Another year but anything but another Boston Marathon

 

Running a marathon is always special (at least for the runner) and running the Boston Marathon, the oldest and most elite marathon, is even more so.   Last year however it turned from euphoria to disaster in just a few minutes altering the lives of hundreds caught up in the bombing.  

I was one of the lucky ones, finishing just ahead of the explosions but many of the runners I know were not so lucky.  A number of them have family members who were injured in the blast and many more were not able to finish, getting stuck out on the course when they shut down the race. 

For those runners, coming back to run the race this year was not a question at all.   Every runner I spoke with emphatically planned to return and finish what they started, not just for themselves but in memory and support of all the people who were injured or killed.   They were not alone.  Runners from around the world went online to voice their support of Boston and pledge to be there this year.  The message was clear, we won’t let a few attention seeking, maniacal, weak minded, hate mongering, idiots(I may have gotten a little carried away here…or not) intimate us into being afraid.  And it didn’t stop there.  I predict there will be more spectators on the course this year than in the history of the race.

At this point you might think “There can’t be that many crazy people out there who not only want to run a marathon but will work there butt’s off to try to qualify.”     It’s a testament to the human race that diversity has spawn enough of us to more than fill the rosters at Boston.  In fact, the BAA expanded the field for just this year from 27,000 to 36,000 to accommodate the increased interest in participating.  To give the fastest runners first shot at entry they stagger the registration based on how many minutes you are under your qualifying time (20 minutes under first, then 10 minutes under, then 5 minutes under).  Despite the increase, all but 5000 of the slots were filled by runners who were at least 5 minutes under their qualifying time, and thousands of runners who qualified and sent in applications were not able to get in.

So another year but not just another marathon for me.  This one will be special for all kinds of reasons, not the least of which I will be running for Help in the Nick of Time to raise funds for families impacted by the bombing.     I can’t think of a better way to help others, honor those we have lost and offer a middle finger to those that would try to take away our freedoms.

 

 

 

A Marathon Day like no other....

For the last 6 years I’ve used this post-marathon blog to give insights to what race day in Boston is like and how I did personally in attempting to achieve the finish line. This one will be different.

When I sat down to write this blog I found myself just staring at the screen. Even days later I’m at a loss to organize and express the range of emotions of the day and days that followed. So I’ll ask your forgiveness in advance if you find this blog a bit unorganized, over emotional at times and lacking the usual humor. I hope it is easier to read than it was to write.

Nervous excitement is the best description I can give for the emotional state of the runners at the staging area in Hopkinton. As I’ve mentioned before, it looks like a mini-Woodstock with runners spread out over the fields and just about every available dry space around the school. Because they close the roads into town at 7:30 most runners have to wait outside for 2-3 hours before the start of the race. That’s a lot of pent-up nervous energy.

I rode out from Boston to the start in Hopkinton with a couple of busloads of charity runners who are part of the Charity Teams group. These are some of the runners who agree to raise $5000 for a race-sponsored charity in order to get an official race number. On my bus most of the runners were first time Boston Marathoners and many were first time marathoners. Susan Hurley is the angel that runs Charity Teams, which trains these runners to be able to complete the run and at the same time helps them with the challenges of fund raising. In the most elite marathon in the world these runners will measure their achievement not by their race times but by the funds that they raised to help others and making it to the finish line.

The weather was perfect and by all accounts this should have been a day of great pride, accomplishment and joy accompanied by runner stories about battling aches and pains, Herculean efforts to conquer Heartbreak Hill, wading through a sea of cups at water stops and humorous costumes and T-shirts. Instead the stories are about the disappointment of being stopped less than a mile from the finish, the fear of not knowing what happened to family members and friends, and the horror of discovering a relative or friend has been injured.

From a running perspective I had a good day. I ran the second half of the race a bit faster than the first half. Tired, sore and happy to have requalified for next year, I shuffled through the post finish line gauntlet where the volunteers hand you water, wrap you in a mylar blanket, give you a bag of post race food and put a medal over your head. All this takes about 15+ minutes and then you enter a section a few hundred yards beyond the finish where you pick up your clothes that you checked in at the starting line. I was standing at that point changing into warm clothes when the explosions went off, the plumes of smoke shot into the air, and the world turned to crap.



My view towards finish line 10 min after the explosions

 From where we were we couldn’t see beyond  the finish line to determine what had happened. I started moving back towards the finish line but the stream of hundreds of incoming runners funneling down the street prevented any movement in that direction. Shortly after, the stream of runners just stopped and first responders had cordoned off the road to keep people out and allow room for emergency vehicles to get in.



Runners stopped less than a mile from finish.

Out on the course, the runners had been stopped or redirected to a safe area with little or no information about what was happening. Social media took over and runners with phones began filling in others on what was happening. The cell phone network went to hell as runners tried to call family to let them know they were safe, family members called runners to check on them and runners still on the course tried to arrange logistics to get into Boston or get home. I was waiting at the finish for a friend who I offered a ride home. He was safe over a mile out but it took me almost 30 minutes of dialing and trying to text him to finally get through.

My story was tame compared to some of my friends and acquaintances. A family that until recently lived across the street had a son who graduated high school with my son Nick. He was running and his parents were standing near the finish waiting for him. Both parents are still in the hospital with numerous shrapnel wounds. One of the charity runners from our bus had his wife and kids in the Forum restaurant waiting for him when the bomb went off outside. They were blown off their seats as a hail of glass blew into the restaurant. The mom of another runner from our bus is still in the hospital and was operated on yesterday. The boyfriend of another of the charity runners from the bus lost both his legs.

In the midst of all this tragedy were tremendous examples of selflessness and heroism. Volunteers and spectators around the finish line jumped in to help first responders deal with the wounded without concern there might be a third or fourth bomb. A spectator near the finish jumped the fence and saved the life of one of the injured spectators by putting a tourniquet on his leg and comforting him until first responders could get him to the hospital. It was the boyfriend I mentioned earlier who lost both his legs.  

Forum Restaurant

When the bomb went off outside the Forum Restaurant, the family I mentioned earlier were helped out the back of the restaurant by bystanders so the children wouldn’t have to face the carnage out front, and then given shelter at a nearby condo. At the same time a number of the men waiting for charity runners rushed out through the broken glass and into the street to help the victims. They are the faces you see in the pictures carrying victims and pushing wheelchairs. When I crossed the finish line I was near a marine who had just finished in full gear with a heavy pack on his back. He was headed to the medical tent for blisters. I later heard he was in the middle of getting help when the bombs went off. He jumped up, put on his boots, blisters and all, and rushed out to help. From all over I heard stories of people sharing phones with runners so they could call their family, spectators giving stranded runners clothes literally off their backs and money to get home or to their hotels, restaurants providing free food, and people opening their homes to runners and family members who were stranded for the night. And then there are the race volunteers, first responders and law enforcement who responded quickly to help the injured, the racers on the course and the families who were worried and waiting at the finish line. While I would like to believe all this would happen in any city in the US, I couldn’t be prouder to be a Bostonian.

So where do we go from here? I’ll make a few predictions. I believe that this will not materially change the format of the Boston Marathon. If that was the goal of the bombers they picked the wrong city and unquestionably the wrong event. We are marathoners;
dedicated, stubborn, passionately addicted to our freedom on the roads and undeniably a little crazy. Not the kind of people that scare off easy.  

I believe that this will not reduce either the number of runners or the number of spectators next year. In fact, I expect this will be the best attended marathon in the history of the race.   My daughter wrote this assessment from a spectators view http://www.tiffanyschmidt.com/boston-love/ .   It eloquently sums up what I heard from many others.   I believe that some of the injured spectators will ultimately run the Boston Marathon. On that day I hope to be running along side them to see it.

Finally, thanks to all who reached out to me to make sure I was OK. It was heartwarming to receive all your messages at a really difficult time. Some of you asked if I will be back next year? Absolutely! I’m a runner and when faced with pain and tragedy running is what we do.

Please add your thoughts and comments, they are greatly appreciated, especially after this week.

And then there was ONE ….

Boston Marathon Start

One day until THE race. THE Boston Marathon. The Holy Grail of Marathons, the marathon of all marathons. At least that's the way most marathon runners think about Boston.

There was a lot of proof of that on display yesterday when I went into Boston to pick up my number (15780) for the race (I’ll be starting around the middle of the 27,000 runners). While we waited in line I spoke to a number of runners who had made the pilgrimage to Boston to run it the first time. No question it is one of the oldest and most elite marathons in the world (outside of the Olympics) with qualifying times that will eliminate most casual runners (is there such a thing as a casual marathoner?). As the popularity of running marathons has increased they have even lowered the qualifying times in the last few years. Did I mention you need to re-qualify every year? So to earn a number to be at the starting line did not mean just a commitment to finishing, it was a commitment to racing.

The excitement around the number pickup area was contagious. Runners having pictures taken in front of maps of the course holding their numbers in front of them, trying on the bright yellow Boston Marathon running shirt they just received, going through their bag of "goodies" that come with their number, or registering to have their progress on the course sent to their family’s cell phones. Think graduation day, with the runners receiving their numbers like the graduates getting their diploma. For a short time the excitement and reality of reaching this point replaces the nervousness of the upcoming race.

There is also a runner’s expo where you can sample and buy almost anything that has to do with running. It is amazing to me that I was ever able to finish a marathon 30 years ago without the help of all the new shoe, sock, compression shorts, hat and clothes technology that I’m now told is a "must" for success. Not to mention the energy drinks, power cookies, energy bars, yogurt drinks, gels, candies, grains and mixes I need to be taking before, during and for days after the race. They have catchy names like Reboot, Bioplasma, and Chia Shots that will deliver the necessary proteins, Omega 3, fiber, electrolytes, carbohydrates, fluids and antioxidants. Silly me, I thought I just needed to eat a lot of pasta and drink a lot of water. If I listen to the marketing pitches on what I need to do to survive I should already be dead.

　

Back to the first time runners standing in line. The stories from those qualified Boston Rookies were as varied as the places they came from. The young guy from the mid-west who ran his first marathon and he said it was a fluke that he ran fast enough to qualify for Boston. He felt he needed to do Boston at least once in his life and felt this might be his only chance. The mom from California who started running 5K’s (3.1 miles) to teach her children about health and exercise and found it has changed her life as well. It was her children who encouraged her to come to Boston and they are there to cheer her on. The older gentleman (had to be in his 70’s) who didn’t start running till late in his life and had this on his bucket list. He and his wife shared a passion for outdoor activities and she will be there to cheer him on. It will be her last chance as she is terminally ill.

But despite the high bar for qualifying, for several thousand dedicated runners, a ticket to the starting line is within reach if they are willing to take on the added burden of not only months of training but also months of fund raising. The BAA and John Hancock (race sponsor) provide charities with access to a limited number of race numbers if the runner is willing to raise $4-5000 for the charity. A friend of mine, Susan Hurley, coaches several hundred of the charity team runners and helps them with their fund raising. Almost all would never qualify and many have never run a marathon before (the equivalent of getting to ride in the Kentucky Derby as your first horse race). I’ve had the privilege of running with a number of these runners and all have stories for why they are doing it and amazingly almost all of them are centered on helping someone else and frequently in memory of someone they have lost.

It all comes together as we stand on the starting line Monday. For every runner, getting to the starting line was a journey and every journey has a story. For some it will be about the competition and the glory but for many others it will be about making their life, the lives of the people around them, and the lives of the families in the charities they support, a bit better. It’s amazing to me the positive ripple affect this one race will have touching so many lives. Now if we could only bottle that and give it away at every expo….
One more day….

I can fix it myself!

Ever meet one of those people who refuses to hire a plumber, electrician or other repairperson because they can fix it themselves? You know the type, they have the partially fixed lawn mower in the garage for the last two years, or the wires hanging out of the ceiling in guestroom where that fan and light were going to be installed. My wife would say it’s a guy thing, something equivalent to never asking for directions or yelling at the TV during a sporting event. Making it a "guy thing" means she can insinuate it means me without actually accusing me directly.

She may have a point. I recently decided to fix a burner on our cook top. Online it was described as a 20 min. job and needs a $30 part. Several trips to the parts store, several hours of finagling and $100 later I managed to fix the burner but took out the burner light in the process. Pam would call it a comedy of errors, I call it a learning experience.

But what does this have to do with running? To some degree it’s that same "I can fix it myself" mentality that carries over into running injuries. I just don’t find it rewarding to run off to a doctor every time I get a cold, some achy joint or muscle, or flu symptoms (another guy thing?). I figure I can fix it myself or worst case it will degrade to something worst like pneumonia or torn tendon and then I can justify I need a professional to help. Part of this is learned behavior. I get injured running, I go to the doctor, they ask me how it did it, I tell them, and they tell me to stop running. Like that is going to happen.

But there are times when you do need to turn to a professional. I was on a run with my daughter one day and I rolled my ankle on a curb. I jump back up and start limping around saying "It’s OK, I’ll just walk it off" (another guy thing?). Within a minute I had a muffin top forming over the top of my shoe. OK, so I can’t walk it off, but if I just ice it the swelling will go down and it will be OK. Next day when the foot turned black (not black and blue…black) it seemed appropriate to get it checked. Eight weeks later I got off the crutches and out of the cast.

This year I reached another one of those points. Last year I ran 3 marathons in less than 12 months without any serious injuries. But in the fall I came up lame with a mysterious back of the knee/hamstring problem. Even resting it for a couple of months didn’t seem to make a difference. So I found it completely rational to go seek professional help. I went online. But despite the sage advice of other runners nothing I seemed to do could heal the injury. I finally broke down and went to a doctor.

Apparently I’m not alone. A recent study found that 50% of runners get sidelined each year due to injuries. The aging population of runners and accumulated injuries over the years have a lot to do with that. I’d say I’m guilty on both counts. Some of these injuries come with classy names like, Dead Butt Syndrome, Nippi Erectie Rubatosis, Shin Splints, Blackened Toenails, Runner’s Knee, and Snapping Hip. But most of these injuries are fairly minor and with some early advice/research and a bit of TLC they can be handled by the runner. One thing running does teach you is to listen to your body. Pam would say listening isn’t my strong suit but relative to running I think I’m getting better at it.

　
We haven’t fixed my problem but between the doctor and I we managed to get me to where I can run, although very slow and with limited mobility. It looks like it will be another one of those years where we won’t know until the second half whether the legs will hold up or not. But of course it they don’t, I can always try to fix it myself.

　

　

Inspiration from ????

During the 1992 Olympics in Barcelona, track star Derek Redmond was favored to medal in the 400 Meter sprint. Half way through the race he pulled up lame with a hamstring tear (very painful, I can attest to that). The story of what happened next has been ranked as No. 3 in a list of the 50 most stunning Olympic moments. You can watch the video here  http://www.godvine.com/What-This-Racer-Does-is-the-Most-Inspirational-Thing-You-ll-Ever-See-1169.html .

Why is it that a couple of years after a major sporting event most of us have trouble remembering who won (unless of course it it’s your favorite team), yet events like Derek’s stick in our minds. Granted, some of us have reached the age where remembering our own names may be difficult at times, but there does seem to be more of an emotional attachment to the inspirational events in our lives. Without looking I couldn’t remember who won the Boston Marathon 5 years ago even though I ran it. But I can tell you in great detail about the first time I ran into Dick Hoyt pushing his son Rick up heartbreak hill in a wheelchair. I was setting a pretty serious pace when I came up along side them and as I wished him well he turned and smiled (no small feat while pushing his 20 year old son up a killer hill). I still get a lump in my throat when I think about it, and every year since when I have been fortunate enough to bump into them at races. Last year Dick and Rick did it again at Boston for the 30th time.

I saw a report the other night on a woman (Stephanie Decker) who had lost both her legs in a tornado. She was covering up her children protecting them from the house that was coming apart around them. She has artificial limbs now and has learned how to walk with them. Amazingly, she is not bitter at all, expressing her joy at what she has, not her anger at what she lost. Her next goal is to run a marathon.

On April 15th, 20+ thousand runners will descend on Boston for the 117th running of THE Marathon. Among them will be thousands of runners running to raise money for their charity of choice. Each has their own story on how they got there and what inspires them to train for such a grueling event. I’ve had the pleasure of hearing some of those stories over the years. Some make my heart ache, others make it soar but in all cases I take away a memory and a little bit of inspiration that I can use when the going gets tough. It’s no secret that the hard work is not the day of the race (unless of course you count last year with the 90 degree weather), the hard part is the months of training. That’s when you need the motivation to get out of bed early to slog through the snow, or skip that Friday night out with friends to be ready for your weekly long run Saturday morning. When you are running for someone else as well as yourself, it makes the choice a bit easier. I had a friend tell me that between training and fund raising it literally consumes all her free time. She said it as a fact, not a complaint, and I know if I asked her if she regretted the decision to run for a charity she would think I was nuts.

Another friend of mine, Susan Hurley, runs an organization called Charity Teams that helps charity runners prepare to run the Boston Marathon, as well as helping them with their fund raising. Many of them are first time marathoners and over the past few years all of them have finished the race. No small feat given the normal dropout rates in Boston. On top of that, the runners she has taken under her wings have raised over $2.7M for their charities. Most of those runners come with their own stories of inspiration but if they need a bit more they don’t have to look far. Susan is not only a source of inspiration but has positively touched numerous lives in the process. By most definitions a true hero.

So why do we love inspirational stories? Hell if I know. Maybe because a little inspiration is like a swift kick in the butt. It’s a call to action to get us moving. Whether we fall down or it propels us forward is up to us. No question on Marathon day a bunch of us will be using it as fuel to keep us going.

Mother Nature can be a real “B----“

That’s “B” for Beauty. I know some of you were thinking I meant something else but I’ve learned you don’t want to mess with Mother Nature. Take this winter in Boston for example. In the last 10 days we have had 2 snow storms that have generously presented almost 3 feet of snow, temperatures ranging from single digits to almost 50 degrees (within a 24 hour period), rain, and of course several days of 25-35 mph winds. Quite a different story from last year’s snowless winter. Last winter’s nice weather (nice being a relative term) of snow and ice free roads and the somewhat pleasant winter runs spoiled me. Of course Mother Nature, making sure to show she is firmly in charge and has a sense of humor, then presented us with 90 degree weather on marathon day. I’d choose 20 degrees over 90 degrees any day. Mother Nature…if you are listening, that wasn’t a request for this year’s marathon.

The toughest part about training for the Boston Marathon while living in Boston is the weather. You have to do your heaviest training in the worst weeks of the winter. It leads to some pretty interesting calendar gymnastics as you try to figure out how to inject 7 hours a week of running into a busy schedule and at the same time work around a somewhat unpredictable Mother Nature. If you could listen in on a marathoner’s conversation with themselves as they are planning their week of runs it might sound something like this….I can do 6 miles Monday and 7 on Tuesday but if it rains Monday and freezes overnight the roads will be icy Tuesday so maybe I should plan to skip Tuesday and run Weds and Thursday except I have an early meeting Thursday and I’ll need to do 10 miles that morning so I’ll have to get up real early and run in the dark which will be tough cause if it is warm on Weds the snow will melt and freeze overnight and I won’t be able to see the ice not to mention that with the snow banks are so high and the streets so narrow there is not a lot of room to scramble when the occasional car runs you off the road so maybe I should skip Thursday and run Friday and Saturday but my long run is suppose to be Saturday and I heard it might snow Friday night into Saturday which will mean running on unplowed streets and you remember how hard it is to run in the snow where it is not only difficult to get traction but you actually can injure your hamstrings and calf muscles so maybe I should try to do the long run on Friday before the storm and then a short run Saturday in the snow unless the storm comes early then I could go back to the original plan of an hour on Friday and do 2+ hours Saturday once the streets are plowed. That might work. Now, what was it I was going to do Monday? Nobody ever accused marathoners of being laid back when it comes to getting their weekly mileage in.

But if you do have to run in the snow or extreme cold there are tools to help. For a start, there are little “studs” you can strap onto your shoes for better traction called Yaktrax (sounds like something you would see in the snow after a college fraternity party). For the cold I like to double up on gloves and socks. Feet are one of the rougher problems as the running shoes are designed to be comfortably snug to begin with and don’t leave a lot of room for stuffing in the necessary 6+pairs of socks I would need to keep my feet from turning into blocks of ice. Of course the feet eventually do thaw out several miles into the run and you are then rewarded with that attention grabbing “prickly” feeling you get when the blood begins flowing again to a frozen part of the body.

And then of course there is all the “great” advice you get online like “run with a buddy or your pet”. I don’t know about most dogs but both of mine are much too smart to sign up for joining me when I’m dressed up with enough layers to look like the Pillsbury doughboy. I did run with a buddy a couple of times but all we did was complain about how cold we were and how stupid it was to be outside. Neither was helpful and I certainly don’t need anyone to remind me of the latter.

While the snow has been a bit of a challenge this year the more significant “pain in the butt” has been the wind. The other day it was blowing so hard that when I ran into the wind it was like being on a treadmill. The legs were moving but I wasn’t going anywhere. At times I was bent so far forward into the wind that I looked like the hunchback of Notre Dame. If the wind had stopped it would have resulted in a rather nasty face plant.

Speaking of treadmills, there is always that option for the less adventurous. Some runners swear by them in the winter and are comfortable running for hours in one spot. I’ve tried it a few times and once I even ran for an hour an half on one. To say it was boring would be an understatement but it certainly gives you a better perspective on what it is like to be a mouse on one of those running wheels. The mice by the way, apparently really like running on the wheel and researchers use it to study autism in mice as well as mouse behavior. How they determined the correlation of mice behavior to human behavior (or for that matter that a mouse has autism) is outside my scope of knowledge or interest but I suspect they would tell me my dislike for treadmills says something disturbing about my mental state.

But I have to admit, I do like running outside in the winter. Just as long as it is not too cold, too windy, too snowy or too icy. In New England that means I’m good about two days a month. The rest of the time I just have to get along with Mother Nature.

If running keeps you young, why do I feel so old?

I was reading an article the other day on life expectancy and it predicted that based on my age, health and parents longevity that I would likely live to be 100. I haven’t really planned for to be around that long and it raises interesting questions on what will come first…running out of money or running out of legs (although I could always compete in the wheelchair division).

And if you are thinking, no one runs a marathon at 100…think again. In 2011 a 100 year old man set the record for the marathon in his age group (granted there are not a lot of competitors in that group). To match his feat (8 hours) I would have to run for 40 more years and not slow down more than a hour a decade. No small feat given how old and battle scarred my legs currently feel. Heck, I’d be happy to keep up with my father-in-law who just won a 5K at 86.

The affect of age on running is like the affect of age on a fine cheese….eventually it just stinks. Getting past the initial aches and pains of the first few miles is like getting that stinky cheese past your nose…if you want to taste the good feeling you have to get through the stinky stuff first. As I get older it seems to take more than a few miles to get past the “stinky stuff.”

Don’t get me wrong, I like running (and cheese), I just don’t like what getting old does to my running. But for all the moaning and groaning about the aches and pains of being an age-challenged runner (it’s not polite to say “old” anymore) I wouldn’t trade being on the roads for any other form of exercise. For me, being a “geezer wheezer “ is just fine.

What does piss me off is being injured. It’s hard enough getting up at 5 AM on cold winter mornings to slog through a couple of hours of below-freezing running in the dark. But to do it limping from a sore hamstring or a painful knee, well let’s just say it’s certainly not the fun part.

So why do it? I could point to a recent article by Owen Andersen on the benefits of running to people over 60. Owen refers to a series of studies on the affects including the following:

What other things did mum forget to tell you about running? Well, she probably didn't mention that once you reach the age of 60, your HDL should rise by about 1.5 ticks for each additional 10 kilometres of running that you complete per week. Plus, for each 10 kilometres, your waist circumference will narrow by one centimetre, your hip circumference will do the same, your diastolic blood pressure will dive by .4 mm Hg, resting heart rate will go down by .6 beats, and blood-fat levels will decrease by 3.3 mg/dL. (Full article at http://www.pponline.co.uk/encyc/running-training-how-to-improve-your-economy-and-efficiency-691 )

It could also be that I’m just addicted. After 40+ years of running, I’m a street-pounding junkie. There’s a study on the Live Science web site that suggests that the endorphins released in runners become addictive over time. The study used rats to prove the point, and while I prefer not to be equated to rodents, my wife would certainly argue that when you take away my running the response can certainly resemble the negative aspects of withdrawal.

But the real reason I run marathons is because it’s my reminder that I’m blessed to have the ability and time to do it and I can use that gift to give back to the people who do not. It’s also a way for me to keep my son’s memory alive by dedicating the effort to the charity in his name, “Help in the Nick of time.” I’ll concede I like the health effects of running and there is no question there is a certain “high” to being fit, but before I started running for charities I only ran 1 marathon in 10 years. In the last 6 years I have done 9 and we have raised over $30,000 to help others.

I love win-win scenarios…I get the running benefits, the people we help get hope and assistance, and I get to do something that celebrates my son’s memory. Age be damned, what more can you ask for?

Marathons are for Sissies

 

When did running a marathon become passé? Recently an acquaintance asked me in passing what I do for exercise. I mentioned that I ran distance races and in the course of the conversation the Boston marathon came up. His response was along the lines of “that’s nice but have you ever done a Spartan Race”. He then proceeded to give me the blow by blow description of what sounded like a 5 mile run with periodic torture obstacles along the way. While he never said it outright, there was clearly a tone of “real men have moved on from simple marathons”.

There have always been crazy people willing to try insane feats of physical effort, and challenging others to join them (usually as a result of copious amounts of alcohol). But it does seem like over the last 30 years that the one-up–man ship has gone beyond what most people would considered reasonable.

I ran my first marathon in 1978, the same year the Iron Man Triathlon was run. At that time the Boston Marathon attracted about 5000 elite runners; the Hawaii Iron Man had 15. The number of people competing in Iron Man Triathlons (2.4 mile swim, 112 mile bike and a full marathon run - 26.2 miles) has doubled in the last 10 years to 170,000 per year (another 1 million participate in triathlons of shorter distances).

Dwarfing the growth in triathlons is the growth in the obstacle runs. Relatively short by comparison (most are 3-10 miles) their physical challenge is in the obstacles that have to be completed along the way. Standard obstacles might include climbing walls and hay bales, crawling in the mud under barb wire (sometimes electrified), carrying logs or sandbags up ski slopes, wading/swimming across rivers or pools of ice water, crossing logs over pits of snakes (I just made up the snakes), mud and butter covered monkey bars and rope climbs. Some of the more challenging include crawling through small tunnels on your belly, attempting to climb sheets of ice/snow or running through a maze of hanging electrical wires (http://toughmudder.com/events/vermont-2012/vermont-2012-course-map/). They come with names like Spartan Race, Warrior Dash, or Tough Mudder, and participation has grown from several thousand participants in the 2006-2007 timeframe to estimates of over 1 million participants in 2012.

If that is not enough for you there are always ultra marathons, running distances greater than 26.2miles. They come in two flavors: distance based (50 miles, 100 miles, 1000 miles), and those that are time based (as many miles as you can run in 6, 12, or 24 hours). Only 70,000 people compete in these annually. It’s hard to get your head around someone running 500 miles in 7 days but I have a friend (Pippa Davis) who was once the third fastest woman in US in the event. And for the especially sanity challenged you can choose to run these ultra’s in places like Death Valley or the Sahara desert.

Of course for me, I’m just happy to be one of the 600,000 who finished a marathon in the US last year (actually 2 marathons). And I’ll be even happier if the body hangs together long enough for me to make it through this year’s Boston Marathon. Like the last 6 years, I will be blogging my way through another New England winter training while raising funds for Help in the Nick of Time. Join me for what should be an entertaining blog trip leading up to the marathon. It will certainly be a lot more fun than competing in obstacle races, iron man triathlons or ultra marathons.

“Turn me over; I’m done on this side”

This quote is attributed to a Christian martyr named St. Lawrence as he was slow roasted to death over an open fire. While it would be overdramatic to say this year’s Boston Marathon was in any way a close comparison, one could easily see how the sentiment is a good fit.

For those of you that may not reside in the Boston area, this year’s race was one of the hottest (but not the hottest) on record. With temperatures along the route predicted to hit 90 degrees the race organizers (B.A.A.) started sending warnings to runners days in advance not to run if they had any recent illness or were not in top physical shape. By the day before the race that warning was extended to anyone who was a first time marathoner, or those that may not have experience with running distance in heat. To emphasize the concern, they took the unprecedented step of offering runners who did not run, the option to defer this year’s entry to next year. This is a big deal given to get a number in Boston runners either have to run a marathon under a qualifying time for their age group (each year), or get a number from a charity which comes with the added bonus of committing to raising $4000 for the charity.

This raised a little bit of a dilemma. Do you take the deferment and guarantee you will have a number next year or do you run knowing there is no way you can run under the qualifying time in that kind of weather. I was fortunate to have most of my family in town for race day support which provided me with plenty of “advice” on what I should do. Consensus was strongly in the camp of “you would be nuts to run”. Not much of an argument given their already established view of my mental state. Supporting my position to run were my twin 17 month old grandsons. While it was a bit difficult getting a straight answer from them, they did respond the same to “should I run?” as they did to “want a cookie?”. I took that as a yes. The only one without an opinion was my 4 month old granddaughter who only seemed to have a strong position on only two topics; being fed and being dry.
It’s hard for a runner who has spent months and uncounted hours of discomfort training for Boston to take a pass on race day. It's even harder when so many people have supported your effort. So the decision to run was not that hard. The run itself was a different story.

Race day starts at 4:30 AM, then in the car before 5:30 to drive to Boston to catch a bus at 6:30 that will take me out to the start in Hopkinton. Thanks to one of the most generous, fun and kindhearted people I know, Susan Hurley, I was able to get a seat on one of her charity buses. Those that have read my race day blogs from previous years know that what makes a charity bus a luxury bus on race day is that it has one of life’s little pleasures…a bathroom. It also has a collection of runners from all over the US who have not only trained for Boston but who have raised thousands of dollars for charity. Marathon runners have big hearts.

We were at the “runner’s village” just before 8AM giving me a couple of hours before my start time to walk the area, hydrate, talk to other runners, slather my body in Vaseline and sun screen, hydrate some more and of course make periodic trips to the port-a-johns. Because of the volume of runners, start times are staggered. The main field goes off at 10 AM which includes the 9000 fastest runners. Then at 10:20 the next fastest 9000 and finally at 10:40 the rest. It is so well organized that the 9000 runners will clear the start in less than 10 minutes, allowing 10 minutes to queue up the next 9000. A thing of beauty to watch.

It didn’t take long to realize it was going to be a tough day. 10 AM and it’s already 80 degrees and not a cloud or breeze of any kind. Just standing in the runner corrals at the start I was sweating. For the first few miles I stuck to the right side of the road where there was occasional shade. After that the sun was almost straight overhead and there was no escaping. On a normal day I would take a quick assessment of how I feel at half way, again at 16 miles as I go into the hills, and last when I crest heartbreak hill at about 21 miles. Each of these points gives me an opportunity to adjust my pace based on strength, aches, and pains. On this day at 5 miles I already knew I was in trouble and I started backing down on the pace even more.

Water stops were a madhouse. The race has water and Gatorade stops at each mile, on each side of the road offset by about 100 yards. Normally you can just stay on whatever side of the road you are on and catch a cup on the run from the outstretched hands of the volunteers. But given the heat, runners were stopping to get more than one cup to both drink and dump over their head. When runners stop to get a drink they block other runners from being able to run by and grab a cup and the result is a huge traffic jam. By the 5th mile I was grabbing water on both sides of the street when I could. Logistically it means you grab a cup on one side and then fight your way across the stream of runners to get to the water on the other side 100 yards down the road. You end up running more distance but the way my brain was melting I would have done anything just to get a cold cup to dump on my head.
By the time I reached the Wellesley girls at 13 miles I was toast…literally. Despite their screaming and offers of a kiss I couldn’t find the energy to oblige (not that I would normally do that). By the time I got to my family at 16 miles I was just trying to make it from one water stop to the next. Temperatures had hit 90 degrees and a significant number of runners were down to walking. The Gatorade spilled on the road was evaporating so fast that your shoes actually stuck to sugar remnants on the pavement at the water stops.

By the time I got to mile 19 I was stopping to drink and walk at the water stops. Starting up again was like the rusted tin man scene from Wizard of Oz only without the oil can to help. I’m sure it would have been humorous to watch if it wasn’t so pathetic.

I don’t usually wear a hat but with increasingly sparse coverage up top I figured I’d need it. Over the course of the day I must have dumped 3 dozen cups of water over it and it held ice on my head whenever I could find it. At mile 23 the visor shredded and by the end it literally fell apart at the seams.

Cramps started as I was headed up heartbreak hill and then seemed to move around over the next few miles. It started in the ankle, then chest, calf, thighs and hamstrings. I had been taking Gatorade at almost every water stop but my stomach was literally sloshing around and there was no way to get enough electrolytes into the body. As I turned on to Boylston Street where you can see the finish .3 mile away the cramps ganged up on me. As I tried to limp through the cramps and keep running I suspect I looked like some crazed Kabuki dancer.

So another year and another finish. I was way off my qualifying time so I will need to run another marathon before September to qualify for next year but that’s a problem for another day. I have to thank all the heroes of the day as there is no way I would have made it without their help. My family were awesome, standing in the sun and meeting me at 6 and 16 miles with bags of ice. The ice in my hat, mouth, and in places not to be mentioned helped to keep the body temperature down. The crowd and volunteers were exceptional. They had hoses out to spray the runners, they handed out water, oranges and occasionally ice. I especially want to thank the person that handed me a Popsicle at 22 miles. It was amazing how much that little gesture helped both physically and mentally.

And last but far from least, my thanks for all your words of support and encouragement and the donations to Help in the Nick of Time. Much like what Nick of Time does for families; your support helps me get through the tough times.

Until next year…stay well and God Bless.

It's all over except the ....

Pick your favorite answer…Waiting; Running; Worrying; Excitement; Eating? Probably all of the above sometime over the course of this weekend.
But given the weather forecast there may be a lot more angst about temperatures than anything else. Most Boston Marathon runners trained through winter weather at temperatures less than half what forecasters are predicting for Monday. So it’s understandable that they would be concerned about how their body will hold up in such heat.

They have good reason to be concerned. Not only does heat siphon off valuable energy trying to keep the body cool but it can lead to serious injury if the body temperature is not kept under control. Heat cramps, heat exhaustion, and ultimately heatstroke can lead to permanent damage to organs.

So am I worried? I’d say just a wee bit concerned but mostly just pissed off at mother nature. At my age I have enough hurdles already dragging my well worn sorry butt 26 miles without having to worry about whether I’m getting enough fluids and electrolytes or what my core body temperature might be. To add to the challenge, the Boston Marathon lowered the qualifying times you have to run to get in next year. I was already challenged to run fast enough to get under the new lower qualifying time for my age group so the heat may very well put it out of reach.

Worried about making it without melting my brain or losing body parts? No, I’ve done this before and while I was a lot younger at the time the following basic rules still apply:

- Go out slow. Comfortable is much more important than speed. Once you get in trouble with the heat it is really hard to recover.

- Drink at every water stop. Even if it is only a half cup it is important to continuously put water in the radiator.

- Drink some Gatorade….or something that can replace your electrolytes (salt works but downing salt packets is pretty nasty).

- If you are offered ice, take it. Even if you just hold it in your hand while it melts it will help lower your body temperature. I dropped some in my shorts one year resulting in an unusual running stride for the next quarter mile.

- Be careful of energy Gels and Goo. Many have caffeine in them which can take fluids out of your system. I watched this happen to a woman I was running a marathon with and she ended up in a medical tent at 20 miles with the doctors pouring salt packets in her mouth (that’s how I know it’s nasty).

- Watch for signs you are not getting enough fluids or are in trouble. First signs may be nauseous or cramps. At a marathon I ran in the fall it was around 70 degrees but humid. In the last 4 miles I got cramps in places I didn’t even know I had muscles.

- Sweating is your body’s air conditioner. It’s a good thing and trust me, no one out there will be offended.

Finally, to all my marathon friends who be running Monday….RELAX. You are prepared and if you are careful about your fluids you will be fine. Worrying about it all weekend won’t change mother nature (although a few prayers might help).

On the bright side, great weather brings out more spectators. And worst case, if I keel over there will be plenty of people around to help me out.

Speaking of support, thanks to everyone who sent along their well wishes and donations. Both are greatly appreciated and hopefully you have enjoyed riding along with me through the blog over the last couple of months. If all goes well I’ll take you for one more trip after it is all over.

Running on the edge….Quitting is not an option

I recently was approached by a friend of a friend who was planning to run a marathon. He was calling to ask for advice and started the conversation by proudly announcing he had bought the book “Marathon Training for Dummies” (a title that some might say is a bit redundant). When I asked how many miles a week he was running and for how long, he told me he hadn’t started yet. At this point I was tempted to suggest he start with the “Idiot’s Guide to Running”.

Why any sane person would want to start running with a marathon as the initial goal is beyond me. It occurred to me that maybe I should write a book called “The Smart Person’s Guide to Marathoning”. It could have chapters like “Pain: Learning to Live with and Love it”; “Port-a-Potties: my home away from home”; “Basking in the health benefits: wind burn, black toenails, swollen knees and heat rash”; “Enhancing your social life: trading alcohol for Gatorade”; “ Practical road skills: Dodging flying beer cans and burning cigarette butts” and of course “Time: I’ve got plenty so why not spend it running”. I figure any sane person would quickly bail on the idea of a marathon long before the end of the book. If by chance they do get to the end they are a prime candidate for the afore mentioned “Marathon Training for Dummies”.

But I digress. The question I typically get from non-marathoners is “What’s the toughest part of doing a marathon”? I can honestly say the second toughest is getting out the door for the first day of training. The toughest is keeping it up week after week, month after month as the distance, time commitment, and soreness increases.

I’ve mentioned before that I believe just about anyone with half a brain (or less) that sets their mind to it can run a marathon. But it does require a mental tenacity that far outweighs the physical effort required. This is why ideal marathoners often have a good balance of stubbornness and mental instability.

When you think about what it takes to commit to the training for a marathon it’s easy to see why most runners never make it to the starting line. Months of training 8-12 hours a week often at the cost of another hour in a warm bed or a night out with friends. But then who would want to miss all that quality time in the dark, in the rain, or snow, or freezing cold or all the above. And just to make sure you have something to keep you company during all that alone time, there are the injuries, aches, and pains that come with the increasing mileage. And let’s not forget the hazards of tripping while running in the dark (been there done that), getting sick enough to cough up a lung from running in the cold (pretty nasty), and wearing out body parts from over training (yup…been there too). Nothing is more frustrating than to be in the middle of your training and you have to hit the reset button because you lost a week or more to injuries or sickness.

Often rookie marathoners think the training is about getting the body in shape to run the marathon. In truth it is more about training the mind. No matter how much training you do, somewhere between 18-20 miles your body will run out of fuel and the battle shifts from physical to mental. You have now reached the zone I call Running on the Edge, where your body is telling you to stop and your mind is fighting with itself over taking another step.
Dealing with the Edge requires the mental training that comes from getting out there every day, often sore, sometimes injured, frequently sleep deprived, and fighting self imposed doubts. And doing it day after day, week after week, month after month. To make it to the starting line you have to be convinced that Quitting is not an option. To make it to the finish you will need all that training and more.

On Race day when you are in the Edge zone your mind and body collaborate to present reasons why you should stop. Sometimes it’s “You’ll never make it up this next hill”, “Your doing permanent damage to your body”, “Your too old for this”(I get this one a lot), “If you just stop now the pain will go away” (it doesn’t), and my favorite “Lots of people don’t finish…nobody will care if you don’t”. Often when it gets bad there are little events that help strengthen my resolve…the crazy antics from the crowd (especially the girls at Wellesley and the beer loving spectators at BC), the next water stop just a quarter mile up the road, a downhill stretch when you really need it or a friend or family member yelling encouragement and support (and handing you jelly beans).

In our lives most of us have had those times when we are Running on the Edge. When the world seems to have turned against you, when the problems are piling up with no end in sight, and when you can’t see your way clear of the situation. Mostly We want to curl up in bed and make the world go away. To just call it quits.

I was reminded of this again the other day when we were approached to assist a family through Help in the Nick of Time. The story is a familiar one with the parents out of work for an extended period of time, behind on house payments, and trying to keep the family together, food on the table, and a roof over their heads. You could say they are a family who’s Running on the Edge. I can imagine that after many months of fighting this battle every day these parents just want to throw in the towel. But despite all the troubles they face, Quitting is not an option. In the room nearby are children depending on them to keep going. It takes far more strength for these families to face another day and keep going than it does for me to make it through a marathon.

But much like the little well timed encouragements in the late stages of the marathon, a little help and support is sometimes all it takes to give them a second wind. This is the goal of Help in the Nick of Time.

So, what keeps me going through the cold, snow, soreness and injuries? It’s knowing that in a small way what I’m doing (with your help) brings hope and help to a family who has already made up their minds that Quitting is not an Option.

Two weeks to race day and counting….

Doing war with the Roads

After a particularly challenging run the other day I was taking inventory of all my aches and pains and I came to the realization that the roads had declared war on me, and I was losing. It wasn’t obvious at first, they were using a stealth program that was primarily a war of attrition but last week that changed. Now that the war is declared it’s “game on” and I intend to win, although at times it clearly doesn’t look like it.

I used to view the road as my friend, leading me places I’ve never been, rising to meet me as I easily stride up the hills, smoothly gliding down the far side and out onto a country road that winds through forests, farms, or neighborhoods. It was the weather that could be the enemy and the road and I were allies fighting against it.

But as I’ve gotten older I begun to believe the road has switched sides.

I know, you are thinking “while I may have questioned your sanity before, you’ve totally lost it now”. Well, before you call the men in the white coats (Pam keeps their number handy) bear with me a bit.

The roads have begun a subtle but relentless conspiracy to undermine my running through a complex combination of changes designed to wreak havoc with my joints, muscles and psyche. The assault started with tilting the road surface towards the side of the road so one knee was always twisting to the side. Then there are uneven surfaces and frost heaves designed to simultaneously twist your ankle in multiple directions and strain the hamstring. And we won’t even discuss the wear and tear of running on cement roads and dealing with sand and gravel. But the mother of all assaults, the roads’ secret weapon of mass destruction is the pothole. Which brings us back to my earlier realization; I’m at war with the road.

I was out for an early morning run in San Francisco and as luck would have it, in the rain. It’s dark, wet, cold and I’m particularly happy to be finishing up my run when the road launched its attack. I was crossing a street, looking up to watch for traffic and splashing through puddles when the road disappeared below my foot. Hidden in the puddle was a trench slightly smaller than the state of Rhode Island.

As a disciple of the book “Born to Run” by evangelist and author Christopher McDougall, I’ve totally bought into the minimalist/barefoot running technique which has the runner leaning forward almost to the point for falling forward and with the foot striking below and behind you. This works really well when you have control of your feet but when your foot gets sucked into a vortex it has the tendency to launch you forward at an accelerated rate of speed.

Thus, as my foot caught the far side of the pothole I found myself in full flight with no chance of getting my other foot under me. I’d like to say that I watched it all happen in slow motion but the only thing that seemed to be slow was my reaction. First to strike was the right knee followed in quick succession by the left hip and elbows. The hands came up just in time to avoid needing dental repair, although sliding across the road I contributed a significant share of skin to repairing the surface of San Francisco roads. Clearly given the aforementioned pothole, they need it.
I of course did the immediate crazy runner thing, rolling back onto my feet and yelling “I’m OK” as I’m limping off down the street to the amusement of the bystanders. I don’t get embarrassed by these things anymore having had my share of public displays of unusual behavior over the years. But I have to admit I was a bit uncomfortable walking past the doorman back at the hotel leaving a trail of blood droplets on the lobby floor.

As I’m patching myself up I decided to take inventory on where I stand on the battle with the road. In addition to the road rash, half a dozen cuts, and bruised left hip, there’s the swollen and black and blue right knee. Add those to two blacken toenails (and a third that might just vacate the toe altogether), a hamstring that screams on uphills and any distance over 12 miles, and the beginning of a blister and bruise on the ball of my foot. Clearly it looks like I’m losing the war.

But it’s not as bad as it may appear. Talk to most marathoners and they will tell you that somewhere along the months of training, wrestling with pain and injuries is normal. Granted, not usually this many and not at the same time but if the road thinks it’s won it is sadly mistaken.

I’m back out there and I will be at the start on April 16th to take on 26+ miles of “the road”.

I’m redefining the meaning of “Road Rage”. Watch out road…I’m coming for you.

Distance runners have their own sense of humor

Runners, particularly long distance runners like marathoners, can develop an unusual sense of humor. It’s not clear whether this comes from the amount of time they spend out on the road alone, or from long runs with runners already infected with the offbeat runner’s humor, or if it might in fact be the physiological result of the brain bouncing up and down in the head for all those hours.

Regardless of the source, there’s nothing that changes the boredom of the day to day long runs like a little humorous entertainment. When I was in high school this involved the normal pranks like mixing glue in the Vaseline that a runner used on his feet to avoid blisters. It can make removing socks after a run a rather challenging event. Or taking the spikes out of the runner’s shoes and coating the bottom with motor oil, introducing the runner to the equivalent of trying to run on ice. But bright individuals with time will also tend to expand their vision to more challenging escapades.

At our high school we had a small school bus for the agricultural students to travel out to the local farm for classes. The cross country team got to borrow it for races at other schools and our coach would do the driving. This left the runners with freedom to explore all kinds of creative entertainment in the back of the bus. Often these were simple in nature like putting a sign in the window of the emergency door in the back that said honk if you love your country. The coach kept pulling the bus over thinking people wanted to pass him for going too slow. But the simple turned to more complex when we disconnected the alarm to the rear emergency door. The runners would wait to a car was following particularly close behind and then one of the runners would pop open the door and flop out the upper half of his body like he was falling out. We would then haul him back in by the back of his shorts being careful not reduce his chances of having children in the future. I’m happy to report that while startled, none of the drivers had a heart attack. At least that we know of.

Of course as runners move from high school to college and beyond, both the distance and the sophistication of humor increase. One Saturday before a particularly long trail run one of the guys in the group was handing out water and energy food. We had a runner in the group who consistently insisted on running in the front of the group and pushing the pace. On this particular morning his ration of chocolate was replaced with a medicinal version (Ex-Lax). At about 4 miles he had to leave the front of the pack for a nature call. And nature continued to call him every mile for the rest of the run.

Runners have a strange relationship with their T-Shirts and it frequently becomes a way of expressing a more personal sense of humor.

- The realist: “Pain is temporary but your time posted on the Internet is forever”
- Pregnant Runner Shirt – Arrow pointing down to the belly – “Runner in training”
- Woman’s Shirt – “I don’t go all the way” and underneath “Half Marathoner”
- “I like to do LSD” – Underneath “Long Slow Distance”
- For the more arrogant – on the back – “Follow me to the finish”
- Then there are the baby T’s – “Future running buddy”, “Born to Run”, “I plan to run before I walk…get ready”, “Grandpa has me doing wind sprints”
- One of my favorites…On the back “I spit to the right”
- For the Gung-Ho - “Kick Assphalt”
- For the religious – And on the 7th day God did an easy 3.
- “My sport is your sport’s punishment”
- On the back – “Since you’re behind…how’s mine?”
- “There’s no Surgeon General warning about smoking the competition”
- “If you’re reading this you’ve been passed by an old fat guy”
- And least we forget…the mentally self aware – “Any idiot can run. It takes a special idiot to run a marathon” and on the front…”Marathoning is a state of mind”. Back…”It’s called insanity”.

Then there are the inside runner jokes that sound strange to non-runners but get a chuckle out of marathoners. Sayings such as “You know you are a distance runner if”
- You have more running clothes in the laundry than regular clothes.
- You lost a toenail and you tell people it’s no big deal
- Your treadmill has more miles on it than your car
- You watch the weather reports solely to plan your runs for the week
- You have more old running shoes in your closet than regular shoes
- You know where your IT band is and it has nothing to do with Information Technology or music
- You are happy to see (and use) Port-a-johns.
- When someone mentions a city you know all the best running places but none of the best restaurants
- You swear your running watch goes with every outfit
- You can’t smell yourself after a run but everyone else can

If you made it this far in this blog then you are clearly a runner or have way too much time on your hands. In either case you might be interested to know that there is even a running comic strip called “Running on Empty” (Jason Nocera), and at one time there was a running radio station called WRUN that specifically catered to music for runners. Around the Boston Marathon they would play favorites like “Please come to Boston”, “Monday, Monday”, and “Born to Run”.

Maybe the best way to sum up running humor is that the runners don’t always get the last laugh. A marathoner is purported to have asked his wife “Honey, what do you like most about me; my tremendous athletic abilities, my muscular physique or my superior intellect? She replied, “I love your enormous sense of humor”.

Until next time!

Warning: Entering the Mind of a Marathon Runner can be hazardous to your health

Ever wonder what marathon runners think about when they spend all that time out on the roads? It’s probably not one of those things you think about until someone brings it up (like now).

No question that long distance running can be a lonely sport. A typical non-elite marathoner will train somewhere around 40- 60 miles a week which will put them out pounding the road for 6 – 10 hour (assuming of course that they are not doing a gerbil imitation on a treadmill at the local gym). This much alone time to think might be a good thing if you are sitting comfortably in an overstuffed chair in a warm room with a nice cup of coffee, but the perspective changes a bit when it’s below freezing, in the dark, on an icy road and you are chipping the ice off your water bottle (and in my case my mustache too).

Through the efforts of exhaustive research (I asked a couple of my running friends) and untold hours of field studies (ie..my own running) I came to the following conclusion. It depends.

To say marathon runners can become obsessive would be a significant understatement. We obsess about under training, over training, injuries, and potential injuries (will the hang nail on my little toe turn into a run stopping infection?). We worry about getting sick and missing a run, bad weather on days we have long runs, getting enough fluids or drinking too much (a marathoner recently died from over-hydrating), using GU (energy gel) or no GU. And don’t even get me started about race day obsessions, especially the ones having to do with porta-potty timing.

The definition of OCD (Obsessive Compulsive Disorder) in Wikipedia is:
Obsessive–compulsive disorder (OCD) is an anxiety disorder characterized by intrusive thoughts that produce uneasiness, apprehension, fear, or worry, by repetitive behaviors aimed at reducing the associated anxiety, or by a combination of such obsessions and compulsionsThere should be a picture of a marathon runner next to the definition.

If you are the obsessive type and you happen to be one of those people who don’t like their own company (or fit in the “misery loves company” category) it can be helpful to seek out other likeminded (equally mentally imbalanced) running partners to share your training runs and your anxieties. It may not solve your problems but it may make you feel better to know others are worse off than you.

Then there are those who simply focus on their running, constantly checking their form, taking inventory of how their body feels, checking their watch to see how far they have gone (or more importantly how far left) and ultimately wallowing in their pain. If you happen to be in this category long runs can be very, very, long.

On the flip side, there are those that find running frees their minds to think about other things. The act of running becomes second nature and the experience of being out and mobile supersedes everything else. It takes a while for a new runner to get there but it can be addictive once you do. And what do they think about? Anything their little heart’s desire, from exploring the world around them, to going totally into themselves problem solving. I once heard an ultra-marathoner say I think about anything but how far I have to go. If I thought about that I might talk myself into stopping.

For me it’s a bit of all of the above. When I’m out of shape or injured I obsess over getting in back in shape or healing. But when I’m healthy and the running is good it is not a chore, it’s a privilege.

Regardless, come race day it is a whole different mindset and whether you are an elite runner or a first timer, getting through 26 miles will test your ability to manage your pain and thoughts.
And for a humorous look at what goes through the mind of a marathoner during the race check out the YouTube link below.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NsMw10KVVCk

Enjoy!!

The Heart of running; Running with Heart

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

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??

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.