Many thoughts and feelings enter my mind when I think back just a couple of weeks to the Chicago Marathon. Still, there is some disappointment that the running/weather Gods did not find it within their collective hearts to show mercy on my soul, allowing the searing, unrelenting heat to not-so-slowly but ever surely to broil my mojo to a crisp. Still, I am undeterred.
Prior to running Chicago, I was already committed to and registered for the Inaugural Charleston Marathon on January 15, 2011. For months now, I have been registered for the Spinx Runfest Half Marathon... or so I thought. In checking my registration late last week, I noticed I was registered for the Full Marathon. Well then...
Sure, the race director was quick to offer to knock me down to the Half Marathon, but... I just couldn't do it. Somehow, a quick and fleeting sense of clarity in that special way that normally only affects great artists, geniuses and speed chess players brought me to the decision to run the Full.
Sure, recovery from Chicago is still ongoing, to some degree, although I will say that I feel good - both mentally and physically. Part of it, I believe, is retribution. I voluntarily left everything I had on the streets of Chicago.
The Spinx Marathon, aside from being just a mere couple of minutes from my front door, offers the opportunity to continue to learn about myself, in the whole sense, as well as in the marathoning sense. My goal for this race is simple and two fold: Finish and treat it like a long slow day. Not all races, I have slowly learned, have to be raced.
I continue to be amazed where running has taken me, the people with whom I have been so incredibly fortunate to spend time.
This weekend will be another step down that path. Here's to hoping the weather is a bit better.
Share the ride.
25 October 2010
I almost forgot...
In closing this chapter of running for 2010, I nearly forgot to post the ceremonial post-marathon medal-with-beer picture. So, without further delay:
I have a feeling there will be another picture, similar to this, posted within a few days time.
Share the ride.
14 October 2010
Race Report - 2010 Chicago Marathon
The shoes unlaced, race bib put up, soreness leaving. The 2010 Chicago Marathon took me on a roller coaster ride of emotions and a wide spectrum of physical conditions. The 2010 Chicago Marathon helped me learn a great deal about myself as a runner, marathoner and a person.
As a whole, the Chicago Marathon experience was stellar. From the Expo to the course to the post-race resources, the entire deal was top notch. I truly enjoyed finally meeting the other Chicago Marathon Online Diarists as well. A truly great group of people and a wonderful cross section of the running community as a whole.
Chicago is a beautiful city, filled with amazing architecture and history. As you undoubtedly know by now, I was also rather enamored with the food culture of the fine city of Chicago as well as its great local haunts for pints of Chicago's finest ales. Visits to such mainstays as Lou Malnati’s, Al’s Italian Beef, Gino’s East, Garrett’s Popcorn and Goose Island Brewpub made the Chicago experience that much better. But back to the matter at hand…
The morning of the marathon was met with some trepidation. I knew temperatures would be "higher" than initially anticipated, but few knew what would be in store. With a start temp of about 60 degrees though, I felt comfortable enough with my training and abilities to make my top goal of 4:22 happen. As the runners started and made their way through the Start, I slowly began to realize what was ahead. This was going to be a big day.
The morning started off well enough. Temps were right at 60 degrees and the sun slowly began to rise with the hopes of a triumph on this day. After a good luck hug and kiss from my wife, I made my way down to the start area… the 15 minute walk did me some good, shaking out some early morning nerves. The air felt good, although not the crisp and cool air I had been hoping for or remembered at MCM last year. Not surprisingly, I was not the first into the “open” corral. Nevertheless, I found a place and settled in. This, I truly believed, was going to be awesome.
The corrals all filled quickly. Random strangers making comments about the weather, possible concerns, race goals, anything you can imagine to anyone and everyone who would listen. Anxiety was clear.
By 7:30 a.m., there was nothing left to do other than the simplest thing a human being can do… RUN.
The emotion and grandeur of the start of the Chicago Marathon is hard to put into words. Running down Columbus Drive and under the bridge, hearing the screaming voices, U2’s “Beautiful Day” blaring over the loud system. Amazing.
Before I know it, I am in a rhythm. My goal for this race was a simple one to track: 4:22 or 10:00 minutes per mile. The early portions of the race, through the heart of the city, were fantastic. Slight rolls in terrain here and there but, by and large pancake flat. My splits were good. No, great. By the half way mark, I was at 2:11:31 – a hair over where I wanted to be, but still well within striking distance and I still felt strong. I was lucky enough to catch a glimpse of my amazingly supportive wife at the half way point. That could not have come at a better time. I lost only a little time through the 25K mark.
By 30K, the sun was fully up and blazing. No more skyscrapers to shield the sun’s strength-sapping rays. I stopped, felt sick, and pulled off to the side. Not thinking about 4:22 any longer, my thoughts went very, very dark. My mind hurt, my heart hurt. My soul hurt. In sum, things were not going well. The notion of waiving down med staff came into my mind. But… I… couldn’t…
About 100 feet ahead of me, I see a female runner, pacing me, slow down, stop, wobble and collapse in the span of about 5 seconds. Medical staff were to her side quickly. Sobering, beyond belief.
I stammered on. Miles 20 through 26 were a mix of slow running, some walking, and a great deal of cramping, despite hitting every single water stop on the course. Survival was my goal. And I was not going to die to be victorious on this day. It just was not a day for me to hit a 4:22. I could live with that.
Crowd support for this event was, to say the least, outstanding and virtually non-stop. Without that, it is difficult to say how I would have fared on this day.
With 800 meters left, seemingly every leg muscle cramped, I wanted to finish strong – make that, as strong as possible anyway. In the distance, I see a flag waving. Largely insignificant to 95% of the runners on the course, it was the Flag of Bavaria, Germany – where our family is from. The strength I pull from my late Uncle, with whom I shared amazing times and a stunning visit to Germany cannot be understated. Losing him to metastatic prostate cancer a couple of years back has been both a point of deep sadness, still, as well as a source of strength to move forward. Seeing the “Blau und Weiss” flying in the distance made my thoughts shift to that place. True, dark as those thoughts were at the time, there was NO way I was not going to finish and finish STRONG.
Thinking back to what my late Uncle used to say: "If you are not progressing, you are regressing", I kept moving forward. The final left turn made, the Finish in sight, cruise control set… We are coming in for a landing – albeit a rough one. Mugging it for the cameras, finishing upright, all victories today. Space blanket, medal, water, banana. All of these were great things. Sadly, all I wanted was to get out of the sun. The long mile-long walk back up Columbus to our hotel was painful, filled with pauses for possible nausea, pauses filled with massive cramping, and bouts of quick, flaring emotion. Proud yet sad and disappointed. It was strange. The hug from my wife outside our hotel seemed to give me some of my long lost strength back. I was not “human” again. Not yet, anyway.
After an hour of so of lying around in our hotel room with my legs in the air, drinking any kind of liquid I could find, I cleaned up and my wife and I went out to a great little bar, Dublin’s, for a burger/beer celebratory meal. A great day, ended with whom and in the manner I would not have better prescribed.
Chicago Marathon taught me a great deal. For one, you cannot control everything. When it comes to marathons, you can control even less. My training, or so I felt, put me in a position to be successful. Little did I know, on this day, that it would take me about 23 minutes longer to achieve that success. Running – and marathoning – for me, are hardly about times and all that comes with that. Sure, I want to improve. I think that is a reasonable expectation for anyone taking on this endeavor. What I found, despite the trials, traps and darkness along the way was a sense of self within the greater whole of it all. I knew I was a marathoner. What I did not know was to what lengths I would have been willing to go to be that very thing. MCM in 2009 was not this drama-filled. Chicago Marathon 2010 made it clear to me just where my heart and soul lie. Running has, in fact, saved my life. The best way I can give it the respect due is to be the absolute best I can and give what I have on that day. That day, 10 October 2010, I left it out there and then some. Time could have been better. Headaches could have been less. In the end, it was about something so much more.
21 March 2010
Long Time Gone
While it has been some time since I have written here, the song remains the same. Running, running and more running. That, work and occasionally something resembling sleep has made up the vast majority of my life of late. Not that there is a single thing wrong with that.
The remainder of 2010 is getting rather booked. Coming up is the Lehigh Valley Half Marathon (April 25th), Chicago Marathon (October 10th) and Spinx Half Marathon (October 31st). Under serious consideration is one more marathon before the end of 2010 with Thunder Road (Charlotte, NC) and Rocket City (Huntsville, AL) vying for my registration fees. Both are on the same weekend in December.
Even 2011 is getting some attention. Marathons such as Snickers (Albany, GA), Big Sur (Monterey, CA), Grandma's (Duluth, MN), Marine Corps (Arlington, VA) and Philadelphia are on my radar. It is so preliminary right now, but it is rather fun to consider the possibilities.
The remainder of 2010 is getting rather booked. Coming up is the Lehigh Valley Half Marathon (April 25th), Chicago Marathon (October 10th) and Spinx Half Marathon (October 31st). Under serious consideration is one more marathon before the end of 2010 with Thunder Road (Charlotte, NC) and Rocket City (Huntsville, AL) vying for my registration fees. Both are on the same weekend in December.
Even 2011 is getting some attention. Marathons such as Snickers (Albany, GA), Big Sur (Monterey, CA), Grandma's (Duluth, MN), Marine Corps (Arlington, VA) and Philadelphia are on my radar. It is so preliminary right now, but it is rather fun to consider the possibilities.
23 November 2009
Be a participant
It can be easy to get lost in the hectic nature of every day life to the extent that Self Care becomes an afterthought. We have choices. Every day of our lives, we have choices. Granted, there is not one single choice with regard to our Self Care that will make or break our journey. Rather, it is the body of work that will tell the tale with regard to your efforts in being a better person, inside and out. Yes, it is easy to get lost. Remember though, you have choices. You can choose to be a spectator, a racer, or a participant. You can be an active part of your own life, an active character in your own story, and the leader of your own Self Care journey.
When I started running, about six (6) years ago, I quickly got caught up in speed. My desire in races to beat as many people as possible was my utmost goal. That vibe quickly permeated other areas to the extent that each training run had to be faster than the one before in order to avoid the feeling of failure. My desire to reach my goal in the fastest possible way, regardless of what I needed to do to get there or how it negatively affected my big picture Self Care plan, got in the way of my true goal... to be better. Instead, I became a "racer". The goal was clear, but I completely overlooked the amazing things there were to see, experience, and learn along the way.
Of course, you can certainly choose to do nothing. That, of course, is the easiest thing to do. Sitting by, passively, and observing others working, striving towards a better, higher quality life is a simple thing to do. There is little effort involved and there is no risk of failure resulting from your efforts. On the other hand, knowing you have the ability to affect change in your life, in a positive way, and be a stronger and more resolute person is empowering the degree to which I am not sure I could accurately put into words. Time constraints and other obligations are fine excuses. In the grand scheme, your health - your Self Care - is the most important thing to you when it comes to how you take care of yourself on a daily basis - in the hopes of living a better life.
Being a participant - an active player in the game of life - YOUR life - allows you the luxury to call the shots on which directions you take with your Self Care. This would seem to be the easiest of the three options. Yet it is so easy sometimes to get caught up in the tunnel vision that is our end goal, whether it is a goal weight, goal race, or whatever have you. Being a participant includes taking in all that your journey has to offer, including all of the auxiliary experiences, ups and downs, trials and tribulations. No one said it would be easy and, in reality, Self Care is not easy. It is a devotion of time and effort and an uncanny sense of honesty to yourself. Just knowing however that you hold the ability to make change and pave a way to a stronger you is, in and of itself, one of the biggest rewards possible. Just remember to enjoy the process - the sights and sounds - along the way.
When I started running, about six (6) years ago, I quickly got caught up in speed. My desire in races to beat as many people as possible was my utmost goal. That vibe quickly permeated other areas to the extent that each training run had to be faster than the one before in order to avoid the feeling of failure. My desire to reach my goal in the fastest possible way, regardless of what I needed to do to get there or how it negatively affected my big picture Self Care plan, got in the way of my true goal... to be better. Instead, I became a "racer". The goal was clear, but I completely overlooked the amazing things there were to see, experience, and learn along the way.
Of course, you can certainly choose to do nothing. That, of course, is the easiest thing to do. Sitting by, passively, and observing others working, striving towards a better, higher quality life is a simple thing to do. There is little effort involved and there is no risk of failure resulting from your efforts. On the other hand, knowing you have the ability to affect change in your life, in a positive way, and be a stronger and more resolute person is empowering the degree to which I am not sure I could accurately put into words. Time constraints and other obligations are fine excuses. In the grand scheme, your health - your Self Care - is the most important thing to you when it comes to how you take care of yourself on a daily basis - in the hopes of living a better life.
Being a participant - an active player in the game of life - YOUR life - allows you the luxury to call the shots on which directions you take with your Self Care. This would seem to be the easiest of the three options. Yet it is so easy sometimes to get caught up in the tunnel vision that is our end goal, whether it is a goal weight, goal race, or whatever have you. Being a participant includes taking in all that your journey has to offer, including all of the auxiliary experiences, ups and downs, trials and tribulations. No one said it would be easy and, in reality, Self Care is not easy. It is a devotion of time and effort and an uncanny sense of honesty to yourself. Just knowing however that you hold the ability to make change and pave a way to a stronger you is, in and of itself, one of the biggest rewards possible. Just remember to enjoy the process - the sights and sounds - along the way.
22 November 2009
Progress Report: 22 November 2009
It has been just about thirty (30) days since I ran and finished my first full marathon. While I still look back fondly at the entire accomplishment, I am quickly discovering that the recovery portion of the race is teaching me just as much, if not more, about where I was, where I am now, and where I want to be.
Running, for want of a better word, has been difficult if not awkward since October 25th. Tight, stiff, forced, unnatural - all of these words seem to sum up just how running feels to me right now. Dealing with a left leg injury (soleus and posterior tibialis strain) is not helping. Mentally, perhaps more than physically, it has been uphill all the way.
Nutrition has been questionable and excuses are rampant. So, it is clear, someone in this relationship (see: the third element of Self Care, the intrapersonal relationship) needs to draw a very real and very firm line in the proverbial sand. This - the running, the nutrition, the overall want for a better life - is not a short term thing. This much I know. My life, I hope and pray, is too long, too valuable to me, for anything less than maximum quality for the rest of my days. I demand that of myself and, let's face it, I want to be around for those who matter most to me. Selfish, I am, like that.
So, here I sit, sputtering away on the keyboard, with yet another "pick yourself up off the ground" message. Let this be a lesson to all who adopt Self Care as a way of life: There is no finish line, there is no end date, there is never a time when you can take Self Care and put it on the shelf to admire from afar. Self Care, much like a great cast iron skillet, progressively gets better the more you use it.
Be well.
Running, for want of a better word, has been difficult if not awkward since October 25th. Tight, stiff, forced, unnatural - all of these words seem to sum up just how running feels to me right now. Dealing with a left leg injury (soleus and posterior tibialis strain) is not helping. Mentally, perhaps more than physically, it has been uphill all the way.
Nutrition has been questionable and excuses are rampant. So, it is clear, someone in this relationship (see: the third element of Self Care, the intrapersonal relationship) needs to draw a very real and very firm line in the proverbial sand. This - the running, the nutrition, the overall want for a better life - is not a short term thing. This much I know. My life, I hope and pray, is too long, too valuable to me, for anything less than maximum quality for the rest of my days. I demand that of myself and, let's face it, I want to be around for those who matter most to me. Selfish, I am, like that.
So, here I sit, sputtering away on the keyboard, with yet another "pick yourself up off the ground" message. Let this be a lesson to all who adopt Self Care as a way of life: There is no finish line, there is no end date, there is never a time when you can take Self Care and put it on the shelf to admire from afar. Self Care, much like a great cast iron skillet, progressively gets better the more you use it.
Be well.
02 November 2009
10.10.10
Many destinations come to mind when I consider running a marathon. One of the first was Chicago. There is something about the luring nature of the city, the running vibe that is there, and the fever pitch which comes with the city's crown jewel event... the Bank of America Chicago Marathon.
So, that said, while race registration has not opened and will not open for another few months, I have already locked up (what may or may not be my final) hotel reservation. For me, that's it. I am set.
There may come a time when what some could perceive as a novelty for traveling for "destination races" might wear off. I cannot see that happening. Not any time soon. The ability to experience an event, much more than just running in another city, is the draw. I want to feel the vibe, the pulse.
So, between now and October of next year, my goals are simple. Run, refine my body composition and run some more. It is shaping up to be a great ride.
So, that said, while race registration has not opened and will not open for another few months, I have already locked up (what may or may not be my final) hotel reservation. For me, that's it. I am set.
There may come a time when what some could perceive as a novelty for traveling for "destination races" might wear off. I cannot see that happening. Not any time soon. The ability to experience an event, much more than just running in another city, is the draw. I want to feel the vibe, the pulse.
So, between now and October of next year, my goals are simple. Run, refine my body composition and run some more. It is shaping up to be a great ride.
Random thoughts
There are times when one may prefer not to be defined by your words or actions. Every time I lace up my running shoes, I continue to remind myself of the gift I have been given. Running has, truly, saved my life. Now, thinking almost out loud, it is next to implausible to consider a life without running. In fact, considering the success of No Boundaries along with my personal running achievements, it puzzles me if anyone could really say anything about me that would not involve running. For me, at this point in my life, I am not sure I would have it any other way.
It occurred to me though, at yet another nondescript point in time, when I least expected it: What is there to do when seemingly all obstacles once thought to be in the way now seem so insignificant?
The answer is obvious: Everything.
For some, the desire to run a marathon begins at the starting line of their first marathon and ends exactly 26.2 miles later – if not sooner, as many decide to never run the distance again while still on the course. Not a great idea.
Yet I was somewhat surprised that my attitude quickly shifted from thoughts of if I would run another marathon to when I would run another marathon. What was once considered impossible if not implausible is now a reality. My experience at the 2009 Marine Corps Marathon was exactly what I expected and still far exceeded my expectations, all at the same time. The people, the environment, the crowds, the organization, the emotion, and the event itself all made for a fantastic ending to a 20-week journey within the journey.
Even though there have been some notions, I think it is only now, finally, I think I understand why I got into running in the first place. The knowledge that there are no more obstacles in my way when it comes to my Self Care provides a freedom that is, absent a better word, calming. It is now that I know what I can do… and that is “anything.”
I still have a long road to go. More groups to lead, workshops to offer, and races to run. Now, somehow, the air is different. No longer is there the ceiling of self-doubt that once defined my existence. Accepting a challenge and taking it on with full effort is not frightening, it is necessary.
There are more places to go, people to meet, and roads to be run. Every stride offers more insight on where I have been, where I am now and where I still have yet to go. I am not done yet, not by any stretch of the imagination. Life continues to amaze me.
It occurred to me though, at yet another nondescript point in time, when I least expected it: What is there to do when seemingly all obstacles once thought to be in the way now seem so insignificant?
The answer is obvious: Everything.
For some, the desire to run a marathon begins at the starting line of their first marathon and ends exactly 26.2 miles later – if not sooner, as many decide to never run the distance again while still on the course. Not a great idea.
Yet I was somewhat surprised that my attitude quickly shifted from thoughts of if I would run another marathon to when I would run another marathon. What was once considered impossible if not implausible is now a reality. My experience at the 2009 Marine Corps Marathon was exactly what I expected and still far exceeded my expectations, all at the same time. The people, the environment, the crowds, the organization, the emotion, and the event itself all made for a fantastic ending to a 20-week journey within the journey.
Even though there have been some notions, I think it is only now, finally, I think I understand why I got into running in the first place. The knowledge that there are no more obstacles in my way when it comes to my Self Care provides a freedom that is, absent a better word, calming. It is now that I know what I can do… and that is “anything.”
I still have a long road to go. More groups to lead, workshops to offer, and races to run. Now, somehow, the air is different. No longer is there the ceiling of self-doubt that once defined my existence. Accepting a challenge and taking it on with full effort is not frightening, it is necessary.
There are more places to go, people to meet, and roads to be run. Every stride offers more insight on where I have been, where I am now and where I still have yet to go. I am not done yet, not by any stretch of the imagination. Life continues to amaze me.
27 October 2009
Race Report - 2009 Marine Corps Marathon
I often wonder how something so incredibly amazing can leave me so speechless. I am humbled beyond words thinking back on the past twenty (20) weeks of training and, of course, Marine Corps Marathon weekend. I knew going in that I had to respect the distance of 26 miles 385 yards. I knew it would be a challenge. I knew it would change me. The degree to which all of those would happen though, I had no idea.
We arrived in Rosslyn on Thursday afternoon and had a great hotel location for the start and finish of the race. Friday morning consisted of a light 30-minute run, including the finish of the marathon, which had already been barricaded for the event. The finishing hill seemed a little more steep then I had imagined, but that was the least of my concerns. There were many more miles to be run prior to dealing with that.
My wife and I really enjoyed the race expo. The organization of this entire thing was nothing short of top notch. I was amazed with the efficiency of packet pick-up and the layout of the expo as a whole. Many other events had tables set up and the vendors were all knowledgeable and pleasant enough. I was lucky enough to see former Marine Montel Williams doing a radio spot during the expo – Williams is living with Multiple Sclerosis and was kind enough to spare a moment with me as I thanked him for being such a huge inspiration to my Mom, who also has this degenerative disease.
Bart Yasso’s lecture at the expo was great. His dry southeastern Pennsylvania wit combined with his experiences on the road made me feel a little more at ease. He was kind enough to sign my book and pose for a photo. Again, class all the way. Amby Burfoot once said that Yasso never forgets a name. I contacted Yasso once on Facebook and, wouldn’t you know, he remembered me, my name and where I am originally from. Again, class all the way.
Saturday was all about taking it easy. My wife and I did some walking through Arlington with some of our best friends to see the Cemetery and other points of interest. If that kind of thing does not stir some emotion, there is something wrong with you. My fear was that I was going to continue my inability to get a good night’s sleep for the race. I have to admit, I slept well Saturday night.
Not surprisingly, I was up before the alarm was set to go off at 5:00 a.m. on Sunday morning – race day. We knew going in that this was going to be a fantastic day for running from a weather standpoint. Cool, low humidity and good amounts of sunshine. My wife and I made the 2-mile walk from our hotel to the starting line. It was pitch black out at 6:30 a.m., as expected. The Marine Corps War Memorial was light only by spotlights – a sobering reminder of where I would wind up later that day.
We got to the starting line with me shaking from the chill of the morning and my wife toting the essentials in my “support bag”. Hugs and kisses were given and I got into the corral. The Osprey fly-over and the Howitzer send-off were moving to say the least. It took me almost 20 minutes to get to the starting line, but I was not complaining. The slow movement did me some good to get to some blood flow. I crossed the twin arches and started my Garmin – the game was officially afoot.
Going into the Marine Corps Marathon, I was aware of the two rather significant hills in the first nine (9) miles or so. My goal was to start out easy and run a negative split. More on how that worked out later…
The support on the course was fantastic. Marines were out there cheering and encouraging every runner out there. Many runners, myself included, were running for someone or some cause. That was special for me, knowing that I was by no means alone.
Musical entertainment throughout the course was a great way to break up the rhythmic “thwapping” of running shoes on the blacktop.
I had no intentions of seeing my wife on the course. Getting around the race area is difficult so as it is, let alone 21,000 runners and who knows how many times more supporters. Nevertheless, at mile 16, there she was… Just what I needed, when I needed it. A quick kiss through the fence, and I was on my way.
Beating the bridge (having to make it past mile 20 by 1:15 p.m. in order to avoid the sweeper bus), aside from a catastrophic injury or meltdown, was never a concern for me. The bridge, however, was long, arduous, and probably the least interesting part of the course. Although the grim reaper standing on the bridge with a sign indicating “The End Is Near” was a great touch.
Miles 21 through 24 were also tough as they comprised an out-and-back. Difficult. Once I got to mile 24, I felt the end was in sight. I ran onto the ramp to get down by Arlington Cemetery and I knew I was close. There were a few points from there on, I will not lie, where I started to get choked up. Thinking of my late Uncle who died of prostate cancer in 2007 and my Mom who lives with Multiple Sclerosis. Never a complaint from either. Their strength became my strength. Giving up was never in his and is never in her vocabulary. No matter what, I was not giving up. I kept saying to myself, over and over… “I… am… not… done… yet.”
Running past all of the monuments was not only inspiratonal but set an amazing backdrop for the race as a whole. Passing by the Arlington Cemetery brought on more emotion for the obvious reasons the place normally provides. Always earned, never given. The bend to the left let me know I was close. My back straightened up, shoulders back and head up. The crowds all along the corridor were several deep. The cheering and applause were incredible. Truly moving and humbling. I saw my wife and our friend at the fence to my left. I made it.
Unlike many races before, I was sure to mug it for the camera and get all the way across the finish line before messing with the Garmin or anything else. I wanted photographs that would really “make” this event for me. Mission accomplished.
Receiving my space blanket and finisher’s medal from a Marine was the best. After a congratulatory salute to the Marine, I was off to the Iwo Jima Memorial for a finisher photo and then off too get some food and liquids. After a cool bath, shower and nap, and some much needed Ibuprofen for a killer migraine, we spent some time and had a great meal later that night in Georgetown with our great friends, Lee and Sharon. I would not have had it any other way.
I truly struggle to put into words just how humbling this race was for me. I finished well, achieved two (2) of my goals, and sit here with confidence when I say I will run another marathon. At the same time, I will learn from this experience – and what an experience it was. To run my first full marathon somewhere other than Marine Corps Marathon would have been a letdown. That may be a bit over dramatic, but I think not.
I learned how far I have come from the person I once was and how far I still want to go... I learned that trusting in your training can prepare you for the marathon distance, yet you still have no idea what will happen on race day until race day. I learned that respecting the distance prior to the first marathon is one thing while respecting the distance after the fact is ever so different. I learned that I am not a "one-and-done" marathoner. I will continue to say this... I am very proud and humbled to have been a part of this event.
There are so many people who are deserving of my thanks, although my thanks is nowhere near enough.
To my wife, Jeannette, of course, for her unwavering support and tolerance of all things me during this process. She put up with a lot of crap throughout this whole deal but always knew how important this was to me. Seeing her at mile 16 and again at the finish made me realize just how much she took from this journey as well.
To my Mom for her support and strength. She was not there with us, but she was. To my Uncle Tom who is gone but by no means forgotten. His strength also fueled me and will continue to do so.
To my running partners – the Lee ("the Colonel") and Sharon ("Her Royal Highness") and Lee's friend Adam. The past twenty (20) weeks have been filled with ups and downs but I am proud to have such amazing running partners and, more importantly, fantastic friends. I used to think that running alone was the only way to go. Now, I cannot imagine running without them. Adam was someone new to me, but his calming influence the days before the race was a great help.
To every single person associated with the Marine Corps Marathon, Marine, civilian, or volunteer – Thank you for making this slow newbie feel like this event was especially for me. An absolutely top notch event from start to finish. Never once did I feel like just another number in this process.
To my runners in No Boundaries, past, present and future. Let my experience show you that, while you may never choose to run a marathon, hard work and dedication will get you exactly to where you want to be. Remember… One Stride at a Time…
We arrived in Rosslyn on Thursday afternoon and had a great hotel location for the start and finish of the race. Friday morning consisted of a light 30-minute run, including the finish of the marathon, which had already been barricaded for the event. The finishing hill seemed a little more steep then I had imagined, but that was the least of my concerns. There were many more miles to be run prior to dealing with that.
My wife and I really enjoyed the race expo. The organization of this entire thing was nothing short of top notch. I was amazed with the efficiency of packet pick-up and the layout of the expo as a whole. Many other events had tables set up and the vendors were all knowledgeable and pleasant enough. I was lucky enough to see former Marine Montel Williams doing a radio spot during the expo – Williams is living with Multiple Sclerosis and was kind enough to spare a moment with me as I thanked him for being such a huge inspiration to my Mom, who also has this degenerative disease.
Bart Yasso’s lecture at the expo was great. His dry southeastern Pennsylvania wit combined with his experiences on the road made me feel a little more at ease. He was kind enough to sign my book and pose for a photo. Again, class all the way. Amby Burfoot once said that Yasso never forgets a name. I contacted Yasso once on Facebook and, wouldn’t you know, he remembered me, my name and where I am originally from. Again, class all the way.
Saturday was all about taking it easy. My wife and I did some walking through Arlington with some of our best friends to see the Cemetery and other points of interest. If that kind of thing does not stir some emotion, there is something wrong with you. My fear was that I was going to continue my inability to get a good night’s sleep for the race. I have to admit, I slept well Saturday night.
Not surprisingly, I was up before the alarm was set to go off at 5:00 a.m. on Sunday morning – race day. We knew going in that this was going to be a fantastic day for running from a weather standpoint. Cool, low humidity and good amounts of sunshine. My wife and I made the 2-mile walk from our hotel to the starting line. It was pitch black out at 6:30 a.m., as expected. The Marine Corps War Memorial was light only by spotlights – a sobering reminder of where I would wind up later that day.
We got to the starting line with me shaking from the chill of the morning and my wife toting the essentials in my “support bag”. Hugs and kisses were given and I got into the corral. The Osprey fly-over and the Howitzer send-off were moving to say the least. It took me almost 20 minutes to get to the starting line, but I was not complaining. The slow movement did me some good to get to some blood flow. I crossed the twin arches and started my Garmin – the game was officially afoot.
Going into the Marine Corps Marathon, I was aware of the two rather significant hills in the first nine (9) miles or so. My goal was to start out easy and run a negative split. More on how that worked out later…
The support on the course was fantastic. Marines were out there cheering and encouraging every runner out there. Many runners, myself included, were running for someone or some cause. That was special for me, knowing that I was by no means alone.
Musical entertainment throughout the course was a great way to break up the rhythmic “thwapping” of running shoes on the blacktop.
I had no intentions of seeing my wife on the course. Getting around the race area is difficult so as it is, let alone 21,000 runners and who knows how many times more supporters. Nevertheless, at mile 16, there she was… Just what I needed, when I needed it. A quick kiss through the fence, and I was on my way.
Beating the bridge (having to make it past mile 20 by 1:15 p.m. in order to avoid the sweeper bus), aside from a catastrophic injury or meltdown, was never a concern for me. The bridge, however, was long, arduous, and probably the least interesting part of the course. Although the grim reaper standing on the bridge with a sign indicating “The End Is Near” was a great touch.
Miles 21 through 24 were also tough as they comprised an out-and-back. Difficult. Once I got to mile 24, I felt the end was in sight. I ran onto the ramp to get down by Arlington Cemetery and I knew I was close. There were a few points from there on, I will not lie, where I started to get choked up. Thinking of my late Uncle who died of prostate cancer in 2007 and my Mom who lives with Multiple Sclerosis. Never a complaint from either. Their strength became my strength. Giving up was never in his and is never in her vocabulary. No matter what, I was not giving up. I kept saying to myself, over and over… “I… am… not… done… yet.”
Running past all of the monuments was not only inspiratonal but set an amazing backdrop for the race as a whole. Passing by the Arlington Cemetery brought on more emotion for the obvious reasons the place normally provides. Always earned, never given. The bend to the left let me know I was close. My back straightened up, shoulders back and head up. The crowds all along the corridor were several deep. The cheering and applause were incredible. Truly moving and humbling. I saw my wife and our friend at the fence to my left. I made it.
Unlike many races before, I was sure to mug it for the camera and get all the way across the finish line before messing with the Garmin or anything else. I wanted photographs that would really “make” this event for me. Mission accomplished.
Receiving my space blanket and finisher’s medal from a Marine was the best. After a congratulatory salute to the Marine, I was off to the Iwo Jima Memorial for a finisher photo and then off too get some food and liquids. After a cool bath, shower and nap, and some much needed Ibuprofen for a killer migraine, we spent some time and had a great meal later that night in Georgetown with our great friends, Lee and Sharon. I would not have had it any other way.
I truly struggle to put into words just how humbling this race was for me. I finished well, achieved two (2) of my goals, and sit here with confidence when I say I will run another marathon. At the same time, I will learn from this experience – and what an experience it was. To run my first full marathon somewhere other than Marine Corps Marathon would have been a letdown. That may be a bit over dramatic, but I think not.
I learned how far I have come from the person I once was and how far I still want to go... I learned that trusting in your training can prepare you for the marathon distance, yet you still have no idea what will happen on race day until race day. I learned that respecting the distance prior to the first marathon is one thing while respecting the distance after the fact is ever so different. I learned that I am not a "one-and-done" marathoner. I will continue to say this... I am very proud and humbled to have been a part of this event.
There are so many people who are deserving of my thanks, although my thanks is nowhere near enough.
To my wife, Jeannette, of course, for her unwavering support and tolerance of all things me during this process. She put up with a lot of crap throughout this whole deal but always knew how important this was to me. Seeing her at mile 16 and again at the finish made me realize just how much she took from this journey as well.
To my Mom for her support and strength. She was not there with us, but she was. To my Uncle Tom who is gone but by no means forgotten. His strength also fueled me and will continue to do so.
To my running partners – the Lee ("the Colonel") and Sharon ("Her Royal Highness") and Lee's friend Adam. The past twenty (20) weeks have been filled with ups and downs but I am proud to have such amazing running partners and, more importantly, fantastic friends. I used to think that running alone was the only way to go. Now, I cannot imagine running without them. Adam was someone new to me, but his calming influence the days before the race was a great help.
To every single person associated with the Marine Corps Marathon, Marine, civilian, or volunteer – Thank you for making this slow newbie feel like this event was especially for me. An absolutely top notch event from start to finish. Never once did I feel like just another number in this process.
To my runners in No Boundaries, past, present and future. Let my experience show you that, while you may never choose to run a marathon, hard work and dedication will get you exactly to where you want to be. Remember… One Stride at a Time…
Thanks to Tracy, Diane, and Jocelyn and their husbands. A great time was had by all in the little time we got to spend together as a group.
To all of the amazing runners I have met over the past two (2) years at Fleet Feet in Greenville. Your advice, inspiration and counsel have been and will continue to be greatly appreciated.
As I continue these “closing credits”, I would also like to thank some other, supporting roles… Mizuno for making my running shoes for the past 5 months and Upstate Pedorthic for the orthotics that went into those shoes. Snickers Almond for being my preferred post long run fuel of choice – the hard part will be putting them down now. I would also like to thank Zing Zang for the best Bloody Mary mix known to mankind and Pabst for Pabst Blue Ribbon. No explanation needed here.
If the point has not been made, allow me to state this clearly… this is NOT the end of the line for me. I finished, I finished strong, and I finished well. Now, I want to do better. There are races on my mind and in my heart. Chicago 2010, Big Sur (thanks, Bart Yasso), and Budapest with my wife – all of these are in the mixer. I have a dream to qualify for Boston. I am not sure I will, but I will continue to set goals and work hard to get there. I can think about these things now as I am recovering, with soreness that can only bring a smile to my face and a thrill to my heart the likes of which are, still, hard to put into coherent words.
Humbled and honored. Now, the next chapter begins…
To all of the amazing runners I have met over the past two (2) years at Fleet Feet in Greenville. Your advice, inspiration and counsel have been and will continue to be greatly appreciated.
As I continue these “closing credits”, I would also like to thank some other, supporting roles… Mizuno for making my running shoes for the past 5 months and Upstate Pedorthic for the orthotics that went into those shoes. Snickers Almond for being my preferred post long run fuel of choice – the hard part will be putting them down now. I would also like to thank Zing Zang for the best Bloody Mary mix known to mankind and Pabst for Pabst Blue Ribbon. No explanation needed here.
If the point has not been made, allow me to state this clearly… this is NOT the end of the line for me. I finished, I finished strong, and I finished well. Now, I want to do better. There are races on my mind and in my heart. Chicago 2010, Big Sur (thanks, Bart Yasso), and Budapest with my wife – all of these are in the mixer. I have a dream to qualify for Boston. I am not sure I will, but I will continue to set goals and work hard to get there. I can think about these things now as I am recovering, with soreness that can only bring a smile to my face and a thrill to my heart the likes of which are, still, hard to put into coherent words.
Humbled and honored. Now, the next chapter begins…
21 October 2009
What lies on the other side
The wait is over. The training miles have been run. There is nothing left to do other than pack, get to Arlington and, oh-by-the-way, run 26 miles 385 yards.
Many things entered into my mind when I first considered doing this, not the least of which were thoughts of doubt just in covering the distance. As things wore on, that changed. I have little problem writing that I grew attached to marathon training, including its idiosyncratic rigors and frustrating twists and turns. Come Sunday, I can celebrate that which I have learned. I think I know enough about myself, my body, and my current running ability to know how to handle situations as they arise.
Yet it is the last two-tenths of a mile that beckons with something of an uncertainty - not in covering the distance as I will find a way to do that - but rather the emotion and feelings I will encounter. I have no idea of how I will feel physically, mentally or emotionally. That part of the story is as yet untold.
So, come tomorrow morning I will be leaving a mere runner. When I return, I will be a marathoner. Amazing.
Be well.
Many things entered into my mind when I first considered doing this, not the least of which were thoughts of doubt just in covering the distance. As things wore on, that changed. I have little problem writing that I grew attached to marathon training, including its idiosyncratic rigors and frustrating twists and turns. Come Sunday, I can celebrate that which I have learned. I think I know enough about myself, my body, and my current running ability to know how to handle situations as they arise.
Yet it is the last two-tenths of a mile that beckons with something of an uncertainty - not in covering the distance as I will find a way to do that - but rather the emotion and feelings I will encounter. I have no idea of how I will feel physically, mentally or emotionally. That part of the story is as yet untold.
So, come tomorrow morning I will be leaving a mere runner. When I return, I will be a marathoner. Amazing.
Be well.
14 October 2009
Have faith and let go
The training is just about done, the sweat poured and the agonizing complete. Now, there is nothing left to do but to squeeze out just a few more training miles and get up to Arlington, Virginia. There is, of course, that little business about the 26 miles 385 yards to run. Minor details.
The past few days have been very difficult for me, in a number of ways. For me, this is somewhat like my grieving the loss of my uncle before he ever passed away over a year ago. At the risk of sounding odd, this is my pre-race grieving. Over the past 18+ weeks, I have grown attached to the hectic schedule of running more than I ever have in my life, eating clean and focusing on October 25, 2009 on my calendar. With all due deference to my wife, it has been the most important date on my personal calendar since, well, forever. A date that almost wasn't.
My anxiety over the past days comes from a number of sources. Taper madness is the obvious choice, sure, Yet for me, there is more. For so many years, I expected and demanded so little of myself in terms of effort. I never asked anything of myself and so, as a direct result, I was never disappointed in what I received.
My how things have changed.
Now, I demand more. More than perhaps I could have ever imagined as witnessed by my prognostications of future marathons and improved times - an improved finishing time from a marathon I have yet to run. I have to chuckle when I read that.
Yes, things are vastly different. Not only have I achieved the unthinkable of making it through marathon training, but I continue to raise the bar ever so much higher. For me, that is how it works. That is how I strive. That is how I survive.
Having that series of goals keeps my mind focused forward all the while taking in the lessons learned from prior experiences. I am not perfect nor am I expecting as much. When I first considered training for a marathon, my primary goal was to learn as much as I could about myself and how I relate to my running, my mind, and my body. Mission accomplished.
There is nothing left now but 35,000 of my closest friends, 10 days from now, and running the run of a lifetime... for now. The finish line for the Marine Corps Marathon is not the end for me. This much I know right now. Rather it is the beginning. The door is open to places and goals the likes of which I never knew existed, let alone considered.
My biggest challenge between now and October 25th is simple. Having faith in the training I have done, relaxing and just letting go have not been easy. But it has to happen, for my own sanity and, likely for those around me. Yet at this point, it is all about me. All I can say is: Wow.
The past few days have been very difficult for me, in a number of ways. For me, this is somewhat like my grieving the loss of my uncle before he ever passed away over a year ago. At the risk of sounding odd, this is my pre-race grieving. Over the past 18+ weeks, I have grown attached to the hectic schedule of running more than I ever have in my life, eating clean and focusing on October 25, 2009 on my calendar. With all due deference to my wife, it has been the most important date on my personal calendar since, well, forever. A date that almost wasn't.
My anxiety over the past days comes from a number of sources. Taper madness is the obvious choice, sure, Yet for me, there is more. For so many years, I expected and demanded so little of myself in terms of effort. I never asked anything of myself and so, as a direct result, I was never disappointed in what I received.
My how things have changed.
Now, I demand more. More than perhaps I could have ever imagined as witnessed by my prognostications of future marathons and improved times - an improved finishing time from a marathon I have yet to run. I have to chuckle when I read that.
Yes, things are vastly different. Not only have I achieved the unthinkable of making it through marathon training, but I continue to raise the bar ever so much higher. For me, that is how it works. That is how I strive. That is how I survive.
Having that series of goals keeps my mind focused forward all the while taking in the lessons learned from prior experiences. I am not perfect nor am I expecting as much. When I first considered training for a marathon, my primary goal was to learn as much as I could about myself and how I relate to my running, my mind, and my body. Mission accomplished.
There is nothing left now but 35,000 of my closest friends, 10 days from now, and running the run of a lifetime... for now. The finish line for the Marine Corps Marathon is not the end for me. This much I know right now. Rather it is the beginning. The door is open to places and goals the likes of which I never knew existed, let alone considered.
My biggest challenge between now and October 25th is simple. Having faith in the training I have done, relaxing and just letting go have not been easy. But it has to happen, for my own sanity and, likely for those around me. Yet at this point, it is all about me. All I can say is: Wow.
07 October 2009
Progress Report: 07 October 2009
So, this is what they call “taper madness”…
It is funny to me in something of a quizzical way how the past 17 weeks have played out. Many who have been veteran marathoners long before I even considered taking that first step tried to educate me. Really, the process – the whole process – is something that needs to be experienced in order to fully understand its mystical power and confusing lessons to be taught.
In the days and weeks that made up the beginning of my training for this marathon, I heeded the words of the sage veterans. I took my pacing seriously, made sure I was eating cleaner and – at least attempting – to get enough rest. Some of these things were easy. Others were near impossible.
Nothing, and I mean nothing, prepared me for the mental investment that came along with training for and running in this marathon. By and large it was the single solitary thing that consumed my mind almost at all times. Everything I ate and drank, every time I looked at the clock to see how late it was during yet another restless night of sleep, all of it added up to what has been my life for over four months.
Now, sadly, it is almost over. Yet this is only the beginning. The next 2 weeks-plus will be consumed with others asking questions about my training, whether taper madness is truly maddening, and my readiness. I sit here with an overwhelming sense of guilt for peppering folks in my life with every last detail about my marathon training – many of them tolerated my babbling. They are very kind.
Temptation has been there, in various forms, for me to single-handedly derail my own success. There was this morning’s 8-miler that I wanted to take slowly. Apparently the gale force winds, torrential rains, and humid temperatures just made me feel like working hard for a “so-so” result. So be it. It is done. There is also the inaugural half marathon in Spartanburg this coming weekend, which I considered, yet this would give me the perfect opportunity for me to try to PR, knowing this is not the time for that.
Again, every day is a learning experience.
So, here I sit, broken-hearted, in a way. But to say that I am encouraged and anxious for the next chapter of this story to begin is an understatement. There are thoughts of refining my body composition, dropping the last 20 to 25 lbs, increasing my running base and really pushing to see just how much I can shave off of my Marine Corps Marathon time.
Bettering my marathon PR when I have not even run my first marathon yet.
Yeah, I’ve got it bad. I pray there is no cure.
Be well.
It is funny to me in something of a quizzical way how the past 17 weeks have played out. Many who have been veteran marathoners long before I even considered taking that first step tried to educate me. Really, the process – the whole process – is something that needs to be experienced in order to fully understand its mystical power and confusing lessons to be taught.
In the days and weeks that made up the beginning of my training for this marathon, I heeded the words of the sage veterans. I took my pacing seriously, made sure I was eating cleaner and – at least attempting – to get enough rest. Some of these things were easy. Others were near impossible.
Nothing, and I mean nothing, prepared me for the mental investment that came along with training for and running in this marathon. By and large it was the single solitary thing that consumed my mind almost at all times. Everything I ate and drank, every time I looked at the clock to see how late it was during yet another restless night of sleep, all of it added up to what has been my life for over four months.
Now, sadly, it is almost over. Yet this is only the beginning. The next 2 weeks-plus will be consumed with others asking questions about my training, whether taper madness is truly maddening, and my readiness. I sit here with an overwhelming sense of guilt for peppering folks in my life with every last detail about my marathon training – many of them tolerated my babbling. They are very kind.
Temptation has been there, in various forms, for me to single-handedly derail my own success. There was this morning’s 8-miler that I wanted to take slowly. Apparently the gale force winds, torrential rains, and humid temperatures just made me feel like working hard for a “so-so” result. So be it. It is done. There is also the inaugural half marathon in Spartanburg this coming weekend, which I considered, yet this would give me the perfect opportunity for me to try to PR, knowing this is not the time for that.
Again, every day is a learning experience.
So, here I sit, broken-hearted, in a way. But to say that I am encouraged and anxious for the next chapter of this story to begin is an understatement. There are thoughts of refining my body composition, dropping the last 20 to 25 lbs, increasing my running base and really pushing to see just how much I can shave off of my Marine Corps Marathon time.
Bettering my marathon PR when I have not even run my first marathon yet.
Yeah, I’ve got it bad. I pray there is no cure.
Be well.
02 October 2009
Removing Boundaries
Written by Leigh Savage
Upstate resident Dan Herman leads a running program for beginners in hopes that he can inspire others to run - and lose - like him
Dan Herman was desperate for a change. After a lifetime of weight problems, he had ballooned to 350 pounds, which, along with a degenerative spinal condition, left him in pain much of the time. He had tried to lose the weight many times, but nothing worked.
"I tried everything," Herman says. "Gym memberships, weight loss programs, pills - some FDA-approved, and some maybe not. In hindsight, I did everything wrong."
Then, in 2003, he hit on what seemed like a crazy idea - running. He went online and found a training plan for brand-new runners that guided him from sedentary to completing a 5K. "At 350 pounds, running was pretty painful," he says. But within a few weeks, he could see the changes in both his weight and his life, and the formerly agonizing activity became "the hugest blessing in the biggest possible way."
As the pounds began to disappear, Herman found himself with more energy, stamina and confidence, and realized that proper nutrition and training go hand in hand. He also discovered the importance of what he calls self-care. "That includes nutrition and physical activity, but it's also learning who we are and why our habits led to where we are." He realized food was his drug, which he used to numb himself - something running has helped him avoid most of the time.
"People need to understand that taking care of yourself is not about perfection," he says. "It's very individual and fluid, and if you can win more battles than you lose, you're going to be better off."
After losing 120 pounds, Herman went on to run several 5Ks and 10Ks and then did his first half marathon at the Spinx Run Fest last year. This fall, he's training for his longest distance yet - the Marine Corps Marathon in Arlington, Va.
While he gets great satisfaction out of his own running accomplishments, Herman wanted to share his new found passion and his message with people facing similar issues. When he moved to Greenville in 2006, he sent an e-mail to Fleet Feet Sports saying he'd be glad to help in any way. Before he knew it, he was coaching the No Boundaries program - a "couch to 5K" program similar to the one he found online just a few years before.
The program, sponsored by New Balance, meets three times per week to train for a 5K. Herman hosts three or four 12-week sessions per year,training groups of about 40 people leading up to local races such as the Spinx Run Fest 5K in October, the Reedy River Run 5K in March and the Candlelight Run in July.
Jill Cody headed into Fleet Feet this summer to buy walking shoes, but walked out with a plan to train for the Spinx 5K on October 31. "I had never even run three minutes straight," she says, but the group recently tackled 20 minutes of solid running and Cody surprised herself. "It wasn't easy, but it wasn't difficult," she says. The growing confidence in her abilities has inspired her to sign up for more races, including a half marathon in March.
"It's just great being in a group, and Dan's story is so inspiring," she says. "My favorite thing he said is that each time you put one foot in front of the other, that's a victory, and I think of that on difficult days. Running has just done so much for me mentally."
Peggy Albrecht is also training for the upcoming Spinx race - her third session with the No Boundaries program. Last year, she went into Fleet Feet on a business call, but left with contact information for Dan and the idea that, a tage 55, maybe she would try a 5K. "It changed my life," she says. When training began, she was unable to run for one minute, but she also managed the 20minutes of running at a recent No Boundaries meeting. "I never thought I would be able to do that," Albrecht says. She's lost 20 pounds, and her daughter joined her in training and has lost 25.
Albrecht appreciates that Herman understands what it's like to be a beginner. "His story makes him a real person to the rest of us," she says. "He wasn't born an athlete. He's extremely knowledgeable, and tells you to listen to your body, but he doesn't let up on you either."
She plans to continue training with No Boundaries after the Spinx race, since she enjoys the accountability and camaraderie of the group. Though this won't be her first 5K finish, she's hoping it will be her first to run the entire way. "But if I can't, that's okay," she says. "I'll just keep going."
29 September 2009
You can never dream too far
What started out as something of a nightmare has turned into a very tangible reality. An act so frightening and repulsive some time ago is now, at the risk of being overly dramatic, on par with taking in oxygen on the list of essentials in my life.
I... am... a... runner. Amazing. Even more amazing still that I have to remind myself of where I am today and how far my legs, my mind and my heart have taken me.
It started painfully. VERY painfully in fact. It was in 2003 at 350 lbs. Little did I know exactly that for which I signed up.
There is no "good" or "bad" when it comes to running or runners. All running is amazing. But if there ever was a "bad", I was it. Everything hurt the likes of which I never imagined. Yet eventually, on an unassuming day which I specifically cannot recall and during a run that was supposed to be like many others done before, it happened... Everything just seemed to click.
If nothing else, that moment gave me so much more than a new lease on life, although it hardly felt that way at the time. It was then when I discovered the ability to dream in an entirely new way. I could be the lead role in my own life, helping to create and shape the story and carrying it out just the same.
Now, for me, what was once impossible is now common place. What appeared a joke is now a reality. What was thought of as incomprehensible is now within arm's reach. Yet still, I have bigger dreams and aspirations.
My goals for 2010 and beyond are far greater than anything I have ever imagined. A scary thought considering my inability to walk 20 feet without collapsing some six years ago. Now, I get a rush of endorphins writing my 20-mile runs on my calendar. My how times have changed.
Regardless of where you are today, no dream is too big. Just know that between this exact moment in time and your dream stands a lot of effort, dedication, and determination. Strength is not necessary. It is demanded. A will to continue when your mind says you cannot. Knowing that one more stride gets you towards your long term as much as your short term goals and yet, equally as important, drives you further away from those things in your life which prevented you from your own Self Care.
Reality does come into play, yet should never limit your dreams. If it is in your mind and your heart to achieve something, do it and make no excuses for it. Your life - your very existence - belongs to you and you alone, first and foremost. Place a bet on the best asset of all - YOU. Set goals, give life your best effort in reaching your dreams, and be rewarded for your efforts knowing that, in the end, you are nothing less than a winner.
I... am... a... runner. Amazing. Even more amazing still that I have to remind myself of where I am today and how far my legs, my mind and my heart have taken me.
It started painfully. VERY painfully in fact. It was in 2003 at 350 lbs. Little did I know exactly that for which I signed up.
There is no "good" or "bad" when it comes to running or runners. All running is amazing. But if there ever was a "bad", I was it. Everything hurt the likes of which I never imagined. Yet eventually, on an unassuming day which I specifically cannot recall and during a run that was supposed to be like many others done before, it happened... Everything just seemed to click.
If nothing else, that moment gave me so much more than a new lease on life, although it hardly felt that way at the time. It was then when I discovered the ability to dream in an entirely new way. I could be the lead role in my own life, helping to create and shape the story and carrying it out just the same.
Now, for me, what was once impossible is now common place. What appeared a joke is now a reality. What was thought of as incomprehensible is now within arm's reach. Yet still, I have bigger dreams and aspirations.
My goals for 2010 and beyond are far greater than anything I have ever imagined. A scary thought considering my inability to walk 20 feet without collapsing some six years ago. Now, I get a rush of endorphins writing my 20-mile runs on my calendar. My how times have changed.
Regardless of where you are today, no dream is too big. Just know that between this exact moment in time and your dream stands a lot of effort, dedication, and determination. Strength is not necessary. It is demanded. A will to continue when your mind says you cannot. Knowing that one more stride gets you towards your long term as much as your short term goals and yet, equally as important, drives you further away from those things in your life which prevented you from your own Self Care.
Reality does come into play, yet should never limit your dreams. If it is in your mind and your heart to achieve something, do it and make no excuses for it. Your life - your very existence - belongs to you and you alone, first and foremost. Place a bet on the best asset of all - YOU. Set goals, give life your best effort in reaching your dreams, and be rewarded for your efforts knowing that, in the end, you are nothing less than a winner.
28 September 2009
This year is not yet over, next year already taking shape
While the bulk of my running labor for this year will not be complete until October 25th, I am already planning 2010's festivities. I think I have one more "big" race left in me before I look for some more local events. I want to run a full in my backyard, sleep in my own bed afterwards, have a beer in my local, the whole deal. But, it is not yet meant to be.
So, as it looks right now, 2010 will consist of at least one full marathon: Chicago. It is a city to which I have never been and I have read and heard nothing but the best about it since I started asking around.
I have considered a second and that could be Flying Pig in Cincinnati. Again, a well-supported, big race. With that, we shall see. From a training calendar standpoint, they seem to work well, but I will need to consult with others far more accomplished and intelligent than I am before committing to such things.
Listen to me... Planning marathons for a year from now. How in the world did I get here?
So, as it looks right now, 2010 will consist of at least one full marathon: Chicago. It is a city to which I have never been and I have read and heard nothing but the best about it since I started asking around.
I have considered a second and that could be Flying Pig in Cincinnati. Again, a well-supported, big race. With that, we shall see. From a training calendar standpoint, they seem to work well, but I will need to consult with others far more accomplished and intelligent than I am before committing to such things.
Listen to me... Planning marathons for a year from now. How in the world did I get here?
27 September 2009
What a long, strange journey it has been
Four months of running, eating, [some] sleeping and dreaming about what is to be... It never occurred to me either in considering the 2009 Marine Corps Marathon or after I registered for it, just how much the past few months and next few weeks would change my life. What started as a journey within a journey - the destination of which was as much of an unknown as anything I have ever attempted - now there is the sense that there is nothing I cannot do. And I have yet to run the race.
I have been married to this journey within a journey. Many who have already been fortunate enough to call themselves "marathoners" tried to explain to me just how "married" you become to the idea of a marathon, especially your first. As mine is of some travel distance away, there was first the hotel reservation followed by registering for the race itself. Assembling a training plan was soon followed by a stream of what felt like unconscious thought... more affectionately referred to as self-doubt.
Every training run was a small volume within a much more grand story, every week filled with trials and successes. Sometimes left with more questions than answers.
I sit here on the verge of starting my last big week of training before tapering for my first marathon. Oddly enough, the first thought that crosses my mind is that of sadness.
The mistakes I have made, estimates taken, painfully early/late/rainy/humid running, errant steps planted, the red clay on the carpet... All of it is soon to be a distant memory.
Yes friends, I am addicted to the process of training for a marathon. The known that is the unknown lures me in and is unrelenting in its stranglehold. It is not for the false pretense of thinking I am a Boston Qualifier ("BQ"), rather it is for the challenge issued to the person I see in the mirror every morning... A challenge issued. A challenge accepted.
Quitting would have been easy. I am carrying too much weight, still. There has not been enough time to build an adequate base prior to starting marathon training. I'm tired. It's raining. I'm not feeling it. I just don't want to.
Training for this race, while it has always focused on October 25, 2009, has never really been about the 2009 Marine Corps Marathon. Rather it has been about something far more empowering, to the extent possible.
Going through this process has shown me, in no uncertain terms, that I am capable of doing something grand and filled with variables, being led by little more than my heart and my legs - despite what my mind tells me.
I have said for some time that running is the key to a door. Each of us has a different key and it opens doors unique to each of us. For perhaps the first time in my life, the door that is open is full of opportunity, challenge and hope - three terms which were rarely if ever used together some six years ago.
This is who I am today, and I am proud of that. I could be better. I could be worse. Yet I will apply what I have learned to the next chapter of my life, running and otherwise.
I have no idea where I am going or how I will get there. What I can say, without hesitation, is that training for this marathon has showed me that the impossible is possible, the improbable is probable, and that strength comes in many forms and all of them are your friends.
Be well.
I have been married to this journey within a journey. Many who have already been fortunate enough to call themselves "marathoners" tried to explain to me just how "married" you become to the idea of a marathon, especially your first. As mine is of some travel distance away, there was first the hotel reservation followed by registering for the race itself. Assembling a training plan was soon followed by a stream of what felt like unconscious thought... more affectionately referred to as self-doubt.
Every training run was a small volume within a much more grand story, every week filled with trials and successes. Sometimes left with more questions than answers.
I sit here on the verge of starting my last big week of training before tapering for my first marathon. Oddly enough, the first thought that crosses my mind is that of sadness.
The mistakes I have made, estimates taken, painfully early/late/rainy/humid running, errant steps planted, the red clay on the carpet... All of it is soon to be a distant memory.
Yes friends, I am addicted to the process of training for a marathon. The known that is the unknown lures me in and is unrelenting in its stranglehold. It is not for the false pretense of thinking I am a Boston Qualifier ("BQ"), rather it is for the challenge issued to the person I see in the mirror every morning... A challenge issued. A challenge accepted.
Quitting would have been easy. I am carrying too much weight, still. There has not been enough time to build an adequate base prior to starting marathon training. I'm tired. It's raining. I'm not feeling it. I just don't want to.
Training for this race, while it has always focused on October 25, 2009, has never really been about the 2009 Marine Corps Marathon. Rather it has been about something far more empowering, to the extent possible.
Going through this process has shown me, in no uncertain terms, that I am capable of doing something grand and filled with variables, being led by little more than my heart and my legs - despite what my mind tells me.
I have said for some time that running is the key to a door. Each of us has a different key and it opens doors unique to each of us. For perhaps the first time in my life, the door that is open is full of opportunity, challenge and hope - three terms which were rarely if ever used together some six years ago.
This is who I am today, and I am proud of that. I could be better. I could be worse. Yet I will apply what I have learned to the next chapter of my life, running and otherwise.
I have no idea where I am going or how I will get there. What I can say, without hesitation, is that training for this marathon has showed me that the impossible is possible, the improbable is probable, and that strength comes in many forms and all of them are your friends.
Be well.
14 September 2009
Halfway to somewhere
Everything has a meaning, every word a notion of thought, every thought an emotion. I never really new, with any specificity, to where I have been running for the past 5-plus years. I would argue that I could have equally been running from just as much as running toward. The demons of my part - and arguably still of my present - are my companions on this ride. I am holding on for dear life with a sense of excitement and fright, hope and doubt.
My reasons for taking up running seemed simple enough: I was tired of weighing 350 pounds. At some point or another, that had to end. I just figured running was going to be one more of the feeble attempts to make change for the sake of change. Had I known that I was about to fall in love with something so simple yet, to this day, it continues to amaze me.
Initially, running felt all wrong, like punishment for three decades of self abuse. In reality, it was.
Now, 6+ weeks away from my first full marathon, I am filled with a wealth of emotion. More than anything else, I am proud of the progress I have made over the past 14 weeks. My legs are stronger and I have more endurance than at any other point in my life.
True though, there is something of a sadness lingering. Disappointed I never started running sooner, there is something to be said for this amazing new life I have been given... No, scratch that, EARNED.
I have learned that I can push myself beyond points which I previously thought were my limits. Every stride is an injection of adrenaline. Every foot strike adding beats to my heart and years to my life.
Running, for me, has been the key to a door - a door to a life from which I have kept myself for all my life.
While on a Self Care journey, many will refer to deprivation. Actually, when you are not taking care of yourself, you are depriving yourself of the quality life your mind and body are capable of providing.
Granted, running has not been the solution to all of my problems and I would never intend to imply as much. Rather the key that is running has opened the door. Where I go from here is as much of a question as it has ever been. What I can tell you is that my mind is clearer, my body is strong, my soul is filled with passion, and my heart with love. If this is what it means to live, then my only regret in life is that I did not find the key to this door sooner.
Be well.
My reasons for taking up running seemed simple enough: I was tired of weighing 350 pounds. At some point or another, that had to end. I just figured running was going to be one more of the feeble attempts to make change for the sake of change. Had I known that I was about to fall in love with something so simple yet, to this day, it continues to amaze me.
Initially, running felt all wrong, like punishment for three decades of self abuse. In reality, it was.
Now, 6+ weeks away from my first full marathon, I am filled with a wealth of emotion. More than anything else, I am proud of the progress I have made over the past 14 weeks. My legs are stronger and I have more endurance than at any other point in my life.
True though, there is something of a sadness lingering. Disappointed I never started running sooner, there is something to be said for this amazing new life I have been given... No, scratch that, EARNED.
I have learned that I can push myself beyond points which I previously thought were my limits. Every stride is an injection of adrenaline. Every foot strike adding beats to my heart and years to my life.
Running, for me, has been the key to a door - a door to a life from which I have kept myself for all my life.
While on a Self Care journey, many will refer to deprivation. Actually, when you are not taking care of yourself, you are depriving yourself of the quality life your mind and body are capable of providing.
Granted, running has not been the solution to all of my problems and I would never intend to imply as much. Rather the key that is running has opened the door. Where I go from here is as much of a question as it has ever been. What I can tell you is that my mind is clearer, my body is strong, my soul is filled with passion, and my heart with love. If this is what it means to live, then my only regret in life is that I did not find the key to this door sooner.
Be well.
27 August 2009
Progress Report: 27 August 2009
Well, I guess it has been a while...
Really, so much is going on right now, it is difficult for me to keep my mind straight and my body upright. My latest couch-to-5K group is progressing extremely well. I could not be more proud of them, their drive and determination, and ability to see past any challenge placed before them. I can only hope THEY soon see the entirety of strength they have in themselves.
Marathon training, from a physical perspective, is going well. I am getting in my miles and, to date, my legs are still attached. Amazing. I am filled with emotions that drag my mind all over the place and back again. There is still some lingering doubt about my sheer ability to cover the 26.2 mile distance. I know I will really start to feel the anxiety next week as I gear up for an 18-mile long run on Saturday. Yet for all of the trepidation, I am still resolute, perhaps more so than ever. While I have never before trained for or participated in a marathon, there is something paradoxically alluring about this whole process. Even though I am beating my body down with training, I know I am likely in the best cardiovascular and respiratory shape of my life. I marvel that I am running over 30 miles per week - a number that will continue to increase for another 5 weeks or so.
Yet it was a few days ago that I was taken back and, for me amazingly, speechless. My mom was nice enough to send me some "before" pictures. Now, past pictures for some may not be a big deal. For me, it is a swell of emotion, mostly anger. Staring at the images from 2000 and 2001, I have no idea who that person was. No clue. I knew I had issues. Plenty of issues. I guess I just never knew how bad things had gotten. In something of an odd twist, I took pity on the person in those photographs. He was not living his life. Rather, he was waiting for life to expire, perhaps to take him out of the daily mental and physical misery from which he suffered.
Seeing those images, knowing that person started running, at that size, makes me appreciate so much how far I have progressed.
But I digress...
Marathon training is moving along. My right hamstring is still an issue. Nevertheless, I am still chugging along. I have often considered what I will do when the actual marathon is over and I cross the finish line. Sure, there is the space blanket, the medal, re-hydration and something resembling solid food. Contemplating the emotions that will engulf me at that point is easy yet difficult.
Some times, when you achieve something great (i.e. something which you never previously attempted or never thought possible), you have clearly set the bench mark for even bigger and better things. The further I get outside of my comfort zone, the closer I get to my goals. The unknown, for lack of a better word, is the fuel that propels me on this journey.
Where I will go from here, I have no idea. What I do know, however, is that once I come down a bit from the marathon rush, there will be something else out there. More challenges await. This is what happens when you live your life knowing that you are often capable of doing anything that conventional wisdom says you cannot. Two eyes, looking forward...
Really, so much is going on right now, it is difficult for me to keep my mind straight and my body upright. My latest couch-to-5K group is progressing extremely well. I could not be more proud of them, their drive and determination, and ability to see past any challenge placed before them. I can only hope THEY soon see the entirety of strength they have in themselves.
Marathon training, from a physical perspective, is going well. I am getting in my miles and, to date, my legs are still attached. Amazing. I am filled with emotions that drag my mind all over the place and back again. There is still some lingering doubt about my sheer ability to cover the 26.2 mile distance. I know I will really start to feel the anxiety next week as I gear up for an 18-mile long run on Saturday. Yet for all of the trepidation, I am still resolute, perhaps more so than ever. While I have never before trained for or participated in a marathon, there is something paradoxically alluring about this whole process. Even though I am beating my body down with training, I know I am likely in the best cardiovascular and respiratory shape of my life. I marvel that I am running over 30 miles per week - a number that will continue to increase for another 5 weeks or so.
Yet it was a few days ago that I was taken back and, for me amazingly, speechless. My mom was nice enough to send me some "before" pictures. Now, past pictures for some may not be a big deal. For me, it is a swell of emotion, mostly anger. Staring at the images from 2000 and 2001, I have no idea who that person was. No clue. I knew I had issues. Plenty of issues. I guess I just never knew how bad things had gotten. In something of an odd twist, I took pity on the person in those photographs. He was not living his life. Rather, he was waiting for life to expire, perhaps to take him out of the daily mental and physical misery from which he suffered.
Seeing those images, knowing that person started running, at that size, makes me appreciate so much how far I have progressed.
But I digress...
Marathon training is moving along. My right hamstring is still an issue. Nevertheless, I am still chugging along. I have often considered what I will do when the actual marathon is over and I cross the finish line. Sure, there is the space blanket, the medal, re-hydration and something resembling solid food. Contemplating the emotions that will engulf me at that point is easy yet difficult.
Some times, when you achieve something great (i.e. something which you never previously attempted or never thought possible), you have clearly set the bench mark for even bigger and better things. The further I get outside of my comfort zone, the closer I get to my goals. The unknown, for lack of a better word, is the fuel that propels me on this journey.
Where I will go from here, I have no idea. What I do know, however, is that once I come down a bit from the marathon rush, there will be something else out there. More challenges await. This is what happens when you live your life knowing that you are often capable of doing anything that conventional wisdom says you cannot. Two eyes, looking forward...
We Will Stumble
Granted, it took me stumbling over an uneven portion of sidewalk to remember this, but sometimes that is how we are reminded of our true selves. It was earlier this morning, in the faint, anticipatory glow of the morning's sunrise, that I was reminded of something that is often forgotten yet very important - we are fallible. We will stumble. It is a foregone conclusion. How frequently and to what degree remains to be seen. The key however is what we do when we fall.
We are obviously imperfect beings. Speaking for myself, I am far from the perfect husband, son, employee, friend, coach, whatever. It can often be unsettling to know that no matter how much effort is involved, perfection is unattainable. Just remember, you do not stumble because you are not trying - you stumble because you ARE trying. The key however is what we do when we fall.
This is obviously not relegated to only running. We can stumble in everyday life in any number of ways. Ask me, and I will tell you all of the ways I bring this to fruition. It is a natural reaction to employ self-pity or even a fatalistic attitude when this happens. After all, if we were meant to achieve something, we would not ever falter in our attempts, right?
Life is a very long and arduous journey filled with peaks and valleys. Embrace the fact that perfection is unattainable and focus your mind, heart, and body on being the absolute best person possible. Your focus on being the best YOU will make your journey that much more memorable and you can spend more time being proud of what you are instead of down on that which you are not. Know that regardless of your intentions and your ultimate goal, you will stumble and you may even fall. Always remember that, when you fall, make sure you end up facing up, because if you can look up, you can get up.
Be well.
We are obviously imperfect beings. Speaking for myself, I am far from the perfect husband, son, employee, friend, coach, whatever. It can often be unsettling to know that no matter how much effort is involved, perfection is unattainable. Just remember, you do not stumble because you are not trying - you stumble because you ARE trying. The key however is what we do when we fall.
This is obviously not relegated to only running. We can stumble in everyday life in any number of ways. Ask me, and I will tell you all of the ways I bring this to fruition. It is a natural reaction to employ self-pity or even a fatalistic attitude when this happens. After all, if we were meant to achieve something, we would not ever falter in our attempts, right?
Life is a very long and arduous journey filled with peaks and valleys. Embrace the fact that perfection is unattainable and focus your mind, heart, and body on being the absolute best person possible. Your focus on being the best YOU will make your journey that much more memorable and you can spend more time being proud of what you are instead of down on that which you are not. Know that regardless of your intentions and your ultimate goal, you will stumble and you may even fall. Always remember that, when you fall, make sure you end up facing up, because if you can look up, you can get up.
Be well.
24 July 2009
Be Your Own Hero
"Whether I shall turn out to be the hero of my own life, or whether that station will be held by anybody else, these pages must show.” - Charles Dickens in David Copperfield
For the better part of my life, I spent my time wanting to be someone else, anyone else other than me. Sports are an important part of our society. As I grew up, I fell in love with sports of all kinds, partially as an escape. I was a fanatic, meant in the most extreme ways, with regard to sports, imagining myself on par with athletes similar to me in size and stature. All of this was a ploy, on my own behalf, to avoid living my life. The lie of my existence continued, fed off itself, and grew to monstrous proportions. I saw nothing wrong with it. I was deferring my life, my own existence, towards others in the hopes he would somehow lead me to the promised land with amazing athletic endeavors. In reality, I was in my early 30s and still playing pretend.
Many have done this very thing, in some way or another. We see people - perhaps celebrities - on television, in movies, and in print and truly feel some attachment to them and, what's more, look to them to be our heroes. When we are at our lowest, we often take pity on ourselves in that we are not how we want to be either in health, appearance, or mentality. A much easier alternative than affecting change is looking to others for the success or progress you wish to have.
However when it comes to your self-care, things are different. You write your story. You are the focal point of the narrative. You are in the lead role. You are your own hero.
Once I made the decision to right the ship and put my self-care plan into place, things changed. My concern no longer stood with comparing myself to famous athletes or in transferring my life onto them. In taking the initiative to be the hero of my story, in launching and directing my self-care, I found new abilities I never thought I had, including the ability to change myself both inside and out.
It all starts with the basic elements of self-care: eating cleaner, being more active, and developing a personal understanding. Incorporating self-care's basic elements into your life will provide you with a taste of success you may have never felt before - a genuine feeling that you can lend control to your health and put yourself on the path to a better, more positive life.
One taste of success leads to wanting more and, with improved, consistent efforts in the elements of self-care, you will set goals for yourself that you know will be achieved. As an added benefit, every goal you reach will make you stronger than ever before, both in mind and in body.
Write your own story and make yourself the focal character. Although it takes effort and dedication, being the hero of your own life is the most rewarding personal experience you may have and, as a result, you can be the strongest person possible for yourself and those important to you.
Be well.
For the better part of my life, I spent my time wanting to be someone else, anyone else other than me. Sports are an important part of our society. As I grew up, I fell in love with sports of all kinds, partially as an escape. I was a fanatic, meant in the most extreme ways, with regard to sports, imagining myself on par with athletes similar to me in size and stature. All of this was a ploy, on my own behalf, to avoid living my life. The lie of my existence continued, fed off itself, and grew to monstrous proportions. I saw nothing wrong with it. I was deferring my life, my own existence, towards others in the hopes he would somehow lead me to the promised land with amazing athletic endeavors. In reality, I was in my early 30s and still playing pretend.
Many have done this very thing, in some way or another. We see people - perhaps celebrities - on television, in movies, and in print and truly feel some attachment to them and, what's more, look to them to be our heroes. When we are at our lowest, we often take pity on ourselves in that we are not how we want to be either in health, appearance, or mentality. A much easier alternative than affecting change is looking to others for the success or progress you wish to have.
However when it comes to your self-care, things are different. You write your story. You are the focal point of the narrative. You are in the lead role. You are your own hero.
Once I made the decision to right the ship and put my self-care plan into place, things changed. My concern no longer stood with comparing myself to famous athletes or in transferring my life onto them. In taking the initiative to be the hero of my story, in launching and directing my self-care, I found new abilities I never thought I had, including the ability to change myself both inside and out.
It all starts with the basic elements of self-care: eating cleaner, being more active, and developing a personal understanding. Incorporating self-care's basic elements into your life will provide you with a taste of success you may have never felt before - a genuine feeling that you can lend control to your health and put yourself on the path to a better, more positive life.
One taste of success leads to wanting more and, with improved, consistent efforts in the elements of self-care, you will set goals for yourself that you know will be achieved. As an added benefit, every goal you reach will make you stronger than ever before, both in mind and in body.
Write your own story and make yourself the focal character. Although it takes effort and dedication, being the hero of your own life is the most rewarding personal experience you may have and, as a result, you can be the strongest person possible for yourself and those important to you.
Be well.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
About Me
- Dan
- NJ, United States
- A former 355-pound man, Dan has continued his journey, complete with ups and downs, and has begun to devote his life to helping others through their journeys.
