I wrap the injured area, how far should I go so I don’t go one step too far. It’s not hard in the course of the run to be haunted by self doubt and obsessed that every twinge means you are just “One step away” from that run stopping injury.

At some time in our lives I think we all feel like we are “One step away” from disaster of some kind. Problems with finances, jobs, relationships and health issues can pile up and become overwhelming. You reach that point where you feel if one more thing happens I’m going under. I give up, I just can’t try anymore. It might be easier to do that when it is just you but if you have children, family, employees that are dependent on you, giving up is not an option. When you reach that point, where do you turn for help? For some of us it’s friends and family. If you have no where else to go it might be a church or local charity. It is to these last people that we want to offer Help in the Nick of Time. The goal of the foundation is to target families that need a little helping hand to get them through a difficult time. It might be to fix a broken car, get a new suit for a new job, handle a short term medical issue or help someone travel to see a dying family member.

My goal is to let donors know on a regular basis the affect they are having in reaching out to others.

As for me and the marathon, I’m in the gray area this year. I had the best training I’ve had in years up through the beginning of Feb but it has been a disaster since. I’ve had days where I could jog a few miles, days I could walk and jog for several hours, some days I could barely cover a couple of miles and some I couldn’t run at all. It started with the Achilles but as is typical of runners insane enough to run with an injury, my attempt to compensate has resulted in problems with the opposite knee. So at this point I have no idea where I will end up on Marathon Day. I plan to be at the starting line and I know I won’t be moving fast enough to be anywhere near last year’s time or even near the qualifying time for my age group. But I plan to make a go of it and use the walk/run approach and with good weather, a stiff breeze from behind, the support of the crowd and the grace of God, Nick and I will make it to the finish line in under 5 hours.

So I’m not giving up, at least not yet. If I can move I will be out there and I’ll be counting on Nick for a little Help in the Nick of Time.

Until next time….

You are now leaving your Comfort Zone.

2011-03-13T19:51:00.006-05:00

I was in the UK for work last week and spent a good deal of it doing a reasonable imitation of the old John Candy/Steve Martin movie “Planes, trains and automobiles”. Throw in a few subways, a number of buses and a lot of walking and you pretty much the picture. I travel a fair bit so the idea of finding my way around the mass transit systems and navigating the labyrinth of city streets is not overly intimidating; especially in a country that kind of speaks English. But it does take you out of your comfort zone the first time and can be overwhelming if you are in a situation where you don’t speak the language.

I had this happen to me in Japan one time. I was taking the subway to do a bit of exploring and found myself standing in the middle of a station with no idea which direction to go and totally befuddle by a map only in Kanji (not that being befuddle is new to me). Around me hundreds of people rushed by, heads down and intent on wherever they were headed. One poor unfortunate woman made the mistake of looking up as she approached and I stepped into her path and asked her if she could help. From the look on her face you would have thought I had asked her to hand over her purse or maybe her first born. In fact she probably would have gladly done either if it would have gotten her on her way, except it’s a Japanese custom that if someone asks you for help that you are obliged to either help them or pass them on to someone who can. Turns out she didn’t understand English and most of my Japanese was only appropriate in a bar or singing karaoke. Now both of us are outside our comfort zone. After a couple of attempts that left us staring blankly at each other she turned and grabbed a passing business man. He spoke English but didn’t know how to get to where I was headed. I now had two people who were indebted to me. Over the next few minutes these people in turn grabbed other people and before long I had collected a small crowd of people around me energetically pointing and arguing in Japanese about the right directions. The resulting situation would have made a great You Tube posting.

While somewhat humorous (at least to me), some of you may be asking “What does this have to do with the marathon?”. I’m glad you asked. A few weeks back I pulled a stupid rookie move and changed shoes. It’s normal to get a new pair of shoes a couple of months before the marathon to have time to break them in, but the rule of thumb is to stick with the model you are currently wearing. It’s the old…If it ain’t broke, don’t fix it…approach. I had been running in the new style minimalist shoes (more on this and the book that inspired it (Born to Run by Christopher McDougall) in the next blog), and I couldn’t find the model I had been wearing. In addition I was worried that when I got up to the higher mileage I would need the padding of the old style “big heel” running shoes. I was out of my comfort zone and in a moment of complete insanity I switched back to regular running shoes. Big mistake. Within a week I couldn’t run more than a mile without the sensation of someone driving nails into my leg. I tried switching back but the damage was done and two weeks later it was no better.

Anyone who has read my blogs over the last 5 years know that it is not unusual for me to be whining about some injury or ache at this point in my training. The difference this time; it was not healing and no amount of icing, heating, stretching or resting was helping. I pretty much gave up on the idea I would be able to run the marathon this year (unless they would let me move to the wheelchair division). I was totally crushed. This was the first year of running for Help in the Nick of Time and I’m a wash out.

As my colleague Eric and I were racing between subways, trains and buses last week I realized that I was doing quite a bit of walking without nearly the pain I faced when trying to run. Recognizing my grasp on sanity ebbs and flows (kind of like Charlie Sheen) when it comes to running, I decided I’d try training by walking. For years I’ve heard about walk-run programs to help people get started running and potentially work their way up to a 10K or half marathon. If that is what it takes for me to get to the starting line and make it to the finish line in Boston, then sign me up.

I’m now totally outside my comfort zone and I have no idea where this going to take me, but for now I’m moving again and have some hope. It’s pretty much the same with the Help in the Nick of Time foundation. But on that front the outpouring of support and kind words makes success much more likely.

Stay tuned…it should be an interesting 5 weeks.

At some point we all need Help

2011-02-27T22:54:00.003-05:00

At some point we all need Help.

I’m fortunate in that I have a lot of places and people I can turn to get help. These days it is likely to be Google and the Internet but it could just as easily be the instructions that came with the Ikea chest I’m re-assembling (that I didn’t read the first time through), or my wife (as long as it doesn’t involve sports or assembling anything), or family members and friends, or even getting direction from a GPS. The last is particularly useful since in the past I would have preferred to ride around all day using the “process of elimination method” rather than stopping to ask someone for directions.

For running, I’ve often turned to other runners to get advice. Depending on the topic this can be about as reliable as a weather forecast in New England. Over the years I’ve asked a number of runners (both elite and plodders) what they eat the morning of the marathon. I’ve heard everything from candy corn to pancakes, from nothing to bananas and peanut butter on bagels. Despite the variety, each runner is adamant that their solution is the best. It would take a lifetime of marathons to try them all and for many; the result would not be pretty.

But the area where I’ve needed the most advice has been in handling injuries. When you are marathon training, particularly in the winter (which you have to do for Boston), you are bound to run into the occasional injury. I’m not talking the normal aches and pains but more the “someone stabbed me in the hamstring with a dull knife”, kind of pain. I’ve tried the doctor route numerous times. The non-running doctors all have the same predictable answer….Stop Running. When you have put all the time and energy into training for a marathon, especially Boston, you might as well ask me to stop breathing. I tried running doctors, and while they are very sympathetic to the issue, depending on the injury there is little they can do fix things in a short time schedule. The conversation usually ends with “you don’t want to do anything that will cause permanent damage” followed by “there’s always next year”. Like I’ll take that advice.

Not one to behave rationally, I turn to fellow runners looking for some advice that will miraculously cure whatever injury I have while I continue to train up for the race. Desperation and a “never say die” attitude can make you do some insane things (look at Moammar Kadafi). I’ve changed shoes, running style, clothes, diet and terrain. I’ve iced, heated, swabbed with salve and taped parts of my body that were never meant for that stuff. I’ve taken aspirin, Aleve, Tylenol, herbal remedies, and ice baths (try that in the winter). I’ve had massages, done stretches that are like being on a medieval rack, tried yoga strengthening, weight work, elliptical machines and swimming. I stopped just short of the witch doctor, astrologist, and tarot card readers, although I can say I actually thought about it. You have to draw the line somewhere. All of these were recommendations to me by other runners. Sometimes a little help is too much.

In the end, cherry picking among the advice, some common sense, and a bit of stubborn fortitude have gotten me through most of the injuries. I haven’t always been able to successfully make it to the starting line, but with the help of others, I was there many more times than not. The key for me has always been the support and help of others, and the hope if I just hang on a while longer things will get better.

But what would you do if you had nowhere to turn for help. What would you do if you had no friends or family who could help you? If you lost your job, and were about to lose your house. If you were a single parent living hand to mouth and your car dies. If the choice on a daily basis is feed the kids or pay the rent. When you are one accident, one leaky pipe, one broken appliance, one bill away from falling over the edge?

If you have gotten this far you are probably asking, “OK…have you lost it? What has any of this to do with running”? I’m glad you asked. When I started blogging about running Boston 5 years ago it was to help me raise money for a local homeless shelter in my son’s name. Nick hated to see people (and animals) in need and often reached out to help. Running and doing something that helped others helped me deal with the overwhelming grief and at the same time carry on with what Nick would have done. As the years went by I’ve been working on a way to have the effort survive time’s assault on my body and my ability to annual achieve a qualifying time for Boston. This is the year.

I’ve started a memorial in Nick’s name that I plan to turn into a foundation over the course of this year. "Help in the Nick of Time" has as its goal to help people who are right on the edge, the ones who need just a bit of help and hope to keep going. It will start by providing money through charities and churches but ultimately we hope to offer volunteer services as well.

It wouldn’t be a Boston for me if I didn’t get some kind of injury at a critical point in my training. This year is no different. The jury is still out if I will heal fast enough to get in the training I need. But I have my fingers crossed and I’m counting on a little Help in the Nick of Time.

Stay tuned.

Baby it's HOT outside

2011-02-13T21:28:00.005-05:00

No the cold hasn’t gone to my head, and no I have not found some new radical self heating running outfit or some new Zen running technique where you think your way to warm when it is so cold the rubber on your shoes are cracking. I was fortunate enough to escape the snow and cold for a bit by heading off to the Caribbean.

For the past few years I’ve regaled you with whining examples of the tortured long distance runner slogging through the cold weather in heroic style. But after the last blog I figured it was time to report the other side….what it’s like when fewer clothes are better, sunscreen is mandatory and a run without water is an invitation to a death march.

First day out is always the toughest. You would think the body would respond well to going from 20 degrees to 80 degrees. Certainly when I was sitting on the beach soaking up the sun, sipping a cold drink and watching the sun set, the weather seemed perfect. And it was perfect the next day when I headed out for a run with as few clothes on as I could wear and avoid being arrested. By the time I reached the first mile it was clear I was overdressed. It turns out that over 65 degrees most people start to build up heat faster than the body can dissipate it. …even without clothes. By 2 miles I was soaked in sweat and thinking a float in the ocean would be a lot more fun. The body responds to the heat by sweating and by moving more blood flow to the skin to move the heated blood out to the cooler skin (much like a furnace sending hot water around a house).

By 3 miles I was a soggy, red faced, wild eyed tourist that was scaring the locals. Even the local dogs (called Potcakes) were giving me a wide berth. This is about the time that the body can start shutting down if you haven’t been replacing fluids and pacing yourself to lower the effort. The blood flow is moving to the skin and away from the vital organs and is robbing the muscles of the critical oxygen you need. I use to do pretty well in the warmer weather but after a particularly bad marathon where I suffered from significant dehydration I’ve struggled with hot weather. It doesn’t help that the body wants a few days to acclimatize and 24 hours before I had been running in temperatures that were 60 degrees colder.

When I got to 4 miles I decided I had run 8 and headed for the beach. It was easy to rationalize it was 8 miles because at this point I was bordering on delusional. The core body temperature at this point is racing towards critical and the speed it arrives there is a function of the outside temperature, the humidity, the speed of the runner, the clothes they are wearing and their fluid situation. The body’s fluid level is determining the ability to lower the body temperature and move waste from the muscles. Unless the fluids are regularly being replaced it’s like having a leak in your car radiator. At some point the car overheats and the engine seizes up. The spiral down is rapid….kidneys shut down, the body stops sweating, the brain stops getting enough oxygen, and core temperature rises to a level where you cook from the inside out.

While I never got to the point where I was seeing mirages, it was a huge relief to jump in the ocean and down a bottle of water.

Right about now if I was reading this I’d be saying something like “Oh…poor baby! He escapes from 10 degree weather and 3 feet of snow to a tropical island and 80+ degrees and he is moaning about running in the heat.”. Guilt as charged! Whining is one of the less attractive aspects of my marathon training. Pam has learned to ignore me, feel free to do the same.

If it is any consolation, since we came home the temperature has been less than 12 degrees on my runs.

Baby it's cold outside

2011-01-25T08:22:00.003-05:00

7 degrees to be exact. I actually don’t mind this kind of cold weather that much, as long as I don’t have to go out in it. But given it is Boston Marathon training season again and I was crazy enough to sign up to run it again this year, there really isn’t much latitude in avoiding the cold (or the snow for that matter).

Yes…that’s right. For the fifth year in a row I’ll be running in Nick’s memory and trying again to use the completion as proof that I’m not getting any older. I guess being delusional is part of successfully running marathons. After 5 years you would think that even a marginally intelligent individual would have figured out a better way to memorialize someone than picking a marathon that is not only difficult to get into and challenging to run, but requires months of slogging through snow storms and challenging the science of frostbite on exposed skin. Why not a nice fall marathon in beautiful Sydney Australia, or Hawaii?

Why pick Boston? The answer is simple…I haven’t the slightest idea. It could be I’m not a member of the class of marginally intelligent individuals (something I’ve been emphatically told at several points in my life…usually involving sporting events or driving). It could be because I have a home court advantage which makes the logistics leading up to the race so much easier. It could be because it is the premier marathon in the world with the best spectators. Being philosophical, it could be that the challenge and difficulty makes it more meaningful in remembering Nick as I try to match physical effort with the emotional pain of his loss. Who knows…probably all the above and then some.

The truth is, 7 degrees if fricken cold. It’s what I call a double up day. Two pairs of running pants, two shirts, 2 pairs of socks and 2 pairs of gloves. Only one hat and one jacket though. A fella has to draw the line somewhere or you may look like Ralph’s little brother in “A Christmas Story”. Most of the materials today will pass the moisture through keeping the bottom layers closest to the skin pretty dry. It was a testament to this that when I took off my jacket at the end of the run there was a layer of ice/frost that have formed inside.

Of course all of this protection does nothing for the face. Given that an important part of running is being able to breathe, and it is particularly challenging to cover any distance if you can’t see where you are going, an exposed face tends to be the norm. This can lead to some pretty interesting developments over the course of an hour or more. On this run it was the frosted eyebrows and 1+ inch icicles hanging from my mustache (although the later can be broken off as a source of water during the course of the run). Add to this the fog of steam and breathe rising around my head and 2-3 inch icicles hanging from my hat and my crazed appearance would give the unibomber a run for his money. Even dogs don’t chase me (most of them are smart enough to be inside anyway). Of course the newer technologies in breathable materials help, especially if you are layering.

So here I am another year, another marathon and another set of blogs for your amusement. I’m still working on the charity for this year so stay tuned and I will have something for you in the coming weeks. In the interim, the notes of support are always welcome. Ridicule is OK too; just remember I have lots of time on the road to think about payback.

Are we having FUN yet?

2010-04-21T20:47:00.009-05:00

Another year and another finish. But it wasn’t pretty.

The weather was great, the fans were terrific, the start was a once in a lifetime experience and I made it to the finish line. Hard to find something to complain about….but you can bet I will.

With every marathon I learn a little bit more about myself and about marathons. Here’s the lessons learned this year:

- All that stuff I said last week about not going out too fast in the first half? I was right. But that didn’t stop me from doing it.
- You can actually limp with both legs at the same time. You just look really strange. But you get a lot of sympathetic cheers.
- When you reach the point where your legs are like lead, your muscles are in knots, and every stride is painful you have to make a decision….You can slow down and hope it hurts less (I can guarantee it won’t AND you will be out here a lot longer) or you can grit your teeth, go into the zone and muscle through it.
- Having your name on your shirt can be great towards the end of the race but is really annoying in the early miles. Every time somebody calls your name you feel obligated to turn, smile, wave your hand and of course check to see if you are really suppose to know this person. Next year I may put a sign on my back that says “Thanks…I’m smiling and waving back on the inside”.
- Boston has the world’s best marathon fans. I already knew that but it was nice to be reminded again this year.

The day started out great with a ride into Boston with a couple of good friends (Bill and Christine) where we were invited to hitch a ride with one of the charities on their luxury bus (a real treat given the alternative is being crammed in a school bus for over an hour). When we got to the staging area (what they call the runner’s village) we got to stay on our warm bus while most of the 26,000 runners had to wait outside in a practice field lined with porta-potties. It’s actually pretty interesting to watch how runners deal with waiting for hours for the start of their race. Some were up dancing, others were getting temporary tattoos, some getting their pictures taken by a Boston Marathon sign, some taking pictures of people taking pictures of runners and in general a lot of camaraderie, water drinking and repeat visit to the porta-potties.

There are a number of starts to the race…wheelchairs first, then a woman’s elite, then the first half of the main field (10 AM) and then finally the rest of us (10:30). Each runner has a number that corresponds with the corral that they have to be staged in at the start. There are fences along the road for over a quarter mile that will keep anyone but the runners from getting into the staging areas and each runner’s number is checked to make sure they are in the right corral. The goal is to prevent slow runners from trying to move up towards the front and getting in the way of the faster paced runners. The corrals for 13,000 runners will extend back over a quarter mile (yes the people in the back have to walk/jog that quarter mile after the gun is fired just to get to the starting line).

A half hour before your starting time you hand your bag of clothes and things you want at the finish to the bag handlers on school buses so they bring them to the finish line for you. Then, if you are like me, you don a trash bag to keep you warm as you make the half to ¾ mile walk from the runner’s village to the runner’s corrals. A lot of runners wear older running clothes which they strip off just before the start and toss them to volunteers on the side of the road. The Salvation Army collects an 18 wheeler full of clothes from the start.

Luck of the draw…my number was in the first corral of the second wave. For the first, and probably only time in my life, I got to be standing in the front row of runners at the starting line when the gun was fired for the second wave of the Boston Marathon. It was the equivalent of being a passenger in the back of the plane for years and suddenly the pilot asks you if you would like to come up to the cockpit for the takeoff. And while the thrill was short term, the resulting consequences lingered for hours. When the gun went off all the cooped up adrenaline, the excitement of the race, the thrill of being upfront leading a pack of thousands of runners goes straight to your legs. Add a very healthy downhill and you have the ideal situation for an overzealous start.

One of the challenges in a run is settling into your own pace. What helps is settling into that pace with other runners that are also running your pace. When there is no one in front of you and everyone around you is running hell bent for election you just get swept along with the crowd. I knew I was in trouble when I hit the 2 mile mark a full minute ahead of my pace and I immediately put on the breaks. Unfortunately once you have settled into a pace it is really hard to slow down and find a new one. Especially when everyone around you is blowing by you. It was 10 miles before I finally settled in and by then I knew I was in big trouble. At the half way mark I was a full 3 minutes ahead of last year’s pace and this year, because of the knee, I had fewer long runs and was less trained than last year.

Just shy of 16 miles is the low point and then for the next 5 miles you climb. By the time I got to these hills the legs were a mess. The right knee and hip were vying with the left hamstring and IT band to see which ones could get more of my attention. When I passed my sister Terry and nephews (Ian, Lucas and Madigan) at a little after 16 (thank goodness they were there…needed the moral boost) they said I looked stiff. They were being kind. I looked like one of those cartoon stick figures trying to run with no knees.

The remainder of the race had to be one of the longest last 10 miles I have ever run. Nick and I ran them together taking them one mile at a time with no expectation that we would be able to keep going beyond this mile, but trying not to think about anything but making to the next mile marker, or water stop, or street corner, or maybe just to that telephone pole. I was totally in the zone.

So when the finish line showed up, it was more relief and surprise that I made it than it was enthusiasm for the success of the run. The finishing time, as good as it was, was overshadowed by the mental effort and physical pain it took to get there. There’s no question that if you want to enjoy the marathon, especially the thrill of engaging with the crowd over the last few miles, the right way to do it is by running negative splits (the second half faster than the first).

I was stopped by one of the news crews at the finish line with a couple of questions. If you would like to see the video click on http://www.necn.com/pages/landing?blockID=219232 . I'm about 2 minutes in just after the Hoytes.

A month or so ago I mentioned the growing interest by runners in running barefoot as a result of the recent book “Born To Run” by Christopher McDougall. While I didn’t see any barefoot runners this year I did see a number wearing the new Vibram Five Finger running shoes (they are like rubber form fitting running slippers). Christopher, who made a generous donation to CAH, left a note that if I ran the last mile barefoot he would increase the donation. I actually thought about it at that last mile marker but I was afraid if I stopped and sat down to take off my shoes I wouldn’t be able to get up again. Stay tuned…next year I may be doing it in Vibrams.

As for how I’m doing right now? I’m just glad someone invented handrails for going downstairs. Otherwise I’d look really funny bumping down the stairs on my butt. To limit the pain and shorten the recovery time I took a page from the Marque de Sade school of training and climbed into a tub of ice when I got home. I’m not sure how much good it did but the initial shock made me forget all about the pains in my legs. I expect by tomorrow or the day after I’ll be able to get out of a chair or my car on the first try and then I can think about starting up again.

Well, here we are, another year gone by, another Boston Marathon, another fast enough time so I’m qualified to do it all again next year. But most important, another year I got to keep Nick’s memory alive, to share the effort with friends, family and colleagues and to do something that can help others less fortunate. Despite the pain, the cold mornings training and hours of lost sleep I consider myself blessed to be able to do this and fortunate to be surrounded by friends who care enough to support me.

Until next year…stay well and God bless.

Ya can't drive around with a tiger in your car

2010-04-17T11:27:00.016-05:00

It’s been a tradition over the last 4 years choose the title of the last blog before the marathon from a verse in the Roger Miller song, “You can’t roller-skate in a buffalo herd” (on YouTube if you actually care ) http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KI-8hst0bho . This will be the last year. Promise! I’m running out of verses anyway…although we could have used “You can’t take a shower in a parakeet cage”. That’s one that has never been on my life list of things to do.

So here we are, a couple of days before the marathon and in Boston the excitement is building everywhere. I went into Boston to get my number and the finish line is painted on Boylston Street, the stands are being built, signs are up everywhere touting the marathon and welcoming runners, and on every street I passed runners warming up, sightseeing, taking pictures and of course, eating. When you drop over 26,000 runners into the center of Boston they can’t help but be a dominant presence. That’s right, there will be over 26,800 of us at the starting line in Hopkinton on Monday morning. A town whose regular population is around 2700. Like hosting a party where everyone invited invites 10 friends .

Standing in line to get my number and T-shirt you can’t help but get excited. Everywhere you go strangers are yelling out “good luck Monday”, or “congratulations on getting here”. It’s like being a rock star. But along with the excitement you can sense the nervousness. Most runners have trouble sleeping the night before. I always get nervous the last few days before the race. Truth is, there is nothing you can do in the last week that is going to improve your odds of finishing and a thousand things you can do to screw things up. And it’s not as if I’m in it to win it. I have a much better chance of winning the lottery than I do of winning the marathon. Or for that matter beating the first woman or even finishing in the top half of the runners. Heck I’ll be lucky to have the knee hold up and finish under 4 hours. And having done this more than a dozen times you would think I’d be pretty relaxed about the whole thing. I guess after all the training, the long runs on cold dark mornings, the icing of body parts that keep reminding you you’re too old for this, you just want everything to go smooth.

But there is also the deep desire not to let down any of the friends and family who have supported me throughout, or the families I’m running for at CAH. And most of all not to let down Nick. I promised him I would Live Life Large and I know he will be out there running with me Monday.

The big unknowns with Boston are the last minute aches and pains, the weather and the logistics of getting to the start on time. Not much you can do about the first two but the last one has many of us paranoid runners who have slept through an alarm, checking the clock every hour during the night. The other big risk is starting out too fast. Boston is a downhill marathon, although you would never know it when you hit the hills in Newton. Over the first 4 miles the race drops 300 ft (the equivalent of a 30 story building). You can imagine what it is like to be cooped up on a starting line waiting to go, adrenalin pumping, legs getting antsy, and the gun fires and you are off…downhill. It’s like the horses coming out of the gates at the Kentucky Derby. The two biggest mistakes a marathoner can make…particularly in Boston are not drinking enough water early and going out too fast. And for the latter, the downhill start doesn’t help. Between miles 4 and 15 the marathon is rolling but the elevation doesn't change much. There is a big drop in mile 15 to one of the lowest points in the race and at mile 16 the climb starts. Over the next 5 miles you will climb the height of that 20 story building through a series of 4 hills each ranging in length between a quarter and a half mile. The last one, and the steepest, is Heartbreak Hill. There have been years I have cruised through these hills with some of the fastest miles of the race and other years where I have been heard to say “please just shoot me now”. On Monday I hope to be somewhere between the two.

So I have two goals going into this weekend. To finish the Boston Marathon for the fourth year in a row and to make my contribution goal for CAH. I’ll take care of the first but I could use a bit of help with the second. http://www.firstgiving.com/davidfowler3

And as for Roger’s song….what I love most is his chorus.

All you gotta do, is put your mind to it

Knuckle down,

buckle down,

do it, do it, do it

It will be what I’m singing as I’m coughing up my lungs on Heartbreak hill.

Thanks to everyone for the kind words of support and encouragement as well as the donations. There is nothing I can say that even comes close to letting you know how much it all means to me and to so many families.

PS: Much like last year, if you are totally bored or have a morbid streak, you can track my progress during the race either by registering for updates on a mobile phone or email. Click on the link below and it will give you instructions for both. My race bib number is 14750.

http://registration.baa.org/2010/cf/RegAthleteAlert/pg_AthleteAlert.cfm?mode=preentry&snap=27013484&.

I should be crossing the starting line sometime around 10:35 and if all goes well I’ll be done just after 2:30.

Pain is Relative.....

2010-04-05T06:28:00.007-05:00

I once heard someone say “Success is relative….the more success, the more relatives.” Some might say the same for Pain….the more relatives the more pains. I would never say that. I love my relatives. Especially the ones that donate to my marathon charities (sometimes subtle doesn’t work with them).

But as you might imagine the real topic of this blog is not about relatives. I promised myself that after three years of moaning and whining about injuries leading up to the marathon that this year I was going to be conspicuously quiet no matter what. The fact that my credibility was totally shot after managing to complete the 26 miles (and 385 yards) all three years despite injuries had a bit to do with it. And of course it was easy to make that promise early on in my training seeing as for the first time in 4 years I was in Feb. feeling good and ahead of last year’s training schedule.

In reality, almost anyone can run a marathon. It’s strictly a question of how much pain you are willing to endure to achieve the goal. I’ve mentioned in past blogs that your body fuel and shoes give out on you somewhere around 17 to 19 miles (earlier if you don’t do the training) and at that point it is strictly a matter of mental toughness and stubbornness that keep you going. For the next hour or so you are waging a battle with your body that resembles a World Wrestling Federation title bout. In this corner in the white running shorts we have the Captain of Confidence, the Top Dog of Training, the Prime Minster of Stubbornness our hero “The Finisher”. In the opposing corner, we have the Prince of Pain, the King of Cramps, the Injector of Insecurity, the challenger “Race Terminator”. Somewhere after 13 miles the battle between the two gets into full swing. At this point your training, the weather, how fast or slow you might have started out, how much (or little) liquids you took early on all factor into your ability to keep the Race Terminator at bay. On a good day you can keep him on the ropes until you reach that 17-18 mile mark. Then the second half of the race begins. It doesn’t help that in Boston, just as you need something to help you keep going you find yourself in the middle of 5 miles of hills. Heartbreak is the perfect name. It’s a body slam both mentally and physically.

From here on it is not a question of whether you are in pain, only a question of how much. From an early age our bodies teach us that when you are doing something and it hurts…don’t do that. Part of marathon training is teaching your body to deal with the pain without panicking. It doesn’t mean the pain goes away, it just means “The Finisher” is able to stay ahead of the incessant mental niggling of “Race Terminator”. The hard part is knowing the difference between pain that is permanent damage to your body and pain that is temporary from overuse and fatigue. The original Greek marathoner actually ran himself to death.

There is an old song I remember singing as a kid that went something like this…”The knee bone is connected to the thigh bone. The Thigh bone is connected to the hip bone.” . Back in late Feb. I couldn’t help but think of this song as I went out to run one morning and the pain from the knee and hip of my right leg stopped me flat. I still don’t know what happened. I could blame it on doing a long run and climbing on an airplane and flying for 6 hours (we all know what it’s like to be jammed into one of those seats designed for people less than 5 feet tall) but I actually have no idea . All I know is that the knee bone is connected to the thigh bone and the thigh bone is connected to the hip bone and in my body they are all yelling at each other. So I took two weeks off hoping that would help and then started up running again with a few miles every other day. The pain hasn’t gone away but with the help of ice, Aleve, a knee brace and a much slower pace, I have learned to deal with it and as of today I believe I can cover at least half the distance. At that point I will be well into the battle with the “Race Terminator” and the jury is out on who will win this time. I have one thing going for me…. Pam says I can be one of the most stubborn people in the world.

It occurred to me that often what keeps me going in the later stages of the race is knowing how much farther I have to go to get to the end. Can you imagine what it would be like if you were facing significant life challenges and could never see an end in sight? I can’t even begin to guess what it is like to be trapped in a situation where no matter what you do you can’t see a way to the finish line. Sometimes we just need people to point us in the right direction, show us there is a way out and give us a helping hand to get us there. That’s what Citizens for Adequate Housing does. It’s not just about a place to live; it’s about teaching life skills and helping families find their way to self sufficiency. To see the finish line or at least a way to get there. And while the analogy is a bit of a stretch, your donations are like the spectators on the side of the road, giving encouragement and water to help get to the finish line. It’s hard for me to separate the support you give me to get to the finish from the support you are giving to help others face their “Race Terminator”.

Thanks to everyone who has helped with support and encouragement. I know it is a tough year for everyone but please help if you can. http://www.firstgiving.com/davidfowler3
In the mean time I’ll be out there slogging the last of my miles as that crazy song goes round and round in my head. “The knee bone’s connected to the thigh bone. The thigh bone’s connected…”

Till next time…

Entering the Age of Loss

2010-03-21T05:49:00.006-05:00

While I was running the other morning, and still waking up (thank goodness there were no cars on the road), I realized I had suddenly passed into a new age in my life: the Age of Loss. I figure that is the point where you suddenly realize that you are losing things. I don't mean the TV remote control, your glasses, your cell phone or the car keys (all of which I swear I put down where I always do and someone came along and moved them). The big wake up call was the realization that I had reached an age where age itself was stealing from me. Loss of hair, loss of muscle tone, loss of good looks (my son Matt would say you can't lose what you never had), loss of stamina, loss of hearing (beyond my current “selective” hearing loss), loss of eyesight, and loss of memory (at times that may be a blessing). Hmmm…where was I going with this?

Oh Yeah…I also realized there's a ying and a yang to the Age of Loss, things you lose and things you gain as well. Like a few extra pounds here and there, wrinkles, more forehead, blood pressure, wisdom (some people anyway) and an ever increasing collection of aches and pains.

Actually what got me started on this train of thought was the news that a dear uncle of mine had passed away. Some people pass through your life and while you have fond memories of your time with them, they never leave a mark. My uncle Ray not only left a mark he helped to define who I have become. Certainly not as much as my immediate family but in ways that only someone outside your daily life could. At his military funeral I was talking to friends and family about not seeing each other these days except at funerals. It use to be at weddings. Welcome to the Age of Loss.

You might ask, what does this have to do with running and the marathon. I’m glad you asked. Acknowledging I have moved into a new phase meant acknowledging that my best running years are long behind me. That despite my belief that I still have one more good marathon in me, just surviving the marathon and not being carried off in a wheelchair is going to be the best I can hope for. Heck, just surviving the training and getting to the starting line without ending up in traction might be my new goal. It is interesting how the body recognizes its age long before the mind will acknowledge it.

But it also struck me that the Age of Loss is not just an age thing. We all know people who have suffered losses early in their lives. The death of a parent, sibling, or friend; loss of a parent to divorce, loss of a job, a home or maybe even a place to live. There are few things more heart wrenching to me than thinking about being a parent who can’t provide my children with a bed, clothes or even an expectation on where the next meal will come from. The loss of a sense of security and hope must be overwhelming.

So the ying and yang of my Age of Loss is while I’ve lost the ability to get through my marathon training without looking like the hunchback of Notre Dame, I’ve gain the opportunity to use my running and friendships to help put children in a bed, food in their stomachs, a smile on their parent’s face and a bit of hope back in their lives. To me that’s a net gain any way you look at it.

Running Shoes are for Wussies

2010-02-27T13:44:00.008-05:00

Over the summer my son-in-law Marshall (the one that married Heather and ran the Boston Marathon with us 2 years ago) gave me a book “Born to Run” by Christopher McDougall. Although I have read a few, I’m not big on running books. Mostly they tend to be a lecture on running style or tell me how great it is to run my first race or wax eloquently on the beauty of running in (pick your favorite place). Been there, done that…don’t need to read about it.

But this book was different. It’s an adventure story, mixed with facts about running, and interesting characters. What’s more it has established a ground swell of interest in a new way of running. Barefoot. Yeah, I rolled my eyes and started laughing too when I first thought about it. Can you imagine going out on the streets of LA or NY or DC without socks and shoes? Within a quarter mile you would be hopping around yowling with something stuck in your foot like a scene from the three stooges. And when was the last time you had to walk across hot pavement or sand on your way to a pool/ocean on a hot summer day. Brings up memories of Dudley Moore in the movie 10 when he has the beach boy carry him to the water to avoid burning his feet. How about that for 5 or 6 miles? Or my favorite….running in a New England winter on roads that are so cold that I swear some mornings the rubber on the bottom of my shoes is going to crack. And don’t even begin to ask me about barefooting in the snow.

But after reading the book I have to say it raises some interesting questions. Did you know that one of the winners of the Boston Marathon, Ellison Tarzan Brown, ran the last seven miles of the marathon barefoot because the heat from the streets had made his feet too hot in the shoes. I was somewhat was surprised to find that last year a guy ran the Boston Marathon barefoot (only somewhat surprised because there are a lot of strange people running Boston….beside me that is). He wasn’t the first and judging from all the hype around barefoot running there will be a lot more in the coming year. Not to be outdone, Harvard had to get in on the craze. A recent Harvard study reinforces the information in McDougall’s book that humans ran for centuries without shoes and for more centuries without the highly padded shoes that through the marketing genius of Nike, appeared in the early 70’s. How’s this for data…30% of regular runners get injured every year. If the high tech, infinitely padded, motion controlled, gel filled running shoes are so good for us, why are so many of us injured all the time.

One more data point, almost all running shoes, no matter how much you pay for them, give up the ghost in terms of cushion, when you get around 18 miles (yupp…just when you need them most and every downhill step feels like someone pounding a nail into your quads). After that you could be wearing street shoes. But at this point I’m not ready to give up my running shoes although I’m giving it serious consideration as I again ice my hamstring. Heather and Marshall have shifted to Vibram Five Fingers which are a form of rubber running slippers that protect your feet but give you the sensation of running barefoot.

So, if you find this interesting I’d suggest giving the book a read. Actually the story is even more interesting than issue of barefoot running. And while you are thinking of barefoot running and the winters in New England if you can help out the charity I’m running for it would be greatly appreciated. Their goal is to prevent families from either sleeping or walking barefoot in the cold. Here's the link http://www.firstgiving.com/davidfowler3

Till next time….

"On the Road Again" - Boston 2010

2010-01-29T23:08:00.005-05:00

On the Road Again…and Again…and Again

It’s that time of year again when the snow flies, the ice piles up on the roads and masochistic running junkies like me head out into the weather to get in their Boston Marathon training. Ahhh the pleasure of coming back from a brisk winter run with icicles hanging from your mustache and hat, the warm and soothing ache of feeling your fingers and toes reform their molecular structure from frozen to flesh, the joy of scraping frozen Gatorade from your jacket where you missed your mouth at mile 5 and the pleasure of listening to your wife’s supportive welcome home message “don’t touch anything until you shower and burn those clothes….and no I don’t want a hug”.

In truth, it’s not that bad. In only half the runs does it really get that cold. The other half are colder. But I like the cooler weather. No bugs, you don’t sweat as much, don’t need as much water, and once you get warmed up you feel…well…invincible.
It could be worse. I read an awesome book over the summer, “Born to Run”, that advocates that running shoes are the source of most injuries and that running barefoot is the answer. Try that in the snow. But more on that in the next blog.

So, while training for Boston thru a Boston winter is a challenge, especially while holding down a high tech job, it is not nearly the challenge that many people go through on a daily basis to find a job to support their family, or rescue their children from an abusive relationship, or struggle to find a place to live other than their car, or to fight the demons of drugs and alcohol, or to support a mentally or physically handicapped child or to face another day of depression and hopelessness. I consider myself blessed and as long as my legs will hold up and I can do something to help I will be out on those roads, growing icicles, leaving footprints in the snow, freezing my butt off and considering myself lucky.

As the Willie Nelson song goes, I’m “On the Road again”. I know times are tough for everyone so this year I'm even more grateful for your support both verbally and financially (you can donate to Citizens for Adequate Housing at http://www.firstgiving.com/davidfowler3). And if this message finds you struggling please remember you are not alone and there are people out there working to offer a helping hand, ear and more.

Till next time....

2009-04-25T09:49:00.014-05:00

I MADE IT!!!

OK…so some of you are saying, “yeah….so what’s new”. That’s fair.

I’ve done it more than a dozen times before and through some tough circumstances over the last two years but between you and I, this was the year I had the most doubts that I would even get to the starting line. So while it sounds strange, I am probably the most surprised that I made it.

Much like last year I had the pleasure of riding on a bus to the start with my fellow Hunger Strikers (who raised over $80K this year for the Lazarus House food pantry). Getting a bus to the start sounds like no big deal but for a marathoner it is a pleasure that rivals taking a limo to your senior prom. To contrast it, most runners have to catch a 6AM school bus out of Boston for a long, crowded, bone jarring ride out to Hopkinton (made all the more enjoyable by the famous MA potholes). After banging you knees on the seat in front of you for an hour and a half you have the privilege of sitting around in the sports field of the Hopkinton high school in 35 degree temperatures for 2+ hours with 20,000+ other runners who have little to do but swap running stories, discuss the weather and what they should wear, drink water, make port-a-john visits, re-tie their shoes a half dozen times, get more nervous, drink more water, make more port-a-john visits (you have some of your best conversations in line at the port-a-johns).

As a quick aside, there is a science to making your last potty visit just before the race starts so you don’t have to make a pit stop during the race. This is further complicated by the fact that you have to be in the starting area 15-20 minutes before the gun goes off. Given there are a limited number of units and thousands of people all trying to go at the same time, timing is everything. For an old guy like me who has had his pipes bounced around a lot over the last 50+ years, this is an important issue. I had a dream one year that I was locked in one of the port-a-johns when the gun when off. Scary.

I, on the other hand, got to board a bus near my house, ride in comfort to the high school with my teammates, and then we get to stay on the warm bus until it’s time to head down to the start. It’s the fifth best part of the day (thanks for the pictures Alan).

Then it’s time and we make the half mile trek down to the starting area which is broken up into one thousand person corrals based on your number. There are two waves to the start, 10 am for the 14,000 fastest runners and 10:30 for the remaining 12,000 or so. As you head down to the start you pass busses where you can leave spare clothes that they take to the finish for you. Picture this…I’m walking down this residential side street with 14,000 other runners and I hear my name. Walking next to me is Bob Mackin who works with me at VidSys. Life is funny that way sometimes.

While being in the first wave shaved a half hour off my waiting around for the start, I was 13477 of 14000 runners. I was so far back from the starting line that spectators arriving were asking if there was a shuttle from there to the start. In truth, it doesn’t affect your time (you have a timing chip on your shoe that tracks your actual race time from when you cross the start), but if I ever collapse in the last 1/3 of the mile before the finish I expect to get credit for the distance.

Finally the gun goes off and 8 minutes later I cross the starting line…the fourth best part of my day. And as I’m pounding down the first hill I suddenly realize my timing on the last potty run was too early…I’ve gotta go. For a couple of miles I think “I can hold it” . Delusional. There are port-a-johns along the route but I have an aversion to standing in line to pee when I’m supposed to be running and the clock is. Lots of people jump into the woods along the road but you need to do this in the first couple of miles, after that you are mostly in cities or populated areas (people frown on runners peeing on their petunias). Just after the 5k mark ( 3+ miles for you metric challenged readers) I spotted a construction site with some portable units and made a quick detour. It didn’t make my list of the 5 best parts of my day but it wasn’t far off.

Back on the course things went well until about 15 miles. I knew I was in trouble strength wise at half way but I had been running better than I had expected and while the hamstring was tightening up I was able to keep it under control by shortening the stride and lowering the pace. The real challenge at 15 was the right knee. I suspect favoring the left hamstring and the pace over the first half were a bit too much for it. I made it to 16 miles where my family was waiting and that gave me a big boost…my second best part of the day (thanks Pam, Betsy, Tiff, Matt, Allie, Drew, Ian, and Terry…you are the best).

At that point, just as I entered the heartbreak hills I went into “the zone”. This is the period where you start to focus inward on what you need to keep your body moving . It’s hard to explain but imagine getting so focused on something that you can tune out everything around you. The gremlins kick in big time. “What are you doing out here, you are too old.” “Walk a while , you will feel better.” “ It’s no big deal if you don’t finish.” Being in the zone helps to turn down the volume on the gremlins. You start to make deals with yourself… to get to the next mile marker, then to the top of the next hill, then to the next street corner, then to the next telephone pole. Up-hills are painful, down-hills are worst.

And then you are there. First it’s the sight of the Prudential Center, but you are still 3 miles away. Then the 25 mile marker and only have 1.2 miles to go. You know you can make it even if you have to do the marathon shuffle, walk or even crawl. The gremlins are gone, the pain is not, but the crowd is like morphine. You start looking for the right turn onto Hereford and the hundred yard stretch that will take you to the left onto Boylston Street. And as you make that last turn it is overwhelming…you can see the finish line, the crowd is cheering at an insane volume, you get a burst of energy and emotion and your pace picks up. I swear they move the finish line back every year. It seems to take forever to make that last quarter mile+ …and then we are there. We made it. The best part of the day.

I say “we” because I couldn’t have made it without the support of too many of you to mention here. But know that I carried you in my heart and it helped me when I was in the zone. My son taught me that “living life large” is more important than “living life long” and you have all helped me add to my life experiences and honor his memory. For that I will never be able to thank you enough.

I also want to says thanks again to all of you who have made donations to CAH and Lazarus House. You have not only supported me but given hope and support to numerous families who at this point are struggling to make a new life. You should be proud of yourselves…you may not see it directly but you have made a difference.

OH…and for those counting…the third best part of the day…climbing into bed that night.

Wishing you great life experiences in the coming year.

Dave

Can't go swiming in a Baseball Pool

2009-04-12T20:32:00.016-05:00

It's become a tradition over the last three years to title my last blog before the marathon from the Roger Miller song "You can't roller skate in a buffalo herd" (now on YouTube http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KI-8hst0bho). As I was hunting through the verses of the song to find an appropriate phrase it struck me how much the song resembles the way we look at life at times....through the eyes of the "you can't". You couldn't possibly get that job with your experience, you can't...make the team, make the Olympics, win your event, stop smoking, survive being homeless, climb a mountain, walk again, beat cancer, run a marathon...with one leg. The world is full of "you can't".

When I went into Boston today to get my number I stood in line behind a middle aged woman running her first Boston Marathon. She told me when she started running a little over 3 years ago she could barely make a quarter mile. The first time she entered an organized run it was only a mile. She finished third in the "Heffers Division". They literally made her get on a scale (talk about a left handed complement...like saying you don't sweat much for a fat person). Just before her first marathon she was told she had cancer. She ran anyway. Now as a cancer survivor she is running her first Boston and has raised over $12,000 for the Dana Faber Cancer Institute.

In two days about 26,000 people who fought off the "you can't-s" will line up to run 26.2 miles and every one of them has a story (and probably more than one).

Like Susan Hurley, our team organizer, mother hen and one of my favorite people. You may remember from last year's blog that Susan fell a few weeks before the marathon and shattered her hand and fingers. She didn't let that stop her and ran with a cast on and metal rods sticking out of her fingers (looked like Freddy Kruger from "Friday the 13th"). This year one charity wasn't enough for her so she was organizing and managing two (Lazarus House and Go Kids) and has been running with both teams.

Or how about John O'Connor from neighboring Bradford, MA who will start running Sunday Night and run the Boston Marathon route 3 times before showing up at the starting line in Hopkinton to start officially with the rest of us for his 4th marathon of the day (that's right...4 Boston Marathons, 104.8 miles ). He is running to raise money for wounded solders from Iraq and Afghanistan.

Then there's Bill Pennington, our Lazarus House Hunger Strikers coach. He has advice, experience and kind words for everyone from the first timers to us veterans. Like EF Hutton...when Bill talks, I listen. And if you ever need company on a long run, Bill's the guy. He's got more stories than the Brothers Grimm. This will be his third year in a row coaching and running for Lazarus House.

Kelly Buckley is running her first. I met Kelly at Lazarus House when were serving lunch together in the soup kitchen 2 years ago. I was training for the marathon at the time and she expressed an interest in doing it some year. This year is her year. She has raised $5000 for Lazarus House. You can see news video of Susan, Bill and Kelly talking about Lazarus House at http://wbztv.com/sports/food.pantry.boston.2.979947.html (just click on the picture of the three runners on the top right).

Then there's Dave McGillivray who is the race director for the Boston Marathon. Dave will be running his 38th Boston Marathon in a row this year.....this time with broken ribs. If that isn't hard enough, Dave spends the day managing the race and then when it is pretty much over, drives out to Hopkinton and runs the race himself...mostly in the dark. He is a truly inspirational person who has worked hard to make the Boston Marathon not only the world's best marathon but also an awesome machine for raising funds for charities.

Speaking of inspirational heroes, in addition to Dave, one of my long time marathon heroes has been Bill Rodgers. It was Bill's series of Boston Marathon wins in the mid-late 70's that got me started running Boston. I had the opportunity to chat with Bill (see the picture above) a couple of weeks back and exchange stories of those early days of marathoning for both of us (his were much more successful than mine). At 61 he will be running Monday in his first marathon in a decade.

But not everyone who starts down the path actually makes it to the start. I had the privilege of running with Christine Andersen back in Feb. and she helped me through a difficult time with my injury. At the time she was not only running well but fast (I could barely keep up). The amazing thing is Christine has raised almost $10,000 for Lazarus House while being a mother, Doctor, and marathoner. Unfortunately Christine will be sitting this one out with a hip injury. We will miss her.

My story starts with doing something every year that celebrates Nick's memory. A little over three months ago I was trying to decide if I should even try to do the Marathon this year. I hadn't run in over a month (what my wife describes as the month from hell), was struggling with a hamstring injury that just would not quit, and wasn't sure if I started running again if I would have enough time to get ready. My long run the first week of Jan. was a tortoise-like 1 mile. But Monday I will be there on the starting line and while I am the least trained I have ever been going into the race and the hamstring is still giving me fits, I'm convinced I CAN make it to the finish (though it may not be pretty).

So back to the Roger Miller song and my mantra for Monday:

All you gotta do, is put your mind to it
Knuckle down,
buckle down,
do it, do it, do it

Thanks to everyone for the kind words of support and encouragement as well as the donations. There is nothing I can say that even comes close to letting you know how much of a positive impact you have had on so many people's lives.

PS: If you a morbid streak and care to track my progress during the race you can go to http://www.baa.org/ and put in my number 13477. I should be crossing the starting line sometime around 10:20.

Hope is a 4 letter word

2009-03-29T15:17:00.005-05:00

What makes Boston such a great marathon is the crowds. While making it from the start to the finish may not rank as a significant event for most people, to the runners who have spent months preparing for this day there is a lot of personal investment tied up in the goal. And the hundreds of thousands of smart spectators in Boston know this. In the old days, when the number of runners were smaller, the Boston Globe use to print all the runner's names and numbers in the morning paper. Spectators would make a game out of looking up the numbers and yelling out the names of the runners along with encouragement. There's nothing sweeter at the 21 mile mark than hearing your name called out along with "looking great, nice job" (except maybe a handful of jelly beans). It doesn't even matter how bad you feel, or that you really look like road kill, it gives you a bit of a lift. Since those days I've started putting my name on my shirt. Yeah it's a cheap trick but it works and I'll take any help I can get to make it through the day. And on this day it is a team effort, the support of the crowd, the support of the volunteer medical teams, and the support of the water stop crews all contribute. We just have to do the running.
I was out for a run the other day and I was thinking (there's a scary thought...guy on the windy (as in crooked...not blustery) back roads, in the dark, thinking instead of paying attention to dodging cars) about what keeps people going when they face all kinds of setbacks. My wife will tell you that in my case sometimes it's pure stubborn single mindedness. Certainly that has gotten me through more than a few marathons in the past.

In marathon training, hope plays a big role. I hope if I put in the training and get enough long runs I will be ready on marathon day. I hope it doesn't rain, or snow, or is too hot. I hope I don't get blisters or hurt before the race or on race day. But in most cases this is just wishful thinking. So what if does rain, or you get tripped in the crowd at the start or you get a cramp in your neck while trying to check out the girls lining the route in Wellesley (not that it would ever happen to me...but I know this guy...). How we handle adversity when our fondest hopes or wishes don't come true defines who we are. Certainly training in New England winters gives you plenty of opportunity to test that theory.

But HOPE also has a different meaning. Wikipedia defines it as an emotional state different from positive thinking. Hope is the emotional life jacket that we hang on to when everything around us seems to be crumbling. The real test of the word is when you face those really hard times that life throws at you like the loss of a job, your home, a child or spouse, or a long term or critical illness. Often times it is the HOPE that if I keep moving forward things will get better.

Ever notice how much easier it is to get your "hopes up" when you are surrounded by teammates, or family, or fellow workers supporting you? I like to think about hope as a light that needs power to shine. Everyone can give a bit to it themselves but it shines brightest when there is support to help. And much like we as marathoners have gotten support from running with each other and will get support from crowds on race day, the organizations we are running for are all about handing out support and hope. It's really not about the soup, or food pantry, or homeless shelter or medical help. All those are necessary but they really are just a proxy for giving a person hope that they are not alone, that their children won't have to go to bed hungry, that they won't spend another night sleeping in their car, that things will get better and that they can make it through another day.

Yesterday I ran my last long run before marathon day. From here we taper so the legs will get a chance to rest. Nothing we do from here will positively affect our ability to survive the day and certainly it could hurt it. I wasn't sure when I re-started the training with one mile the first week of Jan. if I would make it this far but with a lot of support from my team mates, friends and family...well here I am. I'm definitely the worst trained I've ever been but assuming all goes well over the next few weeks I'll be there at the start.

I want to thank all of you for your support, both the kind thoughts you've offered and the donations. I wish you could all see the faces of the people you help and the hope that you give them. It rivals the feeling crossing the finish line in Boston. And for that feeling I'll run 26 miles.

The Sanity of Insanity

2009-03-15T10:27:00.007-05:00

I recently had a friend drop me a note after one of my blogs about winter running. His message... "I really admire what you are doing but you are insane". I thanked him for both compliments.

I was traveling last week and on one of my early morning cold runs, the ones where icicles are forming on my mustache and hair, I was thinking about what he said. I decided he was right. Certainly sanity is in the eye of the beholder and if the eyes of the desk clerk at the hotel when I returned from my run are any example, I'd find myself in one of those nice, form fitting, white jackets.

There's actually a website where you can test to see if you are an "insane runner".
http://www.golivewire.com/forums/viewquiz.cgi?action=516

Albert Einstein is credited with defining insanity as "Doing the same thing over and over again and expecting a different result.” Given this will be my 14 or 15th Boston Marathon (lost track along the way) I'd have to say I fit the definition.

In reality though, isn't that what life is all about. What about the saying "If at first you don't succeed, try, try again". Granted there are exceptions to every rule (like trying to jump over the Grand Canyon on a motorcycle), but many of us see failure as a challenge not as invitation to quit. We also see achievements as milestones that we build on, not necessarily the end game.

Given I've already done the marathon before and I am far from ever running as fast as I have in the past, what am I trying to prove by doing it again? My wife thinks I do it to prove to myself that I'm not getting old. Believe me; my body reminds me of my age on almost every run.

I think what it is really about is living life. Ask any runner who has completed the Boston Marathon how they feel when they cross that finish line. The sense of being alive, of accomplishment, of confidence, makes all the effort worthwhile (well most of it anyway). Whenever I challenge myself, whether it's in my job, sports, marriage, raising my children, or just trying something new, I get a great sense of satisfaction for putting out the effort and even more of a thrill if I succeed. Disappointments? They come with the territory. But the downs make the ups that much better.

My son Nick had this great philosophy on life. He would try almost anything and seemed to be afraid of almost nothing (except frogs). Even at an early age he was scuba diving, boogie boarding in the ocean, mountain biking (sometimes at night), competing in paintball contests, playing lacrosse and hiking mountains. He had this mantra of Living Life Large and wherever possible to help others to do that too.

So why do I run the marathon? Running the marathon to help others is one way to honor his memory. I've tried to take his lessons and make them part of my life. To never miss an opportunity to help others, never miss an opportunity to tell my family I love them, to try and encourage and support others that are facing challenges and need to know someone cares, and to Live Life Large with as few regrets as possible. God knows I don't always succeed but I'll keep trying.

By Albert Einstein's definition, I guess that makes me insane.

Some Mornings I need an Obama Stimulous Package Too

2009-03-01T18:22:00.007-05:00

Picture this....it's a few minutes before your alarm will go off and you are trying to get up the motivation to get out of the toasty bed and put on your running shoes. It's still dark out but you woke early from the sound of the wind shaking your house and while you were lucky that the forecast was for clear weather, the temperature is a balmy 20 degrees (without wind chill). You crawl out of bed (some people hop out but at my age a crawl is doing well), put on numerous layers of clothes until you look like something resembling the Pillsbury Dough Boy, lace up your running shoes (if you can still reach them) and head out into the dark, frigid, windy Boston morning. There's nothing like those first few step when you lungs fill with that refreshing morning air, your bones and muscles creak to respond and you have the pleasure of seeing your breathe before it freezes on your face (or in my case creates a series of icicles on my mustache). Welcome to the world of winter training for the Boston Marathon.

We runners train pretty hard and I think it's only fair that the government should recognize the effort by providing a stimulus package to help get us going in the morning. Mine would involve funding several months of winter training in slightly milder weather...say, the Turks and Caicos Islands. My wife says I’ll be lucky to get a box of tea bags and an extra pair of warm socks and gloves.

For me, the running is not going well these days and every workout is a reminder I am way behind on my training and my leg is not healing. So it's no surprise it takes a "cattle prod" level stimulus to get me rolling out of bed some mornings. But every now and then I get a reminder of why I'm doing this and it makes the effort a bit easier. I had two of those nights this week. The first was visiting a homeless shelter for families where I got to witness first hand the terrific work that the people running the center are doing. I heard the stories of some of the current residents, saw the little kids playing quietly in the hallways and saw the one room "apartments" that the families happily call home. Not much bigger than one of my children's bedrooms. These are the luck families. In the last twelve months in MA the number of families without a place to stay has gone up 50%.

Tonight I had the privilege of going out in the Soup Truck to deliver hot soup, sandwiches and yogurt, along with some blankets, hats and gloves to guest that sleep on the street or in boarding houses. There was a light snow and it was cold and windy but the lines on the street corners where we stopped were far longer than normal. We were out of hats, gloves and blankets before we ever got to the last stop although we had enough food to make sure everyone got a good supply. At our last stop a woman arrived shivering with her bare hands shaking so hard she could barely hold the soup. She asked if we had any gloves. Justin, a current guest at Lazarus House and who had volunteered to join us on the truck, looked around for one last pair. He came up empty handed, and when he looked up at the woman she just smiled and said "that's OK". Justin pulled off his gloves and gave them to her.

So tomorrow, I’ll be rolling out of bed a bit faster and moaning a bit less as I head out into the forecasted snow storm. Keep your money President Obama, I have my stimulus package.

Half Way to Half Way

2009-02-16T13:17:00.017-05:00

Every distance runner I have ever known has struggled through a run. It goes something like this...you are in the first mile of a 10+ mile run. You are feeling like...well...crap. Every stride is an effort, the feet feel like lead, lungs are burning, breathing is like sucking air through a straw, legs are like jelly and the pavement feels twice as hard. And you are less than 10 minutes into an hour and a half run.

This is where the runner Gremlin kicks in. That's the little voice in the back of your head that relentlessly whispers "Why am I out here doing this?". "I don't need to run today, I should take the day off". "I'm not really a runner, I can't do this". "If I feel this bad now, imagine how bad I'm going to feel in another mile". "I'll never make it another hour, I might as well quit now". Come on, admit it...if you've run, swam or biked you've heard that Gremlin.

In a marathon it is even more extreme because you are out there for so long. To cope, we have all developed ways to "negotiate" with our Gremlin. Some runners don't think about the miles, they negotiate from milestone to milestone. I'll make it to the Framingham train station, then the girls at Wellesley, then the bottom of heartbreak, then the top of the next hill, then the next street corner, then the next telephone pole. The more pain, the shorter the distance to the next milestone and the louder the voice from the Gremlin to stop. I know runners who count down the miles one at a time, telling themselves they will just make it to the next mile. Tried this once...the first 13 miles it was tedious and the last 13 it was agonizing. My strategy is two fold...pummel the Gremlin with the knowledge that I have been here before and I know I can make it, and second, implement the "half way to half way" strategy. The first temporarily turns down the volume from the Gremlin (and I love the mental image of beating the crap out of the Gremlin with positive images) and the second breaks down the challenge in front of me into something I can mentally digest.

The reality is that a marathon is 80% mental and 20% physical. OK...maybe 50/50 but when you are in the last few miles it definitely feels like 80/20. By the time you get to 18 miles you have used up all your stored reserves and beyond that point you are literally digesting your muscles to fuel your body. This is why some people "hit the wall" between 18-20 miles. They just run out of fuel for the engine. At that point putting one foot in front of the other can take all the mental tenacity that a runner can muster. It's also when the Gremlins go from muttering in the background to picking up the megaphone and screaming in your head.

Why does any of this matter? Because dealing with the Gremlins on those tough training days, especially when you can barely drag your butt out of bed and the road feels like a tar pit that is sucking at every stride, is the mental training that will teach us how to deal with the Gremlins when we are in the final miles.

I also find that it helps to remember that as mentally challenging as it is to face each mile at the tale end of a marathon, it is nothing compared to the mental challenges of facing another day without a job, without food, without medical help or without a place to live. The tenacity to do that day after day without losing hope or giving up dwarfs my marathon efforts. Know that the help that many of you have offered provides the hope that allows them to silence their Gremlins for another day.

Oh...and how is my training going. Wellll...I'm half way to half way, and taking one day at a time.

Until next time....

Sometimes being selfish can be good.

2009-02-04T17:03:00.004-05:00

Training for the Boston Marathon if you live in New England is an exercise in dodging the weather (and sometimes cars). What makes it even more challlenging is getting in that weekly long run (usually several hours or more) that is so critical to marathon training. Most of us find it difficult to set aside several hours in the middle of the week so we save our long runs for Saturday or Sunday mornings. As luck would have it, in my neighborhood it has snowed almost every weekend this winter providing us with sidewalks buried under 2 feet of snow, roads covered with ice, and streets narrowed to where you often have to climb snow banks to avoid oncoming cars. The good news…temperatures actually reached 30 one weekend.

Yeah..I know…you want to know, “What’s this got to do with being selfish?”

Bear with me a bit.

I’m not sure any of us like the idea of being called selfish. It’s not the kind of comment you respond to with a “thank you”. I heard one person respond “I’m not selfish, simply self focused”. Whatever...if it helps you sleep nights……

Truth is, to be able to get out in this kind of winter weather to do anything for a couple of hours requires a certain amount of discipline, and ….well…self focus (not to mention a somewhat questionable mental state).

In the current economic times it’s easy to become self focused, worrying about the effect the economy will have on you (my way of dealing with it is not opening our monthly 401K or IRA reports with the unrealistic hope that if I don’t look its not real). While it is hard to turn on the TV or radio without hearing about foreclosures and job losses, it doesn’t seem as real as when it hits close to home with a family member or friend.

For me, I had one of those “reality” moments the other night. Last winter I had the opportunity to go out on the Lazarus House soup truck to bring sandwiches and hot soup to homeless and hungry neighbors who can’t make it to one of the city shelters for a hot meal. Between the snow, cold and icy roads it can be almost impossible for some of them, often with holes in their shoes, to make the trek. For many of them they have to make the decision to chance going out and getting sick (when they have no money for healthcare) or going hungry. They have gotten used to going hungry. So the soup truck brings food, along with socks and gloves, to people living in boarding houses and under bridges. Last winter when I was on the truck we served about 40 people who otherwise would have gone without. Last week that number was over 90. Sometimes “reality” bites.

So here’s the thing….while running the marathon could be considered a selfish act of setting and achieving a goal (and in my case honoring the memory of my son), you could argue that running it to help people makes my selfishness a good thing. What’s more, the feelings of accomplishment I get from knowing I helped others makes the training and running the marathon all worth while.

It’s not often we get to be selfish AND help others.

PS…Running is coming along slow but steady. Long run was 4 miles this week and while the hamstring is still giving me fits, I was able to keep a short stride and run slow enough to make it without re-injuring it. 11 weeks to go.

It's Winter...Time for another Boston Marathon

2009-01-17T10:31:00.013-05:00

French Novelist Alphonse Karr once wrote "The more things change, the more they remain the same". Well that pretty much sums up the start of this year's training for the Boston Marathon. Another year, another Boston, and YES...another injury.

Where we last left my blog stories, I had just finished the 2008 marathon, had done pretty well (survived AND qualified in the old man's division so I could get a number in 2009), and physically had no lasting injuries. Through the summer running was going well and I went into the fall expecting to be in great shape as I started the ramp up for the marathon training.

Sure as snow in Boston in the winter, come November I develop a problem with my left hamstring. Normally recovery is a week of rest, some stretching and a slow start to running again. Not this time. After a month of rest and stretching I tried again at Christmas and got about a mile before it gave out.

As an aside...I should point out that I hate going to doctors for running injuries. Most tell you if it hurts when you run, don't run. DUHHH. Can you imagine if the whole world operated like that? If you find it difficult to wake up in the morning, don't get up. If it's uncomfortable going the dentist, don't go. They fail to understand the mentality of a marathoner. If we all stopped when it started to hurt no one would make it to the finish line.

By January I'm getting emails from the rest of my team mates talking about getting together for 10 and 12 mile runs. I haven't run a step. It was time to bring in the big guns. I went to see Michele Holland who is a Lazarus House marathon team mate, a triathlete and a top notch physical therapist. With her help I am on a structured program that will hopefully help me heal in time to get to the starting line with a prayer of making it to the finish.

SO...what will make this year's story interesting will not be what time I do in the race, or the excitement of running with my daughter Heather and son-in-law Marshall (they can't make it this year). Given I'm two months late in starting, the big excitement for me will be dealing with the injury while trying to get in enough miles to get to the starting line with any chance of making it to the finish line before the 4th of July.

My first run is tomorrow...a whopping 1 mile. Stay tuned...should be interesting.

Another Year, Another Boston Marathon

2008-05-04T13:54:00.010-05:00

The 2008 Boston Marathon!!

Piece of cake, cake walk, walk in the park, Sunday stroll, effortless, painless....

NOT!!

Yet I have to say, it was a good experience. How can you complain with such great weather, wonderful crowds and most of all my body held together long enough to make it to the finish.

But…I jump ahead, let’s take it from the beginning. Marshall , Heather and I got on the Lazarus House bus at 6AM. Not a big deal for me to get up before 5:30 (especially when sleep the night before tends to be pretty restless), but Marshall and Heather were on west coast time (not a pretty sight). With the marathon traffic we got to the Hopkinton staging area at about 7:30. Most runners have to catch the school buses out of downtown Boston for a 1 ½ to 2 hour trip out to start. It’s not the most comfortable trip (the buses are built for short legged school kids..no leg room and no shocks) and they pack in the runners . When you arrive in Hopkinton the busses drop you in the staging area where you have the privilege of waiting for the next 2-3 hours. Picture more than 20,000 nervous runners scattered around a series of high school athletic fields, all bordered by a never ending row of porta-johns. In the center of the biggest field is a large open tent with bagels, bananas and water. Most of the runners who are not standing in line at the porta-stinks are mostly huddle under the tent trying to stay warm and relaxed.

One of the benefits of running for Lazarus House is the bus. Not only is it comfortable but we were granted permission to park our bus at the staging area (provided we get there before the roads are closed into Hopkinton). That meant we not we not only had a warm, dry comfortable place to hang out but we also had our own toilet on the bus (at least for a while until it reached capacity…a situation that the driver claimed he had never experienced before).

Just before leaving for the start there’s two final activities…try to find a porta-john without 30 people in line and strip down to your running clothes and pack the rest in your bag to be taken to the finish line. It was firmly in the lower forties until 15 minutes before we headed to the start and then the sun came out and the temp went up fast. There’s a strategy to what you wear so that you are neither too cold at the start or too warm during the race. Some people actually head to the start wearing a trash bag over their clothes or wearing old sweats and shirts and end up throwing them away over the first few miles. It looks like a giant strip tease at the start with clothes flying out of the crowd in every direction. Thousands of articles of clothes are collected for charities over the first few miles.

The start is a little over a half mile walk from the staging area where they have corrals laid out based on your bib number (corrals is an appropriate term since we are packed in like cattle at this point). Marshall, Heather and I never made it to our corral. By the time we got down to main street the crowd was backed up almost a quarter mile from the start. I’ve had a number of marathons where people have stood on the side of the road for hours looking for me and never saw me pass by. I’ve had others where I have run into, or been spotted by, people I haven’t seen in over 10 years. While standing in a sea of people at the start I looked up to find my brother-in-law 10 feet away. Go figure.

Heather and Marshall would be running at a different pace from mine so we had planned to stay in touch by cell phone. That, however, assumed I remembered to bring my phone. We made arrangements for my pit crew and cheering team (my wife, daughter Tiffany and son-in-law Matt) bring it along so they could pass it to me during the race.

Finally, with great fanfare, the gun is fired and we are off! Or not. For the first 5 minutes or so we didn’t move at all, then slowly we move into a walk, a fast shuffle and then a slow jog until some 15-20 minutes later we reach the starting line. If you happen to be running at the average pace of the crowd then the next 3-4 miles, which are almost all downhill, can be quite enjoyable (especially if you can ignore the lines of runners on the sides of the road making last minute pit stops). However, if you are attempting to move faster than the crowd it can be as frustrating as trying to move through a shopping mall at Christmas. Thus was my fate, for despite the mostly downhill nature of the first 6 miles, these were the slowest of the day for me. And that was with a certain amount of effort spent attempting to weave through the crowd.

With the warm weather and knee problems I had three key strategies: drink a lot, keep a reasonable pace through half way without hurting the knee, take one mile at a time after that, knowing I could walk in from there if the knee gave out. I missed having Heather with me, it made for a long first 10 miles. But I had Nick with me in spirit and the crowd was great. Can’t say enough good things about the women at Wellesley (about 12 miles) or the students at Boston College at about 22 miles (mostly 3 sheets to the wind by the time I get there but very enthusiastic). It was great to see my pit crew at about 16 and they were joined by my sister in-law Marena and brother in-law Ron, my nephew Drew and some of their friends. It was my own private cheering section for about 20 yards. I was busy waving and soaking it in that I ran right by them without picking up the phone. I had to run back to get it.

Knee started to go at about 15 miles, just before the hills. It was a cat and mouse game with it over the next 10 miles, and it could get snorkie (a technical term) at times depending on the terrain, the pace and even the pitch of the road. But with God’s help and Nick’s company I was able to make it. Final time 3:33:22, fast enough to qualify to get into the race next year (kind of like winning a food eating contest and the prize is…more food).

In the mean time Marshall and Heather were not fairing so well. Marshall is a tall and muscular guy and despite training in the heat of LA he got behind in taking enough water. Days like we had can be deceptive as there is a breeze in your face most of the way and it wicks away most of the sweat. It gives you the sense that you are not overheating and don’t need to drink yet you are losing a lot of moisture and a lot of electrolytes. By the time they got to Heartbreak Hill (around 18 miles) Marshall was feeling the impact. He dug deep and was able to make it all the way but he was rushed to the medical tent at the finish with dehydration. An hour later after some intravenous fluids, a bit of food, and a nice massage, he was up and walking and doing much better. Now I know how to get a massage at the end of the race.

Equally exciting for me is that our whole Lazarus team finished. Susan did run with broken hand and cast and one of our members actually limped to the finished with a stress fracture and ended the day in the hospital. With your help, the Lazarus House team raised over $120K for a food pantry where people who need help can “shop” with dignity for the food of their choice. There's still time to donate if you planned to and didn't get to it .http://www.lazarushouse.org/BostonMarathon/ViewWalkerProfile.asp?Id=8

To all of you who supported Heather, Marshall and I, my deepest and heartfelt thanks. Your generosity has truly been a wonderful gift and I can’t think of a better way to keep my son’s memory alive. I also want to thank everyone for the supportive emails, even the ones commenting on my sanity and age.

Until next year, God bless…may it be a great one for you and your family.

You Can't Rollerskate in a Buffalo Herd

2008-04-20T16:08:00.003-05:00

I love this song (by Roger Miller). Some of you know already…I cheated. I used the same song in my blog the day before the marathon last year. Different verse last year…”You can’t go fishing in a watermelon patch”…but same song.

With some exaggeration, that’s what it will be like at the start of tomorrow’s race. Picture thousands of runners packed shoulder to shoulder into a small street, trailing back for almost a half mile (that’s right, some people will have to travel an extra half mile just to get to the start), and with the pent up energy of a 5 year old on a sugar and caffeine high on Christmas eve. Now if we could only harness that energy think of the effect we could have on global warming: 20,000 runners running 26 miles means over a 1/2 million miles will be run in Boston Monday.

So, it’s the day before the race and like most runners, Heather, Marshall and I are a bit on edge. It’s not that we are not ready; it’s just that we know so much can go wrong. Like most of the runners we worry about the weather, and what we will wear, and not missing the bus to the starting line (ours leaves at 6 AM), and drinking enough, and finding a an open port-a-john just before the start (you laugh…try running 26 miles with your legs crossed), and….well you get the idea. When you think about it, as tough as it is to get from the starting line to the finish line, it’s equally tough to get from the decision to do this to the starting line. Six months of training and hundreds of miles on the roads leave plenty of chances for the random pothole to swallow your foot, or the black ice patches to take you for a ride on your back, or twist an ankle climbing the snow piles on the side of the road dodging the occasional car that comes too close. Then there’s the flu, winter colds, pulled muscles, knotted hamstrings, frostbite and bad knees (yeah…we know that one all too well). Add to this that most marathon runners I know love life, which means they are fitting the training into an already busy life.

I can give you dozens of examples but here’s one that is close to home this year. Our team leader is a working mom named Susan Hurley. Susan is not only our mother hen but also a marathon runner (and has completed the Hawaii Iron Man competition). While training for the race three weeks ago she took a bad fall. Very bad. Broke her arm, mashed several fingers, and banged her head. Picture bones coming through the skin, lots of blood, operations to put in steel rods. On top of all the pain was the heartbreak of being told she wouldn’t be able to run the race. After all the training, effort and camaraderie leading the team, she would have to sit it out. I would not be surprised to see her at the starting line Monday.

But seldom if ever do I hear a complaint from marathon runners about the effort. Oh we will complain about our injuries (see my last blog) and moan about the weather but that’s just because we are obsessing about one thing…getting to the starting line at the Boston Marathon healthy enough and trained enough to get to the finish line.

And then the day is here. Suddenly all those months of training, all the effort, pain, early mornings, cold days, nights when you couldn’t party (those really hurt), all translate from getting to the starting line to getting to the finish line.

Adidas has a great marketing program around the marathon called “Impossible is nothing”. People were encouraged by Adidas to submit their feelings before the race last year and they became the marketing campaign for this year. One of my favorites “Brain Off, Legs On”.

For every runner there’s a story. It’s what has gotten them through all the effort to get to the starting line. We all know there will be pain involved in finishing; it’s only a question of how soon it starts and how intense it gets. It’s the reasons behind the each runner’s story that will give them the mental fortitude to keep going when the rest of the body says enough (another Adidas note “My legs were screaming but the crowd was screaming louder”). For me, and I believe for Heather and Marshall as well, what will carry us through the painful parts will be the support we have gotten from you and knowing we are running to help others. For that, I can’t thank you enough.

For those of you who were able to donate to Lazarus house, you have done the same for a significant number of people who are also in pain. While most of you will never meet the people you’ve helped I have met some and I can tell you their gratitude is immeasurable. Dave McGillivray, the race director for the Boston Marathon and a man I consider to be a real hero, said at a recent meeting (and I paraphrase)….We all know someone who has been touched by cancer and therefore it’s easier for us to support charity efforts in that area. But how many of us know a homeless person. Your efforts will put food in the hands of hundreds of people and prevent mothers from having to make the agonizing decision of paying the rent or feeding her children. No matter what happens tomorrow you are all winners.

So the theme for tomorrow is the chorus from Roger Miller’s song:

ALL YOU GOTTA DO IS PUT YOUR MIND TO IT

KNUCKLE DOWN,
BUCKLE DOWN,
DO IT, DO IT, DO IT

See you in Boston!!!

PS: For those of you who might be out on the course or checking online (instructions below)...I plan to start out at around a 9 min./mile pace. We start around 10:30 so if my knee holds out till 13 miles I should be half way around 12:30 (give or take 10 minutes to get through the crowd at the start). Heather and Marshall will be starting at 9:30 pace. We all have white singlets with our names on the front and I will have a picture of my son Nick as well.
For those that might be tracking us online...our numbers are 21757 (Heather), 21758 (Marshall Lewy) and 21755 (me). Go to the BAA site below to check how we are making out. http://www.bostonmarathon.org/

The Waiting Begins....

2008-04-09T19:12:00.004-05:00

The training is pretty much over, it’s now all a mental waiting game. Over the years I’ve learned that it is at this point in the training where the Four Realities of Marathoning kick in.

The First Reality: In the two weeks before a marathon there is little you can do improve your chances of success but there is an infinite number of ways to screw it up.

Years ago when I was young, invincible, and ran the marathon to run the marathon I tested this theory. I had run 50+ miles a week at a sub 7:00 minute pace, I could run a sub 6:00 minute mile in work outs and I was mentally ready to run another Boston Marathon in the 2:40’s. But I wanted an edge in the race and there was a fairly new theory on marathoning called “carbo loading”. The theory went something like this…in the days leading up to the race you starve your system of carbohydrates and just feed it protein. Your body becomes carbohydrate starved. Then 48 hours before the race you stuff yourself with carbs and like water on a dry sponge your body sucks up and stores an extra big load of carbs. On race day when everyone else runs out of fuel at 18 miles, you just cruise by them on your reserves. Or so the theory goes.

Have you ever tried to eat a protein only diet? Ok..all you Zone diet guys put your hands down (this was pre Zone). You can have a tuna fish sandwich…without the sandwich. You can have all kinds of meat and fish and some veggies but no condiments, potatoes, rice, or pasta to go with them. Cereal? Nope. Ice Cream? Forget it. Beer or alcohol? Not on your life. When you are running 40-50 miles a week your body becomes this giant calorie furnace and trying to stoke that fire with just proteins is like trying to fuel a blast furnace with twigs. When your body can’t get enough fuel it goes cannibal and starts eating itself. It begins with your fat stores (oh yeah…we marathoners have a lot of those), and then moves on the muscles. While it is busy chowing down on your tissue it is also tearing down your immune system (for a good description of this read “You: Staying Young” by Oprah’s doctor. You can bill it as the Warranty Manual for your body). So here I am thinking I’m building myself up for the big day when in reality I’m reenacting a scene from the night of the living dead.

I would have been happy with a bad day out on the course. Truth is, my body was so run down that I picked up the flu the day before the race and couldn’t even raise my head off the pillow. I can remember telling Pam the morning of the race that I was OK and I could make it, as I tried to crawl out of bed and make it to the bathroom yet again. “Yes honey” was all she said. So after months of 50 mile weeks of running in freezing rain, ankle deep snow, weather so cold a piece of my mustache actually froze and broke off….I watched the race on TV.

The Second Reality: You will be haunted by Phantom Aches and Pains.
Once you’ve proved to yourself that you can run 20 miles in training, the only thing that stands between you and the excitement of race day is the worry that you might get hurt. Every ache, every cramp, every muscle twinge, every stubbed toe is magnified 1000 times until it dominates your thoughts and dreams with a concern that this might prevent you from being able to finish the race. I once knew a guy that got so worked up over a knot in his calf that he ended up in the hospital with an ulcer. In truth almost every runner has to have something wrong with them on the day of the race. Ask any runner how they are the day of the race and they will lapse into a litany of problems. “I have a blister on my left foot, I think I broke my right ankle last night, and I have an acute appendicitis, but otherwise I’m OK.” Establishing the fact that you are not 100% is how we as runners take a bit of the pressure off. That’s not to say some of this is not real. I knew a guy once that finished the marathon with a broken leg. But that’s a whole other story.

The Third Reality: The WALL is real.
The Wall is the point in a marathon when the laws of physics and biology conspire to terminate your ability to continue moving. It’s right about the 18 mile mark when your shoes actually give up the ghost. Despite all our years of technological advances, today’s best shoes have fully compressed the cushioning by this point and effectively you are running in the equivalent of your dress street wingtips (side note…the marathon was actually won once by a man running barefoot). Right about the time your shoes quit, your body runs out of fuel. It has consumed all the energy you have stored for the race and now you are running on shear will power. They call it “running into the wall” because one minute you are feeling OK (a relative statement considering where you are) and the next somebody has put 50 pound weights on each ankle, sucked all the air out of your lungs, and with each step is pounding nails into your thighs. The next 7-8 miles are a mental battle to keep moving at any pace. This is the point where you start to make deals with yourself or with God. “If you just get me to the next mile marker, the next street corner, the next telephone pole…I’ll go to church every Sunday for the rest of my life.”. I’ve convinced myself that God gives a free pass to marathoner promises made in the last 8 miles. He figures they have already done their time in hell.
The truth is, while it is tough for everyone in the last 7+ miles, not everyone hits the wall. You can avoid it by remembering the Fourth Reality…

The Fourth Reality: There’s no such thing as “putting time in the bank” in the first half of the race.
I cringe when I hear someone say “I plan to run the first half faster than my overall pace because I know I’m going to slow down in the second half and this way I can still have a good time.” My advice…just pay 3 big guys to beat the crap out of you now…it will be less painful. It will be a self fulfilling prophecy that if you run the first half of the race at a faster pace than what you expect your average pace to be you will not only hit the wall and slow down substantially, but your last 8-10 miles will make the Bataan Death March look like a Sunday afternoon stroll. When a runner reaches this point I’ve seen spectators in their 80’s with walkers moving faster than they are.

So, if you happen to bump into a Boston Marathoner over the next couple of weeks, be kind. Ask them how they are doing, listen patiently to their list of ailments, and offer them a few words of encouragement and confidence. Whatever you do, don’t ask them what they expect to do for time.

And a quick update on the Hunger Striker Team (the name of our Lazarus House group). We have now raised over $90K on our way to our $100K goal. Thanks to everyone who has contributed, your generosity has been overwhelming. Those of you that would still like to contribute please consider donating in my daughter Heather's name. Her Lazarus House link is

http://www.lazarushouse.org/BostonMarathon/ViewWalkerProfile.asp?Id=9

Stay tuned...I'll have one more blog report just before the race to give you my number and let you know how you can check my progress online on the day of the race.

God Bless....

the Significance of the Insignificant

2008-03-21T20:24:00.011-05:00

Forgive me for being a bit philosophical here...it's what happens when you have too much "alone time" on your long runs.

Have you ever thought about the small things that have happened in your life that at the time seemed so insignificant and yet looking back turned out to be....well...significant. Maybe even life changing. There are the big ones that immediately come to mind like stories about the people running late on 9/11 who missed their plane or weren't in their office in the Towers. Or the people who by some bizarre series of coincidents, triggered by a chance meeting with an old friend, end up meeting their soul mate. I know a guy fired from his middle level job he never would have left who was then hired by a small company that went public and made him a millionaire.

But the question that bugged me while I was plodding and limping through my two and a half hour long run this weekend was "Which of the insignificant decisions I'm making are actually going to turn out to be significant downstream?” And probably more important given my somewhat questionable track record in some areas, "How do I know what the right decisions are?”
You've probably all heard the saying "Don't sweat the small stuff" (it's even a book), and of course the follow on subtitle "everything is small stuff". I new some guys in college that followed that theory. Last I heard they had a great career in public speaking..."would you like fries with that".
But for every quick fix, "I have the answer", one size fits all, self help book there is almost always a counter position (when the first self help theory doesn't work for you, try the opposite one. It keeps the book industry in business). In this case it starts with the old saying "If you take care of the little things the big things will take care of themselves." Tried this theory with raising my kids. I did my part when they were little things but apparently teenagers have a different concept of what "taking care of themselves" means.

From my perspective, reality falls somewhere between these two. For a while my reality was something like this...I sweat the small stuff...which raises my blood pressure...which causes me to shift to not sweating the small stuff...which lowers my blood pressure...but then the small stuff I didn't sweat becomes big stuff that's not taking care of itself...which raises my blood pressure...until I resolve the big stuff...which lowers my blood pressure....so I go back to sweating the small stuff to prevent it from becoming big stuff...which... Anyway, you get the idea. But I digress. Ever notice how easy it is to digress on a blog? See what I mean, I'm digressing from my digression.

I was at the doctors the other day getting my knee checked out and it occurred to me that I had one of those insignificant moments back in 1976. Back in college I had run competitively for the first three years I was at school and in my senior year fall cross country season I fell victim to a knee problem. The routine in those days was a couple of days of rest and ice and if that didn't work the trainer shot you up with cortisone so you could compete in the next race. By the end of the season I was getting a shot every week or so and it wasn't getting better. I decided my running career was over and I refused to compete in indoor and outdoor track.

Fast forward a year and half. I'm out of school and working for a fortune 50 company that has a great fitness lab and program. Periodically they would invite guest speakers to come to talk about health issues. At 23 I planned to live forever and attending lectures on life health issues were right up there with worrying about retirement. However, one day a friend dragged me to a session on feet and running and the doctor described how almost all leg and knee injuries start with the foot and ultimately shoes. Obvious stuff today but 30 years ago it was not your everyday conversation. That night I pulled out my old college running shoes (can you say "pack rat"...not sure why I kept them). The outside heals on both shoes were worn down through the outer layers and there was at least a half inch difference between the heel’s outer edge and the inner edge. A new pair of shoes and two years later and I was running my first marathon. Thirty plus years and numerous marathons later and I'm still running (a whole heck of a lot slower mind you). It's become a part of my life and of my children's lives as well. But more importantly, that one insignificant decision to go to the meeting set me on a path that years later has allowed me to use my running to help others who need assistance and hope.

I want to thank again all of you who have taken the time to donate or send words of encouragement. Hopefully in some small way I have given you a window to the significance your kindness is having, and will continue to have on numerous lives. As someone who has seen the joy you can bring to a person who is struggling by just offering a smile, a respectful greeting, a question of concern or a hot meal I can attest to the significance of things that seem so insignificant.

If I've learned anything from my time at Lazarus House it is this...there is no such thing as an insignificant act of kindness.

Speaking of insignificant acts of kindness, here's a suggestion on how you can help the runners on heartbreak hill and in the last 6 miles of the marathon. If you happen to be out on the course that day there is nothing better than hearing your name called out with some words of encouragement (except maybe a beer) when the road in front of you looks like Mt. Everest and you are trying to figure out how you are ever going to make it through the next mile.

Till next time...

The Spirit is willing but the Flesh is....

2008-03-02T09:18:00.011-05:00

...well...Old. Just when I thought I might make it through the training without injury, BANG!...a problem. You start to question everything...is it age, or worn out parts, a skeletal deformity, or over training, the way I slept on it last night or maybe just that snow shoveling I did last weekend. Given the flesh is not helping out, I resorted to the Spirit and I'm reading Chi Running. Desperate measures for desperate times.

I refuse to believe it is age (check out marathoner Ernie at age 94. http://www.youtube.com/results?search_query=%22old+marathoner%22&search_type= ). One my heroes is Dave McGillivray, a neighbor in North Andover and the director of the Boston Marathon. Dave is about my age and each year when he is done managing this 20,000 runner, 9 city event with the logistics of a major military ground offensive, he drives out to Hopkington and runs the Boston Marathon...mostly alone. By then most of the cheering crowds are gone, the roads are reopened to traffic and by the time he finishes he will have run most of it in the dark. But what impresses me most about Dave is not that he has completed the Boston Marathon every year since he was 17 (although who wouldn't be impressed by that feat) , or the fact that every year on his birthday he runs his age in miles (I'm in awe...that was over 50 miles the last couple of years). What impresses me most is what he has done to turn his love of running and sports into a way to give back to those that need help. This year through Dave's directorship the Boston Marathon will provide numbers to thousands of sloggers like me to raise money to help people in need. In round numbers they will raise over $6 million. The Boston Marathon is not only THE premier marathon, it is a fountain of good will and hope.

But I digress. So if it is not age it has to have something to do with the way I train. Shoes, stride, speed, intensity...maybe all the above. As runners we obsess over these things when we get injured, especially when we have an impending goal...oh, like say the Boston Marathon. Someone once suggested to me...well, if you are injured, just don't run...it's just a race. In a runner's court of law, a response of death by trampling would be consider justifiable homicide.

In truth, training for a marathon can be more mentally agonizing than the race itself. While training you have months of worrying about finding time to run, eating the right things, drinking enough, drinking too much (water and alcohol) and paranoid about training enough, training too much, did I train on enough hills, getting hurt,....you get the idea. Every muscle ache, every painful twinge sets off a worry about a crippling injury that may keep you from the race. But on race day it's all about the finish line. Once the gun goes off there is no tomorrow, it's all about the next 26.2 miles and the future be damned. I've know runners who broke bones mid way and finished, I've seen runners crawl across the finish line with a smile on their face knowing the next day they won't be able to stand without crutches. Insane? Maybe. There's a question about one's sanity in just being out there...after that it's just degrees (see my earlier blog) .

So I will concede that my problems are not with getting older but rather with the pursuit of youth. For those of you that followed my blog last year this theme may sound familiar to the one titled "Youth is great, too bad it's wasted on the young". I reread it today and was amazed to find how insightfully I had laid out the three lessons I had learned on how NOT to train for a marathon, most of which I have broken this year. Blame it on early stage alzheimers. There's that age thing again.

BTW...if you are interested in a great read on distance events and giving back to the community, check out Dave McGillivray's book "The Last Pick". Inspiring reading. And of course if the Spirit moves you, the link to help me support Lazarus house is

http://www.lazarushouse.org/BostonMarathon/ViewWalkerProfile.asp?Id=8

Cheers!

Why running a Marathon is like having a baby...Well kind of.

2008-02-17T22:10:00.011-05:00

OK...before anyone pulls out the knives and start with the "how would you know?", let me acknowledge that I am not saying that a marathon is as hard as having a baby and I am in no way suggesting that I know how painful birthing is (my wife reminds me she did all the "heavy lifting" while I "coached" from the sidelines. Given this is a PG-13 blog, we won't mention what she said about my coaching at the time). http://youtube.com/watch?v=jEBxZ-5V2nE&feature=related

With disclaimers behind us, one might ask..."OK, what does running a marathon and having a baby have in common"? I'm glad you asked. After watching my wife go through labor with our first baby I figured Heather would be an only child. In an attempt to describe the pain Bill Cosby suggested it was like someone grabbing your lower lip and pulling it up over the top of your head. Judging from my first delivery room experience, he grossly underestimated the pain level. To my surprise, within months Pam was already talking about having our next child andwe didn't stop till we had four and realized we would be retiring to cardboard boxes after paying for their college costs.

I got an email from a friend the other day reminding me of how crazy running a marathon is at my age and how painful it was last year. His exact words were... “are you nuts?” I suppose the excruciating pain subsides and some part of your brain tells you, “C’mon…it wasn’t THAT bad!” . Thus the analogy with having a baby.

The more I thought about it, the more similarities I saw. Like how good you feel when it's over (the marathon and the labor...however, you could say the same thing about banging your head against a wall). The months of preparation and discomfort that go into preparing for that one key day, the hours of effort that go into getting to the finish line (although it is usually shorter for a marathon and we can even eat along the way. Pam got pitocin so you could say she cheated and took a short cut. I would never say that.). There are also some differences. We don't have our own personal doctor with us during the marathon, although we do have thousands of spectators cheering us on (not something I think Pam would have appreciated in the delivery room). And the start of training for a marathon is not nearly as exciting or as much fun as the start of having a baby.

There is one more difference...marathon's require a significant amount of commitment to get ready for the race (especially on those cold New England mornings). But when it is over, so is the commitment. Having a child is a lifetime commitment, it never ends. It doesn't matter that they grow up, color their hair purple, become teenagers who ignore you, go away to college ( but still call for money), get married, and have children of their own (God's payback). They are still our children, they have an unalterable impact on our lives and we are still committed to them. Commitment is such a harsh word...let's just call it Love.

I see the same kind of commitment from the people at Lazarus House in trying to assist those that need a bit of a helping hand. It's why I've chosen to support them and along with my commitment to Nick, why I'm running again this year. As always...if you care to help just click on this link http://www.lazarushouse.org/BostonMarathon/ViewWalkerProfile.asp?Id=8 and scroll down to the donate button.

So how are the knees and how is the training coming along? Let's just say I'm getting the miles in but at times moving slower than a woman 8 months pregnant with triplets. Heather and Marshall are doing well and occasionally bragging about the nice training weather in LA.

Oh...and in case you haven't heard, Marshall's new movie "Blue State" was just released on DVD and you can find it in your local Blockbuster and on Netflix. He runs marathons and is a movie mogul.

One more Oh...Speaking of babies...my nephew Doug just had his first baby (boy...Aidan). Congrats Doug and Melissa.

Stay tuned...the last 2 months are the best.

No one ever accused me of being sane....

2008-01-01T19:37:00.000-05:00

...but you would at least expect my daughter to know better. You guessed it...Heather an I are signed up to do the Boston Marathon again this year. Proving that insanity can be contagious, we have also recrutited Heather's fiance Marshall. He was so inspired by Heather's accomplishment last year that he signed up for his first Marathon in NY last Nov. (more on that story later) and is now ready to take on his first Boston Marathon.

So we will be running again this year in Nick's memory to raise money for Lazarus House. You can contribute to my efforts by clicking on this link http://www.lazarushouse.org/BostonMarathon/ViewWalkerProfile.asp?Id=8. It's been a great year for them and with the help of both the proceeds from last year's marathon team ($75K - thanks to all of you) and the funds raised from their local "Hike for Hope" they have not only been able to help thousands of people with meals and food but they have this year opened up a brand new Transitional Housing center for families who are working to get back on their feet. The center, called Capernaum Place, is located in Lawrence, MA. and has been 7 years in the making. With the help of numerous dedicated people, the leadership of Bridget Shaheen (Executive Director of Lazarus House) and the imagination of Dave McGillvary (who is the race director for the Boston Marathon among a number of high profile races), Capernaum Place is now the home of 11 families (last I checked) and can handle up to 21 when it is at full capacity (if you are interested in details let me know).

But now on to the marathon. Heather, Marshall and I have started our training and despite the weather (more snow in Dec. than all of last year), training is more or less on schedule. Heather and Marshall are training in LA so they get no excuses for weather related challenges. Much like last year I continue to have some knee/IT band challenges but so far not enough to stop me. The real test will be in the next few weeks as my long runs get over 13 miles.

So maybe I'm a good example of Albert Einstein's definition of insanity....Doing the same thing over and over and expecting a different outcome. Actually, if I get the same support as last year it will be worth the effort and maybe...just maybe... it's not so crazy after all.

Stay tuned...more musings to come.

Nick still has a sense of humor....

2007-04-19T07:22:00.000-05:00

Well we made it!! If anyone had predicted the path we would take to get to the finish line we would have suggested some serious mental counseling. Given that Nick was our guardian angel we should have known it would have unusual twists and turns. When Heather and I started down this road we wanted to do something that would honor Nick's memory and help others at the same time. Running the marathon for Lazarus House was a perfect way to do both. When we first talked about it we actually were more intimidated by the fund raising (hitting the goal of $3000 each) than we were about running the race. We had done a marathon together before but we had never taken on a fund raising role at that level.

Thanks to all of you (thank you, thank you) Heather and I were able to raise over $11,000 for Lazarus House. Combined with the other 15 runners we raised over $75,000 against a goal of $65,000. The funds will go towards restocking the food pantry that was destroyed in the floods last year and towards putting in place a new self service "shopping" program (more on this in a later blog). Any attempt to just say Thank You would fall short of really expressing how much good you have done for the community and people's lives. So instead I will follow up with some details of the results of the new food program once it is up and running so you can hear for yourself what the impact has been.

Now...back to the marathon. For those not interested in all the details, here are the highlights:

- Heather and I both ran into painful knee problems before we were half way. With some awkward limping, a shuffle like run and a much slower pace we were able to finish in 4:23:22.

- The weather was more of a factor before the start and at the end of the run than during the run.

- Heather and I are both recovering well although it will take a while for the knees to heal and before we can run again.

- All seventeen of the Lazarus runners started and finished.

For those interested in the details and the story behind the story...read on.

Heather and I started the day at 5 AM as we headed to meet the Lazarus House team bus that we would take to the starting line. We hauled our bags with 50 pounds of clothes (each) into the pouring rain and hurricane winds as we tried to plan for any contingency. Thanks to the efforts of Betsy Leeman (our Lazarus manager) our bus would take us directly to the staging area in Hopkinton and we would be able to stay on the bus until just before the start of the race.

Most runners have to take one of the race buses from Boston out to Hopkinton where they are unceremoniously dropped at the staging area to wait the 2+ hours until the start of the race. The staging area is a large field with a big tent in the middle and with endless rows of port-a-johns around it. Under normal circumstances a rather relaxing setting but in torrential downpours and howling wind it rather resembled a scene from Woodstock...except in the winter and without the music. Huddled under the tent were thousands of runners sitting on trash bags hoping to stay dry and warm enough to comfortably get to the start of the race. Many of the runners walked around with plastic bags over their shoes as they tried to avoid getting covered in mud in the trips to the port-a-john.

After close to a 2 hour ride (all the roads into Hopkinton are closed so traffic backs up for quite a distance) we arrived at the staging area at 8AM and set about planning what we would wear (we were worst than a couple of teenager girls planning prom night) and evaluating the constantly changing weather forecasts. While the temperatures were warmer than expected, there still was a driving rain and heavy winds. We settled on wearing running jackets over our long sleeve shirts and then our Lazarus singlets over our jackets. I decided to bring along my cell phone to chronicle the journey and potentially get help if I needed to bail.

A quick aside....it is a regulation of the Marathon that your number must be visible at all times. Partly this is because photographers and video companies take pictures all along the course and they need to know your number so they can solicit you to buy the pictures (we all want those candids of us agonizingly navigating Heartbreak Hill). The other reason is to help the BAA track runners in case of a discrepancy in the automated chip timing system. Numbers are fixed to the outside of one's shirt with 4 safety pins. Thus the problem...whatever I choose as my outside layer pretty much has to be my outside layer for the entire race. Thus the decision to wear the singlet, with our names, our numbers, and our picture of Nick over our jackets.

Next came a knock on our bus door. A woman runner with a German accent asked if she could come inside to get out of the rain for a while. Turns out it is Uta Pippig, 3 time woman's winner of the Boston Marathon in the mid90's (that's me with Uta on the bus). She was charming and outgoing and wonderful to chat with.

With so many runners (23000 registered with numbers of which over 20000 actually showed up to run), the start was changed this year to go off in two waves...one at 10 AM for the faster runners, and one at 10:30 for the rest of us. Wheelchairs go off at 9AM and the elite Woman runners at 9:30. It's hard to imagine what 10,000 runners packed into a fairly narrow street looks like (picture here is one I took with my cell phone looking back into the crowd behind me. The runners filled the street back almost a quarter mile and then continued up a side street.). We were about midway in the second wave and it took us a little over 7 minutes to get to the starting line after the gun went off.

Heather and I were like race horses in the starting gates (Heather and Kristen waiting in the drizzle for the starting gun). The first mile is pretty slow despite the fairly steep downhill as the crowds are still pretty thick. By the second mile we had settled into our 9 min/mile pace and were comfortably cruising along. The rain had stopped, we were getting hot and we started peeling off clothes ( jackets, hoods, and gloves). For the next 3 miles we picked up the pace and felt great, alternating water and Gatorade at each mile. We had a nice conversation with a couple running in a tux and wedding veil who were getting married at the top of Heartbreak Hill (they got engaged at the NYC Marathon). Round about 6 miles, just before Framingham, the sky opened up and it started pouring. While we got wet over the next mile (it pretty much stopped at 8 miles) it was warm enough when we were out of the wind that we were not cold. At 7 miles we got moral support from my wife, Heather's significant other and my son Matt.

It was just about 8.5 when my knee started to go and by 9 miles I couldn't bend my right leg without a shooting pain in the knee. Heather went on ahead to keep her pace and I gimped along at about a 10 min/mile pace having a private conversation with Nick about why he wasn't supporting me in my efforts and how unfair it was that I couldn't run the race with Heather. Just when I was thinking I might quit running and start walking, or worst...bail out, I looked up and caught sight of Heather on the side of the road. It seems the cold had gotten into her leg muscles and she was struggling with the same knee pain as I was. At his point we were just about 12 miles into the race and coming up on Wellesley. We found a pace where we could limp along together and we headed out with the plan that we keep going until one of us had to walk and then we would finish the race walking together. Heather and I laughed about the circumstance, suggesting that this was Nick's way of assuring that the two of us ran together and that we helped each other finish the race together. Heather says she got the short end of that deal.

Other than the pain in our legs we were doing fine. We got plenty of moral support from the Lazarus support teams who were scattered across the course and from my family (two sister in laws, my sister Terry, and 7 nieces and nephews). A funny aspect about being out on the course for that long is that you actually get hungry. We went by one place that was cooking steaks and we were actually tempted to stop and get a sandwich. At about 16 miles when we met up with my nephews he gave us a handful of Texas size jelly beans. They were like gold. We nibbled on them for the next 3 miles.

The rest of the race was a series of firsts for me...My first kiss from one of the Wellesley girls, My first time taking a picture while running a marathon (this is Heather going up Heartbreak Hill), My first phone call while running a race (I called my brother in law Bob who was suppose to meet me in Newton with a beer but was home bailing out his basement), My first (and second) beer while running (kindly donated by fans near BC), and of course my first Boston Marathon finish with one of my children.

I don't want to leave the impression that all was jelly beans and beer for the last 12 miles. Heather and I struggled to keep moving at times and it was only because we were together and supporting each other that we made it. The downhills were excruciating, the uphills a relief. Heather and I were doing great through the Heartbreak Hills, passing over a hundred people on the last hill (to be fair, most of them were walking...we were just shuffling faster), but I swear all of them passed us going down the other side as we limped along together looking like two old people who needed their walkers.

But with the help of family, friends, fans and Nick we made it. Crossing the finish line with Heather and knowing Nick was there with us was one of the most satisfying accomplishments of my life. While it was one of the toughest Boston Marathon's I've run it will also go down as one of the most memorable.

So to all of you...thank you. I hope these updates have been interesting and in some small way helped you to know how much you have participated in helping me and my family with our healing process and at the same time helped others through Lazarus House who are facing their life challenges.

God bless and stay well.

Can't Go Fishing in a Watermellon Patch....

2007-04-15T13:51:00.000-05:00

You might be wondering what this title, taken from a 1964 Roger Miller song, has to do with running the Boston Marathon tomorrow. That's right...tomorrow. In the rain (or snow?). With the wind blowing in our face at 500 mph. And temperatures hovering at artic levels. Ok, so I'm exaggerating a bit. Kind of reminds me of the stories my parents use to tell about walking 5 miles to school...in sub zero temperatures...wading through 4 feet of snow....in bare feet.

Anyway...I digress. Heather and I are nervous but anxious to get started. I'm most concerned about my injuries and how far my legs will last. She is most concerned about the weather (having trained in LA...in temps about 65 degrees). Most marathoners go through a bit of mental anquish in the last 24-48 hours before the race. Have I trained enough? Have I chosen the right clothes? Will I be too warm or too cold? Will that injury come back to haunt me during the race? Can I achieve the race pace I've been training for? Should I drink water or gatorade? Should I drink at all ( the BAA warns about drinking too much and too little)?

In the end it wil be more a mental game than a physical one. The decision to keep going long after the body says "no" will be challenging, but not nearly as tough as the effort it took to train through all the bad weather, endless miles and injuries to get here. Each runner has his/her own reason for running Boston and it is that motivation that carries them through. For Heather and I it is the memory of Nick and the ability to give back to the less fortunate by raising funds for people who are struggling with their own life marathons. Thanks to Lazarus House and Bestsy Leeman for giving us the opportunity.

To all of you who have helped us along the way we want you to know that we will never be able to thank you enough. Your kind words, encouragement and financial support has been awesome and will carry both Heather and I to the finish tomorrow...even if we have to swim there.

As Roger Miller says in this same song...

ALL YOU GOTTA DO IS PUT YOUR MIND TO IT
KNUCKLE DOWN, BUCKLE DOWN, DO IT, DO IT, DO IT

See you in Boston!!!

PS: For those of you who might be out on the course...Heather an I are planning to start out at 9 min./mile pace. We start around 10:30 so if my knee holds out till 13 miles we should be half way around 12:30 (give or take 10 minutes to get through the crowd at the start). We both have royal blue singlets with a white stripe on the front and with our names. I will have black wind pants and Heather will have on black tights. We will be wearing two of Nick's baseball hats...Heather has a camoflauge and mine is blue and says "Irish" on it. If it is raining Heather will have a Navy Blue Boston Marathon jacket and I have a black New Balance one.

For those that might be tracking us online...our numbers are 20640 (Heather) and 20641. We haven't even started and Heather is already ahead of me.

Youth is great....Too bad it's wasted on the young.

2007-03-30T14:30:00.000-05:00

I heard this quote years ago but I'm just realizing how prophetic it really is. In my past life (back when I was a youngster in my 30's), training for a marathon consisted of lacing up a new pair of shoes and getting out for a regular run 6 days a week. Little or no stretching, little concern for weather, no plan for water or gatorade, no concern for the size of the hills on the route, or even a thought about injuries. Just me, the road and my thoughts. Ahhh, the good old days.

Today, I wouldn't think about doing a run over 5 miles without water and a MP3 player. If the weather looks bad I'll retreat to the treadmill at the gym (bad weather defined as too cold, too windy, too wet, too dark, too many leaves on the ground, too many beers last night...). If the hill is too big (as defined by taking more than 10 seconds to get to the top), find another route...preferably downhill (Boston is actually a net downhill marathon...although you would have a hard time convincing me while I'm halfway up Heartbreak Hill).

You can imagine my surprise when I started training for this year's marathon much like I had in the past and everything did not work the way it use to. First to go was the endurance. Lesson One: the body needs more rest between runs than in the past and stretching is now a critical part of keeping the leg muscles from contorting into knots that leave me walking like Frankenstein. The first to object was my left calf which would seize up when running up hill. In my infinite wisdom and denial I proceeded to ignore the warnings and instead altered my stride to favor the calf. That resulted in a problem with the right hamstring that required I shorten my stride to keep from pulling the muscle, particularly on downhills. With uphills and downhills out, a limp on the left leg, short hopping stride on the right I was pretty much restricted to running only on relatively flat terrain, around my neighborhood. Next to go was the right knee whenever I would get over 11 miles. As with any machine that is out of balance, the parts that are doing things that they are not made to do soon wear out. In this case it was my IT Band. In my blind wish to keep training I ignored all this until a neighbor asked me if I had seen the poor deformed man that was limping back and forth around the neighborhood. Lesson Two: when hurt, seek help right away...And see Lesson One.

In an attempt to make up for ignoring the timely application of the above lessons, and with only three weeks to go before the marathon, I implemented a crash course in body maintenance. I started with a quick trip to the doctors to get a cortisone shot in my right knee. This was followed by several days of rest, ice baths (yupp...you sit in a tub of ice...it's a modern day version of medieval torture tactics), and stretching (you can teach an old dog new tricks...if he is desperate enough). Next up was a sports massage. I could do a whole blog on sports massages but I think the best way to explain the experience is to relay the response from the massage therapist when I asked him if his wife appreciated that she could have a professional massage whenever she wanted. He responded," When I first started, I use to do massages at my house. After hearing the screams from the first few clients she has never let me do a massage on her."

So, with less than three weeks until the marathon my body is tuned up and I'm ready to start training...again. At this point I'm pretty sure I will be at the starting line with Heather. I'm just not sure about the finish line.

One thing I do know....if doing my first marathon had involved all of this effort, I'm not sure I ever would have made it to the starting line. I have new found respect for anyone running their first marathon at my age.

I now know what a hamster feels like

2007-03-19T16:08:00.000-05:00

When the BAA (Boston Athletic Association) originally planned the date for the Boston Marathon they clearly didn't take into consideration that training for the marathon would require running through some of the worst weather of the year. Runners who live in northern New England and who are first time Boston Marathoners may find it a cruel joke that in addition to finding time and energy to to run 35-50 miles a week they have to face the challenges of 3 months of winter weather that would make a polar bear think twice about going outside.

One might suggest that the Boston Marathon application come with a disclaimer that reads something like this:

In addition to paying your $200 entry fee for the privilege of running "the" Marathon, you are responsible for finding your way to the starting line in the remote town of Hopkington (where the roads will be closed in the wee hours of the morning), and determining how any extra clothes you wear to the start to stay warm in the hours you wait for the start will make it to the finish line in Boston (we recommend you leave them behind in Hopkington where they will be collected and given to those them need them).

You also recognize that running a marathon is a strenuous event and will require months of training at 30-50 miles/week (your mileage may vary), numerous 15-18 mile training runs (followed by ice baths), hundreds of pain relief tablets, several pairs of expensive running shoes (you can buy cheaper ones but budget for more pain relief tablets and add in some doctor visits). Given the requirement to train through the winter months, you may face running in some extreme weather conditions including snow, driving rain (sometimes frozen so that it stings when it hits your face), icy roads (it helps to train behind the sanding trucks), 50+ MPH winds (good practice for running in place), and sub-zero wind chills (be careful to chip the frost from eye-brows to avoid running into parked cars or street signs). Runners should also practice "safe running" including wearing bright clothes, headlamps if running in the dark, and reflective vests and flashers (although these will make better targets for the occasional beer cans from passing cars).

Despite all this, there will be 10,000+ runners at the staring line in Hopkington. And the amazing part is that most of them have already run a marathon to qualify for a race number in Boston and would not blink a frosted eye at the above description.

So what does this have to do with Hamsters? Last Saturday was my scheduled day for a long run. You may remember from my last blog that I'm running a bit behind in my training and there is little flexibility in the schedule, so every long run is critical. So early Saturday morning I wake to 8-10" of slushy snow, high winds, frozen rain and a forecast that it will turn to rain over the coming hours. My mom didn't raise no fool (although Pam would debate that at times) so off I headed to the YMCA to do my long run on a treadmill. 15 miles. Over two hours.

Long runs outside offer the pleasure of breathing the fresh air, experiencing the changing scenery, and exploring new neighborhoods. Treadmills have the unique benefit of allowing you to count the number of tiles in the wall in front of you, experience the coming and going of numerous recreational runners and to stare at a display that constantly reminds you of the slow progress you are making. A long run on a treadmill is clearly an un-natural act. Even the treadmills agree...they shut off automatically at an hour and you have to restart them to continue (this could be me Hamster Wheel Gone Wrong ).

I have a renewed sympathy for hamsters that are kept in a cage with just a hamster wheel. I pledge if I ever get another one I will buy it one of those habitrail habitats that can be reconfigured to keep it entertaining.

BTW...the above should in no way reflect negatively on the BAA. They do a great job organizing one of the most logistically challenging races in the world. It's one of the charms of the race that it is not like all the others.

Marthon Training is Like Credit Cards

2007-03-07T16:26:00.000-05:00

Someone asked me the other day..."How do you train for a Marathon?". There are two ways to answer...the short and the long. The short usually starts with a smart-ass answer like "very slowly" or "by putting one foot in front of the other". The long answer would create a short book that would rival the Harry Potter series, and I find that a non-runner quickly get's bored with a marathon runners detailed answer to the question (at least with my detailed answer).

But in truth, there is nothing short about running (or training for) a marathon. There is no shortcut to the training, you either put in the miles and do your best to prepare for the race, or you don't and you pay the price on the day of the marathon. Pay me now or Pay me later.

A few facts (at least they are my interpretation of the facts based on prior marathons) that might help to put this in perspective:

- When you reach the 18 mile mark you are about half way in the race. Yupp...I know the math doesn't work out but believe me the last 8 miles can be far tougher than the first 18.
- Somewhere between 16 and 19 miles your body runs out of fuel. You have burned all the carbs that your body has stored and now you are running on pure willpower. In runners terminology this is called "hitting the wall". It can feel more like the Great Wall of China has fallen on you. Training long distances teaches your body to deal with it (mentally and physically).
- By 20 miles your shoes are having their own personal crisis. Having supported your pounding body weight for the last 2 - 3 hours the cushioning in your shoes have given up the ghost. It's a little know fact that the cushioning in running shoes compress during a run and then expand again between runs. Even the best shoes will be toast by this point.
- There is an art to drinking during the race. You can drink too much, drink too little, or drink the wrong stuff. Runners have died from the first two and have collapsed from the third. I was running a marathon with a friend who had been drinking only water during the race and around 19 miles began to weave a bit. We knew there was trouble when she mistook a band playing on the side of the road as a water stop. It took a half hour in an aid station dumping salt in her mouth to get her electrolytes back to normal.

Training is all about acclimating your body to the physical and mental challenges of the race. Pay me now or pay me later.

Which leads to the discussion of Credit Cards. I heard a statistic the other day that if someone has $5000 on their credit card and makes the minimum payment each month it will take 12 years to pay off the $5k plus interest. And that is assuming they don't charge anything else. Between interest and late fees the numbers can become overwhelming. Delaying payments or paying the minimum just digs the hole deeper.

Marathon training is all about getting in your miles. Missing your mileage goals is like missing your credit cards payments. If you get behind in your miles (payments), you have to run more (pay more) to catch up. The more you run to catch up the more likely that you will get injured. If you get injured you have to take time off and in turn that puts you further behind in your miles. It's the reason so many people who plan to run a marathon never make it to the starting line.

So how are we doing? Heather is doing well having run another 18 miler last weekend. Dad is struggling with injuries and still has not gotten beyond 11 miles. It could be age or it could be that I got behind with a week of Bronchitis and then got injured pushing to catch up. But regardless, it will be a challenge to get the necessary miles in before race day.

But I have lots of inspiration to keep me going and I intend to be at the starting line with Heather regardless of training (I won't comment on where I'll be when she finishes). I was helping out at Lazarus House last week and I was so impressed by the difference they are making in people's lives. I also have been incredibly impressed by the support of family and friends, both with donations and messages. Bless you all for the support...it really helps...especially on cold mornings these days when I need to get outside to run.

For those of you that still wish to contribute you can do it online at Lazarus House http://www.lazarushouse.org/BostonMarathon/default.asp or if you are more comfortable sending a check drop me and email (david.fowler@comcast.net) and I will let you know where to mail it.

BTW...if you are interested in a great book about the Boston Marathon check out 26 miles to Boston by Michael Connelly.

Boston Marathon Updates

2007-02-27T09:54:00.000-05:00

Many of you have asked me for updates on how Heather and I are doing on our Boston Marathon training, fund raising and in general dealing with the challenges of life without Nick. Rather than bury everyone with emails I'll be using this blog to keep you updated on our progress and to give you some insights into the highs and lows of training to face 26 miles (and 385 yards).

For those of you that may be new to this story, my daughter Heather and I will be running the Boston Marathon this year (April 16th) in memory of my son Nick. Nick had been a distance runner in high school, although he would be quick to tell you he only ran to get in shape for Lacrosse. Getting an official number for the Boston Martathon is traditionally restricted to elite runners who have run qualifying times at other marathons, but each year the BAA adopts a small number of charities and provides numbers to help them with fund raising. One of those charities this year is the Lazarus House in Lawrence MA. which lost it's food pantry warehouse in last year's flood. http://www.lazarushouse.com/

Life has strange twists and turns at times. Leading a number of the fund raising events at Lazarus House (including the Boston Marathon effort) is a wonderful, giving, high energy woman, Betsy Leeman. Betsy's daughter Alissa was Nick's best friend. For two years they were almost inseparable (we use to call them the velcro twins).

So...thanks to Betsy, Heather and I have been blessed with official Boston Marathon numbers and will be working to raise donations for the Lazarus House. If you have a moment, check out their website. They offer a broad range of services not just aimed at helping people with today's problems but also helping them build a happy and self sustaining life. And while you are there, if you are interested in donating toward our marathon efforts you can do it on-line at the web site. Just click on the Boston Marathon tab at the top of the screen and scroll down to the list of runners. Click on the "DONATE" button next to our names and it will walk you through the rest. Our heartfelt thanks to all of you that have donated already. Nick would be thrilled and you are helping so many people who need a little extra support to rebuild their lives.

OK...so how's the training going. Having the advantage of training in the Los Angeles warm winter, Heather's training is going pretty well. While she is not getting in as many running days a week as she would like (some excuse about her law firm job requiring a substantial amount of her time), she is getting in her long runs (I believe she did a 16 miler last week).

Dad on the other hand has been struggling with weather, some old running injuries, and a bad case of Bronchitis. So far my long run has only been 11 miles and with only 7 weeks to go it will be challenging. Heather says I'm just making excuses for when she kicks my butt. I haven't played the age card yet.

I'll attempted to keep this updated on a regular basis but also feel free to drop me a note with questions or words of encouragement.

Cheers...