Written on the Wall

I heard stories about Moses in the desert
And I wondered if the years he'd spent there
Were anything like mine
'Cause he ran trying to escape
The consequences of mistakes he made
Never knew You loved him all the while

And You called his name

And I wish You still spoke through burning bushes
And I wish You still wrote on blocks of stone
'Cause the sound of this world's deafening
And I'm having a hard time listening
And I wish Your will was still written on the wall

Todd Agnew - Written on the Wall

It's a new year starting a new decade but it is the same old world - for now. The world is deafening for sure as the media focuses only on negativity and hatred that is rampant throughout our day. In many ways, the media is a torch that lights the fuse. If the headlines were bulging with love, smiles, dance and song - all metaphors for what is good - would we be any better off? Maybe the newshounds that want to make a name for themselves would not do it out of hatred but out of goodness. Has the world listened to the last 10 years with the downfall of greed, pride and selfishness - just as God says?

I've been to the desert in the last 10 years and I have learned. If the world doesn't learn, the downfall will be greater. God still loves us even when we try to escape. He lifts us up to make us better. He calls upon us to do greater things. He speaks to us in different ways - burning bushes? blocks of stones? - maybe not. But, written on the wall? Yes, maybe. It is up to us if we listen; if we turn the volume down on our deafening world and turn it up for God. Let us not be just another brick in the wall but a brick upon which God has written.

I run to turn down the world. It is a time of solitude, prayer, God, smiles for others, a howdy here and a good morning there, a new melody in life, a chat with the animals, new dreams and endless possibilities, a tap dance through nature, friends I didn't know I had, and a finish just to look forward to a new start. It's Joy Unspeakable as is God.

A Happy and Joyous New Year is wished for all!

P.S. Runner unknown of the Marathon Des Sables - 6 day marathon (151 miles) across Sahara Desert in Morocco

Observations from the Trail - Winter Edition

It is Winter and now Runners Mecca - AKA Manasquan Reservoir Trail - is barren. The trail is hard. The trees naked. The cold wind appears to swirl from every direction. It is now home to the hard core folks who just plain love the outdoors no matter what the temperature. Back in the summer I wrote about my observations on the trail and now I would like to share some more as winter is introducing itself to New Jersey. I also have labeled people. We all have labels in some way - good and bad. Any labels below are not meant to be bad just as a way to identify characters within an observation.

• Camouflage bicycle guy - I've seen this guy in the summer and he appears to always be wearing camouflage while riding his bicycle. In the summer it worked because he blended in with the trees - worked for what I don't know. In the winter, he is no longer camouflaged since there are no leaves or greenish brown vegetation. He now needs to wear grays and blacks.

• Dog walker shorts guy - At first glance, this guy looks like a tourist. He has binoculars around his neck, a walking stick, shorts on and a dog by his side. The two days I saw him the temperature was in the 20s. I can run in shorts when the temperature is 35 but he was walking. I admire this guy though. He was friendly always saying hi. He was with man's best friend, his dog. He was exercising using his walking stick to go further down the trail. With his binoculars, he was paying attention to life's detail.

• Running dog guy - This guy runs with his dog but it looks like his dog paces him. They are both fleet on their feet. However, when a dog's gotta go, he's gotta go! So I am running down the trail, see the guy stop and move to the side with the dog. You know how dogs are. When they have to poop, they look sheepish, turn some away from you and squat. Then they turn their head slightly back, tongue kind of hanging out (he was running, mind you) with this dual expression of "hey, look at me now!" and "I'm a little embarrassed by this" and do their thing. It was funny to watch especially making up things the dog and runner guy were thinking.

• Doggie play dates - As you see, there seems to be a theme here which lead me to initially believe that dog walkers were hardier than runners because on the really cold days, there were more dog walkers than runners. Each day I see four women walking 5 dogs in a group which appears to be a doggie play date. The dogs know and look forward to the arrival of the others and the women talk to them about their little buddies. The tails wag and the excitement is evident. Wouldn't it be nice if people enjoyed seeing each other like the way dogs do - no expectations, just the love of being together. I also saw another group of women with their dogs on another day which begged the question, "why are there no guys walking dogs in play groups." So to not insult women or men, I will keep my thoughts on that to myself.

• Do ducks' asses ever get cold? Yes, I know, they have feathers but that water has to be really cold.

• Hatless guy - When the temperatures were in the low 20s, I saw an older guy who needed to be wearing a hat. Oddly enough, I saw the same guy a few days later when the temperature was in the high 40s wearing ear muffs. Maybe his ears were numb when it was 20 so he couldn't feel them anyway.

• Nature and friendliness - I still proclaim that the people who frequent the Manasquan Reservoir are the friendliest in New Jersey. New Jersey needs friendly people and I have seemed to have found a place where the congregate. I believe that the beauty of the reservoir brings out good feelings in people - being in nature, outside of their home, outside of their office, exercised and energized, being with their dog buddies, other runners, walkers and camouflaged bicyclists. Nature is the best of what God has made, the purity of it all, the beauty, the elements of sunshine and snow. I need the four seasons to experience it all - new life in the spring,, summer swelter, fall foliage and the dormancy and rest in winter just to start the cycle again in spring.

I hardly mentioned runners here but they did appear again on Saturday and Sunday. Generally winter runners are the hard-core runners that make running a lifestyle. The freshness of a winter run is incomparable to the rest of the year - the quiet solitude, cold air that makes the tongue tingle, the views through the naked forest - all capped off with a cup of hot chocolate with those tiny little marshmallows in it. Now that is a run worth having!

Runners Like Us

I take off time to time
With those crazy friends of mine
Head out on the road
With legs we run

We burn up the road in any marathon
Blend in with the masses
Just us friends
And we roll

Runners like us sure do have fun
Racin' the wind, chasin' the sun
Take the long way 'round back to square one
Today we're just outlaws out on the run
There'll be no regrets, no worries and such
For runners like us

I have friends in marathons that I don't know I have. I am a friend to runners in marathons that they don't know they have. It is the beauty of the sport especially for those of us that run marathons regularly. The bastardized words above to Cowboys Like Us show this sense of belonging and fellowship. We are all crazy to some degree - running marathons on consecutive days, consecutive weeks, a few times a month interspersed with a 50 or 100 mile fun run. We'll run any marathon, not just the check-it-off-life's-list, rock 'n' roller. We run marathons that are smaller than 5Ks, without pacers and without fans. We have each other. We pace together, we chat, learn a few things about one another and move on - and we roll.

We always have fun - what wind? Rain? It's just water, put me on your ass, I don't care, water doesn't care. There is always sun on marathon day - a day of brilliant rays of hope and friendship, the passion of the run. Sometimes, they take us out 26 miles and drop us off - "run back", they say. Other times, we run in a circle - 26.2 miles resulting in net-0 miles gained. Other times they tease us. Let's take them close to the finish line at mile 8, 13 and 18 and then torture them with, "you're almost there!" Hills must be strategically placed - "you think you got this? think again!" All along, your friends are there. We are just marathon outlaws out on a run, renegades, pirates and gypsies, a band on the run. Our only regret is not being able to run "that" marathon because I want to run "this" marathon. Our worries are gone for those brief few hours. We are with our friends, those who pull us along, encourage us, laugh with us, many of whom we do not know but will afterwards. Running is my friend. The marathon is my friend. Both are always there for me - kick my butt when I need it, give me exuberant joy when I least expect it. Fellow runners, thanks for being my friend also.

Theory of a Dead Runner

My heartfelt thoughts and prayers go out to the family and friends of the 23 year old runner who died yesterday in the Baltimore Marathon. WBAL TV said that he collapsed around the 23 mile mark. A resident tried to help him until the medical crew got there. He later died at the hospital with a core body temperature of 107.

Some of the greatest runners in the world have died while running - Jim Fixx and more recently Ryan Shay in the Olympic Marathon Trials. I am sure there have been many others of all abilities. In essence, I am sure I have a better chance dying in an accident on the New Jersey Turnpike than while running. I don't mean for this to be a morbid entry but more about life. The energy and life around a running festival with 20,000 runners and 200,000 spectators abounds and reverberates throughout the entire city. With so much life why does one have to die? One can theorize and contemplate this forever.

One who believes in God knows that God has a plan; He is in control of life and death. He also puts life into perspective. Today, as I was walking on a serene, peaceful trail enjoying the fall weather, breaking up the lactic acid in my legs and working out the slight soreness, He also reminded me of my mortality. I thought about the runner who died yesterday. I theorize that he went into the marathon well-trained, happy with a full, bright life in front of him, looking to celebrate his accomplishment with family and friends. He never crossed the finish line but his journey in both running and life may have been memorable up to that fateful moment. Although we all want to get to the finish, we need to make sure that we make the most of the journey. At any time the journey can end. It is cliché but live life to the fullest with those people who allow you to do so and by doing those things that make you smile, have a positive energy, and give you life.

The life of this runner will be carried on by his friends and family. I suspect that they will run again in his memory and honor potentially helping others in the process. In many regards, I believe this is God's way to expand the life of one in death. Again, my thoughts and prayers are with them.

God's plan will determine life and death. When I die, I hope that it is while running. But God, I do ask that if I die while running, that I do so after crossing the finish line of a marathon. I have never had a DNF in a marathon and I would hate for my first one to be because I died.

Observations From the Trail

When running for a few hours on a 5 mile loop trail (15 miles) you get to observe a lot especially when you pass the same people and sites multiple times. I have written about the Mecca a few times before - you know, the one where the Osprey nests are. In a way it reminds me of when I used to run in Central Park, NYC every morning. the faces and paces became familiar. Although Central Park just didn't seem as friendly or was it me that wasn't as friendly?


The heat and humidity broke slightly today and even the slightest change made for a better run. I wasn't any dryer in the end but it was a solid run. So, as I made my way around the lake perimeter multiple times, I made a few observations and asked a few questions:

• Who scoops the horse poop from the wooden bridge and why does the horse go in the same spot on the same bridge? For some reason I find trails (like Assimpink) that allow horses.


• Pony tails have a cadence to them (not that I would know from my own.) Even in marathons, you can become hypnotized by the bouncing or swinging of pony tails. Maybe my previous blog entry should have been called Asses, pony tails and elbows! BTW, this is a unisex observation.

• Youngins run faster than oldins. It appears that one of the college or high school cross country or track teams workout on the trail. Both boys and girls fly! But I wondered, will they run 50 marathons by the time they are 50? Longevity matters!


• Do dogs like to run? I am thinking some do and some don't because some are being dragged by their owners and some owners are being dragged by their dogs. What kills me are the dogs about the size of rats that have to take a thousand steps for one stride by their owners. I saw a guy with a miniature Dachshund today and the dogs legs were like the pistons in an 800 HP NASCAR engine.


• Mecca is a place for everyone: runners (fast and slow), walkers, bike riders, hikers, boaters, fisherman, weight-challenged, food-challenged, mentally-challenged (that would be all of us), half-naked and fully-clothed; the greyhound club, boy scouts, old and young. People are friendly - hardly anyone passes without a hello, good morning, How ya doin' (OK it is NJ.)


• Its a familiar place - kind of like Cheers - without Norm sitting at the end of the bar. I'm starting to know faces although not names since you pass them in a split second. I suspect, someday, I will know some names too.


• Groups and solos - Runners have preferences as to whether they run in a group or run solo. Personally, I like the peace and pace of running by myself. Although, I will pace off of others if I can keep up with them. The groups of runners have conversations going. I prefer a conversation with myself. I have enough conversation with others during the week.


• Going back to the horse poop - I never see dog poop. I guess that is good and people pick up the poop in those little plastic bags. Can you image doing that for a horse? You would need those giant plastic grocery bags. Can you imagine taking a cat on a run like a dog? First, the cat would stop dead in its tracks and stare for no good reason. Then, on a trail run, they would want to climb the trees. And finally, they would scare the daylights out of all the dogs!
  

Well, that is enough of observations for now. I am sure I will have more random thoughts over time.

Asses and Elbows

...as we were watching Sugarland perfrom on Saturday night in Philadelphia...the song Down to Mississippi included the lyrics:

Hammer down,
here we go Runnin' for the riverboat
All you're gonna see are asses and elbows

...but isn't this all we see as runners in races? ... asses and elbows... and actually, it's not that bad of a sight...

I just hammered down 10 miles at the Manasquan Mecca and although I say "hammered" in jest of the lyrics, I really did pick it up the last 5 miles and hammered! I rode my bike to Mecca all of about 2.2 miles, ran 10 miles and rode back. The people who go to this Mecca seem to be the nicest people in New Jersey. Nearly every runner, walker and rider says hi or acknowledges your existence in some way even if it is "on your left..." The views of the reservoir can be stared at for hours with the calmness and peace of an early morning dew just sitting on the foliage waiting for the Sun to adopt the droplets back into their home. The Osprey nests are still perched high in the naked trees that are protected by the still water of the reservoir. What a great view these sea birds have.

Anyway, what started with asses and elbows ends with calmness and silence. The next time you run a race, think of these lyrics!

Badlands

I believe in the faith that could save me.
I believe in the hope and I pray that some day it
Will raise me above these
Badlands...

It is ironic that the Badlands in South Dakota are called Badlands when they are so beautiful - genuinely bizarre, enticing to the imagination, and awe inspiring with creativity. Luckily the marathon didn't traverse the jagged edges of the volcanic remnants of Earth's formation millions of years ago. Instead the marathoners got to experience the contrasting pastoral and dark greens of the Black Hills National Forrest on a Rails to Trails converted path meandering around mountains, babbling brooks, and horse and cattle pastures. We started in Rochford, a dilapidated little town where the town Church's bathroom facilities was an outhouse. It was quaint and somewhat perfectly simple in this world of complexities. People ask why I would go to South Dakota to run 26.2 miles. There is no better way to experience an area than by running through it feeling the changing earth under your feet, meeting locals who come up to cheer and volunteer to hand you a cup of water during the brief second of visitation, and exploring an area where you might never be otherwise. Visiting South Dakota was a pleasant surprise being able to see the majesty of Mt. Rushmore, the Black Hills, Badlands, Wall Drug, Minuteman Missile National Site, Chapel in the Hills, the famous (and infamous) western town of Deadwood home to the marathon, Wild Bill Hiccok and Calamity Jane. I stayed in Sturgis, destination of the famous Motorcycle Rally being held for the 69th time this August. Oh yes, I did run the marathon on the George S. Michelson Trail. What I didn't realize and never even thought to consider was that the marathon is run at about 6000 feet of altitude with the first 13 miles uphill cresting at mile 13 and then dropping 1500 feet to Deadwood. The first 5 miles were a real struggle but later acclimated and ran the second half slightly faster than the first. I was happy with 4:08 bearing in mind the slight altitude and stopping to take pictures. So, the Badlands really turned out to be the Goodlands. Maybe there is a lesson to be learned that the Badlands are necessary to find the Goodlands.

The Pack - three weeks prior to the Deadwood Marathon, I ran in Green Bay. Although I seemed to really never find Green Bay, I found what I was looking for in the home to the oldest NFL football stadium in the country and to one of the original professional football teams in the country - the Green Bay Packers. The great Vince Lombardi haunts the venue to make you feel like your best is not good enough meaning you can always go beyond your best and make it something special. For me, the marathon in Green Bay was special. It was my 7th fastest marathon and maybe the most comfortable in years. I ran 3:50 with an even split pacing with the 3:50 pace group (mostly because I forgot my watch.) I toured Lambeau field and visited the Green Bay Packer Hall of Fame the day before. The history and greatness of the the franchise, players and coaches just make you want to put forth your greatest effort, especially the last quarter mile when lapping the interior of Lambeau field to the cheers of fans. For me, I can't figure out any other reason to go to Green Bay and I noticed that the dairy cows in Wisconsin are quite lazy.

It has been 6 months and 9 marathons in 9 different states. I have also reached 30 different states in my quest to run a marathon in each U.S. state. My next marathon/ultra will be my 50th and I plan/hope to get to my 50th marathon in New Orleans on my 50th Birthday in February. I need to run 6 more between now and then. It is a wonderful way to see different parts of the country - the Badlands as a good example.

21 Days, 2 Marathons and a Half-Marathon

These are the races I ran since I last wrote the night before the Kentucky Derby marathon. The three events could not have been any different from one another.

The running of the roses turned into the wilting of the roses. It just so happened that the east experienced summer-like temperatures and humidity the weekend of the Kentucky Derby Marathon. If there is one prominent enemy of the marathoner, it is temperature and humidly. When I boarded the bus to the start at 5:15 AM, the temperature was already 71 degrees and by the time the Kentucky Derby bugler bugled, it was in the high 70s. Most of the race was run with temperatures between 80 and 85. It was miserable. I have never seen so many people walk in a marathon but they would have put themselves at risk if they tried any harder. Over 30 runners were taken to the hospital and another 120 treated along the course. Water was plentiful but being in plastic bottles did little to quench thirst or cool the runner. I ended up walking much of the last 5 or so miles just to get to the finish. My time suffered from my previous 3 sub-4 hour marathons to a dismal 4:45. However, the highlights happened the day before while touring the Louisville Slugger Museum, Churchill Downs and visiting the Kentucky Derby Hall of Fame.

One week later Shawn and I ventured to Frederick Maryland to run the first half of the Maryland Double, the Frederick half-marathon. Shawn had been training hard and this was one of his first events after a lay-off. The temperatures were good although rain was expected. We ran a great race with each other, pacing each other to the finish with a negative split done in thirds to a finish time of 1:51:56. It felt great and we were both excited at the finish.

Now, here I sit in Milwaukee the day after the Green Bay Marathon, my 28th state. Although there are some very good marathons in Wisconsin, Green bay was chosen due to the venue. Everything was held at Lambeau field, home to the Green Bay Packers and the oldest NFL stadium in the league. Upon Arriving I went to the expo which was held in the Lambeau field Atrium. Once I secured all my “running stuff” I signed up for the Lambeau field tour and Packers Hall of Fame. Just like in Kentucky, these were going to be the highlights of the trip. Both were fantastic and I learned a lot about the history of Lambeau and the Packers. On marathon morning I awoke to a perfect day with temperatures in the 40s and brilliant sunshine (of course, there is no sunshine when I awake most days.) The temperature was 30 degrees different from Louisville and perfect marathon temperatures. The start and finish lines were at Lambeau with one lap around the field inside Lambeau at mile 26. What a spectacular feeling with all of the history there. As I was walking to the start, I realized that I had forgotton my watch. OK, I thought, I will just run by feel, not a big deal. The race started with a prayer from the local bishop, a nice touch prior to the start. As the race director yelled “start”, the entire field of half-marathoners, marathoners and relay runners started their journey. I felt a little fast at the start and knew I needed to drop back a bit. I hooked up with the 3:50 pace group and decided to hang with them as long as I could. At the very least, one of them will have a watch. It turns out that I ran with them nearly the whole marathon, pacing with Craig and another 10 runners most of the way. My right calf froze at around mile 24 but a short stretch helped. Entering Lambeau just gave me the chills passing over some of the same original stone that Vince Lombardi, Bart Starr, Bret Favre and countless others passed over. Running the lap and looking to the bowl of bleachers (all seats in Lambeau are bleachers which reminded me of Notre dame’s stadium.) and what it would feel like on game day. Around the final end zone, spectators were cheering and high-fiving as we ran down the sideline back through the Packer tunnel to the finish. My net time of 3:50:36 was my 7th best marathon and best since the same weekend in 2007. Physically, I felt great after finishing, like I was just out for a Sunday “drive” something I had always liked to do with my parents as a kid. Although my Sunday “drives” are now about the same distance, they are done on foot but have that same relaxing feeling to them. I am off to South Dakota in three weeks – to the Badlands.

Post script: I ran nearly a perfect marathon in Green Bay, 7th best overall and best in two years running 3:50:36. I will write more about this soon.

Run For the Roses

When most people hear “run for the roses”, they think of one thing, the Kentucky Derby, the greatest horse race in the world. I’m heading to this same venue, Louisville, in the air as I write, to also run for the roses in the Kentucky Derby Festival Marathon. The marathon is the week before the real Kentucky Derby but the same day when racing starts at Churchill Downs, home to the famous race. Sure, they could have us drink mint juleps before the marathon and make us trek 26.2 miles in the deep dirt and sand around the famed track but they have spared us this challenge. But, at mile 9, we do enter Churchill Downs for a lap around the infield to soak in all the history of the great event, to envision and imagine the charm of the southern gals displaying their spring attire and fanciful hats along with the gentleman whose timepieces fall to their sides, tucked in their vest pockets anxiously awaiting post time. It is high stakes racing and the beginning of the elusive Triple Crown – the opportunity for the horse, jockey, owner and trainer to go down in history or to live in infamy as a one-race wonder.

On May 2nd the Kentucky Derby will be run and when watching it, I will know that I also gave it my best around the historical track. There will be no red roses at the end or mint juleps at the beginning (maybe afterwards) but there will be the feeling that I experienced a hundred thrty-fve years of history in a few minutes of running. Marathons are not only about running but to experience the destination. It doesn’t have to be something as grand as the Kentucky Derby. It can be just as interesting and rewarding visiting small venues like Gilsum, NH, Piney Point, MD or Schroon Lake, NY. Small town charm and big city energy both play handsomely in American culture.

While in Louisville, I plan to visit Louisville Slugger factory and museum just as I toured CNN and the aquarium in Atlanta four weeks earlier during the ING Georgia Marathon. The Atlanta race had unrelenting hills which I never complain about but they were a challenge in colder windy conditions. The start, with 13,000 half-marathoners was extremely crowded, almost claustrophobic and I was happy to see them depart at mile 7. I very rarely chat for prolonged periods of time during a run but at mile 7, I hooked up with a guy training for an ironman and we ran together and chatted for the next 13 miles. At mile 20, which is where the race begins, I knew that I was really close to making the finish in less than 4 hours. I picked up the pace a bit but the hills continued to take their toll and I cramped at mile 24. The home stretch was tough but toughness is what the marathon is about. I finished in 3:59:25 just barely making it but happy to do so.

We are on our descent. I need to look for Big Brown, the giant Louisville Slugger bat and Churchill Downs and get ready to run for the roses.

A Runner's Marathon

The Lower Potomac River Marathon was the smallest marathon that I have run. There were 155 finishers. It is a runner's marathon. I certainly have nothing against runners/walkers of all abilities taking part in any running event. In actuality, our society needs more of this. I am a mid-pack runner myself. However, there was something intimate about the LPRM. There was no hoopla, no rock 'n roll, no spectators, no goodie bags, no event merchandise, no bus rides to the start and no $19 pictures for purchase (volunteers took photos and posted to a Flikr site.) It was a marathon for runners who love to run, who love the purity of the sport. This is not to say that these folks are elite runners but more to say that they are committed runners (or maybe runners who should be committed!) Running a marathon is not a checklist item, it is a way of life for most of them, marathoners who see each other on the "circuit." They are people who have made friends running, get to share stories, and discuss the best and worst of marathons. Many of them are marathon maniacs and 50 staters. I had more chats and interactions during this marathon of 155 than I did during Phoenix's Rock 'n' Roll whose numbers were in the 35,000 range. The other difference in intimacy of the marathon is in directorship. Obviously, in the larger marathons the race director cannot respond with a personal message to each runner. Even in some of the smaller marathons, this doesn't happen. I was surprised to see a personal greeting and even an exchange of emails with the Race Director of the LPRM. During registration and post-race, she even remembered my name. Most of my favorite marathons have been smaller, intimate races held in tiny towns typically with great community support sometimes more than in the big cities. The views and courses have been genuinely wonderful as well. The LPRM was no different with views of the wispy inlets of the Potomac River and Chesapeake Bay. The post-race buffet of pasta, salad and desserts prepared by the Paul Hall Center, Harry Lundeberg School of Seamanship, Piney Point, MD was the best meal I have had after a marathon. A couple of my other favorite small marathons are the Adirondack Distance Festival in Lake Schroon, NY, Clarence Demar in Gilsum-Keene, NH and Cape Cod, MA. The LPRM will be added to this list. I don't mean to downplay the larger marathons because there is great energy and fantastic participation at these events even in poor economic times. I read an article in Runner's World that running appears to be recession-proof. The numbers have not appeared to have decreased with races still closing out to capacity. Whether the race is small, medium or large there is an uplift in the economy in and around the venue. When running in Birmingham, AL the restaurants that had been slow prior to the marathon had to put on extra staff during marathon weekend. Not only is there an uplift in the economy but I notice a genuine uplift in people's spirits during these events - the smiles, the laughter, the struggles, the joy of finishing. Maybe this is why the movie "The Spirit of the Marathon" is so appropriately titled.

So, now I sit in Atlanta Georgia amidst thunder and lightning awaiting the start of the ING Georgia Marathon tomorrow, my 6th this year, 27th state and 40th marathon overall and on my way to my 50th marathon on my 50th birthday at the Mardi Gras Marathon in New Orleans next February. The weather is going to pass and tomorrow will be another perfect day for running 26.2 miles with a spirited group of runners, volunteers and spectators. Yes, this is a big city marathon but the spirit still lives in the runners, organizers and sponsors whose money benefits multiple charities.

Faith and Doubt

If you haven’t read John Ortberg, you should. His books are full of life teachings in the context of the bible, great philosophers and theologians alike. His current book, Faith and Doubt “takes an honest look at the misgivings and uncertainties that often obscure our view of God”.

This blog is not about religion or God yet my running life is somewhat governed by faith and doubt. John Ortberg asks, “What if the most important word is the one in the middle?” He argues that the very nature of faith requires the presence of uncertainty and doubt could actually strengthen our relationship with God.

So, you may be asking yourself what this has to do with running. I have wondered over the last 10 years why I have been so attracted to the marathon and beyond distance. Why have I run 43 marathons and ultras since 2001? Why have I run 4 marathons in the first 6 weeks of 2009? Why have I registered for 24 hour run in July? While reading his book, it has dawned on me - Faith and Doubt.

To run so many marathons and ultras (better known to me as “multras”), you need faith in yourself, others and in God. You not only need faith while running but while training and while recovering - allowing your body to be torn down and subsequently built up before it is ultimately destroyed by the multra. God was the chief architect of our bodies and gave it the ability to continuously get stronger through training and recovery. You toe the starting line with faith, peace and presence. Look around you and see the joy and anxious energy of others all permeating through faith. I say one last prayer of peace to allow the energy to leave my body for those in need. I must exhaust it all. There is no reason to leave any behind. It must be left on the course and transcend to others.

However, the beauty of the multra is in its doubt and uncertainty. For most distances up through the marathon, not finishing doesn’t enter the mind. But in a marathon or ultra, because of the distance, being beyond what the mind and body was designed for, uncertainty and doubt is very real. If it was a certainty, you would no longer need faith. I don’t need faith to run a 5K. I need faith to run a marathon or a 50 miler or for 24 hours. Even elite runners need the same faith and generally thank God after their runs. This uncertainty and doubt keeps me running marathon after marathon – the doubt of finishing, the uncertainty of time, the doubt of my physical being, the struggle with my thoughts. Faith must win out and it is much better to live with faith than doubt. It is much stronger and just generally a better way to live – a better way to run. Maybe through my faith is why I have finished every marathon that I have started. Maybe through faith is why I just ran under 4 hours (3:57) again for the first time in 18 months and in my 4th marathon in 6 weeks. Maybe through faith is why I am still alive. In the worst economic times of our lifetime, maybe we need faith.

I will continue to stretch my faith AND doubt with running the most multras I have ever run in one year. That faith will benefit others as well as my running this year is dedicated to charitable causes for each step I move forward a donation will be made.

Faith and Doubt – Faith is a footbridge that you don’t know will hold you up over the chasm until you are forced to walk out onto it. – Nicholas Wolterstorff

…and John 20:27

Then He said to Thomas, "Put your finger here; see my hands. Reach out your hand and put it into my side. Stop doubting and believe."

The Price You Pay

You make up your mind, you choose the chance you take

You “run” to where the highway ends and the desert breaks

Out on to an open road you “run” until the day

You learn to sleep at night with the price you pay

It has been a month and three marathons later since I have written. The chance I took was to run 3 marathons in 22 days – so trivial. There isn’t much chance in running, not like in life itself. The only chance I was taking in running 3 marathons in 22 days was basically not finishing one of them although 26.2 miles isn’t that far and can be walked by nearly anyone. Of course, there is a price to pay when maximizing your effort usually through mental and physical pain. I could certainly die running but then again I have more of a chance dying in a car accident than running 26.2 miles. So, where really is the chance? Chance in life is much different because the price you pay affects everyone around you. So, for us hardcore runners, do we run so that we can sleep at night with the chances taken – the price to be paid? Were the hills of Mississippi, the desert of Arizona and the jagged coastal beaches of California a metaphor for the twists and turns, ups and downs that life bestows upon us? Will God ever help with the price you pay?

Now with their hands held high, they reached out for the open skies

And in one last breath they built the roads they'd “run” to their death

”Running” on through the night, unable to break away

From the restless pull of the price you pay

In three marathons, I ran with nearly 35,000 other people. They all reached for something more. They let he sky be the limit. Did they find what they were looking for? Were they able to break away? Did they find life or did they run to their death? Are they still paying the price? My guess is that all of these runners are better off for their effort.

Oh, the price you pay, oh, the price you pay

Now you can't “run” away from the price you pay

No matter how many marathons there are, ultras of 50 miles, 100 miles, you can’t run away from the price you pay. Does it mean that you should stop? When you run, you sometimes know what you are running from but you never know what you are running to – who the person is when you get there. But, there is still a price to pay.

Now they'd come so far and they'd waited so long

Just to end up caught in a dream where everything goes wrong

Where the dark of night holds back the light of the day

And you've gotta stand and fight for the price you pay

As in the marathon, like life, you never know when it will go wrong. The clouds will darken and the light of day will shorten until it disappears like the miles behind. But everyone keeps moving forward and fights gallantly for the price you pay to get to the finish just to start again.

Oh, the price you pay, oh, the price you pay

Now you can't “run” away from the price you pay

Do you remember the story of the promised land

How he crossed the desert sands

And could not enter the chosen land

On the banks of the river he stayed

To face the price you pay

The Promised Land lies ahead of you with every step and every mile across the desert, along the coast, up and down the hills of life. The chosen land can be entered whenever you would like if you face the price you pay. You don’t have to stay on the banks of the river. Getting to the other side comes with a price. The Promised Land is waiting.

So let the “race” start, you better run you little wild heart

You can run through all the nights and all the days

But just across the county line, a stranger passing through put up a sign

That counts the men fallen away to the price you pay, and before the end of the day,

I'm gonna tear it down and throw it away

The starting line is where it begins, the journey to the far reaches of life, never stopping and always moving forward – running wild with heart. You will see others falter and fall away to the price you pay. Before it’s over, don’t let anyone bring you down with them. Run your own race, throw away the sign and finish life, find the joy and finish the distance with the price you pay.

Now some say forget the past, and some say don't look back
But for every breath you take well buddy you leave a track

Learn from the past, from the last mile ran or the last breath we just taken. The track is treacherous and not looking back makes looking forward a more difficult journey. The price you pay is by not looking backward. The price you pay is by not looking forward. The price you pay.

The Finish Line

A magic trick makes the world disappear

The skies are dark, they're dark but they're clear

A distant motorcade and suddenly there's joy

The cold and ticker tape blurs all my senses numb

It's like the finish line where everything just ends

I'm done with this, I'm counting to ten

Brightest lights, running to them

I feel like I am watching everything from space

And in a minute I'll hear my name and I'll wake

I think the finish line's a good place we could start

Modified from Snow Patrol's The Finish Line

“I’m the official timekeeper and you have 3 minutes and 49 seconds to get to the finish line.” I just turned the corner and could see the glaring lights off in the distance. After 49 ½ miles, it comes down to running ½ mile in 3 minutes and 49 seconds. The man in the truck who proclaims to be the timekeeper is on my right and my nephew doing his best to pace me for the last ½ mile is on my left. “Mike, you got it, c’mon man, you got it!” Have you ever tried running ½ mile in 3 minutes 49 seconds after going 49 ½ miles?

I came back to the 2008 JFK to seek revenge. Although I had finished the 2006 race with nearly an hour to spare, I posted a DNF in 2007 by not making the cutoff time at Taylor’s Landing being 6 minutes late to the 38.6 mile aid station. The JFK is generally more of a mental test than a physical one, at least for me. The Marathon of Madness on the C&O canal towpath appears to be never-ending with a slight gradient of climb of no more than 3% for the entire 26 mile segment. The 8 miles of roads at the end over a gently rolling terrain almost feels good if it were not for the previous 42 miles. The Appalachian Trail for the first 16 miles requires focus and is so varied that it appears to go by quickly.

The world disappeared on the canal, especially for us back-of-the-pack runners. It became dark and lonely but the mission was clear – to finish. After mile 42, the sky was dark, the surroundings dark, and the world dark but the magic trick was not complete. Disappearing was not an option although who would know? Runner Disappears at Mile 44 in JFK50! Of course, if I am going to run 44 miles, I am certainly going to get to the finish before disappearing. I also have a feeling that Shawn would have come looking for me.

“I’m the official timekeeper and you have 3 minutes and 49 seconds to get to the finish line.” I keep hearing this repeated in my mind. I saw the motorcade off in the distance with the bright, glaring lights leading me to the finish like a beam of “light” leading me to heaven. Even with sub-freezing temperatures, I could only feel the warmth of those waiting. I could only imagine a ticker tape awaiting me. I was numb to the pain running on a cushion of air. The countdown continues, “one minute and 50 seconds”. Nothing changes as the finish line appears to move further away with each step. The lights are brighter and voices louder, “one minute and 30 seconds”. I am still a quarter mile to the finish. I never slow but never think. I just run. I try. I give it my best. “One minute... 30 seconds!” I’m counting to ten, brightest lights, running to them, nobody moves. “10, 9, 8…” but I am 100 meters away and even a world-class sprinter may not be able to run those 100 meters in less than 10 seconds. “7, 6, 5, 4…” and it is evident that I will not make the finish line cutoff. I’m done with this. I feel like I am watching everything from space. “3, 2, 1… The JFK 50 is officially over, thanks for coming out and see you in 2009!” What? I still have 30 meters to run. Ten seconds later, I cross the finish line in an unofficial finishing time of 12 hours and 10 seconds. And in a minute I'll hear my name and I'll wake. Do I want to? I look back to a million places where I squandered 10 seconds or maybe I should have just tried harder throughout. Whatever the case, the lesson has been learned and isn’t that the essence of doing better in life, failing and learning from it but continuing to move forward? I think the finish line's a good place we could start!

Spirit of the Storm

There’s a spirit of a storm in my soul
A restlessness that I can’t seem to tame
Thunder and lightning follow everywhere I go
There’s a spirit of a storm in my soul.

I can't seem to write on here as consistently as I want. Sometimes I want to write but don't want others to read so I don't write. I keep it in my soul and between God and me. I have run two marathons since the last time I have written and now on the verge of my 3rd 50 mile run of the year. I am seeking revenge on the JFK which I did not finish last year. Not finishing has been like a spirit of a storm - just one of many in my soul. I can't tame the restlessness and need to get back out on the road and trail to feel alive, to experience the emotional and physical pain in hopes of taming the restless lion. Marathons help but ultras take me beyond my reasonable limits. I am at sea and the storm rages. A vessel out of control.

There’s a hurricane that’s raging through my blood
I can’t find a way to calm the sea
Maybe I’ll find someday the waters aren’t so rushed
Right now they’ve got the best of me
And oh, it’s been a long, long time
Since I had real peace of mind
So I’m just going to "run" right here
"On" this old "mountain trail" till this storm rolls by.

Running brings me peace of mind. The blood rushing through my body with each accelerated heartbeat is a category 5, yet is as calm as the morning of the first, unspoiled winter snow. How absurdly opposing! I would run the trail forever if it was enough time for the storm to roll by.

Oh, maybe it’s just the way I am
Maybe I won’t ever change
So I’m just going to "run" right here
"On" this old "canal" and just soak up the rain.

The run will be over and I will still be the same but changed for those brief 11 hours. I'll run right here, where I am, with the sun, wind, and cold with the rest of the named storms. Few people in their right minds would run 50 miles, let alone 100 miles. I am not in my right mind and it won't ever change.

There’s a spirit of a storm in my soul
Every time I think it’s gone away
Dark clouds gather, that old wind begins to blow
The sun’s going to shine someday I hope
There’s a spirit of a storm in my soul, in my soul.

I will wait for the sun to shine and for God to shed his light. The storm will still rage, never to be diminished for the run that could be or should have been. "It" is in my soul, in my soul.

A Prophet Said...

You shall go out in joy
And be led back in peace;
The mountains and the hills before you
Shall burst into song,
And all the trees of the field shall clap their hands.

These were the last words that I had read prior to running the 25K of the Turkey Swamp races. I had an awful summer of running but continued to persevere through the struggles of a hamstring issue, decrease in motivation, summer weather and generally just not feeling great. I did run a couple of races and felt like they went alright although my expectations were not great. I ran the Belmar 5 miler in about 39 minutes on a sun-drenched beach day at the shore. Prior to my family reunion, I ran a respectable sub-23 minute 5K in Hagerstown with my nephew Shawn and his friend Tony. Of course, the hamstring issue at the time reared its ugly head but I finished in good shape.

I posted a DNF at last year’s Turkey Swamp 50K, my first DNF, and I knew that I was in no shape to run the 50K or even the 20 miler this year. I even questioned running the 25K, on trails no less, where muscles are used differently and my hamstring might be more prone to injury. Vacation was the week prior in North Carolina and although I ran some, they were not great runs. I could have given up running very easily this summer – but I didn’t.

I got back late on Saturday the day before Turkey Swamp. Although not pre-registered, I was committed to getting up early Sunday morning and making the effort to run the 25K. It was a perfect August morning with low humidity and temperatures in the high 60’s – one condition right. Before I left I read the passage above in a book that I had been reading. It was so appropriate because that is the way I always viewed my running – except this past summer. It was a reminder as to why I do this – go out in joy and be led back in peace. Although I have experienced it the opposite way also – go out in peace and be led back in joy. Maybe life should be approached this way. Of course, this is the intent of these prophetic thoughts but it took faith in running the Turkey Swamp 25K with these words lingering in my mind to fully understand it. We need to find the joy and the peace in each day no matter how and what we traverse in life. We need to find the Dee Dah Day moments, however few and however small.

I had a great 25K experience and for that brief period from when I read those words to arriving at the park with all of the other runners, lining up for the start, running 6 - 2 ½ mile tree-lined, soft, sandy, pine-needled, root-laden trail loops in 2 hours 19 minutes I rediscovered the peace and joy of running – maybe even the peace and joy in life, however difficult at times it is to find.

For What It's Worth

For what its worth
A nickel’s just a nickel son
Your pleasure calms your pain
Its gonna hurt
You’re out on the road
You’re an old horse "runnin’" along
Shakin’ all the miles been "run"
Hard and mean
Through the valley of shadows
Wickedness unravels

It has been a struggle lately - the slowness, the pain - out on the road. It hurts but my pleasure calms my pain or with pleasure comes the pain. Either way, what I get from running outweighs the struggles. I'm now an old horse runnin' along! The good news is that I am still runnin'. I have run many miles over the years getting close to the circumference of the earth and my body still accepts the pain yet my mind is numb with pleasure. I have run through the valley of shadows, the wickedness of life unraveled. Running has also been there as a friend to me without judgement but not without humility. Bill Rodgers said, "the marathon can humble you." As a friend should be able to do as well, running can humble you. Sometimes you need kicked in the seat of the pants, reprimanded, beaten down, broken - stroked, encouraged. Running does this for me. Running is what defines me for better or worse. It makes me the person I am. Each of us are different. I deal with life through running.

With one touch
Water turns to rust
But tell me
Who is there to trust, anymore
You're fallen fast
You’re rock hittin’ glass
Runnin’ from your shattered past

In Running, you run to and from. It should be opposite of the way it is - running from finish to start instead of start to finish. The finish is is really the end of something but the beginning of a journey to a new start. The journey allows us to learn from the shattered past -fallin' fast - rock hittin' glass. The water is turning to rust so I need softened and conditioned. I need that one touch of God upon my shoulder to help me.

A nickel is just a nickel but for what it's worth, it still has value. Running is valuable to me. It keeps me alive.

If We Faint Not

And let us not be weary in well doing; for in due reason we shall reap, if we faint not. Galations 6:9

As long as we are trying our best and giving our all we will be rewarded as long as we don't give up. I didn't give up during the 26.2 mile jaunt in Providence. I knew it would not be my best run due to the slow long distance training for two 50 milers earlier in the year and a 50 miler just 4 weeks ago. Of course, this is what I tell myself. In essence, I need to drop two hands-full of pounds and do some more tempo and lactic threshold training to get the combination of speed and endurance back, if at all possible, now being 48. I will say that a truly run marathon is as close to perfection in running as it is possible. Obviously, speed and endurance are relative to our abilities but when we combine both, to the best of our abilities, where it takes our bodies and mind to our limits and slightly beyond, it is though we transcend ourselves. We leave our mind and bodies behind and let the soul find its spirit. This doesn't happen with every marathon. It is the beauty and challenge of the distance. But when perfection is attained, which I have only experienced a handful of times out of the 32 marathons I have run, we indeed reap.

Providence, for an inaugural marathon, was decent but a little rough around the edges. The course was challenging with its hilly (rolling) terrain, although fair. I didn't faint and felt like I didn't give up. Although not great, I finished in the best time that I could on this day and I really couldn't ask for more. I strive to find my soul and I get closest to it when running - right or wrong.

Morning Glory

After my rant last night I suspect this entry will be a bit more calm. I just got back from a sight-seeing tour of Providence - well sort of. My tour consisted of about a 3.5 mile easy warm-up run prior to tomorrow. Not only does a run like this get your body a bit more in tune for the 26.2 miles tomorrow, but more importantly, it allows some of the extremely negative thoughts bleed from your mind. A run always seems to do that. Many mornings I wake to "what's the use..." but a run always brings me back to life. Without disappointment, it did today. I first ran up to the Rhode Island state capitol. I am usually fascinated by the architecture of such buildings certainly more than what actually occurs inside (see last night's entry.) The buildings look as though they are sculpted, carved or whittled and they are generally old. After running around the state capitol, I followed Dorrance Ave. down through Providence to where the finish of the marathon will be tomorrow - quaint streets and buildings surround the finish along with some streets made of brick. The Providence River runs through the city so I made my way over to the river. I love a series of bridges that cross a river running through a city. There is something calming about them and the water they cross. So off I go over one of the bridges to main street and low and behold found a running store called Rhode Runner - excellent! After taking a picture of the "Old Stone Bank" I finish my loop with a cup of Joe and maple scone from Starbucks. It should be an interesting run tomorrow as the course appears to be a bit hilly or rolling depending on how you look at it. Now the rain appears to be a factor too but I can't argue with what God provides. I just know that a bad day of running is still better than a good day at work.

Why...

(this entry is nothing like my others but some days, you just have to go off!) ...is running 26 or 50 miles so much easier than the effort required yet not recognized in the corporate world? Is it maybe because YOU appreciate the effort that YOU put into training to get YOU to the finish where no one in the corporate world appreciates or notices anything that you do? Why is it that the person who doesn't threaten to quit but works wholeheartedly for the organization in humility is left behind? Someday the lack of respect for the employees in a company will bring a company down and I hope that it is a hard lesson to learn. OK, enough on the corporate rant. I am in Povidence Rhode Island (why is it an island?) waiting to run the Providence Marathon on Sunday. It is my first marathon since December and in some ways looking forward to it although I am more trained for 50 milers (i.e. slow longer distance.) I do know the physcal and mental pain of a marathon or 50 miles is still nothing compared to the strife of corporate america. Of course, I still need some way to give Exon-Mobile their 10 billion dollars in profit and provide the funding for war in the era of bushonomics. Maybe it should be called waronomics or oilonomics. Oil, Mr. Bush and our illustrious members of congress is the battleground of terror. While Hillary and Barack call each other names and fight with golden gloves with mouths that need to be washed out with soap, Mr. McCain sits back in his lazy-boy and watches the blood-bath. They are all the same. There are not two parties. There is one - the Political Party that continues to rip apart the core of America. What does this have to do with anything? Nothing, just a rant that started at 6:15 this morning when I realized that 3 1/2 years of coporate giving has been returned by a corporate shafting. Why is this on a running blog? Because I only have running blogs and I am sitting here pondering the "why run" question again. Why run? Because it is easy and simple and hard all at the same time and you get out of it what you put into it - not true in the coporate world!

End is Here

Endless days
We search for one we hold inside
So hard to find
Luck turns
Will the fallen ever reach within
And rise again
For the rest of my life
I will find the answers
That were always here
I will find the meaning this time
I will fight the end
Till the end is here

AlterBridge

Sunday I will be back on the marathon trek which will take me to Providence, RI for their innaugural Cox Sports Marathon. Rhode island will be my 21st state and 32nd marathon after a winter of two 50 milers. Many of us runners run to search for the one we hold inside. Each run, no matter the distance, but specifically longer runs where we have the time to ponder, look for answers with the right questions take us on a journey of self-discovery. Each run helps us fight to the end till the end is here. It gives us time with our personal Jesus always searching for the meaning hoping to always rise from our brokeness. The run is no longer about time. It is about destiny.