"Failure is not fatal, but failure to change might be." - John Wooden
Looking at my March Madness bracket, and then, at the actual results, it has taught me a couple of things. One is to let your son pay the ten bucks to get you in the pool ("What pool? What Tournament? I don't know nothing about any ten bucks"), and the other is that if you play it safe, it's probably going to bite you in the rear. I could have picked St Peter's, Alabama St., Texas-San Antonio, and Wofford, and done just as well. But, I was TRYING to avoid failure and picked Ohio St and Duke. Obviously, this didn't translate very well into seeking success. Let's get away from basketball...please...and see how this applies to running.
For many years, I've been hobbling around with progressively achy ankles, but have pushed on doing marathons and ultras and trying to keep my mileage up. After a race or long run, I would walk around like Quasimodo on a bad day, but that was the expected post-race Al-walk. At least I could still race (well, run anyway). As the years went by, I tried various fixes, always hoping that this was the magic that would get me over the hump and allow me run at a status quo, meaning keeping my marathon times fairly stable and also allow me to run the trail ultras. Now, let's get one thing straight. I absolutely HATE blogs where the writer goes on and on about some personal injury he has, and I am not going down that road, but hang with me for just a while. As my training times plummeted and my races became non-existent, and as I tried to find the running groove again, I couldn't quite figure it out - what the heck was going on? Even on days when pain and soreness wasn't that bad, I was still as slow as cold mollasses. Did I lose the desire to push? Did I forget how to run? My daily training times had been a gradual slowdown, but now those times had fallen off the Continental Shelf!
Then, about 2 weeks before the Mercedes Marathon, around the first of February, for no good reason, except that I was sitting on my rump too much, I developed some high hamstring pain (it certainly wasn't from all the speed work!!). In the "Do-as-I-say, not-as-I-do" vein, I ran the Mercedes (my first marathon in 2 years, so I was rested), which did a real job on the hammy. Again, skirting all the non-interesting details, I've tried to play it smart since Mercedes in trying to return my old hobbling self. I've come back slow and it is much improved. When I run with friends, I drop back. When I run alone, I want to beat myself silly about running 11' miles, but that's my pace, like it or not.
This past week, while running by myself, and feeling some better, I realized the phase of running that I'm in now. For decades, I ran to seek success on the roads and trails. Seeking success was defined by race times and the effort given. Also, the feeling that I was "red-lining it" in races and giving it what I felt was an honest effort to push during training runs. When you seek success, you go right to the dragon and stare failure in the center of it's eyes. As my superman body began to respond to my kryptonite ankles, I now realize I have been running for years to avoid failure, not seeking success. Not only am I not staring at the dragon, I'm not even entering his lair. In my case, failure was not being able to run anymore. I was terrified that I wouldn't be able to even "jog" comfortably. If you get good at avoiding failure, it becomes it's own goal. It's a good skill to have - it reduces the gremlins of running - but it's not what powers racing success. It scared the living daylights out of me to think I may not be able to run some day, so, in addition to having to slow down due to my physical restrictions, I also sub-consciously ratcheted back to where my left-sided brain wouldn't allow me to "take risks" with my running future. I think in other venues, it's called limiting your losses.
Back, about 2 years ago, I made a deal with God to just allow me to run and I wouldn't complain about the pace. Well, doggone it, He has held me to that deal, and although I waiver a bit, I am thankful to just run. Finishing Mercedes more than 2 hours slower than my PR was surprisingly a huge thrill for me, because it meant long distance running was still part of me. Being able to run slowly on a non-technical trail is not the gut-wrenching climb next to a waterfall it once was, but it is where I find the most peace in my favorite form of running. I can still run to the sunrise, and you know what? The sun doesn't care about my pace.
Now, looking at it a little more clearly, I have crested a mountain that on one side of it has you pushing, taking risks, and knowing that stretching this rope may cause it to snap and hurtle you into failure. But, on the other side, you take the safer route so that what was once failure has a totally different meaning. So, maybe I have my definitions wrong...Sometimes avoiding failure IS seeking success and my success is just getting out there and running.
I may be way back there, but, thank goodness, I'll see you all on the roads - AL
"One child lost is too many...one child saved can change the world"
" A heckuva lot better than being the shortest player in the minor leagues." -
Freddie Patek, Kansas City Royals 5'4" infielder, on how it feels to be the shortest player in the major leagues.
Sometimes when I write this blog, words just flow out of my fingers and when I finish, I look at the post and say "wow, where did that come from?". But, as Satchel Paige once said, "Sometimes I sits and thinks, and sometimes I just sits". So, without a definite theme rattling around in my head, I think I'll just jump in the pool and see what happens.
Last week, at the Oak Mountain 50k, it was Africa-hot, and I have to hand it to the 89 runners that hung in there to the finish. We had about 14 DNF's, but in that heat, I would have expected a bushel load more. Working the dual aid station at miles 14.5 & 26.1, I had a great time being in the middle of it all. I am always amazed and rewarded by how grateful most runners seem to be towards the volunteers during the race. The thank-you's they throw around are so genuine and you both know it has become a team effort - sorta like a NASCAR team of the driver and the pit crew. To give you an idea of what can happen to the best of them in the heat, Vince Molesky came out of the woods in first place at 26.1 miles and looked strong with just 5.8 miles of mostly downhill to go to the finish. SEVENTEEN minutes later, Birmingham's own Owen Bradley emerged at the aid station. We told him how much he was behind. He grabbed some drink and off he went back to the woods seemingly for a 2nd place finish. Well, the Fat Lady hadn't quite burped up her song yet, because Owen caught a rapidly sinking Vince with a half mile to go and won in 5:01! That is incredible to make up that amount of time in less than 6 miles. Congrats Owen.
Speaking of volunteering, let me give you an example of how low my running life has fallen. Now that I know my Boston Marathon qualifying days are over, I decided to volunteer for this year's race. After all, all of the race volunteers get neat jackets FREE, and if there's one thing I definitely need, it's more gear. So I wrote the Volunteer Director an email, explained that I was from out-of-state, but had run the race 5 times and would now like to "give back" (like the jacket had nothing to do with it!). Yeah, c'mon, just fill out the online form and thanks for volunteering. I put the finish line as where I wanted to work, picturing myself putting a mylar blanket around Shalane Flannigan or Kara Goucher!!! Well, here's a kick in the pants - yesterday I got a letter from the BAA that said they had more volunteer applications than they had slots...thanks for your interest...try again next year...see ya!! Not only can I not qualify to run the race, I can't even qualify to be a frickin' volunteer!! Holy Crow. I used to be somebody. I was having flashbacks to some of my college rejection letters. Oh well, guess I can't be too sad - I'm still visiting my family in Boston, will get to run the morning of the race, then walk the half mile or so from my son's house to the 23 mile mark and yell at Ken to get his butt in gear, stop whining, and get to the finish line before the third wave catches him.
This week begins baseball season. Although it is something very special to me, here in the southeastern portion of the US, baseball season is just a filler between Spring Football and Fall Football. I don't outwardly argue that logic...it's bigger than all of us...but it makes me sad to see that, just like all other sports, baseball has been reduced to a pure business, much more than a game. We don't root for players anymore, we root for the shirts that the faceless players wear. But, as clear as yesterday, I remember a day in probably 1955 or 1956, that my father took me to my first baseball game at New York's Polo Grounds, home of his beloved Giants. As we walked through the concourse towards the entrance to our section, I was almost hyperventilating with excitement. When we emerged into the sunlight and could see the field below, I still remember vividly how incredibly green the grass was. And I remember the sharp contrast of the uniforms of the team the Giants were playing because they were lined with a brilliant red - the Cardinals? The Reds? The Phillies? Don't remember that. For a short period, every season renews that excitement and those memories of days way gone past. I don't love baseball like I did back then, but I sure do love to think about when I did. Play ball!
Talk about an athlete. While running this morning, I was listening to a podcast (yes, when I run alone, I'm plugged in...except on the trail) that reported that Lance Armstrong was seriously considering doing the Hawaii Ironman this October. Supposedly, he's swimming times that would place him in the top 10-12, obviously the biking leg wouldn't be a problem (really??), and he has Alberto Salazar coaching his running. He's told Alberto that if he can get his marathon time down to 2:30 without that swimming and biking stuff, he thinks he could do a 2:50 in Kona! You gotta love it. I do.
Ok folks, that's about it for jumping around this week. Not much substance, but thanks for sticking with me during my blogger's block. I intentionally didn't mention the current state of my basketball bracket, but I honestly believe a blind monkey throwing darts at a blank bracket would be doing better than me. Hope you all have a great week and I'll see you on the roads - AL
"One child lost is too many...one child saved can change the world"
"One does not discover new lands without consenting to lose sight of the shore for a very long time." - Andre Gide
A few years ago, due to nursing balky ankles, I reluctantly broke my streak of running our local Oak Mountain 50K Trail Run at 7 years, and to be sure I didn't get any late, crazy thoughts, I volunteered to work it. Despite twangs of pain at not actually running, I loved being in the middle of it all and being able to assist my fellow ultrarunners complete their goals, and I've wound up volunteering at the race for the past 4 years. You know, we as runners are excellent folks to be volunteering because we understand what the runners are thinking, or just acknowledging the fact that they might not be thinking too clearly at all, and because of that, we can make their run much more enjoyable and improving the chances of them reaching the finish line that much more attainable. When a runner comes staggering out of the woods at 25 miles and I ask, "what can I get you?" and he just stares blankly at me, I know I better take charge and tell Mr Fatigue what he needs...get some shade, drink some sugar, eat some carbs, pray to St Christopher, etc - and make sure he doesn't sit too long if he wants to finish - BEWARE THE CHAIR!! By having been on the other end of the "What do you need?" scenario, I know how invaluable a knowledgeable volunteer can be. You have to recognize which runners are well in control of their race and let them dictate EXACTLY what they want - no friendly recommendations needed or wanted from this runner. It's helping the middle to back-of-the-pack runner that makes volunteering so rewarding. They say a good referee should just about be invisible, and I guess that's how it should be for a race volunteer - the runner should only have to worry about running.
When we run a race (it doesn't matter what length), we have this mindset that everything just magically appears - registration, aid stations, drinks, course markings, police, finish line timers, etc, but you really need to volunteer to get a feel of all the "behind-the-scenes" activity that takes place. You'll be surprised how all those aid stations get stocked, how all the course markings find their way to the right place, or how all the trash magically disappears. It's hard work done well before the race begins and unfinished till long after the last finisher crosses the line.
I'm writing this post on Friday night and tomorrow is this year's edition of the Oak Mountain 50k. The prediction is for close to 80 degrees. Not a good thing. The runners will run and want to finish, sometimes at the expense of better judgment. Having been in many hot marathons and ultras, I know how the mind can play tricks and muck up a sound decision making process. However, because of this, I also know what signs to look for in a runner that's in trouble and will do all I can to be sure this runner does no harm to himself. My ultra role has changed, but through volunteering, I still have a strong connection to the ultra band of runners. If you want to volunteer for a race, just give the race director a call and I'm sure he'll snap you up (with a big smile).
OK, so in addition to the Oak Mountain 50k going on, March Madness has begun and I'm watching basketball for purely entertainment purposes only. My bracket, which two days ago seemed to be perfect when I set it up, now resembles something from a new movie called "The Anti-Bracket". It looks like some hillbilly took a shotgun to it and blasted holes in it. I'm now asking myself if I really understood that the object was to pick the WINNERS of the games, and not the losers! Guess I'll just sit back and hope one of these little schools can keep it interesting and knock off some of the fat cat schools along the way. I'm still not sure what game my UAB Blazers were playing the other night (they certainly didn't know either!!). I guess one and out is better than zero and out.
One last, sad note this week. The Birmingham running community has lost one of it's pillars from the formative days. Bill Gates was a good friend of mine back in the old days of the 70's. He was a stellar track runner in High School and at Livingston University, but to all of us that ran with him, Bill was crazy, amazingly funny, always laughing, but most of all, he was one of those folks that you could count on as a true, genuine friend. And man, what a runner. One weekend, he ran the Vulcan 10k in 33 minutes and came back the next day and ran the Vulcan Marathon in 2:36! He was the first person I knew to run 50 miles in a race - how could anyone go THAT far? Every year, Bill would volunteer at the top of Peavine Falls for the July 4th race. After you'd climb for close to 4 miles, Bill would be there laughing and handing out water, encouraging you to begin your 4 mile descent. On a personal note, I feel good knowing that tomorrow, I will be volunteering at exactly that same spot during the 50K. We'll miss you Bill.
Hope you all have a great weekend, and I'll see you on the roads - AL
"One child lost is too many...one child saved can change the world"
"When you think far, think really far" - the quote on my Road ID that I wear on EVERY run
Everyone has fantasies. No, not that kind of fantasy. I mean the kind that comes across your mind every once in a while, and you say "I know it's impossible, but I'd like to try that". It is something that's on the outer fringes of reality. Climb Mt. Everest, swim the English Channel, travel the world, train to be an astronaut. You know, it's there,but it's not really. It's not some wild-hair crazy out-of-universe idea, just one that a lot of "ifs & buts" get in the way.
Back when I was piling on the mileage, one of my fantasies was to run across America. I had no idea how I would do it. I had a job and a family, but the fascination has always been there as long as I've been a runner. When I worked at Cooper Green Hospital back in the 70's, I had a big map of the United States over my desk. At the beginning of the year, I would put a push pin in Birmingham and another someplace else; Seattle, San Francisco, Maine, etc. Every week, I would add up my weekly mileage and move the pin the appropriate distance towards my goal. I would even check the weather reports for where I "was" to add some more pseudo reality to my journey. Once, I began a 3 year trek around the perimeter of the United States - not sure if I ever finished that one. Back then, I was doing 2500-3000 miles per year, so I could "go" pretty far.
Reading about prodigious endurance events has always intrigued me, and books about running across America twangs a special string. About 20-25 years ago, I bought a book titled "Meditations From The Breakdown Lane: Running Across America" by James Shapiro. With a few maps and some clothes stuffed into a backpack, he covered 3086 miles from Dillon Beach, California to New York City in 80 days. That's an average of 37 miles per day. Looking back on it now, with all the "look-at-me" long distance headline grabbers going on seemingly every week, it doesn't carry the HOLY COW punch it did a quarter of a century ago. But, this journey by Mr. Shapiro fit right into my fantasy. He did the whole trip virtually unassisted. There were two stretches out west where it was too far between points of civilization to go it alone, so a support vehicle aided him, but other than that, it was him and the wide open spaces. To me, the book was fascinating and during all my push-pin long distance runs, it served as a fantasy reference book in hopes that one day I could actually plan such a trip. That's part of a fantasy - it's right there on the edge of reality.
Then, few years ago, I was in Huntsville to run the Mt. Mist 50K Trail Run and ran into an old friend, David Horton. David is from Virginia and I first met him a few years back when he would come down for our annual Birmingham Track Club 50 Mile Run. Well, David is a humble ultra-runner extraordinaire and he has performed many long distance feats that place him with the very best in our sport. Along the way, David has lived my fantasy - TWICE! In 1991, he set out to accomplish a new record for the fastest traversing of the entire length of the Appalachian Trail. The old record was 60.5 days to cover the 2144 miles. David ran from Push-pin #1 (Springer Mountain in Georgia) to Push-pin #2 ( Mt Katahdin in Maine) in 52 days, 9 hours, taking a week off the old record! He wrote a book that described his challenge titled "A Quest for Adventure". In it, he describes how he ran over 40 miles per day over very rough terrain to reach his goal, despite having no running partner. My fantasy has nothing to do with speed, but I envy the "here-to-there".
I said David lived my fantasy twice and the Appalachian Trail run was only half of the story, and only half of the book mentioned above. The second half takes us to 1995, when David, obviously having completely forgotten about the pain of the AT adventure, entered the Trans America Footrace. Folks, this is a 2906 mile race from California to New York! They run 64 days in a row, each day consisting of a stage of a set distance, averaging 45 miles! No days off, no whining, no bands at every mile, no nothing except getting up every morning and running another ultramarathon. When it was all said and run, David finished in third place in 449 hours and 26 minutes...an average of 9:16/mile!
Fantasies, hopes, dreams. They're all out there and they're there for us to deal with individually. James Shapiro and David Horton happened to to have the same running fantasy I had. The difference is they crossed that chasm to reality. Do I feel envious? Of course I do. Do I feel they somehow took a little away from my fantasy? Not in the least. I salute them both, and thank them for writing about their journeys. When I read their books, I can run with them and my unreachable quest has become just a little bit more believable.
Wherever they take you, I'll see you on the roads - AL
"One child lost is too many...one child saved can change the world"
"Only those who will risk going too far can possibly find out how far one can go."
- César Chávez
One of the joys of running is that, unlike other hobbies or other physical activities, when you go out of town, you can just put on your running shoes and off you go. Whenever I travel, I always look forward to getting up early the following morning and going for a run to see what I can see and find what I can find. There's no schedule to follow, no pace to run, no watch to keep track of. All I've got to do is go forward and try to remember my way back to the hotel.
As most of you know, I love baseball, so I'll usually see how close the I'm staying to the local ball park. Doesn't matter if it's the major league or the minor league - I just find fascination running around baseball parks. If there's none available, I'll settle for football stadiums, arenas, or college campuses. The "Holy Grail" of the ballpark runs is to find an open gate so I can run inside and see the field. I'm like a kid - "see the field before I get caught". Domed stadiums are the worst - they're never open! I all my trips to see Adam (my grandson) and my family in Boston, I have never penetrated Fenway Park. BUT, the search for the Holy Grail of Holy Grails is far from over!
But most of my "finds" are totally unplanned once read a book titled "Outside Lies Magic" about the loads of sites and sounds most folks never see they're closed up in their cars speeding from place A to place B. The author (John Stilgoe) urges you to walk or cycle to discover a whole new world (or rediscover an old one). Well, Mr. Stilgoe is apparently not a runner, but through running I have "accidentally" run upon some sites and sounds that made me so glad that I am a runner.
Many years ago, I was in Seattle, and early one morning I went through an open gate to what I thought might be a park. There was no one there and after running for a few minutes, I realized I was at the site of the old World's Fair! Just me and these many venues, sculptures, and exhibits. And let's not forget the Space Needle...and me...and nobody else! How cool was that?
In Tennessee, I found myself at a Confederate cemetery. It's humbling to see a hundred tombstones with basically the same dates (birth and death).
In my home state of New Jersey, while I was visiting my sisters, I went out for just an innocent jog, and was suddenly thrust into a sea of memories. I found myself on a street that I had lived on when I was maybe 5 years old and had long forgotten. I had some vague recollections of the area, but running down the road hit me like a 2X4. I found my house, my best friend's house, and places we used to play. Of course, everything was smaller than I remembered it. It was like my own private episode of the Twilight Zone.
In Dallas, I was running by myself early one AM down some solitary road when I was passed by the entire 15 person 7-11 cycling team. Us old cyclists remember the 7-11 team as a pretty big deal in the mid 80's. This was America's Team at the Tour de France and all the big races. I had no idea they were in Dallas training (and they probably had no idea I was in Dallas either!).
In Alaska, I ran the Midnight Sun Marathon and then stayed there for another week. During that week, I would awaken every morning and run down the the beautiful trails (fortunately forgetting there might be bears down these beautiful trails). One morning, I was running down a single track trail next to a stream, and up ahead came two bald eagles flying directly towards me over the water. I just stopped in awe as they flew not more than 10 feet above my head. Just magnificent!
I don't like to run on the beach, but one foggy morning in Oregon, the tide was out and the shore was perfectly flat, hard packed, and 200 yards wide. That was a wonderful 10 miler.
In Victoria, British Columbia, I just happened upon a large stone monument that had etched on it "Transcontinental Highway Mile 0". Visions of running the 3000 miles to the Atlantic enticed me, but I had to get back to the hotel for breakfast.
Bermuda has it's paved-over railroad beds that run the length of the island, Rhode Island has it's 300 year old college campuses, and in New Orleans, the very early morning French Quarter is quite different from the one the average visitor has seen.
Yes, I've been around the block, but thank goodness, a lot of it has been in my running shoes, because truly, Outside Lies Magic. I'll see you on the roads - AL
"One child lost is too many...one child saved can change the world"
"The past is a foreign country. They do things differently there." - unknown
How many articles have I read and how many times have I heard "Running is so simple. Just put on some shorts and shoes and go.". Now that I run a lot slower, I have much more time to think, and I was thinking about this the other day. Yeah, sure, when I began running, I'd throw on any old cotton t-shirt, a pair of gym shorts, some cotton socks, a pair of shoes and hit the UAB track. Those shoes were Puma something-or-other that I really did purchase at Walmart. I think they matched my shorts, so they were the right shoes for me. These shoes would practically last me the whole first year I ran. It was pretty simple.
So, back in 1978, there was only one Running Shoe store in Birmingham, and that was Versal Spaulding's Running South. OK, it really wasn't a store, but an old garage in which you walked into and there were stacks of shoe boxes going up all the walls. He had several folding metal chairs, the most personable smile, and a knowledge of running shoes that we didn't even know was necessary. Well, two things occurred at the same time - I happened to treat Versal's wife in my PT clinic (and she got well), and my beloved Walmart Puma's had given me a rip-roaring case of plantar fasciitis. So, Versal got me down to his store and gave me a pair of my first "real" pair of running shoes - Nike Elites. When I put them on, they fit like gloves that were made just for me. I couldn't believe how soft and comfortable these were compared to my concrete Pumas. Unfortunately, these Elites were on the opposite side of the Bell Curve of stability (as in none), so they didn't help the plantar fasciitis, but they did make me take that fork in the road that traveled towards the slippery slope of running technology.
Through the many years, I humorously weaved through the evolution of running gear that at the time was like "the future is now". I remember how excited my neighbor was when he "discovered" this miracle running suit that was supposedly water resistant. I remember two things - 1) it was called Gamex, and 2) it didn't matter if it was water resistant...you sweated so much wearing it that it stuck to your skin like Saran Wrap. It definitely wasn't water resistant on the inside. Gamex didn't last long.
Then came the miracle running fabrics that "wicked" the sweat from your skin as you ran. Polypropylene was the first I remember about 1980. I recall there was a store called Athlete's Foot and they were the first to sell this. Well, one week, they had a Gambler's Sale where every day the price of items would drop another 10% or so. I went the first day, found a Polypro shirt in my size, and stuck it in the back of the women's shorts so it couldn't be found. I went back 5 days later and picked it out of my secret hiding place and got it for 70% off! Not a great story, but 30 years later, it's still fresh in my mind, so either I'm proud of my cunning, or still guilty from bending the rules. Anyway, I can't say Polypro really kept you dry, but I was convinced I was wearing a miracle, so ofcourse I was running faster. And running shirts would never be the same.
I can never forget the first digital Casio chronogragh I had. It had a metal silver band, could hold 10 splits, and a one-run memory. Yep, 1981 and I'm running the Marathon Marathon (named after the Oil Company) in Indiana. At about mile 18, I'm sweating up a pretty good storm, look down at my watch, and it's literally shorting out right before my eyes. Not sparks and smoke, but all the numbers looked like some alien dashboard. Then the whole thing went blank. I guess it was water resistant to a depth of skin sweat! Ever since, watches have been almost a fetish of mine. Do I really need a watch that tells me the difference of altitude from my first floor living room to my upstairs bedroom?
Once, I ordered a Gore-tex hat (!) from a running magazine. The hat cost $10 and the shipping was $12. To this day, I have no earthly idea why anyone would need a Gore-tex hat.
I've gone through a couple of Heart monitors. Never could get it quite right because I never could quite accurately figure out what my maximal heart rate was, which is a very integral part of the idea of a heart monitor. It just was a constant novelty on my wrist that told me my current heart rate that I never really had any idea if it was good or bad. I guess I got my greatest enjoyment out of it by seeing how low it would go before an early morning run...not to see if I was in shape, just to say "hey, 44, cool". By the way, I now have an app on my phone that gives me my pulse and I do the same exact thing in the morning!!
Yeah, running is real simple. Shoes, shorts, go! The whole idea for this post came about two weeks ago as I was laying out my clothes the night before the Mercedes Marathon:
Dri-release shorts (short or long?)
Windbreifs
Coolmax socks (thick or thin?)
Thin long sleeve dri-release top (decision was set because I was a Pacer)
Hat (oh man, the statement decsions to be made here)
Ankle supports (one or two layers?)
ID bracelet (so if I get hit by a car in the middle of 6000 runners, the medics know who I am)
Garmin GPS watch (so I know how far 26.2 miles is)
The RIGHT pair of shoes ( I rotate two)
Gloves or no gloves. Favorites or throwaways? HotHands?
Compression socks (the newest addition to the Running Managerie)
And this doesn't touch on what to wear TO the race, or what to pack to wear AFTER the race. And this is a local marathon!!
I can't imagine how complicated life must be for triathletes!
OK, folks, that's it from RWA Central this week. I have to go lay out my clothes for tomorrow morning's run. Supposed to be cold and that means layers, so I need extra time to think about this. I'll see you on the roads - AL
"One child lost is too many...one child saved can change the world"
"Dead Last Finish is greater than Did Not Finish which greatly trumps Did Not Start" - on a marathon t-shirt
What a week! Winter got confused and the temperature is hitting 70 this week, baseball spring training is under way, and ol' AL, for the first time in 2 years, finally finished another marathon!!
Yes, I put a lot of mental eggs into this basket. A year ago, I probably wouldn't have given myself a snowball's chance in hell to finish another marathon. I mean, it wasn't like I got some serious health problem, or fell off a cliff, or gained 100 pounds, I just have had a lot of birthdays and a lot of miles in my feet, and instead of my ankle joints gliding like glass rubbing on glass, I had sandstone rubbing on sandstone. My running went from trying to qualify for Boston (more on that timely subject later) one year, to struggling to get under 10 minute miles the next...then 10:15...then 10:30...and so on. I still had the marathoner's mind, just not the wheels. I had to give up my coaching the TNT group after 15 years, and had my first calendar year since 1979 that I didn't run a marathon. I ran about 20-25 miles on good weeks and didn't put in one 20 mile run in 2010. All of a sudden, writing "The Non-runner's Guide to Marathon Training" seemed in my future. Through all the stretching, grunting, limping, Aleve, ice and whatnot, I always still felt I wanted to pace with the 5 hour group at the Mercedes Marathon and that was my comeback marathon goal. I have paced every year since year #2 (out of 10), although my effort was aborted at mile 15 last year, and I desperately wanted to finish this year.
As the Pace Team Director, one of the advantages is to place the volunteer pacers at the times I think they are needed. So, as I did last year, I deftly placed Marie Bartoletti from Pittsburgh to be the other 5 hour pacer. Now Marie has done 197 marathons and ultras and has also tacked on a couple of Ironman races and cycling adventures. What she spelled to me was my insurance in case I had to bail out again, I knew she was gold to get our group in.
Last weekend on race day, God smiled on Birmingham and gave us the most beautiful day to run. It was 30 at the start and warmed to 60 by the early afternoon. No wind, low humidity. There were a little over 6000 in the race (marathon, half, and relay) and we had about a dozen in our pacing group. I won't go into the details of the race itself, but we paced evenly and a core of 5-7 runners stayed together. One of the runners, Veronica, has been battling ITB problems the last 6-8 weeks, but has been showing up every Sunday at our training runs, having to cut a few runs short. She has (stubbornly) ignored my pleas that she change from the full marathon to the half. So, at about 14 miles, her knee began to complain enough to cause her to slow down. Now, also at this point, my ankles are not screaming, but slowing down was not voted down by internal registered voters. So, I decided if Veronica was going to gut it out, she'd have her coach by her side to watch for potholes (actual and mental). She hurt on the downhills, I hurt on the uphills, so we were a perfect non-match. Marie got her roadies in right at 4:59, and me and Veronica crossed the finish line in 5:09. She was ecstatic to finish her first - I was as ecstatic to finish my 129th. I really didn't know if I was going to last 26 miles when we lined up, and now it's a good feeling to know I can once again say I run marathons without the verbal rope-a-dope. Whether you run it in 2 hours or 6 hours, 26.2 miles is a long way. Congratulations to all of you that finished the marathon, and the half marathon. As I said to Ken after the race "I'm back in the saddle again but I'm not eager to get back in the saddle again".
Before I close this week's edition of RWA, I have to comment on the Boston Marathon once again making the throngs of would-be BM runners spit up. Essentially, due to the warp-speed that the 20,000 slots filled up this year (8 hours), something had to be done. Now, before I give my opinion, you have to realize that this is from a view that I have run 5 Bostons and have qualified 6 times AND the fact that now Grandma Moses has a better chance of qualifying than I do. Essentially, for the 2012 race, Boston is opening the registration process on a "rolling admission"...faster qualifiers get to register first. Then, for the 2013 race and beyond, the rolling admission remains PLUS all qualifying times are reduced by 5 minutes PLUS they are dropping the "59 second lifeline". This meant if you were running for a certain BQ time, say 4:00, you could run a 4:00:59 and that time would count. No more! So, is all this unfair? Of course not. Boston is one of the most prestigious races in the world and one of only two that you have to qualify for (the Olympics being the other). It shouldn't be easy. They can set any rules they want to. Where it is unfair is that they are changing the rules mid-stream. Say you barely qualified by a minute at Chicago in the fall. So, now you've been doing fast-finger intervals so you'll be ready to hit the computer when registration opens next September. Then Bingo! - you have to wait till the SEVENTH day of registration to even have a prayer of getting in! You can't change it to TWO STRIKES AND YOU'RE OUT after you're in the batter's box! It's not first down and 15 yards to go after the kickoff. If you want an elite field of very fast runners (along with few doctors and charity runners), that's fine. But if Jane Doe busts her butt reaching the qualifying standards by the rules you set, don't kick her in that same butt because now you want to change those rules. If Tom, Dick, and Harry meet the standards, they should proceed with the same restrictions they KNEW before qualifying (not being fast enough on the computer). C'mon Boston, show a little more class. You can see the changes at www.baa.org
OK guys, that's all from sunny and warm Birmingham for this week. We will continue to be at Brownell every Sunday at 6:30AM. Now that the temp has gone up, there should be much less whining from the group (ok, from me!). I'll see you all on the roads - AL
"One child lost is too many...one child saved can change the world"
