If I live till I die, will I be justly rewarded
If I sleep till I wake, will I remember the dream
If I lie to myself, will I have something to believe in
If I face my fears, will I know what they mean
Long for brighter days far behind me
Before my life was just a haze
When love was still inside me
If I find myself, tell me will I lose me to others
If I hang my head, will I feel the spirit of my mother
If I bury my face, will I uncover the truth
If I slow my pace, will the past gain on me
I was wrong to a degree. The JFK 50 Mile was not a matter of life and death. Life itself is a matter of life and death. The JFK 50 mile was a "fun" adventure and a wonderful way to spend 11 hours and 8 minutes. I learned a lot about running 50 miles but I learned more about what comes from running 50 miles. I learned what it means to have friends and family. I learned more about the ultra-running community. When one person falls, five stop to see if they are not injured. I learned about defying age - not mine but others' who are much older. I learned about the intricacies of the physiology of the body before during and after such an event. I also learned that most people, runners and non-runners alike, cannot comprehend running 50 miles. I learned to have a faith in God or I should say a continuing faith in God. I learned that I WANT to run more ultras but also that a truly run marathon is equally rewarding. I learned that life is not just about running. I learned that anyone can "run" 50 miles but a small minutia of people ever will. I learned that there are much harder things in life. I learned that as much as I was alone, I wasn't. I learned that each step forward moves you forward. I learned that it might be harder to crew than to run. I learned that the start is much more exciting than the finish. At the start, the journey lies ahead of you but it lies behind you at the finish and the enjoyment is in the journey. I learned to learn. There is much more and as I continue to reflect, I will continue to share.
Thursday, November 23, 2006
Friday, November 17, 2006
The Essence
…In an ultra, the limits of the body and mind are pushed to a point where you don’t know if you will live or die. The physiology of the body, and thus God, will determine this. The mind knows that this is a distinct possibility yet it continues to wage war on the body. The body rebels but the mind constantly recalibrates itself to comfort the body in any way possible. The pain does not lessen but the mind compensates as to how it reacts to the pain. The pain can actually be moved around so it is not so pronounced in any particular area. Pain has to be isolated for this reason. Comprehensive pain cannot become so overwhelming that it deters forward progress. In essence, the ultra is a perfect dichotomous event. You are doing good for your mind and body yet putting yourself at risk in doing so. It is being active in an inactive world.
The ulra is whole-heartedly respected yet approached with ease; yet this is not to be confused with it being easy. It is something that I WANT to do and not what I HAVE to do or what someone is telling me to do. I WANT to go out and run this far. I WANT to feel the pain. I WANT to be challenged mentally and physically for no other reason than to feel alive and put myself on the edge.
Tomorrow is the JFK 50 Miler and my first ultra beyond the 50K. Afterwards, maybe my thoughts will be different but somehow, I don’t so…
The ulra is whole-heartedly respected yet approached with ease; yet this is not to be confused with it being easy. It is something that I WANT to do and not what I HAVE to do or what someone is telling me to do. I WANT to go out and run this far. I WANT to feel the pain. I WANT to be challenged mentally and physically for no other reason than to feel alive and put myself on the edge.
Tomorrow is the JFK 50 Miler and my first ultra beyond the 50K. Afterwards, maybe my thoughts will be different but somehow, I don’t so…
Tuesday, November 07, 2006
Who Is This Person
"... Perhaps the genius of ultra running is its supreme lack of utility. It makes no sense in a world of space ships and supercomputers to run vast distances on foot. There is no money in it and no fame, frequently not even the approval of peers. But as poets, apostles and philosophers have insisted from the dawn of time, there is more to life than logic and common sense. The ultra runners know this instinctively. And they know something else that is lost on the sedentary. They understand, perhaps better than anyone that the doors to the spirit will swing open with physical effort. In running such long and taxing distances they answer a call from the deepest realms of their being -- a call that asks who they are ..."
David Blaikie
Owner/Operator of www.ultramarathonworld.com
As I prepare for the JFK 50 Miler in two weeks, a venture (or shall I say "adventure") into uncharted territory, this quote continues to weigh on my mind. I would not so naievely beleive that after two 50K's that I am even remotely an ultrarunner. I guess the promise to find out "who I am" compels me to challenge this distance. Maybe I have already determined that I don't like who I am and the 50 miler will help me find another person. Will it be this 50 miler, another or maybe even a 100 miler? Is it not in the miles at all? When will I find that person?
David Blaikie
Owner/Operator of www.ultramarathonworld.com
As I prepare for the JFK 50 Miler in two weeks, a venture (or shall I say "adventure") into uncharted territory, this quote continues to weigh on my mind. I would not so naievely beleive that after two 50K's that I am even remotely an ultrarunner. I guess the promise to find out "who I am" compels me to challenge this distance. Maybe I have already determined that I don't like who I am and the 50 miler will help me find another person. Will it be this 50 miler, another or maybe even a 100 miler? Is it not in the miles at all? When will I find that person?
Thursday, November 02, 2006
In Me
'Cause when I'm weak, You make me strong
When I'm blind you shine Your light on me
'Cause I'll never get by living on my own ability
How refreshing to know You don't need me
How amazing to find that you want me
So I'll stand on Your Truth, and I'll fight with Your Strength
Until You bring the victory, by the power of Christ in me
Casting Crowns - In Me
The Detroit FreePress/FlagStar Bank marathon was my 8th marathon/ultra of 2006. It was also my 4th marathon/ultra in the last 43 days. The Under Armour Baltimore marathon, just two weeks prior to Detroit, was a personal best with Detroit being my 3rd best. The 4 marathons/ultras in the last 6 weeks were run in 4 different states including Missouri, Pennsylvania, Maryland and Michigan. The 4 marathons/ultras ran in the spring were in Maryland, New Jersey, Ohio and West Virginia. I qualified for both silver and gold Marathon Maniac status. Not only was my personal best on a challenging course, but it was also the first and only marathon where I ran under 9 minutes every mile of the marathon ranging from 8:23 to 8:58 averaging 8:41. I also realize that these efforts still make me a quarter-pack to mid-pack runner. I am proud of the accomplishments but argue that they are nothing special.
In Detroit, I ran past a young man sitting in his wheel chair. As I casually glided by, I got tears in my eyes and a lump in my throat. For that brief moment, his blank stare allowed me to permeate his mind and feel inside his heart. How nice it would be if he could be out there running like the rest of us. That image reappeared throughout the marathon. How lucky I was to be doing what I was doing.
I argue that my accomplishments are nothing special because of the stories of others who overcome tremendous challenges are more inspiring than anything that I could ever do: the people who overcame addictions of smoking, drugs and alcohol; people who participate in the physically challenged divisions; people who have lost 50, 100, 150 pounds and turned a sedentary lifestyle into something active; people who have suffered from abuse and intolerance; people who have fought diseases like cancer and have won or are winning; people who have felt premature loss of those close to them; people who have been depressed and suicidal; people who have felt depleted of life. The reasons for running, stories of those runners and the examples of success can go on forever. These are the people that are doing something special – not me. I would also argue that people in general, not just runners, who have overcome these challenges, are much more courageous and brave than I have ever been. Although I believe that running or an active lifestyle changes an outlook on life, I believe it is more important to have a passion for something. Passion is what drives life whether it is for the people in your life, the work that your do, the beliefs that you have, the hobbies that you pursue, whatever it is, find the passion.
I find myself running for the strength of others. With each run and especially challenging and taxing runs like marathons and ultras, I ask God to take the strength that I am expelling from my mind and body and give it to those in need. This was the purpose of my nine marathons/ultras in 2006. People are dealing with much more in life than trying to get through 3, 5, 10, 13, 26, 31, 50 or 100 miles. Obviously, I am not diminishing the challenges and accomplishments of those who do because many of those who do are doing it to overcome the external challenges in life. However, as existential as it sounds, I hope that my strength is shared among others – runners and non-runners alike – and that God does take the strength coming from my mind and body and gives it to those in need.
When I'm blind you shine Your light on me
'Cause I'll never get by living on my own ability
How refreshing to know You don't need me
How amazing to find that you want me
So I'll stand on Your Truth, and I'll fight with Your Strength
Until You bring the victory, by the power of Christ in me
Casting Crowns - In Me
The Detroit FreePress/FlagStar Bank marathon was my 8th marathon/ultra of 2006. It was also my 4th marathon/ultra in the last 43 days. The Under Armour Baltimore marathon, just two weeks prior to Detroit, was a personal best with Detroit being my 3rd best. The 4 marathons/ultras in the last 6 weeks were run in 4 different states including Missouri, Pennsylvania, Maryland and Michigan. The 4 marathons/ultras ran in the spring were in Maryland, New Jersey, Ohio and West Virginia. I qualified for both silver and gold Marathon Maniac status. Not only was my personal best on a challenging course, but it was also the first and only marathon where I ran under 9 minutes every mile of the marathon ranging from 8:23 to 8:58 averaging 8:41. I also realize that these efforts still make me a quarter-pack to mid-pack runner. I am proud of the accomplishments but argue that they are nothing special.
In Detroit, I ran past a young man sitting in his wheel chair. As I casually glided by, I got tears in my eyes and a lump in my throat. For that brief moment, his blank stare allowed me to permeate his mind and feel inside his heart. How nice it would be if he could be out there running like the rest of us. That image reappeared throughout the marathon. How lucky I was to be doing what I was doing.
I argue that my accomplishments are nothing special because of the stories of others who overcome tremendous challenges are more inspiring than anything that I could ever do: the people who overcame addictions of smoking, drugs and alcohol; people who participate in the physically challenged divisions; people who have lost 50, 100, 150 pounds and turned a sedentary lifestyle into something active; people who have suffered from abuse and intolerance; people who have fought diseases like cancer and have won or are winning; people who have felt premature loss of those close to them; people who have been depressed and suicidal; people who have felt depleted of life. The reasons for running, stories of those runners and the examples of success can go on forever. These are the people that are doing something special – not me. I would also argue that people in general, not just runners, who have overcome these challenges, are much more courageous and brave than I have ever been. Although I believe that running or an active lifestyle changes an outlook on life, I believe it is more important to have a passion for something. Passion is what drives life whether it is for the people in your life, the work that your do, the beliefs that you have, the hobbies that you pursue, whatever it is, find the passion.
I find myself running for the strength of others. With each run and especially challenging and taxing runs like marathons and ultras, I ask God to take the strength that I am expelling from my mind and body and give it to those in need. This was the purpose of my nine marathons/ultras in 2006. People are dealing with much more in life than trying to get through 3, 5, 10, 13, 26, 31, 50 or 100 miles. Obviously, I am not diminishing the challenges and accomplishments of those who do because many of those who do are doing it to overcome the external challenges in life. However, as existential as it sounds, I hope that my strength is shared among others – runners and non-runners alike – and that God does take the strength coming from my mind and body and gives it to those in need.
Thursday, October 05, 2006
Running Up That Hill
If I only could,
I’d be running up that hill.
If I only could,
I’d be running up that hill.
It doesn’t hurt me.
Do you want to feel how it feels?
Do you want to know that it doesn’t hurt me?
Do you want to hear about the deal that I’m making?
You, it’s you and me.
And if I only could,
I'd make a deal with God,
And I'd get him to swap our places,
Be running up that “trail”,
Be running up that hill,
Be running up that building.
If I only could, oh...
Kate Bush – Running Up That Hill (A Deal With God)
I run, in some cases, to hurt emotionally and physically, especially at the longer distances, surpassing 20 miles. What people do not realize is that hurting emotionally and physically on a run is a million times easier than what we experience in life. In essence, hurt during running makes you feel alive. I read in all the Running magazines about the importance of recovery – taking a day off for every mile raced. My recovery is my next run because it is on my next run where I am at peace and in recovery. Recovery is not sitting around waiting for all the tears in the micro fibers of my muscles to heal. I do believe in active recovery. I understand that my body can only take so much and that optimal running can only occur when properly trained and recovered. However, I know that I will never win a race and the chances of ever winning an age group award are slim so even when I am in optimal condition, there is no winning as known traditionally. But, do I win? Yes, I win because of my own personal reason for running. To me, running is about the experiences, comfort, solitude, community and stressing the mind and body beyond what is normal or what is generally accepted as normal. It is simplistic in a sense. I run against me, the course, the conditions and, yes, time. Does time even matter? I am not as obsessed about time as I used to be. Maybe this comes with age when you know the days of overall PRs are gone. However, I am an analytical person and time, distance, elevation and conditions are easily analyzed. But, this is not the essence of my running any longer. It is purely about the experience and the non-tangible attributes of perseverance and endurance. Except for weather conditions and course, running is entirely in my control. I decide how fast and how far to go. I decide what I take from it. I decide whether I quit or continue (although I have never quit a race.) Sometimes I don’t decide what I get from it – what I take from it, yes, but not necessarily what I get from it. This is so because I seem to always get something new out of every experience.
I ran my 2nd 50K this past weekend and because of a wrong turn, I actually ran further than the advertised distance, completing about 32 miles. Running up that hill; the steep 300 foot hill at miles 11 and 19. This is an out and back course so once the hill was navigated at mile 11, you needed to be mentally prepared to do it all over again at mile 19. I know 300 feet does not sound like much but this was 300 feet at a 14% grade. How many steep, rocky hills do we have to climb in life? How many out and backs are there where we know that there will always be another climb, another mental and physical challenge? With experience, perseverance, and resolve, we can make it up those hills and eventually even “run” up them. We all have our hills and if I only could, I’d make a deal with God and I’d get Him to swap our places. In many cases, I know that running seems trivial to the hills that we climb in life. I also know, from having a running life, that running not only helps us climb the hills but to also navigate life in general. Compared to the hills in life, this hill overlooking Blue Marsh Lake was easy and thus my point, it doesn’t hurt me. Do you want to know how it feels?
And if I only could,
I'd make a deal with God,
And I'd get him to swap our places
I’d be running up that hill.
If I only could,
I’d be running up that hill.
It doesn’t hurt me.
Do you want to feel how it feels?
Do you want to know that it doesn’t hurt me?
Do you want to hear about the deal that I’m making?
You, it’s you and me.
And if I only could,
I'd make a deal with God,
And I'd get him to swap our places,
Be running up that “trail”,
Be running up that hill,
Be running up that building.
If I only could, oh...
Kate Bush – Running Up That Hill (A Deal With God)
I run, in some cases, to hurt emotionally and physically, especially at the longer distances, surpassing 20 miles. What people do not realize is that hurting emotionally and physically on a run is a million times easier than what we experience in life. In essence, hurt during running makes you feel alive. I read in all the Running magazines about the importance of recovery – taking a day off for every mile raced. My recovery is my next run because it is on my next run where I am at peace and in recovery. Recovery is not sitting around waiting for all the tears in the micro fibers of my muscles to heal. I do believe in active recovery. I understand that my body can only take so much and that optimal running can only occur when properly trained and recovered. However, I know that I will never win a race and the chances of ever winning an age group award are slim so even when I am in optimal condition, there is no winning as known traditionally. But, do I win? Yes, I win because of my own personal reason for running. To me, running is about the experiences, comfort, solitude, community and stressing the mind and body beyond what is normal or what is generally accepted as normal. It is simplistic in a sense. I run against me, the course, the conditions and, yes, time. Does time even matter? I am not as obsessed about time as I used to be. Maybe this comes with age when you know the days of overall PRs are gone. However, I am an analytical person and time, distance, elevation and conditions are easily analyzed. But, this is not the essence of my running any longer. It is purely about the experience and the non-tangible attributes of perseverance and endurance. Except for weather conditions and course, running is entirely in my control. I decide how fast and how far to go. I decide what I take from it. I decide whether I quit or continue (although I have never quit a race.) Sometimes I don’t decide what I get from it – what I take from it, yes, but not necessarily what I get from it. This is so because I seem to always get something new out of every experience.
I ran my 2nd 50K this past weekend and because of a wrong turn, I actually ran further than the advertised distance, completing about 32 miles. Running up that hill; the steep 300 foot hill at miles 11 and 19. This is an out and back course so once the hill was navigated at mile 11, you needed to be mentally prepared to do it all over again at mile 19. I know 300 feet does not sound like much but this was 300 feet at a 14% grade. How many steep, rocky hills do we have to climb in life? How many out and backs are there where we know that there will always be another climb, another mental and physical challenge? With experience, perseverance, and resolve, we can make it up those hills and eventually even “run” up them. We all have our hills and if I only could, I’d make a deal with God and I’d get Him to swap our places. In many cases, I know that running seems trivial to the hills that we climb in life. I also know, from having a running life, that running not only helps us climb the hills but to also navigate life in general. Compared to the hills in life, this hill overlooking Blue Marsh Lake was easy and thus my point, it doesn’t hurt me. Do you want to know how it feels?
And if I only could,
I'd make a deal with God,
And I'd get him to swap our places
Saturday, September 23, 2006
Soulshine
When you cant find the light
That guides you through a cloudy day
When the stars ain’t shinin’ bright
And you feel like you’ve lost your way
When the candle lights of home
Burn so very far away
Well you got to let your soul shine
Just like my daddy used to say
He used to say soul shine
Its better than sunshine
Its better than moonshine
Damn sure better than rain
Hey now people don’t mind
We all get this way sometimes
Got to let your soul shine
Shine till the break of day
Warren Haynes - Soulshine
The etchings upon our soul are permanent, never to be erased. No matter who we are, there will always be good and bad etchings. Our challenge is to allow the good etchings to shine while we learn from the bad etchings. As in life, the marathon is a soul-searching experience. Some days, things just don’t go as planned. The pain intensifies both mentally and physically. Quitting starts to enter the mind and the body says “stop the madness” and the mind says “maybe I will.” This is when the soul-searching begins. It is when we look to what is etched, from simple scratches to deep ruts – the good and the bad upon the soul. But, to continue, we must let the soul shine. Sometimes, what we find may not yet be an etching, but a dream, hope or vision for a future etching.
It is when the light appears dim; the clouds cover us in darkness, the stars faded where we are not able to find our way that we have to let our soul shine How many times in life and the marathon has this been true? How many times have we had to find our heart and soul to continue? We use our experiences that have left lasting etchings and impressions upon our soul. Sometimes, the finish line appears so far away that we lose sight on how to get there. Faintly burning candles barely light the darkness. How do we find our way through the darkness? We have to let our soul shine.
My Daddy said little so I had to find out for myself that I had to let the soul shine. I do believe my Mom let her soul shine. I suspect I have learned the lesson late in life and maybe not until I started running and pondering more what is true of one’s soul. I will even go as far as saying that maybe not until this song (Soulshine) did I start pondering it. I don’t think I have learned how to do this yet although I see it can be done. The soul shine is truly better than the glare and heat of the sunshine, the afterglow of the moonshine (and even better than the drinkable moonshine), and certainly better than the dreariness of a cold, wet rain. One can’t control the sun, moon and rain but they can control the etchings upon their souls and how to use them – good and bed – to make the soul shine and help in finding a lit path. We ALL do get this way sometimes. The more we turn to the etchings of the soul, use the good ones and learn from the bad ones, the better able we are to let the soul shine.
I suspect this is the way explorers like Lewis & Clark progressed on their expeditions and journeys through life – by letting their soul shine. In 1804, Lewis and Clark were commissioned by Thomas Jefferson to find a way from the Missouri River in St. Charles, MO to the Pacific Ocean. It was the ultimate ultra event of more than 7,000 miles (out and back) and lasted more than 2 years. I’m sure Lewis & Clark had to continually let their soul shine to be successful in their journey. So why bring up Lewis and Clark in this context?
The Lewis & Clark marathon in St. Charles, MO was my 20th marathon. It also happened to be my 4th worst marathon. The temperature and humidity were high, the course a bit monotonous being a double loop with two slight out and backs, and a body and mind feeling a bit broken. After mile 15, it hurt both mentally and physically. The bad etchings appeared to have taken control, doubts of finishing (even wanting to finish) filled my mind and the body was broken. For gosh sakes, this is just a marathon, 26.2 miles. It is not a life situation. I think the reason I enjoy running marathons (and beyond) is because they are easier than life. I had once read a mantra by an ultra runner that he continually repeated as a reminder, “Relentless Forward Progress.” As in the marathon, it is in life, “Relentless Forward Progress.” So, how would I get through the last 11 miles? By letting the soul shine and relentless forward progress with one foot in front of the other, I got to the finish and to me the finish is the start of something new. On this day, I felt the heat and humidity of the sunshine, I even saw the moonshine prior to the start and for the entire last mile it poured rain.
He used to say soul shine
It’s better than sunshine
It’s better than moonshine
Damn sure better than rain
The soul shine was better than all three. Learn from the run, let the soul shine in life.
That guides you through a cloudy day
When the stars ain’t shinin’ bright
And you feel like you’ve lost your way
When the candle lights of home
Burn so very far away
Well you got to let your soul shine
Just like my daddy used to say
He used to say soul shine
Its better than sunshine
Its better than moonshine
Damn sure better than rain
Hey now people don’t mind
We all get this way sometimes
Got to let your soul shine
Shine till the break of day
Warren Haynes - Soulshine
The etchings upon our soul are permanent, never to be erased. No matter who we are, there will always be good and bad etchings. Our challenge is to allow the good etchings to shine while we learn from the bad etchings. As in life, the marathon is a soul-searching experience. Some days, things just don’t go as planned. The pain intensifies both mentally and physically. Quitting starts to enter the mind and the body says “stop the madness” and the mind says “maybe I will.” This is when the soul-searching begins. It is when we look to what is etched, from simple scratches to deep ruts – the good and the bad upon the soul. But, to continue, we must let the soul shine. Sometimes, what we find may not yet be an etching, but a dream, hope or vision for a future etching.
It is when the light appears dim; the clouds cover us in darkness, the stars faded where we are not able to find our way that we have to let our soul shine How many times in life and the marathon has this been true? How many times have we had to find our heart and soul to continue? We use our experiences that have left lasting etchings and impressions upon our soul. Sometimes, the finish line appears so far away that we lose sight on how to get there. Faintly burning candles barely light the darkness. How do we find our way through the darkness? We have to let our soul shine.
My Daddy said little so I had to find out for myself that I had to let the soul shine. I do believe my Mom let her soul shine. I suspect I have learned the lesson late in life and maybe not until I started running and pondering more what is true of one’s soul. I will even go as far as saying that maybe not until this song (Soulshine) did I start pondering it. I don’t think I have learned how to do this yet although I see it can be done. The soul shine is truly better than the glare and heat of the sunshine, the afterglow of the moonshine (and even better than the drinkable moonshine), and certainly better than the dreariness of a cold, wet rain. One can’t control the sun, moon and rain but they can control the etchings upon their souls and how to use them – good and bed – to make the soul shine and help in finding a lit path. We ALL do get this way sometimes. The more we turn to the etchings of the soul, use the good ones and learn from the bad ones, the better able we are to let the soul shine.
I suspect this is the way explorers like Lewis & Clark progressed on their expeditions and journeys through life – by letting their soul shine. In 1804, Lewis and Clark were commissioned by Thomas Jefferson to find a way from the Missouri River in St. Charles, MO to the Pacific Ocean. It was the ultimate ultra event of more than 7,000 miles (out and back) and lasted more than 2 years. I’m sure Lewis & Clark had to continually let their soul shine to be successful in their journey. So why bring up Lewis and Clark in this context?
The Lewis & Clark marathon in St. Charles, MO was my 20th marathon. It also happened to be my 4th worst marathon. The temperature and humidity were high, the course a bit monotonous being a double loop with two slight out and backs, and a body and mind feeling a bit broken. After mile 15, it hurt both mentally and physically. The bad etchings appeared to have taken control, doubts of finishing (even wanting to finish) filled my mind and the body was broken. For gosh sakes, this is just a marathon, 26.2 miles. It is not a life situation. I think the reason I enjoy running marathons (and beyond) is because they are easier than life. I had once read a mantra by an ultra runner that he continually repeated as a reminder, “Relentless Forward Progress.” As in the marathon, it is in life, “Relentless Forward Progress.” So, how would I get through the last 11 miles? By letting the soul shine and relentless forward progress with one foot in front of the other, I got to the finish and to me the finish is the start of something new. On this day, I felt the heat and humidity of the sunshine, I even saw the moonshine prior to the start and for the entire last mile it poured rain.
He used to say soul shine
It’s better than sunshine
It’s better than moonshine
Damn sure better than rain
The soul shine was better than all three. Learn from the run, let the soul shine in life.
Thursday, August 17, 2006
The Rising
Can't see nothin' in front of me
Can't see nothin' coming up behind
I make my way through this darkness
I can't feel nothing but this chain that binds me
Lost track of how far I've gone
How far I've gone, how high I've climbed
On my back's a sixty pound stone
On my shoulder a half mile line
Can't see nothin' coming up behind
I make my way through this darkness
I can't feel nothing but this chain that binds me
Lost track of how far I've gone
How far I've gone, how high I've climbed
On my back's a sixty pound stone
On my shoulder a half mile line
Bruce Springsteen - The Rising
Some of my best races (runs) have come when there were few expectations of doing well. I toe the starting line relaxed with little anxiety. It is a matter of what will be, will be. The Turkey Swamp races were this past weekend. They are a series of races run on a 2 ½ mile loop of single path trail (runner on your left!), sandy, gravel road and grass. The distances are 10 miles, 25K, 20 miles and 50K. In the Spring, I had planned on running 50K but as summer progressed and after I finished my 4th marathon/ultra in 4 months (June), I eased up on the mileage and wasn’t fairing too well with some of my runs in the Summer, so I decided to run 20 miles at Turkey Swamp. I figured that I wasn’t prepared to run 20 miles but it might be the catalyst that was needed to get my fall marathon training season jump-started. Twenty miles is 8 - 2 ½ mile loops, the most I have ever run on a loop course. I wasn’t sure what to expect since on loop courses, I sometimes get that “Oh no, not another one” syndrome. I was also a little concerned about the ligaments in my one ankle on the rooty trail section of the course. Starting in a controlled, easy-paced manner is something that cannot be stressed enough in longer distance running. I always say, “Let the race (run) come to you”. Each time this has happened to me, I have had one of my best runs. Starting this way, I let the faster runners go. Early on, it was a bit difficult running on the trail because we were bunched up and seeing a few feet out onto the trail is important to navigate the roots and stumps. As the race progressed I found myself more alone on the trail sometimes not seeing a runner in front of me (am I going the right way?). I saw nothing coming up behind. Entering the shaded trail, it felt like I was finding my way through the darkness. How many times in life do we feel this way – nothing in front, nothing behind making our way through the darkness? Yet we keep moving forward, the trail ever changing yet still the same. The trail was my favorite part of the course – calm and comfortable yet needing focus. You cannot shuffle on a trail or you will find yourself nose-planted into the dirt (as I saw runners before me – 4 times). Of course, a trail run is not a trail run without a nose-plant! I got to experience the trail 8 times and each time it was more serene and my pace steadily improved with each lap producing a negative split. Through the darkness on the trail, there is a chain that binds. That chain is running. In essence, all the runners on the course and specifically the trail were bound by the chain, each a link with a common desire, a unique motivation and a strength not to be broken. At some point you do lose track of how far you have gone – how far you have gone in miles, in time and in laps. It doesn’t matter anymore; what matters are the feelings and experiences of the event, the camaraderie of the other runners, and time alone. Part of the beauty of running is that you can be part of this chain yet be in your own world at the same time. As the race goes on, the sixty pound stone usually gets heavier and the half mile line has more drag. It never happened to me at Turkey Swamp. With each lap, I was stronger, more focused, relaxed and calm. I ran a negative split running the last 10 miles 4 minutes faster than the first and finishing in 3 hours 21 seconds at a 9:01 pace. It also capped off a 66 mile week, the most miles for a week in my running life. Sometimes the unexpected happens when there are no expectations, when you let the race, let life come to you, through the darkness, not knowing how far you’ve gone, with a chain that binds.
"Our greatest glory consists not in never falling, but in rising every time we fall." -Ralph Waldo Emerson, writer and poet
Monday, August 07, 2006
Is There Anybody Out There?
Is there anybody out there?
Is there anybody out there?
Is there anybody out there?
Is there anybody out there?
Is there anybody out there?
Is there anybody out there?
Is there anybody out there?
Tuesday, July 11, 2006
Help Me
Lord, Help me “run”
Another mile, just one more mile;
I'm tired of “runnin'” all alone.
Lord, Help me smile
Another smile, just one more smile;
You know I just can't make it on my own.
I never thought I needed help before;
I thought that I could get by - by myself.
Now I know I just can't take it any more.
With a humble heart, on bended knee,
I'm beggin' You, please, Help Me.
Come down from Your golden
throne to me, to lowly me;
I need to feel the touch of Your tender hand.
Remove the chains of darkness
Let me see, Lord let me see;
Just where I fit into your master plan.
Johnny Cash – Help Me – American V
I am starting to enjoy the marathons that allow me to dig into some of the history as to where the marathon takes place. This was very much the case for the Hatfield-McCoy Marathon held in the feud country of Williamson, WV and Pike County, KY. I won’t rehash the stories here since much is written about the country’s most famous family feud. Before I made the 550 mile drive to Williamson, I thought that I should at least learn a little bit about the area and the feud. It was quite fascinating but also very brutal and lasted for many years. I am sure those years of intense fear brought many in the families to ask, “Please, help me” or “help our family.”
I felt that this song captured not only how we marathoners cry out for help during the marathon but how the families of the Hatfields and McCoys cried out for help during this brutal period. I don’t mean to disrespect the feud and those that died by comparing it to a marathon but in many ways, the marathon is a feud between mind and body. In many ways we look to a higher power, whether it is in God, the Lord, some one else or ourselves to get us through a grueling 26.2 miles. We cry out, not only in the marathon but in our lives, “Please help me”. We can only get help and accept help if we ask and are willing to accept it.
Most of us think we can get by – by ourselves. We can’t - so we take one mile at a time, just one more mile. As tired as we are, we reach deeper – our body battles the mind, the mind is in conflict with the body. We are humbled by the marathon – humbled by life and on bended knee find the strength to carry on. This is the beauty of the marathon, the beauty of life – finding the strength, finding the power to go one more mile and seeing the finish line as a new starting line. Take a tender hand and let someone help you to the finish, like they are pulling you along. The chains of darkness are then removed and our eyes are opened just for the asking.
The Hatfield & McCoy marathon was challenging – over Black mountain, running alone much of the way (unless you asked for help!), the off-road trail, a swinging bridge, warmer temperatures and rolling hills. Just as in life - full of challenges. But if you ask for help, you shall receive and the journey and the finish line is much better than a DNF. None of us want a DNF in a marathon nor do we want one in life. Just ask.
Another mile, just one more mile;
I'm tired of “runnin'” all alone.
Lord, Help me smile
Another smile, just one more smile;
You know I just can't make it on my own.
I never thought I needed help before;
I thought that I could get by - by myself.
Now I know I just can't take it any more.
With a humble heart, on bended knee,
I'm beggin' You, please, Help Me.
Come down from Your golden
throne to me, to lowly me;
I need to feel the touch of Your tender hand.
Remove the chains of darkness
Let me see, Lord let me see;
Just where I fit into your master plan.
Johnny Cash – Help Me – American V
I am starting to enjoy the marathons that allow me to dig into some of the history as to where the marathon takes place. This was very much the case for the Hatfield-McCoy Marathon held in the feud country of Williamson, WV and Pike County, KY. I won’t rehash the stories here since much is written about the country’s most famous family feud. Before I made the 550 mile drive to Williamson, I thought that I should at least learn a little bit about the area and the feud. It was quite fascinating but also very brutal and lasted for many years. I am sure those years of intense fear brought many in the families to ask, “Please, help me” or “help our family.”
I felt that this song captured not only how we marathoners cry out for help during the marathon but how the families of the Hatfields and McCoys cried out for help during this brutal period. I don’t mean to disrespect the feud and those that died by comparing it to a marathon but in many ways, the marathon is a feud between mind and body. In many ways we look to a higher power, whether it is in God, the Lord, some one else or ourselves to get us through a grueling 26.2 miles. We cry out, not only in the marathon but in our lives, “Please help me”. We can only get help and accept help if we ask and are willing to accept it.
Most of us think we can get by – by ourselves. We can’t - so we take one mile at a time, just one more mile. As tired as we are, we reach deeper – our body battles the mind, the mind is in conflict with the body. We are humbled by the marathon – humbled by life and on bended knee find the strength to carry on. This is the beauty of the marathon, the beauty of life – finding the strength, finding the power to go one more mile and seeing the finish line as a new starting line. Take a tender hand and let someone help you to the finish, like they are pulling you along. The chains of darkness are then removed and our eyes are opened just for the asking.
The Hatfield & McCoy marathon was challenging – over Black mountain, running alone much of the way (unless you asked for help!), the off-road trail, a swinging bridge, warmer temperatures and rolling hills. Just as in life - full of challenges. But if you ask for help, you shall receive and the journey and the finish line is much better than a DNF. None of us want a DNF in a marathon nor do we want one in life. Just ask.
Sunday, June 04, 2006
All The Road Running
Hundreds of miles our vagabond heels
Clocked up beneath the clouds
They’re counting down to show time
When we do it for real with the crowds
Marathon miles are owing, but they don’t come for free
And they don’t give you any for pain
But if it’s all for nothing
All the road running has been in vain
The gun goes off like cannon fire
And thunder off the wall
There are runners all around
And each one is giving his all
But this is my piper, this is my drum
So you’ll never hear me complain
And if it’s all for nothing
All the road running has been in vain
All the road running
All the road running
Well if you’re inclined to go up against the wall
It can only be hard and high
And those who don’t like the danger soon
Find something different to try
And when there is only soreness in your legs
And an echo down memory lane
Then if it’s all for nothing
All the road running has been in vain
All the road running
All the road running
The emotions are high, the tears start to flow
The finish line is in sight, an amazing day
A heartfelt night, calm and relaxed
Arm in arm, hand in hand
I know it is not the last
The show’s packing up, I sit and I watch
The carnival leaving town
There’s no pretending that I’m not a fool
For running around and around
Like the pictures we keep of our old wall of death
What it’s like to run in the rain
But if it’s all for nothing
All the road running, it’s been in vain
I've twenty six miles of Cleveland sky
Clocked up beneath the sun
And I’m still your man for the running
For as long as there's running allowed
There’ll be a runner and there’ll be a wall
As long as the dream remains
And if it’s all for nothing
All the road running it’s been in vain
All the road running
All the road running
Don't let if be in vain!
I couldn't let this song go without being adapted to the marathon, specifically my experience at the Cleveland Marathon.
Adapted from All the Roadrunning - Mark Knopfler and Emmylou Harris
Clocked up beneath the clouds
They’re counting down to show time
When we do it for real with the crowds
Marathon miles are owing, but they don’t come for free
And they don’t give you any for pain
But if it’s all for nothing
All the road running has been in vain
The gun goes off like cannon fire
And thunder off the wall
There are runners all around
And each one is giving his all
But this is my piper, this is my drum
So you’ll never hear me complain
And if it’s all for nothing
All the road running has been in vain
All the road running
All the road running
Well if you’re inclined to go up against the wall
It can only be hard and high
And those who don’t like the danger soon
Find something different to try
And when there is only soreness in your legs
And an echo down memory lane
Then if it’s all for nothing
All the road running has been in vain
All the road running
All the road running
The emotions are high, the tears start to flow
The finish line is in sight, an amazing day
A heartfelt night, calm and relaxed
Arm in arm, hand in hand
I know it is not the last
The show’s packing up, I sit and I watch
The carnival leaving town
There’s no pretending that I’m not a fool
For running around and around
Like the pictures we keep of our old wall of death
What it’s like to run in the rain
But if it’s all for nothing
All the road running, it’s been in vain
I've twenty six miles of Cleveland sky
Clocked up beneath the sun
And I’m still your man for the running
For as long as there's running allowed
There’ll be a runner and there’ll be a wall
As long as the dream remains
And if it’s all for nothing
All the road running it’s been in vain
All the road running
All the road running
Don't let if be in vain!
I couldn't let this song go without being adapted to the marathon, specifically my experience at the Cleveland Marathon.
Adapted from All the Roadrunning - Mark Knopfler and Emmylou Harris
Thursday, May 11, 2006
The Road and the Radio
Ain't nothing out here but me, the road, and the radio
Lookin' for an exit, and a song that I might know
Countin' down the memories, addin' up the miles
Searching for a feeling, that I ain't felt in a while.
Clarity and inspiration
Happiness is a destination, that's hard to find
It may take some time
In my mind there's something more
And I’ll open up a brand new door
And find the strength to close the ones I left behind
I'll get there leaning on some friends I know
The road and the radio.
One can sometimes feel alone in a marathon. Some prefer it that way. Some like leaning on their friends. I ran the NJ Marathon on April 30 and it was my first road marathon and extended time on the road since December. Most of my running this year has been on trails preparing for the 50K HAT run in March. My only long run between the HAT run and the marathon was run on a canal path and not a road surface. So, there I was, out there on the road with the radio (ipod really but times have changed!). Although there were another 4,500 people out there, it still felt like it was just me, the road and the radio. My running playlist for the day was Bruce (remember, I was running at the Jersey Shore). I knew all the songs and the only exits I was looking for was a porta potty and the finish. I eventually found both. Exiting the course for a porta potty can be quite strategic because you want to minimize time but maximize volume. Trees and bushes work well for men but not so much for women although I have seen it done. The final exit or the marathon finish is the ultimate goal. I know for many of us runners, time is important but I contest that finishing a marathon is still the ultimate goal, regardless of time. It is unlike any other race. I don’t go into a 5K, 10K, 10 milers or half marathon wondering if I will finish. I know that I will and I will finish them running. However, the beauty of the marathon is that there is no certainty of finishing even for the elites (see Paula Radcliffe in the Olympic Marathon). This is where our memories come into play. New Jersey was my 17th marathon and the memories of past marathons were forever present. I counted down the memories and used my experiences to get me through while adding up the miles. I continually searched for that one feeling where I knew my entire body was in synch including my mind where the movement was natural and flowing yet focused. These feelings are sometimes only felt in races and some only in specific distances like the marathon. The feelings bring clarity and inspiration, clarity of life, inspiring to yourself, those runners around you and the “fans” on the curb. Happiness is what we are looking for in a 3, 4, 5 or 6-hour journey. It takes time and is the destination we seek to find. We know we won’t find it in 6 hours maybe not in 6 days or 6 years, maybe not in 30 or 40 or 50 years but it is the destination that we seek to find. We always look for something more and in our mind we believe there is more. But is there? When will we know when we have arrived at our destination? Is it at the finish line? Should there be a finish line? Should we always strive for something more, not materialistically, but in life in general. If the finish line of a marathon is happiness, why do I and many others continue to run them? I don’t necessarily find happiness in the finish line. I find it in the journey, not only of the day, but of the months and years of running and preparing. However, during the journey, we do need to lean on some friends and most of those friends are the “running community” in general. In a marathon or ultra, they are those runners who are out on the course or trail with you. They are the “fans” along the route, the animals or trees on the trails. They are those who encourage and support you. They (the friends) are those things and people that get you through not only to the finish but to the next starting line. Sometimes, your friends are just the road and the radio. Sometimes we runners have more comfort in the road and the radio than we do in the 4,500 others we are running with. It was a beautiful day at the Jersey Shore, the ocean capping with 6-foot waves against a bright blue sky – a journey of another 26.2 miles completed.
Lookin' for an exit, and a song that I might know
Countin' down the memories, addin' up the miles
Searching for a feeling, that I ain't felt in a while.
Clarity and inspiration
Happiness is a destination, that's hard to find
It may take some time
In my mind there's something more
And I’ll open up a brand new door
And find the strength to close the ones I left behind
I'll get there leaning on some friends I know
The road and the radio.
One can sometimes feel alone in a marathon. Some prefer it that way. Some like leaning on their friends. I ran the NJ Marathon on April 30 and it was my first road marathon and extended time on the road since December. Most of my running this year has been on trails preparing for the 50K HAT run in March. My only long run between the HAT run and the marathon was run on a canal path and not a road surface. So, there I was, out there on the road with the radio (ipod really but times have changed!). Although there were another 4,500 people out there, it still felt like it was just me, the road and the radio. My running playlist for the day was Bruce (remember, I was running at the Jersey Shore). I knew all the songs and the only exits I was looking for was a porta potty and the finish. I eventually found both. Exiting the course for a porta potty can be quite strategic because you want to minimize time but maximize volume. Trees and bushes work well for men but not so much for women although I have seen it done. The final exit or the marathon finish is the ultimate goal. I know for many of us runners, time is important but I contest that finishing a marathon is still the ultimate goal, regardless of time. It is unlike any other race. I don’t go into a 5K, 10K, 10 milers or half marathon wondering if I will finish. I know that I will and I will finish them running. However, the beauty of the marathon is that there is no certainty of finishing even for the elites (see Paula Radcliffe in the Olympic Marathon). This is where our memories come into play. New Jersey was my 17th marathon and the memories of past marathons were forever present. I counted down the memories and used my experiences to get me through while adding up the miles. I continually searched for that one feeling where I knew my entire body was in synch including my mind where the movement was natural and flowing yet focused. These feelings are sometimes only felt in races and some only in specific distances like the marathon. The feelings bring clarity and inspiration, clarity of life, inspiring to yourself, those runners around you and the “fans” on the curb. Happiness is what we are looking for in a 3, 4, 5 or 6-hour journey. It takes time and is the destination we seek to find. We know we won’t find it in 6 hours maybe not in 6 days or 6 years, maybe not in 30 or 40 or 50 years but it is the destination that we seek to find. We always look for something more and in our mind we believe there is more. But is there? When will we know when we have arrived at our destination? Is it at the finish line? Should there be a finish line? Should we always strive for something more, not materialistically, but in life in general. If the finish line of a marathon is happiness, why do I and many others continue to run them? I don’t necessarily find happiness in the finish line. I find it in the journey, not only of the day, but of the months and years of running and preparing. However, during the journey, we do need to lean on some friends and most of those friends are the “running community” in general. In a marathon or ultra, they are those runners who are out on the course or trail with you. They are the “fans” along the route, the animals or trees on the trails. They are those who encourage and support you. They (the friends) are those things and people that get you through not only to the finish but to the next starting line. Sometimes, your friends are just the road and the radio. Sometimes we runners have more comfort in the road and the radio than we do in the 4,500 others we are running with. It was a beautiful day at the Jersey Shore, the ocean capping with 6-foot waves against a bright blue sky – a journey of another 26.2 miles completed.
Sunday, April 09, 2006
Carry My Cross
So I'll carry my cross
And I'll carry the shame
To the end of the road
Through the struggle and pain
And I'll do it for love
No, it won't be in vain
Yes, I'll carry my cross
And I'll carry the shame
I have been without words but not without running since December 31. Maybe it is because I can't put the first few months of the year into words. I won't try at this point. As an update on my running, I completed my first ultra marathon in March, a 50K trail run through Susquehanna State Forest in Maryland. It is a wonderful venue for a 31 mile stroll on the trails. It was not without struggle and pain as I twisted an ankle on a rock that jutted out on one of the rockier, downhill portions of trail. Unfortunately, this was at mile 6. I was ready to pack it in for the day but I still had 9 miles back to the mid-point start/finish (this is a 15 mile double loop course) and at least 4 miles to the aid station not to mention, that if I did continue, I still had 25 miles of trail running over the same terrain to the finish. I have turned this ankle 2 other times on trail runs and just hoped that I could get through 31 miles without doing it again. I struggled down to a flat road area where I could run a little more normal. I hooked up with a guy named Tim from the local running club and we chatted about turned ankles and the babbling brook beside us. It helped having someone to chat with until reaching the aid station. I took 3 Ibuprofen, ate some Oreos and a banana at the aid station and continued on. The last portion of the loop back to the start/finish has the highest climbs. I was overcompensating for my ankle by using more of my right leg so that leg was certainly getting worn out. The climbs were easier than the descents as my left ankle could only take so much weight bearing activity. I got back to the start/finish, changed shirts, gloves and put on a knit hat, ate some more Oreos, a banana and went potty. As much as I wanted to quit earlier, I now felt like quitting was not an option. I could have easily packed it in but something kept me on the course - to go back out on a sprained ankle and do it all over again on the same terrain. I actually looked forward to running through the cold streams thinking that the cold, however brief, would be good for the ankle. I knew that I would not be close to a decent time but also knew that navigating the trail carefully, running where I could, and walking where I needed to would get me to the finish. For some reason, I actually felt better on the second loop maybe because I was committed (or maybe it was because I should have been committed); maybe because I knew it was only one more lap; maybe it was the hat (only awarded to finishers) at the finish; maybe it was because I have never DNFed in a race; maybe it was because I knew what the finish symbolized; maybe it was because I knew what the journey symbolized; maybe it was because of all the training effort and sacrifice; maybe it was because there are worse things in this world than running in a beautiful forest even with a sprained ankle; maybe because I knew that the effort would not be in vain; and maybe, just maybe it was for love. Whatever it was, I kept going just like we all have to do in life. It doesn't matter how fast or how slow my time of 6 hours and 50 minutes was, what matters is that I endured and persevered and pressed forward - relentless forward progress - to a finish line filled with joy and smiles, wonderment and amazement - 143.
Ultra runs of 50K, 100K and 100 miles symbolize the journey through life. Most if not all of these are on trails, many mountainous, many treacherous - in essence just like life. We navigate the obstacles the best we can, sometimes we fall, sometimes we sprain an ankle, sometimes we are on the edge yet with others we find the beauty of the trail, the mountains and streams, lakes, the meditative quietness, the support and camaraderie. Never is it perfect even for the elite runners, there are always struggles, some worse than others. It is about the journey and finding ways to get up after a fall, walk after a sprained ankle, and bounce back after a failure just as in life. In essence, we all carry the cross and sacrifice ourselves in many ways and it is never in vain.
And I'll carry the shame
To the end of the road
Through the struggle and pain
And I'll do it for love
No, it won't be in vain
Yes, I'll carry my cross
And I'll carry the shame
I have been without words but not without running since December 31. Maybe it is because I can't put the first few months of the year into words. I won't try at this point. As an update on my running, I completed my first ultra marathon in March, a 50K trail run through Susquehanna State Forest in Maryland. It is a wonderful venue for a 31 mile stroll on the trails. It was not without struggle and pain as I twisted an ankle on a rock that jutted out on one of the rockier, downhill portions of trail. Unfortunately, this was at mile 6. I was ready to pack it in for the day but I still had 9 miles back to the mid-point start/finish (this is a 15 mile double loop course) and at least 4 miles to the aid station not to mention, that if I did continue, I still had 25 miles of trail running over the same terrain to the finish. I have turned this ankle 2 other times on trail runs and just hoped that I could get through 31 miles without doing it again. I struggled down to a flat road area where I could run a little more normal. I hooked up with a guy named Tim from the local running club and we chatted about turned ankles and the babbling brook beside us. It helped having someone to chat with until reaching the aid station. I took 3 Ibuprofen, ate some Oreos and a banana at the aid station and continued on. The last portion of the loop back to the start/finish has the highest climbs. I was overcompensating for my ankle by using more of my right leg so that leg was certainly getting worn out. The climbs were easier than the descents as my left ankle could only take so much weight bearing activity. I got back to the start/finish, changed shirts, gloves and put on a knit hat, ate some more Oreos, a banana and went potty. As much as I wanted to quit earlier, I now felt like quitting was not an option. I could have easily packed it in but something kept me on the course - to go back out on a sprained ankle and do it all over again on the same terrain. I actually looked forward to running through the cold streams thinking that the cold, however brief, would be good for the ankle. I knew that I would not be close to a decent time but also knew that navigating the trail carefully, running where I could, and walking where I needed to would get me to the finish. For some reason, I actually felt better on the second loop maybe because I was committed (or maybe it was because I should have been committed); maybe because I knew it was only one more lap; maybe it was the hat (only awarded to finishers) at the finish; maybe it was because I have never DNFed in a race; maybe it was because I knew what the finish symbolized; maybe it was because I knew what the journey symbolized; maybe it was because of all the training effort and sacrifice; maybe it was because there are worse things in this world than running in a beautiful forest even with a sprained ankle; maybe because I knew that the effort would not be in vain; and maybe, just maybe it was for love. Whatever it was, I kept going just like we all have to do in life. It doesn't matter how fast or how slow my time of 6 hours and 50 minutes was, what matters is that I endured and persevered and pressed forward - relentless forward progress - to a finish line filled with joy and smiles, wonderment and amazement - 143.
Ultra runs of 50K, 100K and 100 miles symbolize the journey through life. Most if not all of these are on trails, many mountainous, many treacherous - in essence just like life. We navigate the obstacles the best we can, sometimes we fall, sometimes we sprain an ankle, sometimes we are on the edge yet with others we find the beauty of the trail, the mountains and streams, lakes, the meditative quietness, the support and camaraderie. Never is it perfect even for the elite runners, there are always struggles, some worse than others. It is about the journey and finding ways to get up after a fall, walk after a sprained ankle, and bounce back after a failure just as in life. In essence, we all carry the cross and sacrifice ourselves in many ways and it is never in vain.
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