Another Photo for the Gallery of Dubious Behavior

This was a memorable marathon - my 19th overall, and my 9th completed in Huntsville on these familiar roads.  The Rocket City Marathon course is one I know intimately, as only one who has suffered and triumphed through these long miles can know.  (And sadly it is the last time the race will be held on this course or hosted at the Holiday Inn.  Race headquarters for 27 years or so will be torn down the day after the race, and the course will change.)

I came very close to canceling this one because the weather forecast had been calling for rain for several days – at one point a startling 100% - and I watched the three or four different weather apps on my iPhone compulsively.  They indeed showed a long weather front – rain in the south and snow in the north – sweeping inexorably across the country, called Winter Storm Electra.  When I went to bed on Friday night it looked like this (the blue dot is Huntsville):

But by race start, the rain had mostly passed by, its cold waters parting miraculously before me overnight like the Red Sea before Moses: 

Light drizzle diminished in the early miles, and I stayed on pace (10-minute miles) for the first half or so, but when we turned north and headed back to downtown Huntsville, the wind was at our back and it warmed up a good bit, and at the same time the nagging pain in my right leg began to tighten up.  I ran when I could and walked when I had to, and was thankful as always to cross the finish line in 5:17:51 – not my slowest time ever, but not the pace at which I had trained.  Still, victory is sweet when the race is difficult.  "The greater the obstacle, the more glory in overcoming it." - Moliere. 

And as all marathon runners know, the first goal is to merely cross the finish line.  And what a great experience along the way!  That same house in the Twickenham Historic District was blaring the Halleluia Chorus from Messiah in the early miles, and Christmas decorations all were displayed all along the way.  One house had everything covered in its front yard:  Frosty, Santa, and the Nativity Scene carefully fenced in with candy canes - separating the sacred from the profane, I suppose.  Every time I needed to see it, I saw a sign or shirt with the words, "I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me."

This was perhaps the most difficult race I have run.  Do I ever want to run a marathon again?  I have to wait before I can answer this question.  It is easy to trot out that old runners piece of bravado, "You don't stop running marathons because you get old; you get old because you stop running marathons."  But there is more to it than that.  There is the absolute feeling of accomplishment, of glory, of heartfelt praise and thanksgiving when I cross the sweet finish line again in celebration of life and health and fitness and strength.  Amen. 

And so another photo goes on the little Gallery of Dubious Behavior behind the fireplace.

The Starting Line

Has it been so many weeks since I have written in this blog?  I'm not sure anyone is reading it anyway, but I thought I should record my thoughts and concerns about the upcoming marathon this Saturday - only four days from now.  I have been bothered by a nagging injury - a recurring tendinitis that seems to involve all the muscles and tendons of my lower right leg, the ones used for driving.  I suppose this means I have been going on too many drives and not enough runs, because during long runs it completely disappears.  That's when all the other aches and pains raise their nagging heads!

And then there is the rain - going up this week from a 70% to an 80% to a 90% chance on Saturday.  I do not look forward to running four-and-a-half hours in cold rain.  So I called the Holiday Inn to see what their cancellation policy was, and found out that it had already passed.  This seemed to be the final sign I needed to go ahead and prepare myself.  So I made reservations at Connor Steak house this morning, gathered together all my receipts and other information, and began to organize my running gear, which does indeed include a wide variety of options for rain.  And instead of running my chainsaw and splitting firewood today, I think I'll do some light work around the house, like hanging up Christmas lights outside.

Four years ago I qualified for Boston at this race, and they were also calling for rain, as close to race time as the evening before.  But it miraculously dissipated, and the same thing can happen this time.  I have already decided - and stated publicly - that if it is pouring rain at 8:00 a.m. on  Saturday, I will simply call it off, and save this fitness built up over so many weeks for another race, like the hot Chocolate 10-K in January.  I have nothing to prove.  And hard training never goes to waste.

But if the weather is half-way decent - that's all I ask, really, 50% or so - then I will go for it.  "The readiness is all," as Lord Hamlet said.  And I am ready.

And besides, I need a new hat.

Around the World in 18 Years

I made a remarkable discovery this weekend. 

Like many runners, I am a compulsive record-keeper.  I keep a little book on each of the 149 races I have run, with description and photos.  And I also keep a running log in a small Day Planner - the same type I have used for many, many years - entering mileage run, conditions, and other notes, and totting up the weekly mileage in the back.  At the end of the year, I add up total annual miles, and several years ago I went back and retrieved the mileage from all of my past running logs (which of course I keep in a secure location) beginning with the year 1995.  I had run for many years since then, and even as a child, but that's when I began documenting my annual mileage in running logs.

As I was adding up my weekly mileage, it occurred to me for some reason to look up the circumference of the globe.  According to Wiki Answers, that distance is 24,901.55 miles.  One thing led to another, and after a little work with a calculator I discovered that on July 19, 2013 - during the course of an ordinary 9-mile run this summer and unbeknownst to me at the time - I crossed that threshold. 

What an amazing thing - to discover that I have already run all the way around the world!  I know that the Dean Karnazes of the world have far exceeded that distance, but still. . .   I have run around the world!

5-K Man

I recently watched a great movie - Ultramarathon Man:  50 Marathons, 50 States, 50 Days - about the ultramarathon runner Dean Karnazes (available on Netflix).  This man ran a marathon in each of our fifty states, sometimes the actual marathon itself on the day it occurred, but often just the course for a marathon in that state with a group of race organizers and others.  It was an amazing feat of endurance, and I remember following Dean's blog at the time(2006) as he described his progress across the country.  His biggest problem was recovering for the next day- icing himself, getting plenty of fluids in, and eating loads of carbs.  Sometimes conditions were absolutely miserable, but each race was a real inspiration, because as he went from state to state he was joined by runners, some of whom had never run a marathon before, who simply wanted to run alongside him.

So Saturday I ran the Pour le Pink 5-K our at Highlands-Cashiers Hospital.  I had worked hard on Friday instead of resting, and I do not do well running downhill and off-road, where the course begins and ends.  But I managed to capture the First Place Age Group trophy anyway, probably because I was the only 60-69 male runner.  Sometime during the course of the weekend it occurred to me that this was the time of year that the Autumn Breeze 5-K was held, a great flat, fast race at Tallulah Gorge (only an hour away) that Martha ran several years ago.  I remember that I had waited for her at the finish line because I had just completed a 20-mile run the day before, and she had described it as perhaps the most beautiful course she had ever run.  Martha checked and indeed the race was being held soon.  In fact, it was being held on Sunday afternoon, the very next day. 

And that's when the idea occurred to me that I might be able to run two 5-Ks, back to back.  Why not, after all?  If Dean had run 50 marathons in 50 days, surely I could run a mere two 5-Ks in two days.  And maybe one on Monday, too - like the Mountain Lakes Course in Highlands.  "5-K Man!"  I discussed this ambitious plan with Martha while we were walking down our road on Sunday morning.  It would break every rule I knew as a runner to run an unplanned race.  And to take as many easy days after a race as the number of miles in the race.  But Dean broke very rule in the book!

By the time I had reached the bridge a half-mile down our road, my legs told me the truth:  "You do not want to run a race today.  You are not Dean Karnazes."  And the remarkable thing is that I actually listened.  But thanks, Martha, for being willing to drive me to Tallulah Gorge to run a foolish race. 

Cades Cove

Today several of us went to Cades Cove - the 11th time for me - and for the first time we faced not the usual beautiful September conditions, but light rain that was predicted to become heavier.  The weather map looked like this:

When we arrived at the parking lot, there was light rain, but it was occasionally blowing sideways, and that yellow and orange stuff on the map had not yet arrived.  So what does a smart runner do?  Yes, I bagged it.  Anthony and Skip slogged around the loop in the rain, and Skip later reported that I missed a great run; "No real rain until we got to the finish."

Congratulations, my friends!  But I have stood at the starting line of too many marathons in conditions like this and was not prepared to run 11 miles in the rain.  Not when the predicted conditions tomorrow morning in Highlands will be perfect, and with a 0% chance of rain.

Did You Mean: Beer Pins? (3052 items)

That's what I discovered when I Googled "Bear Pen" - beer pins! 

But every runner in Highlands knows what a Bear Pen is, and its historical origins.  And that there are actually two Bearpens, Little Bearpen Mountain and Big Bearpen Mountain.  And of the two, Big Bearpen is the route of choice when the training plan calls for running six miles of hills.  I don't know how many times I have climbed this mountain early in a training plan; there is no better way to build strength than running mountains like this.  From the Town Hall at 3850 feet, beginning with that little hill over by the Catholic Church on Fifth Street, and then the long gradual climb up Chestnut Street, and finally Big Bearpen Road itself topping off at 4250 feet, the climb is relentless - four miles round-trip.  And just as much fun going down as going up!

To make up the extra two miles I ran up "Monkey Hill" as well, which is the local name for the lower end of Hickory Street.  I don't even want to try Googling that one!

Never Give Up

The distance swimmer Diana Nyad has just completed an epic 110-mile swim between Cuba and Florida, finishing this Monday.  It is always inspiring to read about these kinds of awe-inspiring performances, especially as I embark on another marathon.  Of course, there is no comparison between an old guy like me running 26.2 miles and Diana Nyad swimming four times that distance, facing obstacles like jellyfish and sharks for more than two days and nights, setting a world record for distance swum without a shark cage.  Surely that is much more suffering than I am capable of accepting.

NBC News seemed surprised by the fact that also struck me:  she is 64 years old, exactly my age. "Most amazing to many, she succeeded in middle age after failing several times. Her first try was in 1978, when she was just 28.  It took her 52 hours and 54 minutes of what appears to have been pure misery."

In the news story that I watched this morning on TV, she reportedly told those who were waiting on shore for her, "Never give up!"  Her message, she said, was to "Be fully engaged.  Be so awake and alert and alive every minute of every waking day."  Her mantra through the swim was "find a way."  "It doesn't matter ... what you come up against because none of it's going to be pleasant. You're hardly ever out there going, 'Oh, my God, isn't it a beautiful moon tonight?' The crew is feeling that. But you're kind of suffering through the whole thing. So my thought was, 'everything you come up against say -- and this is why people are relating to my story -- all of us suffer heartache. All of us suffer difficulties in our lives. And if you say to yourself 'find a way,' you'll make it through."

At the end of the story, several senior swimmers were shown training in the pool where Diana had trained.  One amazing African-American woman said she was 74 years old and that she enjoyed every single day.  "Go until you can't go no more."

That's what I need to hear both now in Week One of my training and also at Mile 26 in December, if I am blessed enough to make it to that point.

The Long Run is the Slow Run

Although I have run several 10- and 12-mile runs this year, this was the "official" first long run in my marathon-training plan, Week No. 1, and it called for 10 miles.  I had recovered from the 10-mile hike last weekend and felt pretty good Saturday, but when I met up with the rest of the group they were all going so fast!  It was tempting to go with them all (the ones that I could have gone with, anyway) but all of the experts say that the long run should be run at least one minute slower than your marathon goal pace - some say as much as two minutes per mile slower - and so that would be a maximum 10:30 pace for me, at my age, trying to set a time goal in December. 

There were many runners in our club who were going a lot shorter distance than I was who wanted to run faster, but I have learned that it is best to slow down and run with whoever is at the very back of the pack, no matter how much banter about "Richard Pace" goes on.  Ego has no place in marathon training; the idea is to plan your run and run your plan, and not to be tempted into running faster or longer than you should.

So as I was coming down Chestnut Street, feeling a little frustrated and watching one of our runners steadily stretching out the distance in front of me, as I was getting left behind, I suddenly noticed this remarkable sign by the side of the road, no doubt placed there by area residents trying to slow down traffic:

Exactly what I needed to see at exactly the right time!  Thanks be to God in all things!

Back on Track

Four miles today, and everything felt pretty good in this the first week of my marathon training, and the first actual run.  The weather has turned nice and cool - Joe Pye weeds are bowing their tall heads along the roads, and everything is beginning to have that mature musky fragrance of early Fall,

And the light is so beautiful, too.  Last night Martha and I walked down the road and the sky had this peach-colored, pastel color to it that seemed to illuminate the entire world in an otherworldly kind of light.  And there was a cool breeze!  Have we actually turned the corner on all that rain, and all that warm weather?

 All along my route, people were out walking and enjoying the morning.  As I approached the corner where my Mom used to live, near Satulah Ridge, a couple walking a little black dog told me they had just seen a Mama Bear and her two cubs.  Sure enough, another car was stopped in the road, the window down and a mobile phone taking photos, and a little cub scampered across a driveway less than 50 feet away.  No Mama in sight, and I was glad.  They are unpredictable creatures, after all, and they can run a lot faster than I can.  Especially today.

Mt. LeConte

My marathon training plan kicked off this week with a planned four mile easy run on Monday and six miles of hills today.  I missed both of these workouts.  But only a fool would not consider Sunday's 10-mile hike to the summit of Mt. LeConte a good replacement for those workouts, the adequacy of which can be felt even today in sore muscles.  Muscles are supposed to feel this way after that kind of workout, though - climbing from 3800 to 6500 in elevation - and it is a good, healthy feeling as they go through the process of repairing and getting stronger, not unlike having run a hard race.

There is always a benefit to be gained in good cross-training, and Sunday's glorious hike - on the most perfect day I remember for climbing this mountain - was no exception.  This was my 27th climb to the top - just me and Martha (who is in GREAT shape) this time - and I hope it will not be my last. 

New Beginnings

It has been some time since I posted an entry to this blog, but with Fall on the way and a possible marathon on the horizon, I thought it would be instructive (for me at least, if not for the slim handful of friends who are followers of this intermittent blog) to begin again. 

Yes, there has been a touch of Fall in the air! - those cool temperatures a harbinger of good training days ahead, if only I can shake these annoying injuries of the past two weeks.  I had planned to run the Twilight 5-K in Highlands Saturday night and would have, despite the rain, except for an IT Band issue that seems to be more than just the usual niggle.  And then Friday I apparently stepped on a dead or dying bee while walking barefoot at home.  (Do they die lying on their backs, stinger pointed upward, just for the opportunity of that last dying blow?)   I thought they had all been killed last month when in desperation I fogged the upstairs bedroom with poison (after getting in bed one night and discovering one waiting for me there).  But this one must have survived, and hit the middle toe in my left foot, which swelled up so badly that I could barely pull on my boots.  I limped around all day Friday in increasingly excruciating pain, and Friday night found me applying ice most of the evening to reduce the swelling.  Thank God for a beesting that put the exclamation mark on my wavering decision not to run this race!

 !

Friday we are planning (weather permitting) to climb Mt. LeConte.  And next Monday, August 26, marks the beginning of yet another 16-week marathon training plan.  Once again to the summit!

A New Year

It has been almost eight weeks since my marathon, and finally the soreness and little niggles have (mostly) gone away.  No more excuses!  Yesterday was the last day of 2012 and I decided to run up Big Bearpen again - "Once More to the Summit!" - and it actually felt good to feel the strength returning to my legs.  And what a glorious day to climb Bearpen, with that singular view from the very top, the lakes of South Carolina gleaming along the horizon.  It is a summit of fitness, as well; after a marathon, a runner doubts he can ever ascend a mountain like this again, or run that far again, or run fast again.  But there I was, standing on the very top, giving thanks for recovery of my fitness.

Today was the first day of 2013 and we began it well with our annual New Year's Resolution Run.  Despite light rain, 16 of us showed up to begin the new year committed once again to running.

It's a clean slate!  Martha posted this on our little blackboard in the kitchen, where we take turns writing inspirational messages throughout the year.

"The future lies before you, like paths of pure white snow; 

be careful how you tread it, for every step will show."

It reminded me of that famous last Calvin & Hobbes cartoon:

And so I wrote, for this New Year:

"Let's Go Exploring!"