The Highs and Lows (and Hills!) of Racing

In addition to being a physical sport, it is worthy of pointing out that running has an emotional aspect as well.  This morning as I participated in the Seattle Half Marathon, I had plenty of time to read the shirts of the people in front of me as well as ample opportunity to reflect on what message the runners may have wanted to communicate to the others around them.  I know every participant is there for a different reason, be it health-related or in support of a special cause or loved one, a personal challenge to themselves, or any combination of these incentives.  I sometimes bounce between these ideas myself depending on the level of motivation I'm seeking at the moment.

Many people around me today were obviously running for a cause, be it with an official group like Team in Training or the Hope Heart Institute, or within their own closely-formed groups.  The one that especially caught my eye (and heart) was for a young lady named Diana.  She passed away last month, and was younger than me.  And whoever she was, she had a lot of supporters today; it brought tears to my eyes to watch a group of 4 runners clasp their hands high as they crossed the finish line together proudly bearing matching shirts in her honor that I had seen on many other runners earlier on the course.  Others proudly displayed support for surviving family members and friends, or youth activities in troubled housing districts.

It was fun to read inspirational quotes on the back of shirts as a way to boost motivation and keep paying attention to the runners ahead of me due to the heavy congestion on certain portions of the course.  My two favorites were: "You are stronger than you think you are!" and "The miracle isn't that I finished.  The miracle is that I had the courage to start." - John "The Penguin" Bingham.  One lady even had a sign attached to her back that announced it was her birthday, and that she had been born on Thanksgiving Day in 1946; I should have wished her a happy birthday but opted instead to conserve my energy.  Other shirts I noticed were for various races throughout the region, often a coveted "finisher" shirt for a special race, such as the Portland Marathon or Spokane's Bloomsday, that can only be earned by crossing the finish line.

Even I was sporting a new shirt today, it had the logo of my coach as well as our favorite local running store.  It brought a sense of pride to recognize the same design on my teammates and a warm feeling of familiarity to see ladies I knew and had trained with on the course with me.

These were good distractors because there is a lot of anxiety that the body experiences during the course of the race.  There are the pre-race jitters, which can start the day before, and no matter how much planning is done ahead of time there are always last minute kinks in the schedule that add to the tension level.  For a lot of runners, to include me, there's the additional personal pressure of trying to obtain a certain time goal and the frustration of trying to maneuver around slower people to maintain the required pace to reach that desired goal.  There's the sinking feeling in your stomach when you start pushing towards the end, only to turn a corner and find there's one last steep hill inconveniently located right before the last stretch ahead of the finish line.  And the disappointment of not reaching the goal you had hoped for.  This is what happened to me again today.

While waiting along the finish line chute, I was able to observe the marathon male winner come into the stadium, well ahead of the second place finisher.  What chills to applaud him and hear the loud whistling and cheers of congratulations as he took off his cap and glided across the mat, making it look so effortless.  Even though I was nowhere near a top-ranked placing for my age group, I could still imagine part of the feeling of accomplishment, just by finishing.  There were some today that didn't make it off the course; my heart went out to a lady I saw lying on a hill receiving medical aid because she was injured, which of course added to the race nerves.

My first half marathon was the inaugural Windermere (Spokane) in May 2009.  I had signed up but hadn't really trained and wasn't going to participate, and a friend from work encouraged me to just go do it.  So I went, and I thought I would surely die somewhere along the way.  I walked a lot of that race, and while I'm sure there were motivational shirts that day as well, they were lost on me in my misery.  But somehow I found the finish line at 3 hours and 5 minutes, where two dear friends were waiting for me to cheer me on at the end.  And the bonus was a great big medal placed around my neck - I felt like a celebrity!  I certainly hadn't placed for time, this is a perk for anyone who has the commitment to finish a half or full marathon.  I was hooked!

Since then I have completed five more half marathons, shaving more than an hour off my race time and improving my form and preparation.  It's even sparked the fire to complete a full marathon, which I will do 8 weeks from today in Phoenix.  I'm still trying to hit my personal milestone of less than 2 hours for the half, for which I was slightly disappointed again today when I missed it by mere minutes.  However, I have nothing to be ashamed of and am quite proud of this accomplishment.  Working towards this goal will help keep me motivated for the next half, and I just may have to make a crafty shirt to inspire those behind me!

You have to keep the end in sight if you expect to reach it

While completing longer training runs in preparation for my upcoming races, I've started reflecting on the journey itself in the process of getting to the end of something. As with most activities in life, each run has a starting point, the middle (some much longer than others!) and the glorious finish line which marks the completion of the event. Be it merely practice or an organized race, the object is to aim for a targeted area that signals the end of the run. Along the way it can be exhausting, long, and possibly lonely, but there is always such satisfaction and relief to finally have the end in sight, knowing you’re almost complete. Even if you can’t see exactly where you’re aiming for, hope lies in the knowledge that it must end somewhere if you keep pushing forward. This is, of course, provided you don't quit in the middle.

Not knowing how long it will take to get there, or where the end even is, can make you doubt yourself and question your ability to continue on. Other times it's just easier to stop and walk, but then it's so difficult to start running again that the bursts of trying to catch up by going faster get shorter and farther apart; this makes the inevitable end of the trek so much longer to find. An alternative is to keep your head down and not look up, to plod forward through the motions despite the discouragement of everything weighing you down because eventually you will still reach the finish line, but this isn't much better. I've done it myself, for countless miles and endless days. There was a long period of time where I didn't have the energy to look up on the road of life, as each day blended listlessly into the next with no concept of time or accomplishment. There’s nothing like taking the joy out of the journey to make it feel like it will drag on forever. Some of the pressures I felt were due to family life and work, inevitable issues that almost everyone faces at some point in their lives. Not having an effective way to channel this made it easier to keep looking down as I had no idea when or if it would ever improve, and not knowing where I was going made it too easy to aimlessly push ahead, which didn’t necessarily mean forward progress. I still struggle with this today, but not nearly to the same degree. Every day I am stronger, and much more willing to find the courage to keep my head up.  The "middle" is something I am learning to enjoy, not something I must simply endure, as I forge ahead.

I have an uncommon advantage this weekend as I take on the Spokane half marathon looking to set a new personal record (PR): this is a course I’ve seen before. I know what to expect this time. The weather will be different of course (forecasted to be warmer than the sub-20’s last year!), not to mention the prized shirt earned by finishers. Even if it was a new race for me, as Seattle and Phoenix will soon be, my training has prepared me for this journey. Weekly practices have built up my speed and endurance, a little at a time; they’ve helped guide me on new paths and find within me the strength to take on new challenges of all kinds along the way. It’s always the middle of something, so keep your head up, look down the road, and don’t quit. Out there somewhere is the finish line, and it’s a beautiful sight to behold.

Running starts one step at a time

People often ask me if I've always been a runner.  I imagine they are expecting a positive response, perhaps to hear me say yes would be a reason why they themselves could never be a runner too; if it's something that one has always done, it would seem impossible to start now.  Looking back, I can't say for certain how long I've been running as it's been something that has come and gone depending on what was going on in my life at the time.  As I ran my speed drills on the track this morning I reflected on my first memories of truly running, that one pitiful season of track when I was assigned to run the mile.  I still remember that first meet, and I don't think I'd ever run a mile before that day.  4 whole laps?  That felt like the biggest circle ever!  It was a hot and sunny afternoon, and as I struggled along the farthest corner of the track away from the spectators (dragging along, not even jogging by this point) I thought the end would never come.  But step by step, I came closer to the finish line and the agony was finally over.  And each run since has been the same, moving forward bit by bit to the end, though triumph and personal satisfaction almost always outweigh the downsides.  And today?  That size of the track felt so small (and manageable!) compared to my tainted memory.

As I've said before, I love running.  I realize most people aren't sick like that.  I find such peace in the the time I have for reflection, inspiration in the people and world around me, and satisfaction in pushing myself to new limits.  The achievements are personally rewarding, but you have to start small and build on what you've developed.  This does not bode well for someone as impatient as me who longs for the fast paces of years gone by that were honed by youth, frequent PT drills, and a lot less weight.  But for every time in my life that I've been a runner, there's been a longer period of time that I wasn't, and every time it calls me back, the process must restart.

As the saying goes, the best way to eat an elephant is one bite at a time, and this is as true in running as it is for life in general.  Starting slowly, a small distance to plan for and overcome, a finish line to cross and celebrate; the same can be said for all obstacles we're faced with.  So you don't have to have always been a runner to start now, and not all races have to be won by running.

Get busy living, or get busy dying.

My favorite line from Shawshank Redemption, this rings true every day.  Each morning is a new opportunity to consciously decide our attitude toward the day before it unfolds.  Today, for me, I had to get up early to get my training run in before work, a whopping 5 miles.  Despite my odd luck of absolutely loving running, the thought of getting up that early wasn't exactly appealing and I would have loved to stay put for just a moment longer, ok and a few more after that... but it was time to choose.  Power through and get it done, or blow it off under some false pretense of too busy, tired, sick, etc. - something, anything to get out of it.  Ah, there's a contingency plan for that.  Having a dedicated coach for me means being accountable to somebody that I will respect and adhere to better than myself, and it's going to be my saving grace against my never ending battle with procrastination.  The end result?  I actually ran an extra .7 miles, though this is due more to my inability to calculate math while running (despite having a Garmin GPS) than my eager approach to tackle a new day.  And by the time it was over I felt like I could take on the challenges that lie waiting for me, though I will be quick to admit that I'm not ready to move all my weekday runs to the mornings just yet!

I've found that it's too easy to lose track of time, to stop looking down the road and just muddle through each day.  We only get one shot at this so I hope to encourage you to embrace it as much as possible.  This isn't to say that all day every day should be on overdrive, but there should hopefully be enough satisfaction in our lives to help us thrive rather than continuing to merely go through the motions of life.  Too soon it will pass us by!  When my niece was just getting out the napping stage, she would be adamant about not stopping playtime to go to sleep as there were just too many things that needed to be explored or done.  That's how I feel about my life right now, wanting to take in as much as possible and savor it all, afraid of missing a great opportunity if I slow down too much.  Each new milestone, experience, or adventure, however small, helps fuel me for something else.

I chose the goal of a marathon because it's going to be hard and it's going to kick my butt in the process.  I'm going to want to quit at some point and my stubbornness will not allow me (which gives rise to concern of hurting myself and the other reason for the coach).  But it's going to be personal challenges such as this that will define me and the future I'm carving.  So I choose to get busy living, and encourage the same for you.

Come Run with Me

I've put a lot of thought into how to redirect my efforts with this journal as there are so many things I want to say and share with the hope of planting the seed of possibility in each of you.  Not necessarily to run a marathon, but to make the conscious decision each day to make yourself better in some small way.  Little changes add up to make big differences, and we're all capable of doing so much more than we allow ourselves to believe.

It's been just over a year since my own transformation began, an awakening from a long period of dark unhappiness and moving through each day as a set of motions lacking emotion, merely existing and no longer really living.  The causes are my own personal issues to work through, but so many of us carry around our own versions of the struggles that weigh so much on our minds and bodies; I believe a lot of us end up in some variation of this state of existence.  While I still have a long way to go, I have come so far and I am excited for the life I am rebuilding, for each new friend and adventure and experience.  Those who hear of my endless list of activities wonder where I get the energy, but after spending so much time doing nothing I crave to do as much as I can, to get out and make the most of each day, and the results are reflected in my improved attitude and, more noticeably, in my smaller size.  The difference is so dramatic that it's the first thing friends notice when they see me, and their compliments help keep me motivated to continue. I surround myself with encouragement, and plan to keep propelling that motivation towards the people in my life that need a little push to do something more in their lives to make each day a little better and brighter.

So come run with me, in whatever fashion suits you best.  I know you can do it!

Friday, June 4th

Well you wouldn't have necessarily known that I took yesterday as a rest day.  I'm sure staying up late drinking beers then getting up early for work had absolutely no impact on my slow run today.  Sigh.  I shouldn't be so critical, use this as a baseline, a starting point.  See where I am so I can figure out where I'm going and how I'm going to get there.  Dragging hard with a tail wind = really long return, and I'm rather surprised at the shortage in distance by ending on the big hill rather than the same starting point.  Oh well, do an even bigger loop in the middle to even it out next time, I love ending on the downhill sprint!


Seamus should sleep really good tonight, he took off like a shot after a rabbit and his poor tongue had already been dragging along before then.  I didn't appreciate having to stop and make peace with the couple whose dogs were upset by him, but that's what I get for leaving him off his leash on the main trail.  Yet another tidbit to keep in mind for the future.


All in all, beautiful clear weather with a touch of sun even.  But somehow the slugs were still out.

Final tally: 6.79mi (out the trail to 1st, loop around the park bathroom, saved the hill for the end but extended stop for dog-talk exchange), 1:08:23.24, 10:04 pace

Wednesday, June 2nd

National Running Day!  And, in that honor, I at least dragged myself out of bed to run before work; generally not a good idea if I want to arrive anywhere near 8, but wanted to fulfill my pledge.  I wouldn't have been able to do it after work today, so that was my only option.

You know it was raining.  For this reason I was a baby about it and only did 2 miles.  I thought quite a bit about the soldiers down at Lewis; they don't get a choice to stay in if it's rainy and did I need to remind myself yet again that I had better get used to it?  At least waiting to post this until after the day had passed will ease the foul things I want to say about running in the rain.  And poor Seamus kept wanting to stop and shake out (no explaining to him how useless that is!)  I will admit that even though it was in the rain, feeling cold and wet, and with heavy, sloshy shoes, I felt better when it was over and wished I had pushed out further.

Final tally: 2.01mi (turned around at curve by the tree, saved the hill for the end), 18:28.05, 9:10 pace

Gotta start somewhere... my own personal journey towards my first(?) full marathon

Why not choose the eve of National Running Day to begin seriously contemplating my decision to run a full? I am SUCH a procrastinator. About everything. My absolute fear of hurting myself may very well be what it takes to make sure I'm not this time. So, after completing 4 half marathons in the last year, my desire to go on is finally getting the best of me, just in time to be challenged to sign up for the Phoenix Rock 'n' Roll in January. 6/1/10-rainy, of course. I don't yet hate the rain, but it's really starting to wear on me. And how does that old adage go? If it's not raining it's not training. And honestly, if I only ever waited for good weather I would have a very narrow window of opportunity each week so I had better get used to it now. So by wasting too much time on Facebook (yet again) I think I missed the part where it actually let up after I got home, so I didn't head out until after 6:30. All I ate was a granola bar, that would haunt me later. I am not good about monitoring what I eat before I run, add that to the list of things to track. I thought I would be generous and let Seamus pick the direction once we hit the intersection, so it was my own fault that he chose to go up the big hill first rather than at the end, ugh. My legs felt like lead weights, that's what I get for doing all those stairs on Sunday and boy could I feel it today. The rain never hit the torrential level, for that I am grateful. However, there was enough of it that the slugs sure came out in full force. The black ones had already grossed me out, but today's special treat was seeing my first banana slug. Puke. I just know I'm going to slip on one someday, and go flailing across the sidewalk and suffer my first broken bone. Maybe if I just don't run in the dark; I'll have to re-evaluate this when winter comes and in the meantime be grateful for all of the daylight (if not sunlight) that's here now. I ended up walking just a bit, and for that I was mad at myself, but for the life of me the stupid trail feels like it's uphill in both directions. At least I used the time to work with Seamus on following directives while off-leash, so that was encouraging. He will have forgotten by morning, but should have it down by January.
Final tally: 3.97mi (turned around once I hit the BPA trail), 37:57.77, 9:34 pace.