Happy Thanksgiving!

I am thankful for...
my wife
my kids
my health
my friends
my family
my health
my house
my clothes
my food
my freedom
my running
my job
my boss
my dog
my shoes
my car
my life
my life
my life
my life

Running the Boston Marathon

Do you know what "life-affirming" means? Have you ever really looked it up in the dictionary to  crystallize the definition in your head? It is a phrase that keeps coming up in my mind as I try to put into words what the 2014 Boston Marathon was to me.

The Oxford Dictionary states:

Definition of life-affirming in English:

adjective

Having an emotionally or spiritually uplifting effect: meeting these people was a life-affirming experience

Stated in common parlance, Yahoo Answers has this as the number one response to the question, "what does life-affirming mean?"

Bezi_Cat states: It sort of revitalizes you. Life-affirming means that it gives you a new faith in life. It reminds you that life is good and that everything will be fine. 

All of these answers might lead you to believe I think life is being devalued or our many trips around the sun are worth little. On the contrary, I consider myself an optimist but when I dig into what being an optimist means to me, the boundaries of my optimism typically range only to my immediate family and surroundings. When you start to ask me of my optimism for the greater public or world at large that is where my positive outlook weakens and the doubting begins. The Boston Marathon was a rock from the back of truck that put a crack in my carefully constructed window view of the world. 

I have a mentor and I suggest you get one as well. She is my manager at work and in a friend in my life. She provides solicited and unsolicited advice to me about my career, running, and life. It's important you set a few ground rules with your mentor or at least come to a shared understanding of how this relationship is going to work. Rule number one, don't be a sensitive cry baby. Your mentor has to have the freedom to give you constructive criticism. They can't just be a dick to you, but tough love is something you should be grateful for. The advice is uncompromising because they value you and one way or another what they are telling you is going to be exposed sooner or later. Respect the fact they have the guts to tell you something somewhat uncomfortable in an effort for you to remedy that situation. Rather than have someone else burn you or hold you back due to this characteristic or action your mentor is trying to help fix. My mentor provides another perspective or frame with which she views an event and knows how to relate her view to me. 

In 2012, I did not finish the Boston Marathon. I made it to somewhere around mile 17 or 18. In hindsight I'm not 100% sure anymore. All I know is that at one point in the race this year, I passed that medical tent where a nurse saved my life and said a quick prayer of thanks and cried a few tears. They weren't the only tears I shed during the race. It was unseasonably hot during the 2012 Boston Marathon and I opted not to adjust my strategy and suffered the consequences. It was briefly devastating to both my confidence and health. After that beat down, I needed to be built back up. My mentor was there for me then and provided the perspective that helped me to get back out there again.

In the months and weeks leading up to the race, Shannon, that's her name, kept hammering on me to enjoy the race, take it all in, live the experience, be in the now. Be in the now? What the hell does that mean? It means slow down, look around, appreciate the people cheering, the volunteers helping, the police, your friends, your family, the hours and time you put in to get to the start line. Think about how much more there is to Boston then all the races I have ran before. 

What makes my relationship with my mentor even more enjoyable is we are very different in some ways. She loves big races, Chicago, Vegas, Phoenix, Kansas City. Races where you are around a lot people and the camaraderie of your fellow runners. I like small races in small towns with few runners. To me BIG races are where people run because that's cool. Small races are where people run because they have to. Humanity is full display in the big runs and maybe it's the fact that I don't want my fragile faith in humanity to be troubled so I stay away from those. Or I'm cheap. 

I went into this race with two main goals. Stay with my best friend Nick as long as possible and finish. One time, in a 50K, I had a pacer for the final ten miles but I've never ran a marathon with anyone before. Nick is fast, like 1:22 in a half marathon fast. He was queued up for a personal best and his first sub three hour marathon. In hindsight, I should have been more willing to really share my experience from last time and the words of wisdom that had been shared to me about this race. Like slow down and enjoy this, it may never happen again.

Boston is a hard run. It's point to point. You start in Hopkinton and run right into downtown Boston. It feels like a straight shot and it pretty much is. It's a pretty intense downhill start and remains somewhat downhill or rolling hills until mile fourteen. This can be very taxing on the quads and the anticipation of running combined with being surrounded and I mean surrounded by fast runners makes it hard to hold back and not go out too fast. If you have ever played Mike Tyson's Punch Out on the old school, original Nintendo you have an stamina bar across the top of the screen. Your energy goes down the more times you are hit and the more punches you throw. Your energy goes back up but very slowly and only as long as you aren't hit, but can go up dramatically if you can make it to the next round. Boston is like fighting Soda Popinski. He can be defeated if you stick to your plan and keep your stamina high. If you go out to fast and try to do all your damage at once, then in the last rounds you will have nothing left and here comes the knock out. 

The hardest section of the marathon starts at mile sixteen. It's called the Newton Hills. A series of four hills that culminate with "Heartbreak Hill". The first hill was the hardest for me. After running downhill or flatish roads your legs aren't exactly thrilled when you motor into the first long incline. It's difficult to gauge how hard to go. Have you banked some time in the first half so you can ease off a bit? Are you feeling strong and want to keep the same pace up the hills? Are you feeling really strong and want to attack the hills and recover on the back side? If you are hesitating to answer these questions trouble is coming. Having an A, B, and C plan makes situations like these less mentally fatiguing and more intuitive. Mental stress can be just as crippling to a runner as cramps. From mile sixteen to twenty one you hit these four hills and runners are hitting the wall all around you. Once over Heartbreak it's another downhill screamer to mile twenty four and then pretty flat. Unless of course you take into account the little overpass you go under and then up at the "1K To Go" sign. Just steep enough to flush out whatever gas you had left to burn for a sprint to the finish. 

Cumulatively, the downhill start, mileage of the hill section, the constant maneuvering through traffic during the entirety of the race, and mental challenges of pre-race logistics make this an extremely challenging test, especially if it's your first time and you are trying to PR. Fortunately for me, this was my second time running and my goal was to finish.

The PBS Documentary called Pioneers of Television - Acting Funny recently aired and Tina Fey was one of the comedians interviewed. In it she talks about preparation and being in a state of "relaxed readiness". You do a ton of preparation and spend a ton of time getting ready so that when you are performing and something unexpected or new happens you are ready to react and incorporate that into whatever you are doing. It resonated with me completely. Going into the Boston Marathon I was in a state of relaxed readiness. Eighteen weeks of training is a farce. I had been training to finish Boston for two years. Your best time could happen with only eighteen weeks of training, on a base of nothing, but that seems unrealistic to me. It took me almost six years of running every week to start to see and feel that relaxed readiness that I felt going into Boston and numerous other races I have ran in the past twelve months. 

Boston does everything in it's power to get you out of your routine. Most runners I know are creatures of habit and most fast runners I know are pretty meticulous in their race weekend routines. Boston is on a Monday so you have to adjust your last few weeks of long runs to account for the extra day. The race starts at 10:00am unlike most 7 or 8am start times. You load a bus in downtown around 6am to take a nearly one hour ride out to Athlete's Village in Hopkinton, meaning in our case we were up at 4:45am to get in the car to ride down to the bus. You get out to the staging area and have roughly three hours to kill before go time. It was cold and one of the biggest changes was that you weren't allowed a drop bag due to security. Previously, you took your phone, food, clothes, etc., and put them in a bag with your bib number and they drove them back to the finishing area. With the changes, that meant everything your brought out to the start had to be either taken off and donated to charity or carried with you as you ran. If you wondered what a zombie slash homeless slash refugee camp for extremely fit people looks like this was the place to be. Sunken faces wearing old clothes carrying foil wraps or old blankets were scattered around all over the place. Real estate was at a premium but Nick and I managed to get a little area where you would have thought we were having some odd picnic. We had comforters and blankets that La Quinta was kind enough to give us and made a little padded bed. Our morning prep was considerably better than most of the runners out there. 

You have to eat and continue to hydrate sometime during the morning and again I can't stress enough that these times for consumption are normally regulated by runners. The hydration part is really accomplished during the week before but the race day nutrition part is day before and day of typically. Of course diet is important all the time but the fuel you are burning is normally in that 24 hour window. I am usually up only two hours at the most before the race starts. I pound a few glasses of water as soon as I wake up and then eat a banana, bagel or banana bread and a bagel an hour before race time. I ate the first bagel on the bus out about four hours before and then had a second bagel and banana about an hour and a half before. The rest of the time in the Athlete's Village I spent trying to rest or almost sleep on our comforters for two. At this point I knew I was in good shape because I was nearly fell asleep. The nervousness was practically gone. The anticipation leading to stress was gone and now I have a name for that feeling. Relaxed readiness. 

About an hour before the start time you are called up to your corral. Boston has four waves of start times and nine corrals in each wave. Roughly one thousand runners per corral and you are packed in like cattle. It is about three quarters of a mile from the village to the start. Nick and I were both in wave one but different corrals. You are allowed to go back into other corrals but not up. Since the goal was to run this thing together we had already decided we would go in the same corral. As we walked down the road people are already cheering for you. Loudly. All you are doing is just walking to the start and people are already building you up. Five or so high school boys started high-fiving me when they saw my long hair and headband. I chose to wear my "Coach Ben" headband given to me by my youth soccer team in a way to thank them for loving me. Nick got a big kick out of how crazy these kids were going for us. I stopped at the same driveway I did in 2012 where a family has all kinds of supplies laid out for free. Sunscreen, Vaseline (for preventing chaffing), energy gels, water, and most importantly a giant book where you can sign your name. I am now in there twice. At the bottom of the hill you take a right and then you have to commit to your corral or face having to go through security again if you get out. It really wasn't that big of deal to get back in you just had limited points of reentry to the starting area but it looked rather seamless. I say looked because once I got in the corral I stayed. 

Another routine killer is trying to find a place to stretch and warm up. My plan calls for me to get in a twenty minute light jog and dynamic stretches prior to the race. I used the fifteen minute walk down to the starting area to jog and stretch a bit. Before I entered the corral I did some static stretching, said some prayers of thanks. Nick had to use the bathroom one more time so I waited for him to come back before wading into the sea of runners. Once in the corral you have about ten or fifteen minutes to bounce around and think about the race. When the huge helicopters did a fly over we knew the race would start soon. I looked at my pace band which read, "Good Day For Fast." The gun went off at 10:00am and it was a little after 10:05am when Nick and I went across the starting line to start this phase of our experience. 

He was using a Garmin watch to track our mile splits and I was using an old fashioned Timex watch and pace band. We had a good idea of what we wanted our splits to be and we managed to hold back a bit, get passed a lot, and ease into the race. At this stage you are trying to avoid falling, not go to fast, stay in a relatively comfortable spot on the street, and try not to zig-zag all over the place. My plan was to get water at every other aid station. Considering the crush of athletes all over the place, Boston has Gatorade and water every two miles. The also have them staggered on both sides of the road. My decision was to use the ones on the left. It was going to be a decently warm day by the mid point, with temps rising to the mid to lower seventies and I took two waters at the stations I hit. One to drink half of and one to pour on my head. I also had Gu Energy Gels to consume at miles five, ten, fifteen, and twenty. I ate one thirty minutes before the start and, as mentioned earlier, I had also taken a S-Cap (sodium and potassium supplement) and took one at mile thirteen. 

Around mile three to four we started into the meat of our race pace goals. We needed to run somewhere around a 6:47 minute per mile average to meet Nick's goal of subbing three hours. As we started to hit those times I was honestly questioning if I was going to be able to maintain it. I did not communicate those thoughts to Nick but rather continued either right next to him or right behind him. In retrospect, that might not have been fair to Nick. I had told him I was going to just let him lead because honestly I didn't want the responsibility of setting the pace because I was afraid I might let him down. The last thing I wanted was to feel guilty that I caused him to not achieve his goal. While we never communicated this to each other we both knew that if one of us was having a good day and one of us wasn't we weren't going to allow our performance to affect the other one. We almost never talked during the race except for Nick to mention our splits. If one of us was going to go then so be it. We did attempt to chat about where our families were going to be on the course. My impression was that we would see them at mile seven but Nick told me they should be around mile ten in Framingham. This was an unexpected blessing. I was still questioning my pace but this forced me to concentrate on the crowds for the next three miles. Forgetting about the race or my legs was good for me and thinking about what side of the road they were going to be on was really my focus. Funny how we allow ourselves to really question some random things while running. My head kept saying, "how are we going to know where they are? What if we are on the left side of the road but they are on the right? Will we be able to merge across the road in time for some encouragement?" We stuck to the left side of the road and around mile ten I heard a yell, "I SEE THEM or HERE THEY COME!" My wonderful wife had taken control of our supporters and said she would be the look out, they would be the picture takers. The girls would be ready with hands out for high-fives and slapping. Later she said she was looking for the head band and that's how she saw us. I always say you have to look good to feel good but with mane of hair I was rocking I needed to keep that in check while keeping the sweat out of my eyes. The jolt of energy from seeing my family, hearing their cheers, and high-fiving my kids was what I needed.

Around mile eleven I started to feel I was getting stronger. The pace which had felt fast early on was becoming more comfortable. The urge to speed it up was there but I kept my plan in the front of my mind. Make it to the hills in good shape and be ready to deal with them. We hit the half right around 1:29:05 which put us right around where we needed to be. My confidence was building. To this point whenever one of us hit an aid station the other one kept the pace in the middle of the road and we would merge back together. This unspoken plan was working and it kept us both hydrated and together. It was somewhere between miles fifteen and eighteen that we started to split. I can't pinpoint where because I went to get water and came back in the middle I assumed he was getting water and would be on my side any minute. I don't look back when I run and I'm a front runner. My whole life, from track as a kid to adulthood, personally looking back means you are worried or aren't in control. Looking over your shoulder gives the person behind you confidence that you are concerned they are catching you. Plus, with this many people running you almost have to keep looking forward. The hills start around mile sixteen and my legs were good. My pace stayed unchanged around 6:49 mile per minute through all the hills. That is not something I was anticipating but they felt good and around mile twenty two I was planning on looking to see how close I was to my pace band goal. By mile eighteen I had a gap of about twenty three seconds on Nick. That is information I only knew in hindsight. At this point I was aware he wasn't on my shoulder but we had decided we weren't going to hold each other back. 

At this point I was passing a lot of people. It was a doubling encouraging. Seeing people hit the wall, start to walk, stop, sit on the side of the road, defeated. Harsh? Not really. You never know what you can do unless you fail. If you never cross that line you never know what you are truly capable of. My opinion on Heartbreak Hill is people are very, very close to their goal pace and overall time around mile twenty one. They can't really afford to slow down too much or else you won't be able to make that time back in the last few miles. If the slow down comes on an uphill or worse you have to walk or start to cramp this defeats you. Runners hang there heads, they realize the goal is lost. It's tremendously discouraging because it's hard to find the motivation to really push the last miles if you know your goal is already out the window. Seeing the giant heart drawn on to the top of the road and the banner saying you have finished Heartbreak were the only indications I even knew I just ran it. That makes you feel strong.

I had singled out mile twenty two as my key signpost for a couple of reasons. It's mostly downhill and flat from this point on and four miles carries a significance from my soccer playing days. At my high school, if you wanted to play soccer you had to run four miles in under thirty minutes. You didn't have to make the thirty minute cutoff to make the team but it was certainly a factor. If you didn't make it on your first attempt you had to keep doing it every week until you did. This was probably the most formative athletic standard in my life. I have no idea where our coach got this from or why we did it but to this day I somewhat judge my level of fitness on my ability run four miles in thirty minutes.With 4.1 miles remaining I had about twenty eight minutes to hit my time. It was going to be close. The strength coursing through my legs in the middle miles was rapidly waning. I measure my pace by footfalls or steps per minute mainly by sound and feel and I could tell I was begeinning to fade. The noise through these sections is tremendous. The wall of sound is constant. People screaming and encouraging you at every step. 

Unlike in 2012, I did not write my name all over my legs but only in one spot on my right calf. I remember walking down the middle of the road around mile sixteen feeling as if a vice was being turned with every breath on my chest and people were yelling, "Ben! You can do it! Keep going!" My internal monologue was chastising me. "Why did you write your name on your legs? Won't these people please shut up? Stupid, stupid, stupid." This year I took the more humble, less look at me approach.  

At mile marker twenty four my time was really close to my goal and I managed to run another 6:50 mile and I gave myself a chance to sub three. I would be lying if I didn't think around mile twenty that I was going to sub three easily but the truth is the hills took quite a bit out of me and when I mentally asked my legs to give me some more they wouldn't do it. I couldn't do it. I don't remember much about the last two miles other than I saw the giant Citgo sign and it was so loud. People were ten to fifteen deep on the roads. Reality set it around the twenty five mile marker when I realized I had made a mistake. I had to run another 6:50 in the final mile but there is another .1 left. That damn .1. The mistake sunk in when I passed the "One Mile To Go" sign. "CRAP!" Right then I knew 2:59:59 was not going to happen today and a feeling of warmth and happiness spread all through my body. It was not the feeling I was expecting. There was one last little down and up when you see the 1K to Go sign on an overpass. You run down a hill and up the other side. It was just enough on this day to officially squash any lingering thoughts that I might sprint in. I'm glad it did. With two minutes to sub three my decision was made to cruise it in not sprint it in. Was ten seconds going to matter much at this point? Nope. Great choice. 

Slowing down as I ran past the first spot one of the bombs went off and seeing throngs of people standing right there...resilience. Looking around me at all faces of both runners and spectators, all the different colors of people, flags of all the countries, kids, babies, old, young, men, women, all together to celebrate life, the human spirit, the city of Boston. For all the people tracking me at home, friends, family, co-workers, people I barely knew I was running for them too. I was finishing for them too, I was representing them too. 

3:00:35 was my official time. The second best marathon time in my life. Normally, I probably would have analyzed where I could have gotten thirty six seconds back. Festered on it and not allowed the sheer joy of finishing what I had started many years before. Not this time. The feeling in my body and spirit was a celebration of life. I'm surrounded by people who love and care about me in a city that can not be defeated and is proclaiming to everyone, "we are strong!" In a global community that believes the power of the human condition radiates love, strength and togetherness. 

Life affirming. From the first day in Boston when a woman stopped me on the corner to ask if I was running and gave me a hand knitted scarf. Her church had put out a call to get three hundred scarves to hand out as a symbol of togetherness. They got seven thousand. Life affirming. To the gentleman in line to pick up our race bibs who talked about living in Kansas City as well but growing up in Boston. Looking for the similarities rather than the differences. Life affirming. To the support from my employer, Perceptive Software, who allows me to run at lunch everyday so I can pursue what I love and have balance in my soul. Life affirming. To my family and friends who traveled halfway across the country to cheer me on and celebrate. Life affirming. To my mentor, Shannon, who I know was sitting at her desk with a smile on her face. Life affirming. And to my best friend, Nick, who reached out his hand and saved my life in 1999. There is no one in this world I would rather run a race with and can't believe I am living here today. I will cherish these memories everyday of my life.

 

Last Run Before Boston - Merrimack River Trail

This was the view from my last training run before the Boston Marathon. Having never been in Andover, Massachusetts I hit up Google Maps to figure out the path for my last four miler before marathon day. As I mentally plotted out my route I noticed that the Andover Trail was only about a mile or so away and ran along the bank of the Merrimack River. Actually, I didn't notice the river but the trail was intriguing so I memorized the road names and turns I would take to get to the trail and off I went.

I'm not sure about luck. We put together enough "next right things" and good fortune seems to head our way. Have you ever felt at peace or had a real calmness envelop you? As I came upon the Merrimack River Trail sign the serenity grabbed me. As I ran swiftly over the pine needled path some emotion leaked out of my eyes so I stopped and enjoyed it. I took pictures of my surroundings, the trail, the trees, the river. I believed right then that the Boston Marathon was going to be a success regardless of time.

Neither hurrying or lagging, I took a short video of thanks when I made it back to the trail head and I took this picture. Running alone in the woods is the closest thing to heaven on earth. 

One More Week Until the Boston Marathon

The hay is in the barn.

The first time I heard that phrase was getting ready for the District Wrestling Championships in 1994. Not being to agriculturally minded, it didn't penetrate my hard yet what exactly my coach meant.

"You've worked your butt off, done all you can, now just go out there and wrestle."

That made more sense.

Good miles, not just mileage are what make up the hay for marathoners. Years ago, as a newbie, to me all miles were miles and it didn't matter too much how I ran them as long as I ran them. Then I had a friend suggest running more miles and different types of runs. That worked to make me fast but now necessarily happier. Rather serendipitously, a coworker suggested I try running less miles and make every single mile count. Quality over quantity in a very targeted, specific way.

For the last 18 weeks I have been doing just that. Have I done exactly what the plan says for each and every day? Nope. Pretty sure I even missed one or two workouts but I never let that get me down. The Run Smart Project by Coach Jack Daniels is what has trained me to my fastest marathon time and more important than that, my most enjoyable 18 weeks of training ever. I would recommend this plan to anyone. Please see the plan below and remember that this was specifically designed based on previous race times.

In one week and twelve hours I will be towing the line in Hopkinton.

 

The Best U6 Soccer Game Ever

Last weekend was a marathon in soccer coaching. Six games in two days may not seem like a lot but when you are the person responsible for motivating, coaching, correcting, disciplining, encouraging, and loving all these kids it can wear you down. Stress is another energy sucker. The closer the games the tighter and more squeezed I become inside. I was abundantly positive this weekend, trying hard to build up and praise rather than focus on mistakes. It worked but it forces me to swallow the stress and internalize it. Unfortunately for you, this is where I let it back out.

On Saturday my little's each had a game. Both of those teams are in the Youth Development League. One of them probably shouldn't be but they are really starting to hold their own. My Little Pink's would have tied on Saturday had then not scored on themselves twice and my Little Yellow's beat an undefeated team that day and set themselves up for a battle for league supremacy on Sunday. My Big's won both their weekend games, too close for comfort but a win is a win and they were pumped.

That brings us to the Little Yellow's U6 YDL game on Sunday. Three things everyone should know about coaches. We have great ears, meaning we hear everything, two we always know what the stakes are, and three we all copy each other. The first two were on display on Sunday. I have a rule that the first girls at the field warming up are most likely going to get to start. Interestingly enough, the three that I would want to start were there first but they were talking about how tough this other team was and that we were probably going to lose. This type of talk infuriates me. If that is the mindset going in then you have already lost. I relate this to wrestling because you see it all the time in individual sports. If you don't believe you can win then you are going to lose nine times out of ten. I have no empirical evidence other than listening and seeing body language that tells both the coach and the opponent what's going to happen.

I immediately nipped that talk in the bud. "Why would you think that? Have we played them before? Have we lost a game this year? What makes them so good." I fired these questions at my girls. They stammered and tried to explain they have a new girl who is really good. I was exasperated, "we are really good! Don't you know how good we are?"

This is a fine line. My oldest daughter is very talented but I find when I tell her she is great or praise her too much she takes it for granted and does not work as hard. I have been trying not to praise too much while still encouraging and teaching what needs to be done to get better.

Knowing the stakes came from hearing the other coach tell his girls that if they win they are in first place. I knew this as well and use it for motivation but I have been instilling in the girls this season is that we aren't going to lose a single game, and if you don't lose any games you will always be the best.  

The girls warmed up and were ready to play. They all got to start in their favorite spots so the vibe was good. We play four twelve minute quarters and at the end of the first quarter it was 4-1 us. When they came off the field I asked them, "Do you think we can beat them now?" It was easy to see the buy in at that point. Tactically, at the start of the second quarter is where I made a mistake. I have a girl on this team who could hold her own at the U8 level, not physically but technically. She was begging to play defender. I acquiesced and she proceeded to let two goals go in, in about three minutes. She was looking at me nearly in tears and yelled, "I don't want to play defense." I yelled back, "You said you wanted to play now play hard."

We went into the half winning 6-4. It easily could have been 6-2 but it's U6 soccer and anything can happen. The third quarter was an up and down affair, we scored two more but they scored two as well. It was 8-6 going into the fourth quarter and the tide turned. All of a sudden, they scored three more to take the lead and the girls were shocked. At this point, the parents, grandparents, and families were into the game big time. We scored one to tie it up and then with about three minutes left scored another. We were now back in front 10-9. Tactically, we were set up well. I had my best defender in goal and we needed it. She made at least four great plays to break up scoring chances and when the final whistle blew I was whipped. The constant up and down action, the passing, defensive stands, great shots, it had everything. It's hard to remember they are five and six years old.

As the girls shook hands and the other coach and I went to sign the score card we both just laughed and said that was the best U6 game we have ever been a part of. The referee said it was the best game he ever reffed and I just shook my head. Relief was what I was feeling more than elation. We were the better team and losing when you are better is a bitter pill to swallow. 

I walked to my car and shared some kinds words with the other coach. It was a great game to be a part of on both sides. He knows that my team is better and the fact that they almost won is a testament to the good coaching he does and the no quit attitude of his team. We play them one more time this season and I can't wait.

Why I Quit Fitbit and Fitocracy

Writing equals catharsis. Venting is a synonym of my reasoning for putting this post down today. I can't take being tracked anymore. A long time ago, I was sitting in the Coyote Grill in the now vanished, Mission Mall. At the bar enjoying a nice meal and possibly too many beverages when a middle aged woman asked me a question. She claimed to be working on her thesis about what it means to be American. This had to be around 2002, after the September 11th attacks. It took me about three seconds to answer, "the ability to be left alone" was my response. I'm so clever I thought.  She acted as if some secret code had been broken to her enlightenment, I think she just wanted a threesome but I digress. At least once a month for the next twelve years, I have thought about my answer and it's getting more and more pertinent everyday.

I won a Fitbit Force at work for signing up for the Live Well program offered by one of our healthcare providers. The program itself is excellent and requires minimal effort to reap rewards. Having taken the plunge into the world of high deductible "preferred" care plans with a Health Savings Account the responsibility is mine to make sure I take care of myself and in doing so earn financial benefits for my family. Putting the onus on the consumer to better own and control their healthcare decisions is not something I take lightly but either is my health. Which leads me back to my fitness tracking breaking point.

This fancy little devise allows you to track all sort of things, steps, calories, miles, floors, active minutes, and even your soundness of sleep. The functionality is provided to set a myriad of goals, track them all via your smartphone and website. The website enables joining groups, taking challenges, and competing with other for the elusive top ranking. Winning is a priority of mine and competition is a driver in my life. It's also a forty-five pound plate on my back that is hard to shrug off. Having an addictive personality traits it's easy for me to sucked into wanting to check my stats, wonder where I am on the leaderboard, and put in a few more miles to make sure I'm near the top. These behaviors keep me in shape physically but not necessarily mentally.

Fitocracy is a social fitness website and app designed to harness the power of social gaming, our virtual sharing, status updates, challenges and gamification of fitness to turn us from weekend warriors into Ironmen. Actually, it's really just taking the medium of social networking and attempting to derive the benefits from fitness by fusing this activities. It's probably working; I have no numbers and remember this blog is all about me here people. For over a year, maybe even two, I religiously entered my daily workout, tracking miles, sets, reps, even things like yard work to get as many points as possible. Entering weekly and monthly challenges to pit my mileage against others in hopes of being in the top three or ten. The reward for all this logging was self satisfaction and smugness. There was no one in any of the groups I joined that I knew personally or had any type of reality based relationship with. It was solely competition for the soulless.

I stopped logging activities in the middle of January on Fitocracy. My brain no longer has the capacity to care about what people in the ether care about my fitness. Yesterday, after two weeks with my Fitbit strapped to my wrist, I gave it to my wife and am already feeling better for it.

I don't own a Garmin or GPS type running watch, I rarely wear a watch why I'm running. I like to use Runmeter because it sends out emails to my wife when I start and end my runs so she can make sure I'm not dead or lost. I do my best when no one is watching but the pressure is high and the need to perform comes from within. When my head is buried in my phone, staring at a watch, logging stats in a computer I lose that personal touch. Facebook and Twitter seem to keep me engaged and a big part of that is the people I am engaged with. My family, friends, co-workers, the common thread here is people who know me.

I'm a hypocrite who likes to be tracked when it makes me feel and involves little or not effort on my part. The internet of things and the idea that everything will be connected and networked and smart, possibly is pushing me into old man territory. At Dreamforce this year Marc Benioff, the non-software evangelist, gave a keynote in between strange role plays and Huey Lewis and the News. One of the things he mentioned was a wifi, GPS enabled toothbrush. It would track your brushing metrics and change the relationship between the dentist and patient. Rather than asking, "have you been brushing" he would ask for you to login to the Oral B High Tech Teeth Performance Lab (I'm making that name up) and it would sync your stats and fundamentally change this relationship. Really? Does having the ability to monitor, track, and provide feedback via technology fundamentally change the relationship I have with my dentist? Maybe it does and maybe I'm am setting myself up to be steamrolled by the total connectedness of life. Who knows what will happen but when I deleted my accounts the sense of relief I felt was powerful, maybe that because it helps me feel left alone.

Coaching Youth Soccer - Expectations versus Reality

It was a mixed weekend for the KC Kicks. It's been awhile since I posted on the adventures in youth coaching but I need some relief and writing provides it. I'm up to three teams now. My original KC Kicks are playing U8 YDL (Youth Development League) and are progressing but never as fast as I would like. We took second place in the Fall, fourth in indoor over the Winter, and should come close to winning the league this Spring but we are off to an auspicious start.

The Pink Kicks are one of my two U6 YDL Girl's Teams. This is the one where my youngest plays and lives it up. She had one of my favorite goals runs ever this weekend. She scored her second goal of the game and proceeded to fall over and basically make a snow angel in the grass. She is a riot. Seriously, has no shame and loves her life. This team is a bit physically challenged in this age group. Only my daughter and possibly one other are the correct age but the other girls are playing up because they all are in the same class. Quite of few of them could be U5 and having a lot more success but they are all smiling and having fun and that's the point. We lost the game on Saturday 10-3 and one of my girls was convinced we tied them. I wasn't about to let them think otherwise.

The Yellow Kicks are my other U6 YDL Team. These girls are impressive. We won our second game of the season this weekend 12-1. We had over six assists. If you are not familiar with the one on one still of 3v3 soccer you don't get assists very often. These girls play as a team and are really, really good. People ask why I don't have my daughter on this team and all I can do is laugh. Are we already at the point with Kindergarteners, that I would take my kid away from her friends and put her with other girls simply to get victories? I hope not. Next, Fall we are combining the U6 Girls anyway so they will be one team soon enough.

Finally, I want to share this little tidbit regarding game time changes. I changed my U8's formations the day of the game and it lead to utter confusion. I recommend only making changes you have practiced. Secondly, you can't lose first place in the first game. We tied the opening game against a team we crushed in the Fall. I was beyond disappointed but it was mainly my fault. The opportunity to redeem myself coaching wise will be up quick with two games this weekend.

I'm praying it doesn't rain.

Fortunate Versus Blessed

I am fortunate enough to have two jobs. I'm going on seven years at Perceptive Software and seven years at the Kansas City Power and Light Entertainment District. I'm a Project Manager at one and a Bartender at the other.

This past week I worked a full week at Perceptive (took a half day on Friday) and worked Thursday night, Friday and night, Saturday and night, and today, St. Patrick's Day. It's not easy all the time and I get tired like anyone else which makes me a bit grouchy and can lapse into a pity party if I'm not careful. What I mean by careful is I have to make sure I remember how fortunate I am to have the ability to work two jobs. There are a ton, A TON, of people who are struggling right now to make ends meet while I have the opportunity to save money.

I use the term fortunate because if I say blessed it sounds like I'm implying that some sort of divine intervention is looking out for me. I believe in God and think he/she works in my life everyday. I just don't believe that God chooses sides. When we keep doing the right thing, ask God to help us make those right decisions, ponder what God's will is for us, then unforeseen good things happen to us.

I never really wonder why things happen. I try to live more in the present. Trying to change the past or control how everything is going to work causes me to miss what is going on right now. I don't have enough time to worry about those things and when I concentrate and ask God to help me focus on today, I seem to have more positives in my life than negatives.

So the next time you are about to say, "I'm so blessed" think about saying, "I'm fortunate to have these things in my life."

Words matter.

My Dreams Come True Everyday

A couple of days ago, I got home from work and went in the backyard to see what the girls were up to. My wife and I are fortunate that as soon as they get home from school, if it's at all possible to go outside, that's where they will be. My youngest was twisting herself up on one of the swings but my oldest was not in the treehouse. To my surprise, she was in one of the trees near the house just chillin', reading a book. A couple of things stand out to me here. First, she isn't much of an independent reader but is a good listener and attempts to practice things when we ask her. What she does have a passion for is climbing things, anything really. Hey, if she wants to climb a tree to get her reading done then climb away. Oh and the sunset is blazing. I

Blue Springs 50/50 Marathon Race Report and The Run to Subbing Three

This is my story of achieving a dream and a race report. Please come along on this run with me as I share my experience, provide feedback on overall organization, and hopefully answer the “should I run this race” question. Taking some time highlighting the things potential runners of this race might care to avail themselves of, prior to their first time here.  Secondly, I have a fun story to tell about my journey to subbing three and say thanks to all those who helped to try to get me there.

Race Report

Official Race Name - Blue Springs 50 Mile,  50K, Larry Mattonen Marathon and 1/2 Marathon

Unofficial Names - Blues Springs 50/50, Blue Springs Trail Marathon, Some Race Lou Puts On 

The Course – It’s flat. The hills that exist are negligible and basically take you up to cross a road or the river that you will be traversing next to the entire time. It's a crushed limestone or gravel trail, the kind when you were a kid would suck your shoes off when it gets wet. It would leave the bottoms of your jeans gray and dusty and if your shoes weren’t tied tight the occasional rock would let you know it. It’s one of the most forgiving surfaces that you can still run fast on. The route…well it’s not overly marked. Meaning it's a trail, which by definition states, it's a route in and of itself, hence followable. The points at which you turn or need some direction the ground was spray painted with arrows and pink flags were planted along those curves. You only crossed on a road once and that was to get to the other side of the trail which again was well marked. The trail meanders lazily but so does the Little Blue Trace running next to it. Here is a link to the course map.
Lou Joline is the Race Director (RD) for a few events in the Kansas City area and his course maps are the best. I'm not sure if he hand draws these or outsources this to a fourth grader but they are fantastic. This more appropriately represents in my head what the course looks like better than google maps but my imagination is still stuck in childhood. "POINT 9 IS THREE FEET E (East) OF A SIGN SHOWING THAT THIS ROAD DIVIDES". The level of specificity and detail is unheard of. Instead of saying, "a divided road sign" which I'm pretty sure we all understand he takes it to the next level and explains the sign, "a sign showing that this road divides." That's Lou. 

The Organization - What are they organizing for? That is always a good question to ask yourself when deciding how well the race was put together. This is not to be confused with a large, officially named and sponsored marathon, no sir. This is a small, local, completely volunteered and organized USTAF certified race. I ran the marathon in 2012 and read some reviews online. I hadn't run in a race Lou organized before 2012 but the laid back nature of ultra/trail running typically creates a good vibes all around. There were about 50 to 60 total runners of all the distances in 2012 - 50/50 mile and K, marathon and half. 

What do you need for a race like this? Not much. The start/finish area is well stocked with drinks, snacks, GU, etc. The aid stations are self-service mainly but volunteers do offer full service at a couple. The aid areas are designed for the 50 milers so they are well outfitted. There were three main staffed aid stations. Start/Finish, six, eleven, sixteen, and twenty three - that's according to the marathon distance. It’s an out and back so while there are three main aid stations they actually act like two aid stations because you catch them on the way out and the way back. There was at least three other self-serviced water or sports drink stations along the course. There were only four sections on the course with toilets. Start/Finish, mile four, mile six, mile eleven and then again on the way back. If you are dropping bombs while you are running my advice would be to take it easy on the Chipotle the night before. At each area there were typically one or two stalls. While that may not be enough to handle a large amount of people, there weren't a large amount of people. If you need a DJ, live bands, bounce houses or Radio Disney to offer pre or post-race ambiances you are out of luck - although there is a playground right by the start area. 

Lou is a BIG part of the overall organization. He directs, arranges bibs and timing, and gets aid stations staffed all the while getting tremendous support from the Kansas City Track Club and Blue Springs Running Club. Lou appears to wear life loosely and I'm akin to that philosophy as well. People can be a bit put off when he answers a question about course markings with the response, “it's a trail so it's inherently followable.” He's joking but under the considerable stress and anxiety before a race, some may not perceive the same level of humor he does. Lighten up my friends. If you go into this race with the mindset that it's a long fast training run, that's supported by volunteers but cheered by no one, your expectations will be met. Lou is also old, like retired old, like he could be your grandpa old or great grandpa old.

Fan Support - I like to look at it like this. If you run ultras to 5k's someone somewhere is making a sacrifice on your behalf so that you can run these races. While the screaming crowds of any big city marathon are entirely absent from this race, you have plenty of support from your fellow runners. I got at least thirty "good jobs and nice run" during my race. The aid stations workers are very supportive and encouraging and were just as likely to tell me I was killing it as they were to offer up any support they could give. This race is for runners whose motivation on race day comes from within because there will be a moment where you are going to have to rely on something deep inside your soul.

SWAG - People run races to get stuff, deal with it. That was as much for you as it was for me. If you are looking for some giant five inch finisher medal, complete with laser beams shooting out of the eyes of a phoenix that is triumphantly rising from the ashes while metallic fire glistens off it’s back, this race is not for you. Here is last year’s finisher medal: (and yes I have murder’s thumbs – just google it)

Was this crafted in the Yankee Workshop? Quite possibly. There was a braided nylon rope around it originally but that's still hanging on the wall. The wording appears to be from a word doc text box. Nice touch with the colors. This year we did not get finisher medals, instead we got solar powered desk gadgets. 

Different and original, check. How many race medals to you have sitting on your desk or on the window ledge? Not very many I bet. This will be proudly displayed on the window sill in my kitchen serving as a reminder of my favorite marathon. Well, it would have sat on the window but my daughters broke the flower off before we even made it home. Little assholes, we can’t have anything nice. You also get a t-shirt with the Blue Springs Running Club logo. It's of technical fabric and high quality. It's not race specific but will probably last longer in your race shirt drawer than many others plastered with more sponsor logos than art. The glorious winnings for the first female and male finishers of all distances are water bottles from other races Lou directs. In regards to swag at packet pickup I’m not entirely sure what’s available but something tells me not much. I mean, I think you get a bib. I have never gone to his pre-race packet pickup so I'm not sure if you get coupons and little advertisements for other races. Packet Pickup is at a Fazoli's which is tremendous. 

Price - Fees: Solo $30, $35 race day, Relay walkers $16 each, $20 race day. Includes shirt or something. I pulled that little ditty directly from the website. $30 BUCKS FOR A USATF CERTIFIED 50MILE TO HALF. I like value and this race is worth every penny. My intentions are to use my time as my Boston Qualifier next year and to improve my wave assignment for this year although I’m not sure if I can double dip like that. For $30 bucks I got an organized race, a marked course, a few shitters, stocked aid stations, a t-shirt, a solar powered nicknack, free pictures, and a fast time. If you have a tendency to find fault in things and look for negatives rather than positives, first, stop being such a dick, second go put on your own run and tell me how it goes. 

That should about cover what you need to know about this race. If you have any specific questions please hit me up. If all you were interested in was learning about the race you should stop reading. This is not a story of one that got away, this is the story about one that was finally caught.

2:59:09

Subbing three hours in a marathon has been a goal of mine since someone told me that only around 2% or less of marathoners ever run that fast. It’s hard. Really, really, really hard and I believe that you should do something hard every day. It was around 2011 when I really understood how hard it was going to be. That is not to say that 2011 was the year I started running. I started running small, like one mile fun runs in second grade small, and continued until I was a junior in high school and picked back up in 2008. My rebirth into running started in trying to prove to people I wasn't wasting my life. If you can run a marathon, how hard can you really be living? You would be amazed. In 2004, when I was constantly getting wrecked, I ran the St. Patrick’s Day Four Miler in 25:36, puked up whiskey in the last mile and smoked a cigarette on the way out of the finishing shoot. I WAS a screw up but man I could fly, what a waste but I digress. In 2008, my old man was determined to run his first half when he turned sixty and I said if he could do that, I could do a full. Always a competition with him and I. It was brutal but I was infected. I started becoming all too familiar with Marathon Guide and fortunately came across a local running group called the Trail Nerds. Jackpot. This is where and when it became less about time and more about having fun and seeing what you can do. I didn't have fun in my first marathon; in fact it was a shit ton of suffering. That was not cool. I get that the pain is part of it, pushing ourselves to see what we can do is inherently attractive to certain people. I dig it. Running at first was nothing more of a way to get out of the house, keep focused, and keep people off my back. It worked. Slowly, I started running more and more races of all lengths. Marathons, 50K's, halfs, fifty milers and 2.8 mile trail races. In 2010, I ran the Olathe Marathon. It may have been called the Oz or Garmin marathon at the time and I managed to run a 3:29. At that point I started researching qualifying for Boston. Boston, Boston, Boston. You hear it talked about in chat rooms and at races. I remember when I went to this kid’s house, Billy Huston, and his mom had a finisher medal and I think they had an article on her in the Southeast Missourian regarding running in the Boston Marathon. I couldn’t have been more than fifteen or sixteen at the time but I do remember thinking if you got your name in the paper it was probably a big deal. Man, what strange things stick with us. In 2010 a 3:10 was the fastest qualifying standard and lucky for me, my age group time. After following up that race with a 3:21 at the Kansas City Marathon I felt if I trained hard it was doable. 

That's when I started looking at training plans rather than my normal training plan which was “go outside and run”. I got an excel file from a collegiate distance runner I knew, Kyle Brown (much love my man), who had some success at the marathon distance. The file itself was intimidating. Like ten separate sheets for all sorts of things I have never heard of. To this day I believe VO2 Max is something that can be found in the hair care aisle.  Around this time is when my mileage started to explode. Kyle asked me how many miles I was running per week and I was doing about 30-40 with no real method just shorter runs with a long run on the weekend. He told me point blank that if I wanted to qualify for Boston I need to run more miles and more quality sessions. At first my inner dickhead thought, “Are you kidding me? I can do this thing on sheer force of will.” Then when I continued to make very little improvement I swallowed my pride and printed out the excel file. I got semi-serious with hill runs, long runs, tempo runs, and speed work. I attribute my ability to maintain a high turnover to a few fundamentals, at least one speed work session every two weeks (and it better be really hard), a long run every weekend of at least 14 miles most likely twenty, lifting weights, and trail running. Do what works for you, that works for me. 

After Kansas City 2010, I was now dabbling in 50K’s and targeted one during my training for my Boston qualifier using it as an extended long run. I was pretty good about hitting my times and my miles during that full eighteen weeks of training. I missed one or two, here or there, but on the whole, put in my time and miles. My goal was to sub 3:10. I figured if I ran a 1:30-1:35 first half I would be in good shape. I got a pace band from the good people at Races 2 Remember with the “modified warm up” strategy and by the half point I was at 1:30. I crossed the line that day in the 2011 Olathe Marathon in 3:01:19ish and was floored. I couldn't believe I smashed my goal time! I was also vexed by all the questions coming from people about how I DIDN'T sub three. In their defense, they didn't know that was my PR by nearly eighteen minutes and I was going to Boston. In retrospect, anytime you hear of someone finishing so close, but above, a fairly obvious goal time, tell them congrats on the feat and spare them the anguish of being reminded of what they didn't accomplish. Believe me, we runners are pretty hard on ourselves already, we don't really need the reminder after a race of the “almost”.

Once you get that close to one of these barriers you have to attempt to cross it. Now a word about finishing what you started. The ultra-community can be someone spastic when it comes to not finishing a race. Some would tell you there is no way they would quit, that nothing will keep them from finishing. “I commit not to quit!” is a mantra you hear quite frequently. The majority of runners will finish and the majority will accomplish what they set out to do but how do you know your limits unless you reach them? It’s going to happen. DNF - Did Not Finish. That sucks. It really does. I have quite a few of these and each has a story and each taught me something. The disappointment burns but that is why I keep running, to paste over those first drafts and replace them with something complete. From April 2011 to October 2013 I had some high, highs like qualifying for Boston and finishing my first 50K to some low lows, DNF'ing at Boston 2012 (my very first Boston), and only breaking 3:05 once. During all that time one thing did not change. My love for getting up at 5:30am on a Saturday, getting all my stuff on, jingling the dog collar as Charlotte goes bananas, and run like I was in the woods growing up. 

One subtle change of perception occurred after I ran in Olathe in April of 2013. I ran a 3:04 and was not upset even though I was attempting to sub three, not upset because I had placed in the top five two weeks prior in the Brew to Brew Solo forty-five mile ultra. I came off of that run with the legs still in me to qualify for Boston again and with that elusive five minute cushion (my qualifying time is 3:10 now that I am an old man and they lowered the lowest qualifying time to 3:05). As I took stock of that race (at least 24-28 hours later to more objectivity look back) is the moment in time where I KNEW I could sub three. 

For me it is all about the base. Basically, five years of running with no more than two or three weeks of full rest in between. This past July I only ran twice, once was a 50K and once was a half, other than that I rested. At the same time something was gnawing at me in terms of my training. I hadn’t really tried anything new and needed to change to keep it fresh and to do that, again, I asked for help from my friends. Chris Legler, a fellow runner, born with a great running name, gave me his Jack Daniel's 18 Week Marathon Plan. He highlighted two things that appealed to me. The highest mileage week was fifty-five miles and you had one or two speed sessions a week. That's not entirely true; it's not really two speed sessions but two hard sessions. Speed doesn't always have to be a factor in a hard workout but I find it usually has some aspect. His plan called for him to run a 6:45 per mile pace and finish in the sub 2:56-2:57 range. While, he barely missed his goal at Chicago, this was a more manageable training regimen for me since seventy mile weeks cause me to run twice a day and turn into a jerk. That is not conducive to me being happy and why run if you aren't having a good time. 

Back to Boston. My best friend qualified for Boston this year in probably the most competitive qualifying process ever. As he waited admission notification, he told me about these message boards on Runner's World where people were commenting on all things Boston Marathon. Surprising to me is how some people assume that being fast is all due to genetics and the biological lottery. That's probably true for a certain percentage of elites, think Kenyan body type, but for most of us those genetics only get you so far. No one runs those miles for me and no one wakes me up, gets me ready, or puts in all that time. Again, let's just make a note here that you can just be happy for someone when they do a good job or have success. You don't have to put some conditions on it like, "well, he has a great body for it". You know what, my body type wouldn't be right for running if I crammed Oreo's in my cake hole all the time and didn't exercise. I mean come on, a body like this doesn't just grow on the biological tree without a little pruning and weeding but again I digress. 

The final two weeks before Blue Springs 2013 I did what we all are supposed to do when preparing for a goal time marathon, I tapered. I like to do this before all the events I am racing but that is not always possible if I have an ultra only a few weeks before a goal race. Many of you are probably saying, “hey dumb-ass, if you would taper properly before all your races you would have subbed three already.” There is some validity to that for sure but I have also tapered correctly and had mixed results as well. Anyway, the final two weeks of preparation consisted of three off days, one set of Yasso 800’s ten days before the race, and mostly easy miles. I restricted my Coke’s to one a day and eliminated the sugar free Rockstars (white can) until race day. I also didn’t have desert and managed to stay away from snacking between meals. My ideal race weight is in the 160’s preferably 165 pounds. Those last two weeks have fattened me up before by cutting my mileage and eating like a dumpster. This time I tried to be a little bit more restrictive.
The last week I was getting pretty stressed, which is a mixed blessing because it causes me to lose my appetite and it also means I care.  This happens quite regularly when I’m attempting to sub three or place high in a race. Uncharacteristically, my confidence was pretty low. I had a bad half in July that discouraged me, for the first time ever I was having a foot issue (low grade plantar fasciitis), and on some of my long pace runs I was really struggling to hit my times for the last few miles. Struggling on the last few miles of a long run does not instill boatloads of confidence that come marathon day you will have something left in the tank for the end. I even told my wife I wasn’t feeling good about this one and if she wanted to stay home with the kids, I was down with that. She looked at me like I was crazy. 

Finally, the day before the race was different for me as well. The marathon was on a Sunday and I didn’t have any soccer games to coach so I decided to go to the Y and stretch. I walked/jogged a couple of miles and then spent a solid half an hour just stretching. Long static stretches and holds that I don’t spend enough time doing. After that, I came home and stayed off my feet and drank a fair bit of water. Around supper time I decided to try something different for my pre-race meal. Normally, it’s pasta, chicken with white sauce, and peas which tastes good and provides the needed carbs and calories I will be burning. That night we changed it up. Two Kansas City Strips left in the freezer from my eight year old’s birthday meal were enticing. Ruby wanted steak for her birthday, we have it maybe three times a year, and I had some left so we had steaks, mashed potatoes and peas with garlic bread. It was scrumptious. I followed that up with more water and managed to be in bed and asleep by 9:30pm, that’s a miracle. 

Race Day

I was up at 5:30am for a 7:00am start time. Like all obsessive runners, I had all my gear laid out from the night before. Shoes, tights, underwear, socks, sleeves, head band, stocking cap, gloves, pace band, watch, and fuel belt/pack. I got up a little early because I wanted to be able to actually eat. The stress causes me to not eat and then I bonk over the last four miles. A banana and piece of peanut butter toast are my go-to’s but I had a new plan for my race day diet. Banana bread. I had made two loaves of banana bread the night before and took about a three inch chunk with me in the car. I stopped at QuikTrip to get a giant (sugar free, white can) Rockstar because I drink about half of one before the race. The caffeine provides a little pick me up and makes getting out into the cold and running more pleasing. I arrived at the parking lot a little after 6:15am and just chilled out. I sat in my car, tightened my shoe laces, listened to some sweet jams and mentally just zoned out. Around 6:30am I got out of my car and headed over to find Lou and get my bib. It was black outside, in the upper 30’s Fahrenheit, and some runners had already started. You can start at 6 or 7am due to the varied distances of this race. You have fifty milers, 50k runners and relay teams already on the course so the start/finish area is a bit jumbled with activity. I found Lou and got my bib. This was the point where I heard him mention about the trail being a trail hence not too many markings. I was laughing and smiling because while I understand he is joking, if you have never run in his races you might think he is being mean but he is not. 

I got my bib from his manila folder stash and went back to my car to pin it on. I ate my first GU at 6:45am and took an S-Cap. If you aren’t familiar with S-Cap’s they are basically sodium and potassium pills used by endurance athletes to reduce cramping. At least that’s what I use them for. As I was sitting there, I began to ponder if there weren’t that many course markers what about mile markers? I knew the answer before I asked but in my nervousness I asked Lou anyway.  I got back out of my car and walked over the start. 

“Hey Lou, are there mile markers on the course?” I inquired. 

“Well the trail has mile markers on it but they don’t correspond to the mile you are actually running,” said Lou. 

“So not really,” I replied. 

Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit, shit, shit. 

This pretty much threw a giant wrench into my perfect plan. My pace-band was now an expensive paper wristband and the only way I was going to know if I was near my time was to estimate how far I had run and do the math in my head. Mental math!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Whelp, maybe I will just take my phone with me. This was not something I wanted to do. The point of this race was to be light, not carry my own water, just a little strap pouch for my GU but nothing else. No music, no update every mile of speed, pace, average pace, overall time. It was supposed to just be me, my thoughts and the trail. Instead this was unraveling and was going to be a disaster. Please pardon the language here but I just said, “fuck it”. No phone, no mile markers, no splits, just the trail and my thoughts. I jogged about a mile to get warmed up and did a few token stretches and headed for the starting line. 

Welcome to the starting line. You start asking what other people’s paces are, if they’ve ran the race before and if they are trying to hit a specific time. There seemed to be a fair number of new runners to this race and having run it last year I mentioned to a few that I was familiar with the course and shouldn’t get lost. Then a gentleman asked how I did and I said a 3:12 and he said he would probably not be following me then. We both laughed. Here are the obligatory starting line shots. 

This is me. Please note, I’m not sure if Lou believes in the three R’s, reduce, reuse, recycle but the bib I’m wearing is from another race he puts on. Adds to the charm. 

Here we are at the starting line. 

“Sixty seconds until the start!”

We stepped up to the line. There were a little over thirty marathoners competing in this race and based on last year’s results, I figured there would be someone fast racing because who doesn’t like to win a race. When I won last year, it was the first time I had ever won a marathon and I figured the last. When you see finishing times that look like you could beat them, it becomes pretty hard to not give it a go.

My plan coming into this race was a modified warm up strategy.  Look at the band below if you have questions about this method.  

In my three or four attempts to actually sub three, I have always broken down over the last few miles. Probably a little mental but mostly a lack of strength and endurance to maintain that pace over the entirety of the race is why I wanted to go out slow. My previous personal best was set when I ran this same strategy. The twist this time was there were no marathon mile markers only permanent trail mile markers. I kept the band on partially for the mantra but I also held out hope that at the turn-around or other spots there would be someone with a GPS or know exactly how far I was.

PERFECT

DAY

FOR FAST

That is the mantra on my band. Normally, I put my wife and kids names on the band and who knew when I ordered this the weeks before that this was going to be so fortuitous. 

I went out like a rocket. It’s almost black as night, its overcast cloudy and the sun hasn’t broken the horizon yet, it’s cold, and within a half mile I’m by myself. The only way this could have been better is if my dog was running with me. Due to the fact we are on a wooded trail, I’m out in front and the lack of road noise; I could hear my footfalls distinctly. For anyone who has logged thousands of miles of running you probably have the ability to know how fast you are running with a combination of your turnover, heart rate, and the sound of your footfalls. Personally, I can tell if I’m under seven minutes a mile on the sound of my feet hitting the ground. After a mile of settling in and deciding if the pace I’m running at is maintainable I felt as if I was right around that seven minute a mile pace or possibly a bit faster.  

Remembering the conversation I had with Lou at the beginning, I started looking for the first trail mile marker. The new plan in my head was to check my watch at that first post and check again at the next marker. I think I missed the first mile marker because my watch was ticking at 00:12:02ish. Don’t confuse yourself and think that this was the first mile. I figured I was nearing my second actual mile but I had no way to tell. When I saw the second trail marker and glanced down and saw 00:18:48ish. That meant I was running about 6:50 for mile or so. That’s nearly the exact pace I needed to be running overall in order to sub three! I was slightly perplexed because it did feel like I was moving a bit faster than that but I continued to push. 

 

Around the 45 minute mark I took my second GU and first on the course. I had three more to take and decided I would eat another at 01:30:00, 02:00:00, and 02:30:00. A pretty solid fueling strategy with the exception that I wasn’t carrying water. Normally, I eat one GU right before an aid station. Not really knowing where the aid stations were I opted to eat them at my given times and try to follow up with water as quickly as possible. When I’m using GU’s I try to stick to only water. Too much sugar upsets my stomach so if no GU’s then sports drink but not both. I hit the first manned aid station and grabbed some water. 

Another oddity for me this race was that prior to this aid station and not much longer after I had to stop to relieve myself on the edge of the course. Normally my hydration strategy eliminates the need to eliminate. I figured peeing related to the uptick in water I was consuming that prior week and the Rockstar I was sipping earlier. Too much information!

Right after this I began to be passed by runners coming at me and I was passing runners from behind. Remember there was a 6am start time as well for anyone who needed a little extra cushion. Plus, the 50K and 50 milers like to start early when they can, it makes finishing as a group more fun. Who doesn’t like passing people! I love it. A chance to change my mind a bit and start focusing on what’s in front of me and not how I am feeling. This is also when you get a lot of the “good jobs” and “nice run”. It’s around 7:30am and the sun is slowly starting to cook off the low hanging mist/fog that has been enveloping the surroundings since the beginning of the race.

It’s so peaceful, so serene that a calmness and serenity is in my soul. A tear starts to well up as I am wrapped in a blanket of emotion of happiness and freedom. Seriously, one day I will write the story behind the inspiration for my running but that is for another time.  

As I approach the hour mark I start to think about how far I have gone. I am under the impression that it is roughly eleven miles to the turnaround and then eleven back to the start/finish line. The way I figure if I can hit the turnaround at 01:15:00 that would put me at 02:30:00 if I can even split it on the way back. As written previously, you run out and back and then through the start finish for another short out and back the other way. Based on my mental math that would leave 4.2 miles remaining and a little under thirty minutes to hit my time. Your perspective changes quickly when you start to think something is doable. Your confidence starts to grow. 

The turnaround is right after an aid station so I grabbed some water and a few pretzels and headed to that point. At the turnaround I am at 01:15:30ish. That put me at a good pace and put me at around a 00:06:51 pace per mile. Internally mind blowing as I’m holding the exact pace I was hoping to run. Are the stars aligning? The motivation is coming quite often. I’m now passing people regularly, which again provides a focus and I also know how far behind me the other runners are. While I have no idea how far the second place guy really was it seemed like it was at least five minutes or longer before I saw anyone who I hadn’t already passed. I want to share a picture of the guy who was in second at that time. 

I am sharing this because he is wearing the race shirt from the 2009 Go! St. Louis Marathon and that was the FIRST marathon I ever ran! Yes, we are only in Kansas City and yes the running community is pretty tight but for real? Another omen. 

I’m feeling really good at this point even uncomfortably comfortable. I have two more GU’s to take and the landmarks I had stored in my head from the first half are helping to shorten the distance. This entire time I have not had any setbacks only when I pass some old dude and he says, “only nine miles to the start” do I start to wig out a little. How can that be right? Based on my stellar arithmetic I am certain it’s less than that, more like eight or even seven. No worries, he’s probably confused of the mileage, like myself, and he’s old.

At the 02:15:00 mark I can hear the highway. Interstate I-70 is probably a mile from the start/finish and the traffic has picked up based on that noise. What a great freaking noise! It can’t be more than two miles to the start/finish and I’m running a little behind my pace. It’s going to come down to how far is the out and back once you cross the start/finish. If it’s four miles it’s going to be tough. I’m continuing to gain confidence though because I FEEL that my pace has been fast. I FEEL it’s been faster than I’ve needed it to be. I had yet to allow myself the thought that my goal was within reach but dammit it was within reach. 

I busted out of the woods and could see the path as it runs back up and down and under the main road. I’m glancing at my watch and estimate that I will be at the start/finish to head out on the final out and back around 2:32:30ish. 

As I see the line I scream out at Lou, “how many miles left?”

 No response. 

“How many miles left?!” I yell again. 

“Three!” Yells Lou. 

NO WAY! I glance at my watch and I’m around 2:33:00ish. That means I have around twenty seven minutes to finish and hit my time. NO WAY! Are you kidding me? Unless there is an epic collapse I am going to do this! While I was a bit disappointed that there was no wife and kids to cheer me on, if I could at least maintain I was golden. I continue to motor along but must confess my pace is fading. My mental map of where the turn-around was, was failing me. Finally, I see a guy running toward me and I ask how far to the turnaround. He says about a mile. About a mile? What the hell is happening? I glance at my watch and it feels like I should nearly be at the turnaround already. Cursed non-mile mile-markers!

Again the math starts along with the terrible conversation blasting through my head. What time did I come across the line to start this out and back? Based on that to the turnaround how much time am I going to have left? Where is that damn turnaround? Like finding water in the desert when I saw the two volunteers at the turnaround I was pumped. 

“Marathon turnaround,” I scream? 

“Yep, do you need any…”

I knew it was the turnaround. There was a yellow sign and a U-Turn arrow spray painted in orange on the ground. I didn’t even hear him finish I just turned around and checked my watch. Based on my Hawkinian calculations I surmised that if I made it to the turn at 02:45:00 or even 02:46:00 then I had plenty of time to make it back and sub three, even if I got into some trouble. Again, I avert my eyes from the trail to my watch and it’s about 02:46:30ish. It’s going to be close but how is that possible. There is no way it can only be only 1.5 miles to the turn it HAS to be longer than that. More on that later. 

Mental maps and landmarks are great for many reasons but reassurance and comfort are what I was looking for. Fall is my favorite season and I had chosen a large tree that looked like a giant red firework exploding. Once I saw that tree I would try to pick it up and finish really hard. Let me remind you that I have yet to have any physical setbacks so when I got a cramp with less than a half a mile to go all I could do was laugh and panic. My right quad got tight and my left quad sent the first twinge to my head that there was trouble. Then my right calf started to tighten and all I can think is don’t seize up. As long as they just tighten but don’t seize it’s all good. Sprinting is now out of the question but it’s not going to be necessary. The gentleman who was in second was now in third and the competitor now in second is at least five minutes behind and won’t catch me. 

I’m no more than two hundred yards from the finish when I hear, “Way to go Daddy!” 

The three loves of my life had made it to finish. The trail likes to bend, with large trees providing shade but blocking sight lines so my wife didn’t see me coming until I was pretty close. I had glanced down when I saw my tree and knew I was going to make it. The girls are yelling for me as I pass and when I cross the line I see my time. 

All I can do is raise my arms in triumph. 

I still don’t know how to accurately express everything that was pulsating through me emotionally at that time. I have heard my oldest tell others that sometimes Dad cries at the end of his races. During the entire race I was thinking about what I would do if I made it. Get down on the ground and kiss the trail, just start sobbing, do a cartwheel, collapse in a heap? Instead I just lifted up my arms and said, “I did it.” 

“Two fifty nine oh nine! Two fifty nine oh nine! I did it. I did it. I did it.”

That’s all I could say. I found my wife and gave her a huge hug. The girls ran up to me and could care less, they just wanted me to pick out my finisher toy. Lou walks up and has my time and congratulates me on a job well done. He mentioned that he ran a 3:03 or 3:01 once and comments on how hard shaving that last minute or two can be. He gives me an insulated water bottle from a previous 5K as my winnings. The girls are already fighting over it. Talk about helping you keep perspective in the most normal ways. 

Here are some finish line photos. 

Coming to the finish. 

Getting my time.

Getting my first place swag!

With my loves. 

My soon to be broken solar toy medal!

Here is a link to the course I ran via www.gmap-pedometer.com : http://www.gmap-pedometer.com/?r=6128460

According to the course map and my memory it seems as if I ran nearly twenty seven miles. That could be correct or my memory could be wrong. The final turnaround may have been sooner but it certainly feels like it too forever to get to. 

Let’s dig in for a little more analysis. If you take the link to the mapped run at face value and said I actually ran 26.98 miles, I averaged a 6:38 per minute pace. If you were to subtract out the additional distance and time I could have possibly ran a 02:53:58. I’m going to go back and look at the ground to see where the actual final turn around was and actually GPS it. The more I look at the map the more I am convinced I ran long and let me explain. 

My time to the first turnaround was 01:15:30 if the distance is correct I ran that at an average of 6:37 per mile. On the run back I managed a to hit a 01:17:30 which averages a 6:48 per mile pace. It all comes down to the last splits and how far that it was to the last turnaround. It was either 1.68 miles to the turn or 2.09 miles. Regardless, it was probably further than three miles and maybe someday I will actually know exactly how far I ran. It was probably a little more than 26.2 miles but its all good. It’s better for a race to run long and be certified than be under and be not certified.

You see what I'm doing here. Trying to give myself the justification and motivation to try to keep going faster. I was convinced this was what I was shooting for and it was. The pressure I put on myself is now lifted; it's like going to confession.

People talk about bucket lists. I don’t have one. At least not in the sense that I have a defined list of things I want to do before I die. Instead, I have life goals. Running under three in a marathon was one of them. Whatever ever your life goals are I recommend setting them high and not giving up on them because when you accomplish one the feeling of satisfaction is unlike any high I’ve ever had. No one can ever take this away from you. It’s forever a part of who you are. When you gain this new perspective from something you’ve accomplished it’s then your obligation to share this experience with others when they ask. 

I’m happy to be part of this club, I’m thankful for all the friends and family who sacrificed to help make this happen, and I’m going to continue to try to get better at doing the right things one day at a time. With that I’ll pass...on your left.