August 7, 2009
First off, let’s get some things out of the way. I have been biking seriously fast, on and off, since 1990. I bought a Giant ATX 760 and modified it to a crazy mountain machine. I then bought a Giant Cadex carbon frame and modified it to Triathlon readiness. In 1993 I bought a Cannondale Super V 3000. I broke the frame twice riding off drops and stairs. It is now a cobbled together Jekyll, and C’Dale is still my favorite bike frame builder… EVER! I also bought the world’s lightest production bike in 1993, the Trek OCLV 5900. I changed to a few heavier components for everyday riding, and that is still my road bike. I can ride your wheel. I can pull. I can stand or sit up hills alongside lighter people. I can sprint with bigger and stronger people. I can do a really good track stand. I bike.
But you’d never know it by looking at me. I wear a cotton t-shirt and a backpack sometimes when I bike. I have some rust on a few bolts on my bikes from living on the coast. I don’t wear bike jerseys too often, nor do I don the ultra chic eyewear bicyclists like to wear. Sometimes I wear long fingered gloves in the summer. Sometimes I show up to road rides on my mountain bike… and KEEP UP! All of these things leave me wide open to the hell-fire and venom of “elite” riders. They hate me. I do not conform. I do not bow. I do not back off. I obey more traffic laws. I do not like to be judged by them and tell them so.
The things I have heard from fellow cyclists in the Brookside Thursday Ride, The Blue Moose Thursday Ride, The Chelley's Wednesday Ride, and the 75th Street Brewery Tuesday Ride [all in Kansas City] :
“Why do you only have a mountain bike?”
“If you can’t hang up front you have no business being here.”
“You need a “faster looking” bike.”
But it is mostly what I DON’T hear that is bothersome.
No “Thank you” after I bunny hop to the sidewalk and hit the crosswalk button for a group to get the green light.
No “You are new… welcome” when I show up the first time for rides.
No communication before turns and curves at high speed to coordinate lines of travel.
No “Grab my wheel” when I am struggling to stay with a peloton on a bad day.
No “Take the gap” to allow someone to join the pace line.
You see, biking reminds me of a couple of other sports.
Surfing. Things a surfer might say:
“You are stupid, dude. You deserve to freeze out here in that cheap wet suit.’
“Dude, if you grab my wave or take my line I’ll thrash you.”
“I’ve never seen you here before, dude. This is OUR break.”
Swimming. Things a swimmer might say:
NOTHING. They are just right next to you one minute and in the water the next trying to kick your ass and destroy you. Afterward, there is usually no acknowledgement or exchange. It is just over.
This is typical in riding, too. It is blood sport even at the recreational level. Kill or be killed. Eat or be eaten.
Where does this attitude come from? How does it get into club and recreational riding? Look no further than our professional cycling heroes.
Greg LeMond – Perhaps the most physically gifted cyclist ever. Also a gifted whiner, trash talker, and instigator. By the way, I own a LeMond indoor bike... so I am not a total hater.
Bernard Hinault – The Badger thought he owned the peloton. He still has a really big mouth. He is opinionated to a fault. It was actually great to see him and LeMond do battle. They deserved each other.
Mario Cipolinni – His last name means little onion in Italian. But there is nothing little about his style. Style doesn’t get you through the mountains, though. And sprinting is only a small part of being a good cyclist.
Where all this whining and whipping leads is to stagnation. For example, basketball is dominated by unbelievable athleticism AND trash-talking, thuggish behavior. Even though population has grown since 1990 there has not been an increase in numbers participating in the sport at all levels, according to the USA Today in an issue this week. I predict the same for Cycling.
Let me offer my solutions and thoughts:
You can be an ambassador for the sport and still kick ass. Think Eddy Merkx.
*Say hello to fellow riders of all types. If you are out of breath, wave at them!
*Make trash talkers shut up.
*Defend weaker riders. Remember the weaker riders get stronger, and your ass is the first one they’ll remember to kick if you are the snobby club rider.
*Don’t be an equipment snob. Again, that rider on the beater bike may kick your ass on a bike like yours.
Be the last person in the group every once in a while. You need to do your turns at the back and the front. Someday you will not have a good day. Who is going to be there to encourage you?
Obey the traffic laws. If you want to be heckled by drivers and targeted by police, by all means keep blowing stop signs and lights. If you want respect, you must also show respect.
Learn to bike! Seated. Seated sprint. Standing climb. Standing sprint. Decending skills. Shift strategy and timing. Most of the “elite” riders I ride with don’t even switch to a lower gear before stopping at a traffic light. Then they struggle and clunk through gears to get going again. Elite? Not so much. Learn to bike… that slow rider may be behind you, but they may also be, technically, twice the rider you are.
The bottom line is we all need to be domestiques. We need to be respectful and encouraging to each other and the sport will prosper. You can still kick ass, just be graceful about it. Your turn at the front will always end. If you are one of the problem riders with a bad attitude, I be somewhere in the peloton laughing when it does end for you. I may be at the front or in the back… but I’ll be there. You’ll hate me. And I’ll love it.
Friday, August 07, 2009
Tuesday, March 31, 2009
Negative Redline
OK... I have officially had it.
I am switching from wine to beer and hard liquor.
I am turning off the heat.
Why? Because American people, as portrayed by our esteemed media, are a bunch of whiners and full of hot air. The plays on words and double entendre usage are purely intended.
I am banning the use of the following phrases:
"Tough times"
"Trying times"
"Uncertain times"
These phrases are even used in TV ads now. Gee... THAT'S encouraging!
I don't know about you, but when weren't things tough? Oh, I'm sorry. You must not have worked for "evil corporate America" like I have for 20 years. While they have fed me and subsidized my very financial LIFE here, they have always been tough.
Trying times? That phrase is absurd! If times aren't trying what are they? Easy? "Untrying?" I can almost hear the exchange in a job interview now...
Employer: So how are things going right now for you?
Candidate: These are trying times, sir.
Employer: I noticed you have been out of work for a few months. So what about the prior period?
Candidate: Oh, that was easy.
Employer: Interesting... so I understand you correctly, working was easier than not working?
Candidate: That's not what I really mean.
Employer: OK. So what DO you REALLY mean?
Candidate: Now I worry more.
Employer: OK. So you didn't worry so much at work, right? Things were perfect, right? You were the consummate employee, correct?
Candidate: I didn't mean to imply that either.
Employer: I didn't mean to imply you had any shot whatsoever at landing this job.
Uncertain times? When were times NOT uncertain? We can count back the decades...
2000's: Terrorism/Jihad, Middle-East, China, North Korea, Repeating inflationary bubbles, Climate change debate, energy shortages, Russia v Georgia
1990's: World Trade Center, Y2K, Yugoslavia, China, Middle-East, Rwanda
1980's: Beirut, Iran v Iraq, Afghanistan v USSR, Interest Rates, Inflation, Unemployment, Chernobyl
1970's: Oil embargo, stagflation, unemployment, Southeast Asian conflicts, Middle East and African conflicts, Cold War, Iranian Revolution
1960's: Cold War, Cuba, Vietnam, Assassinations, Pervasive Civil unrest
1950's: Korea, Cold War, Suez, Civil Rights, Cuban Revolution
1940's: WWII, Cold War, Atomic Age, Holocaust
1930's:Depression Japanese Imperialism, WWII
1920's: Fascism, Market crash, Prohibition, Chinese Civil War
1910's:WWI, Russian Revolution/Communism, Spanish Flu epidemic
If you look at the trend, things have become more uncertain as time passes. Population grows. The advances in technology accelerate changes. Disparity of wealth and religion add fuel to the fires. All conflicts are global now. No one is safe from terrorism. You can't count on "ma Bell" anymore.
So, before your next land-line phone call, let's can the catch phrases. Times are what they are.
I am switching from wine to beer and hard liquor.
I am turning off the heat.
Why? Because American people, as portrayed by our esteemed media, are a bunch of whiners and full of hot air. The plays on words and double entendre usage are purely intended.
I am banning the use of the following phrases:
"Tough times"
"Trying times"
"Uncertain times"
These phrases are even used in TV ads now. Gee... THAT'S encouraging!
I don't know about you, but when weren't things tough? Oh, I'm sorry. You must not have worked for "evil corporate America" like I have for 20 years. While they have fed me and subsidized my very financial LIFE here, they have always been tough.
Trying times? That phrase is absurd! If times aren't trying what are they? Easy? "Untrying?" I can almost hear the exchange in a job interview now...
Employer: So how are things going right now for you?
Candidate: These are trying times, sir.
Employer: I noticed you have been out of work for a few months. So what about the prior period?
Candidate: Oh, that was easy.
Employer: Interesting... so I understand you correctly, working was easier than not working?
Candidate: That's not what I really mean.
Employer: OK. So what DO you REALLY mean?
Candidate: Now I worry more.
Employer: OK. So you didn't worry so much at work, right? Things were perfect, right? You were the consummate employee, correct?
Candidate: I didn't mean to imply that either.
Employer: I didn't mean to imply you had any shot whatsoever at landing this job.
Uncertain times? When were times NOT uncertain? We can count back the decades...
2000's: Terrorism/Jihad, Middle-East, China, North Korea, Repeating inflationary bubbles, Climate change debate, energy shortages, Russia v Georgia
1990's: World Trade Center, Y2K, Yugoslavia, China, Middle-East, Rwanda
1980's: Beirut, Iran v Iraq, Afghanistan v USSR, Interest Rates, Inflation, Unemployment, Chernobyl
1970's: Oil embargo, stagflation, unemployment, Southeast Asian conflicts, Middle East and African conflicts, Cold War, Iranian Revolution
1960's: Cold War, Cuba, Vietnam, Assassinations, Pervasive Civil unrest
1950's: Korea, Cold War, Suez, Civil Rights, Cuban Revolution
1940's: WWII, Cold War, Atomic Age, Holocaust
1930's:Depression Japanese Imperialism, WWII
1920's: Fascism, Market crash, Prohibition, Chinese Civil War
1910's:WWI, Russian Revolution/Communism, Spanish Flu epidemic
If you look at the trend, things have become more uncertain as time passes. Population grows. The advances in technology accelerate changes. Disparity of wealth and religion add fuel to the fires. All conflicts are global now. No one is safe from terrorism. You can't count on "ma Bell" anymore.
So, before your next land-line phone call, let's can the catch phrases. Times are what they are.
Monday, March 16, 2009
Change & Hope In America
Change & Hope In America
By Reed Nelson, March 2009
Let me state, for the record:
I am from one of the most conservative congressional districts in the US. The same congressman that was elected when I was in elementary school still serves today. That is a shame and a sham. So is Ted Kennedy [but I hope he beats brain cancer]. So are GHWBush, Clinton, GWBush… the globalist presidents who have collectively let the world wreck our economy with “free” trade policies. Of course, we did a good job of wrecking the world financial system on our own. I may have conservative roots, but I am no conservative. I am no liberal either. I am my own man. And I am really not happy about the lunacy that has gripped this country. I hope it is only temporary, but hope has been hijacked by our new president for now. I hate government intervention into my personal affairs. I can’t stand human rights abuse. I like guns. I think big business is just awesome. I drive a hybrid car. I compost. I own two rain barrels. I reuse. And I have been doing this for MUCH longer than it has ever been fashionable to do so, because I thought I was [gasp] being conservative. Don’t even THINK about trying to pigeonhole me.
I hope Obama kicks butt. I hope he is hope. But the fact is he is just a man. And when he uttered the phrase “hard work” in his inaugural speech I silently cheered and envisioned many of the people that voted for him looking bewildered at the same time. I can see it so clearly. “Surely he didn’t say ‘work,’ did he Johnny?”
“No Danny-boy, I don’t think so. Do you have any spare change?”
Thank God Barack Obama is a hard worker. Thank God he is actually a religious man. But wait, so was GWBush and that was a problem. The Dems don’t care now. Their guy is in office. But is it their guy? Work? Patriotism? Responsibility?
“Johnny, he just said responsibility… fire up another blunt and give it to me… quickly Johnny!”
“Danny-boy, calm down! We may need to start stretching our pennies!”
That’s right, Johnny and Danny. Happy days are not here again. Get to work and off my street corner. The last time I offered you food you would not take it… you only wanted money. I wonder why. But I am hard and jaded. I am a little ashamed of that sometimes.
Obama is a much better speaker than me…
“Time and again these men and women struggled and sacrificed and worked till their hands were raw so that we might live a better life.”
“For everywhere we look, there is work to be done.”
“… it is ultimately the faith and determination of the American people upon which this nation relies.”
“But those values upon which our success depends — hard work and honesty, courage and fair play, tolerance and curiosity, loyalty and patriotism — these things are old. These things are true.”
“What is required of us now is a new era of responsibility…”
Listen to Obama, just don’t listen to celebrities… no matter what the message may be. You can get more truth from real people… or garbage cans if you wish. Most of the America I know works. Celebrities do NOT work. Let’s get that straight right now. They live in a fantasy world you and I can scarcely imagine. Where wants are ALWAYS met. Where there are no needs left that can’t be bought or explained away. Where you don’t really matter unless they say you do.
America is by far the most generous and charitable nation on this planet. We should be. We are the richest. The only charity I give to right now goes to an El Salvadorian boy. That is the spirit of America. To me, the talk of pledging and giving that is going on right now is insulting. It insinuates that we have not been charitable enough. This is nonsense.
So back to Obama. He has, so far, appointed a couple of conservatives or moderates to key/cabinet positions. And where are all of the African-Americans? Well, most of the people completely enamored with Obama did not know of his peaceful history with opposite thinkers while he was president of the Harvard Law Review. They also did not know his “don’t tell me what to do” stands against the entrenched African-American elected of the Chicago political landscape. Heck, good ole Barry may be more of a maverick than McCain! Yet, with all of his stands against the expectations of the extreme, Obama seems to be able to maintain relations, to keep from alienating people. He is very skilled in this regard… very impressive. GWBush said he was a “uniter,” and turned out to be a divider. Much of this had to do with his refusal to be transparent and inability to effectively communicate.
I think Obama could be a great president. All of the things he has done or is doing so far are not exactly what is expected… but he is still not ticking most people off. While he campaigned on the nebulous ideas of hope and change and made these ideals his own, he is now bringing more concrete words and ideals into play. Justice. Patriotism. Work. Transparency. Ethics. I will say that fiscal conservatives know that paying for all this spending is going to be a rough road. I have heard many people I know in their 60’s say things like “Thank God I’ll be dead by the time we have to pay for this.”
I hope the dogma of the political left and right don’t kill his idealism. I really hope he does well. I am certain there are many democrats I know that would never have said that about GWBush. Am I better than them? Yes I am. Much better, in fact. These people are shameful and despicable versions of America gone wrong. I can’t imagine the poison these people feed their families, friends, and children. I am no fan of far right dogma either. People like Rush Limbaugh and Ann Coulter do have a place in this world. Limbaugh is a brilliant satirist, and very entertaining given the correct ear. While I am kind to free speech, I think Coulter is just irritating and divisive, as are many of her conservative colleagues. At least they counter the noisy left fairly well, without yelling quite so much as ranting along the way. These people are nowhere near as smart as the true American conservatives and the real liberals I know. They are just more verbose and have a bigger microphone. And for those that wished W to fail and those who now wish Obama to fail??? For God’s sake… don’t these people realize that presidential failures become America’s failure?
I can tell you this. Hard times are ahead if we can’t kill dogma, and fast. Really hard times. If you are someone who falls in line behind your “party” quickly, you need a reality check. If you are someone who no longer has a party, you are not alone. This is the time for America to succeed or to fail. How we treat each other and what we demand of our government will determine our future.
Me? I have been disenfranchised for years now. I belong to nothing, and nothing represents me to my liking. This is how REAL change begins and how revolutions happen. I am not alone in the way I feel. There are some highly unstable people who feel the way I feel. If you aren’t scared, you should be.
Meanwhile, I am not participating in the recession. I was already living within my means. If you are participating, I hope you learned something. If not, you know what they say about history…
By Reed Nelson, March 2009
Let me state, for the record:
I am from one of the most conservative congressional districts in the US. The same congressman that was elected when I was in elementary school still serves today. That is a shame and a sham. So is Ted Kennedy [but I hope he beats brain cancer]. So are GHWBush, Clinton, GWBush… the globalist presidents who have collectively let the world wreck our economy with “free” trade policies. Of course, we did a good job of wrecking the world financial system on our own. I may have conservative roots, but I am no conservative. I am no liberal either. I am my own man. And I am really not happy about the lunacy that has gripped this country. I hope it is only temporary, but hope has been hijacked by our new president for now. I hate government intervention into my personal affairs. I can’t stand human rights abuse. I like guns. I think big business is just awesome. I drive a hybrid car. I compost. I own two rain barrels. I reuse. And I have been doing this for MUCH longer than it has ever been fashionable to do so, because I thought I was [gasp] being conservative. Don’t even THINK about trying to pigeonhole me.
I hope Obama kicks butt. I hope he is hope. But the fact is he is just a man. And when he uttered the phrase “hard work” in his inaugural speech I silently cheered and envisioned many of the people that voted for him looking bewildered at the same time. I can see it so clearly. “Surely he didn’t say ‘work,’ did he Johnny?”
“No Danny-boy, I don’t think so. Do you have any spare change?”
Thank God Barack Obama is a hard worker. Thank God he is actually a religious man. But wait, so was GWBush and that was a problem. The Dems don’t care now. Their guy is in office. But is it their guy? Work? Patriotism? Responsibility?
“Johnny, he just said responsibility… fire up another blunt and give it to me… quickly Johnny!”
“Danny-boy, calm down! We may need to start stretching our pennies!”
That’s right, Johnny and Danny. Happy days are not here again. Get to work and off my street corner. The last time I offered you food you would not take it… you only wanted money. I wonder why. But I am hard and jaded. I am a little ashamed of that sometimes.
Obama is a much better speaker than me…
“Time and again these men and women struggled and sacrificed and worked till their hands were raw so that we might live a better life.”
“For everywhere we look, there is work to be done.”
“… it is ultimately the faith and determination of the American people upon which this nation relies.”
“But those values upon which our success depends — hard work and honesty, courage and fair play, tolerance and curiosity, loyalty and patriotism — these things are old. These things are true.”
“What is required of us now is a new era of responsibility…”
Listen to Obama, just don’t listen to celebrities… no matter what the message may be. You can get more truth from real people… or garbage cans if you wish. Most of the America I know works. Celebrities do NOT work. Let’s get that straight right now. They live in a fantasy world you and I can scarcely imagine. Where wants are ALWAYS met. Where there are no needs left that can’t be bought or explained away. Where you don’t really matter unless they say you do.
America is by far the most generous and charitable nation on this planet. We should be. We are the richest. The only charity I give to right now goes to an El Salvadorian boy. That is the spirit of America. To me, the talk of pledging and giving that is going on right now is insulting. It insinuates that we have not been charitable enough. This is nonsense.
So back to Obama. He has, so far, appointed a couple of conservatives or moderates to key/cabinet positions. And where are all of the African-Americans? Well, most of the people completely enamored with Obama did not know of his peaceful history with opposite thinkers while he was president of the Harvard Law Review. They also did not know his “don’t tell me what to do” stands against the entrenched African-American elected of the Chicago political landscape. Heck, good ole Barry may be more of a maverick than McCain! Yet, with all of his stands against the expectations of the extreme, Obama seems to be able to maintain relations, to keep from alienating people. He is very skilled in this regard… very impressive. GWBush said he was a “uniter,” and turned out to be a divider. Much of this had to do with his refusal to be transparent and inability to effectively communicate.
I think Obama could be a great president. All of the things he has done or is doing so far are not exactly what is expected… but he is still not ticking most people off. While he campaigned on the nebulous ideas of hope and change and made these ideals his own, he is now bringing more concrete words and ideals into play. Justice. Patriotism. Work. Transparency. Ethics. I will say that fiscal conservatives know that paying for all this spending is going to be a rough road. I have heard many people I know in their 60’s say things like “Thank God I’ll be dead by the time we have to pay for this.”
I hope the dogma of the political left and right don’t kill his idealism. I really hope he does well. I am certain there are many democrats I know that would never have said that about GWBush. Am I better than them? Yes I am. Much better, in fact. These people are shameful and despicable versions of America gone wrong. I can’t imagine the poison these people feed their families, friends, and children. I am no fan of far right dogma either. People like Rush Limbaugh and Ann Coulter do have a place in this world. Limbaugh is a brilliant satirist, and very entertaining given the correct ear. While I am kind to free speech, I think Coulter is just irritating and divisive, as are many of her conservative colleagues. At least they counter the noisy left fairly well, without yelling quite so much as ranting along the way. These people are nowhere near as smart as the true American conservatives and the real liberals I know. They are just more verbose and have a bigger microphone. And for those that wished W to fail and those who now wish Obama to fail??? For God’s sake… don’t these people realize that presidential failures become America’s failure?
I can tell you this. Hard times are ahead if we can’t kill dogma, and fast. Really hard times. If you are someone who falls in line behind your “party” quickly, you need a reality check. If you are someone who no longer has a party, you are not alone. This is the time for America to succeed or to fail. How we treat each other and what we demand of our government will determine our future.
Me? I have been disenfranchised for years now. I belong to nothing, and nothing represents me to my liking. This is how REAL change begins and how revolutions happen. I am not alone in the way I feel. There are some highly unstable people who feel the way I feel. If you aren’t scared, you should be.
Meanwhile, I am not participating in the recession. I was already living within my means. If you are participating, I hope you learned something. If not, you know what they say about history…
Wednesday, October 29, 2008
Endless Trails At Kill Creek
Having run very little and ridden more than most rats this season, me and my companion rat decided to get back to the trails this fall. The Fall Fell 7-Mile Trail Run at Kill Creek Park in Olathe seemed to fit the bill.
It was a windy and slightly cool start, but really perfect running weather for rats. I actually wore shorts and a wicking short sleeved shirt. Rats look funny in those things, but you have to cover up!
The trail route consisted of several "lolly pops," and I thought I was going to be made to look like candy by day's end. The first section, on the hillside below Shelter #1, was very nice. Wooded with one field crossing. Made for rats. What I didn't like is the lady running with her frenetically panting dog behind me. I can't stand people who huff and puff, and dogs really make a rat nervous. Heel? Anyone? Doggie discipline? I let them pass just to ease my mind.
The route descended to the creek and we crossed it after a short road run. Then it was up and gnarly with rocks everywhere. This was rat heaven. I caught the panting dog and passed them. I was then passed by another dog which was much better at staying the hell out of my way! The owner was a guy and he was moving... how did he get behind me?
Then the confusion hit... I kept seeing the same rats. What the...??? Lolly pop lolly pop oh lolly lolly lolly lolly pop [pop]. Right hand turns only. Guess not for about 12 twelve rats. One left turn and you are screwed on this course. So I saw many rats more than one time, never knowing if I messed up and turned the wrong way. Many turns were not well marked, not marked at all, or unattended on this course. I think some rats filed complaints at the end.
Anyway, I finally reached the creek again at about the time I though I should and headed back to shelter #1. Two more ambiguous right turns took me home in 1:14 and some change. I targeted 1:15, so rats can be consistent with some practice!
Kill Creek was a beautiful park. Rat's like me would love it. I will be back this fall/winter to get lost on my own. I don't need a bad course plan to do that... and there will be no fee! Lovely!
It was a windy and slightly cool start, but really perfect running weather for rats. I actually wore shorts and a wicking short sleeved shirt. Rats look funny in those things, but you have to cover up!
The trail route consisted of several "lolly pops," and I thought I was going to be made to look like candy by day's end. The first section, on the hillside below Shelter #1, was very nice. Wooded with one field crossing. Made for rats. What I didn't like is the lady running with her frenetically panting dog behind me. I can't stand people who huff and puff, and dogs really make a rat nervous. Heel? Anyone? Doggie discipline? I let them pass just to ease my mind.
The route descended to the creek and we crossed it after a short road run. Then it was up and gnarly with rocks everywhere. This was rat heaven. I caught the panting dog and passed them. I was then passed by another dog which was much better at staying the hell out of my way! The owner was a guy and he was moving... how did he get behind me?
Then the confusion hit... I kept seeing the same rats. What the...??? Lolly pop lolly pop oh lolly lolly lolly lolly pop [pop]. Right hand turns only. Guess not for about 12 twelve rats. One left turn and you are screwed on this course. So I saw many rats more than one time, never knowing if I messed up and turned the wrong way. Many turns were not well marked, not marked at all, or unattended on this course. I think some rats filed complaints at the end.
Anyway, I finally reached the creek again at about the time I though I should and headed back to shelter #1. Two more ambiguous right turns took me home in 1:14 and some change. I targeted 1:15, so rats can be consistent with some practice!
Kill Creek was a beautiful park. Rat's like me would love it. I will be back this fall/winter to get lost on my own. I don't need a bad course plan to do that... and there will be no fee! Lovely!
Saturday, August 09, 2008
Aren't Rats Supposed To Love Running At Night?
It has been a while since this rat has written. Personal recollections written in the third person are quite fun to write, but can be difficult. The Trail Rat is back. It must be a Missouri thing?!
Before moving to Kansas City last month this rat joined some pesky biking and nerdy running groups on the web. It pays to be a smart little rat. And, you want to hang with rats of similar interests. So, it was on the mailings from the trail running group website that the dream event was unveiled. A NIGHT RUN... OMG!!! Rats are born to play in the dark. So it was without question that this rat would be there.
Such is this rat's love of trails. Not having run 10K recently, never been to Wyandotte Lake Park in KCity KS... this rat was not fully prepared. But at least the skills and knowledge of all things dark and wet and rocky and rooty are already present.
So here is the experience, back to first person, from a rat who is an area newbie........
I arrived fresh off a stop at Lowes for some AAA batteries for the headlamp. Rats can see OK in the dark, but rules are rules [sigh]. I was plenty early, and saw a couple of familiar faces from the previous Sunday AM run at Clinton Lake SP in Lawrence. I learned that Trail Nerds and Mud Babes RULE! You must understand that in all my travels and trails, their has never been such a large contingent of fellow rats. And, these Nerd and Babe rats are proficient trail stompers. Back in St Louis I remember trail rat wannabees getting medical treatments after events in the daylight, for rats sake! I remember Virginia being a trail rat's utopia - no better place in the east to run trails than Virginia in this rats opinion - but there weren't that many trail running rats. They were genetically altered into hiking rats. Can you believe it?!
I have to suit up for a run. Nipple tape. Body Glide on the toes. Wright socks. Runner's loops in the laces. Amphipod for the keys. Reinforcement tape to keep my number from ripping off the pins. I am kind of a high maintenance rat I guess. If it was hot I'd carry a hand towel, too. Some rats sweat more than others, so I've been told.
I am not sure which Trail Nerd gave the pre-race talk, but he was hilarious. The comment of the horseflies being relentless and following for up to 5 miles... classic. This is an amateur event and we are their for the love of it. You gotta have a laugh or two.
So we were off an across two ditches, straight up the hill and left into the woods on the bridle trail. I turned my rat lamp on right away and could see the difference. It would also let my beady little eyes adjust gradually. The trail was not too bad. About 5 humps to endure up and down, two clearings/road crossings on the way. And a good mix of singletrack, rocks, roots, and sucker-mud holes.
I talk on a trail. Not much at first, but later on watch out! Some of you may have heard me encourage or warn of obstacles. I am no hater. I hope you do your best and will help you do so if I can. At one point, just after the second clearing, I could have sworn I smelled french fries. How cruel is that??? What rat doesn't like fries? Was I hallucinating?
Anyway, the much ballyhooed Triangle section arrived. Warnings were given, but this type of trail is made for rats like me. Gnarled and twisted, just like my sense of humor. Root strewn and rolling like a good little rat trail should be. I think the winning rat did the .95 mile Triangle in a freakish 7:35??? See what a rat can do when properly motivated?! Amazing performance. Of course, little rat lights where all over the woods. Time disappeared. Did any fool rat check their silly little watch during this section? Shame on you!!! Directional awareness vanished in the twinkling lights dancing about; the darkness around us; and the trees among us stood still and strong and smiled at our efforts as they relaxed. Oh, the Triangle was rat paradise!
On the backtrack section my little clawed feet were getting hot on the arches. Certain shoes aren't so good for flat rat feet until after a few longer runs to toughen up. But it was no bother. I walked a couple of uphills, but otherwise ran respectably for a rat - with turtle tendencies - of course. I was alone by then, as the slate of fellow rats were spread out across the night scape.
It is amazing to clear the woods and run downhill to a finish. That is a nice touch. Someone volunteering remembered my name, and I am a sad fool rat not to remember his... my apologies and thanks to that man. I have no idea what my time was... I forgot to stop my silly watch. I hate watches, can you tell? I hate iPods, too... at least when working out. Glad I didn't see any on the trail... all of these rats seemed to be in tune with the right things... their bodies and spirits! There is a song there if you are willing to listen... I guarantee you. I am actually a quiet little rat most of the time, and didn't really know anyone. So, I had treats [Popsicle and water] before heading back to my den. A Boulevard Wheat beer and some Indian food was waiting for me.
Thanks to the Nerds for a unique event. Well done... even by rat standards!
Before moving to Kansas City last month this rat joined some pesky biking and nerdy running groups on the web. It pays to be a smart little rat. And, you want to hang with rats of similar interests. So, it was on the mailings from the trail running group website that the dream event was unveiled. A NIGHT RUN... OMG!!! Rats are born to play in the dark. So it was without question that this rat would be there.
Such is this rat's love of trails. Not having run 10K recently, never been to Wyandotte Lake Park in KCity KS... this rat was not fully prepared. But at least the skills and knowledge of all things dark and wet and rocky and rooty are already present.
So here is the experience, back to first person, from a rat who is an area newbie........
I arrived fresh off a stop at Lowes for some AAA batteries for the headlamp. Rats can see OK in the dark, but rules are rules [sigh]. I was plenty early, and saw a couple of familiar faces from the previous Sunday AM run at Clinton Lake SP in Lawrence. I learned that Trail Nerds and Mud Babes RULE! You must understand that in all my travels and trails, their has never been such a large contingent of fellow rats. And, these Nerd and Babe rats are proficient trail stompers. Back in St Louis I remember trail rat wannabees getting medical treatments after events in the daylight, for rats sake! I remember Virginia being a trail rat's utopia - no better place in the east to run trails than Virginia in this rats opinion - but there weren't that many trail running rats. They were genetically altered into hiking rats. Can you believe it?!
I have to suit up for a run. Nipple tape. Body Glide on the toes. Wright socks. Runner's loops in the laces. Amphipod for the keys. Reinforcement tape to keep my number from ripping off the pins. I am kind of a high maintenance rat I guess. If it was hot I'd carry a hand towel, too. Some rats sweat more than others, so I've been told.
I am not sure which Trail Nerd gave the pre-race talk, but he was hilarious. The comment of the horseflies being relentless and following for up to 5 miles... classic. This is an amateur event and we are their for the love of it. You gotta have a laugh or two.
So we were off an across two ditches, straight up the hill and left into the woods on the bridle trail. I turned my rat lamp on right away and could see the difference. It would also let my beady little eyes adjust gradually. The trail was not too bad. About 5 humps to endure up and down, two clearings/road crossings on the way. And a good mix of singletrack, rocks, roots, and sucker-mud holes.
I talk on a trail. Not much at first, but later on watch out! Some of you may have heard me encourage or warn of obstacles. I am no hater. I hope you do your best and will help you do so if I can. At one point, just after the second clearing, I could have sworn I smelled french fries. How cruel is that??? What rat doesn't like fries? Was I hallucinating?
Anyway, the much ballyhooed Triangle section arrived. Warnings were given, but this type of trail is made for rats like me. Gnarled and twisted, just like my sense of humor. Root strewn and rolling like a good little rat trail should be. I think the winning rat did the .95 mile Triangle in a freakish 7:35??? See what a rat can do when properly motivated?! Amazing performance. Of course, little rat lights where all over the woods. Time disappeared. Did any fool rat check their silly little watch during this section? Shame on you!!! Directional awareness vanished in the twinkling lights dancing about; the darkness around us; and the trees among us stood still and strong and smiled at our efforts as they relaxed. Oh, the Triangle was rat paradise!
On the backtrack section my little clawed feet were getting hot on the arches. Certain shoes aren't so good for flat rat feet until after a few longer runs to toughen up. But it was no bother. I walked a couple of uphills, but otherwise ran respectably for a rat - with turtle tendencies - of course. I was alone by then, as the slate of fellow rats were spread out across the night scape.
It is amazing to clear the woods and run downhill to a finish. That is a nice touch. Someone volunteering remembered my name, and I am a sad fool rat not to remember his... my apologies and thanks to that man. I have no idea what my time was... I forgot to stop my silly watch. I hate watches, can you tell? I hate iPods, too... at least when working out. Glad I didn't see any on the trail... all of these rats seemed to be in tune with the right things... their bodies and spirits! There is a song there if you are willing to listen... I guarantee you. I am actually a quiet little rat most of the time, and didn't really know anyone. So, I had treats [Popsicle and water] before heading back to my den. A Boulevard Wheat beer and some Indian food was waiting for me.
Thanks to the Nerds for a unique event. Well done... even by rat standards!
Tuesday, November 01, 2005
Mulberry Half Report 2005
This has been a slow season for running for me. The moving and shaking about in my life has been quite consuming. I have only done a triathlon... and that is just about all as far as organized events go. But, I have kept in good shape for the most part. I run three times a week, and try to do the all-important long run. I cross train by season and just have fun for the most part. I am pretty whimsical compared to 2004, when an early season half marathon and late season full marathon really kept me focused.
So, it was with great hesitation that I entered the Mulberry Island Half Marathon on OCT 1st. In fact, it was with such hesitation that I entered on the deadline date of SEPT 23rd! I was sure to be as slow to run the event as I was to enter it, so I thought I had some kind of synergy working.
The 25th Annual version of this local race was held at Fort Eustis VA, on the Chesapeake Bay side of the VA Peninsula. The area is chockablock with trees and water... very pretty. And, being on an active base gives a civilian access to a seldom seen geography.
I will never get race mornings down, and this particular event proves that much is out of our control. Active.com said there was an 8am start. The event brochure said 845am. Which to believe? I chose 8am and was wrong. At least I was early! So in the darn-near-dark drive through the bridge tunnel, the morning overcast had me feeling pretty good about the weather. Even better, the temperatures were hovering in the 60’s. Perfect! But, I was EARLY. By the time the artillery fired [yes… not a horn or a pistol… we are talking pee-your-pants-loud military ordinance], it was in the 70’s and sunny. In just 45 minutes conditions went from perfect to acceptable.
Now, I had a plan. At or just below a 10-minute pace until late in the run, then do what my body told me to do. The first three miles led out to the bay and the first of two course turnarounds. It was early and I was entertained by some of the chatter of the 200 or so runners talking. At the first turnaround, one obviously military guy [to me, anyway] was sandwiched between two “runners” in front. I can tell such things by body type. “Runners” don’t generally carry as much muscle around… it just doesn’t help them to do that. They were at mile four and the spread was already over one minute between first and third place. Meanwhile, I started at a 9:52 pace and had stuck to it with amazing accuracy. My variance against that pace over the first four miles… one second!
Miles 5 through 8 provided some inland hardwood scenery and more entertainment. Through some lovely shaded roads, consumed a couple of gels and watched other runners coming from the second turnaround. They were really spread out now. The two runners had dismissed the young military dude by quite a margin. People in my turtle section of the race were still chatting, with two guys even diving to the side of the road and into the woods for a nature call. Too funny! I don’t talk too much during runs. I run on rhythm, so I get pretty deep in concentration. For my dead reckoning of pace, I use breath counts and cadence. At the eight-mile mark my variance was still under 10 seconds. I felt superb!
I had been using an average cadence with a six-step breath count [3 steps inhale and 3 steps exhale]. I really don’t know what approach other runners take. I guess I am a little curious about that. All I know is the breath/cadence method I use is accurate for pacing and feedback. Since I felt superb, I decided that I could bump things up for the final five plus miles. So, I switched to a 5-breath count [2 inhale and 3 exhale]. I slowly increased my cadence to medium-high turtle level. It takes a few minutes to figure out if the change will groove or not. By mile 9 I was rolling along in a new rhythm that I knew would stick. I saw a mile marker that led me to believe I could break a personal goal time of 125 minutes. So with about 5K to go I bumped the pace a little more by lengthening my stride. I also started to gradually increase my cadence to a four-breath rhythm. This is a “last move” for me. I bump my rev limiter after about 30 minutes when I take this approach.
I had covered the first eight miles in about 78:45. And my legs were starting to go numb with the increased pace in the final miles. I thought a lot to myself in those final miles. I thought of how this would test my threshold. I thought of whether or not I would actually have a kick left at the finish. It is very inspiring to do nothing but pass people in the final stages of a race, even as a turtle! So my energy was very high. With less than I mile to go, I realized that the mile marker I had seen a couple of mile back was one of the many military training markers on the road surface. I have no chance of the goal time, but I knew a PR was inevitable. It felt good to finish strong and really dominate what I had done last year. My three previous Half Marathons were 158 minutes [Quivering Quads], 131 minutes and 130 minutes. I crossed the line at 126.5 minutes this time. Cool! That means my pace was 9:21 for the last 5 miles. I was likely a sub-9 miler for the last two miles. Not bad for a turtle!
It was all very sweet for me. I had not trained as much this year. As a result, I believe I felt fresh for the event and did better than I thought I could. I also recovered unlike any other lengthy run I had ever done. The two days following the event were remarkably without soreness. I ran last night after a couple of days off. There was a little extra confidence in my steps. It felt really solid. Summer has ended for me in a perfect way. I hope all other runners feel this way at some point. Regardless of their relative speeds, it always feels good to be in “the zone.”
So, it was with great hesitation that I entered the Mulberry Island Half Marathon on OCT 1st. In fact, it was with such hesitation that I entered on the deadline date of SEPT 23rd! I was sure to be as slow to run the event as I was to enter it, so I thought I had some kind of synergy working.
The 25th Annual version of this local race was held at Fort Eustis VA, on the Chesapeake Bay side of the VA Peninsula. The area is chockablock with trees and water... very pretty. And, being on an active base gives a civilian access to a seldom seen geography.
I will never get race mornings down, and this particular event proves that much is out of our control. Active.com said there was an 8am start. The event brochure said 845am. Which to believe? I chose 8am and was wrong. At least I was early! So in the darn-near-dark drive through the bridge tunnel, the morning overcast had me feeling pretty good about the weather. Even better, the temperatures were hovering in the 60’s. Perfect! But, I was EARLY. By the time the artillery fired [yes… not a horn or a pistol… we are talking pee-your-pants-loud military ordinance], it was in the 70’s and sunny. In just 45 minutes conditions went from perfect to acceptable.
Now, I had a plan. At or just below a 10-minute pace until late in the run, then do what my body told me to do. The first three miles led out to the bay and the first of two course turnarounds. It was early and I was entertained by some of the chatter of the 200 or so runners talking. At the first turnaround, one obviously military guy [to me, anyway] was sandwiched between two “runners” in front. I can tell such things by body type. “Runners” don’t generally carry as much muscle around… it just doesn’t help them to do that. They were at mile four and the spread was already over one minute between first and third place. Meanwhile, I started at a 9:52 pace and had stuck to it with amazing accuracy. My variance against that pace over the first four miles… one second!
Miles 5 through 8 provided some inland hardwood scenery and more entertainment. Through some lovely shaded roads, consumed a couple of gels and watched other runners coming from the second turnaround. They were really spread out now. The two runners had dismissed the young military dude by quite a margin. People in my turtle section of the race were still chatting, with two guys even diving to the side of the road and into the woods for a nature call. Too funny! I don’t talk too much during runs. I run on rhythm, so I get pretty deep in concentration. For my dead reckoning of pace, I use breath counts and cadence. At the eight-mile mark my variance was still under 10 seconds. I felt superb!
I had been using an average cadence with a six-step breath count [3 steps inhale and 3 steps exhale]. I really don’t know what approach other runners take. I guess I am a little curious about that. All I know is the breath/cadence method I use is accurate for pacing and feedback. Since I felt superb, I decided that I could bump things up for the final five plus miles. So, I switched to a 5-breath count [2 inhale and 3 exhale]. I slowly increased my cadence to medium-high turtle level. It takes a few minutes to figure out if the change will groove or not. By mile 9 I was rolling along in a new rhythm that I knew would stick. I saw a mile marker that led me to believe I could break a personal goal time of 125 minutes. So with about 5K to go I bumped the pace a little more by lengthening my stride. I also started to gradually increase my cadence to a four-breath rhythm. This is a “last move” for me. I bump my rev limiter after about 30 minutes when I take this approach.
I had covered the first eight miles in about 78:45. And my legs were starting to go numb with the increased pace in the final miles. I thought a lot to myself in those final miles. I thought of how this would test my threshold. I thought of whether or not I would actually have a kick left at the finish. It is very inspiring to do nothing but pass people in the final stages of a race, even as a turtle! So my energy was very high. With less than I mile to go, I realized that the mile marker I had seen a couple of mile back was one of the many military training markers on the road surface. I have no chance of the goal time, but I knew a PR was inevitable. It felt good to finish strong and really dominate what I had done last year. My three previous Half Marathons were 158 minutes [Quivering Quads], 131 minutes and 130 minutes. I crossed the line at 126.5 minutes this time. Cool! That means my pace was 9:21 for the last 5 miles. I was likely a sub-9 miler for the last two miles. Not bad for a turtle!
It was all very sweet for me. I had not trained as much this year. As a result, I believe I felt fresh for the event and did better than I thought I could. I also recovered unlike any other lengthy run I had ever done. The two days following the event were remarkably without soreness. I ran last night after a couple of days off. There was a little extra confidence in my steps. It felt really solid. Summer has ended for me in a perfect way. I hope all other runners feel this way at some point. Regardless of their relative speeds, it always feels good to be in “the zone.”
Thursday, June 09, 2005
That’s Right Sir – I’m No Tri-geek!
That’s Right Sir – I’m No Tri-geek!
JUNE 2005
Oooooh. That feels good! Water sloshing around at 82F always feels good. I knew that as I progressed through my training for my first ever triathlon. I had done the bike portion as a team member before, but I had never done the whole thing alone. Swimming was definitely the focal point of training for me. I could bike in the top 10%, I knew that by looking at past year performances in the race. I could crawl to the finish, I thought. I might have to after the swim and bike portions. But, the 65F swim in murky Willoughby Bay [part of the Chesapeake Bay] kept coming back to my mind. How cold is 65F when you are swimming? How many times will I get kicked and elbowed? Will I see a dolphin charging at me out of the darkness to investigate all of the commotion? God forbid!
I am going to be totally transparent here. I have been training pretty consistently for about two years. I am very confident in my ability to reach personal goals in my athletic endeavors. I have no fear of registering last-minute for just about anything half-marathon distance and under and being able to complete the event. I’m not going to dominate anyone, and really don’t care to. I have always raced myself. And this case was no different. I had my own goals of 25s-2.5t-32b-2t-29r for a total of about 1:31. That would be fine for me. I thought that I’d leave it all out on the bike course and have my glory there [if I didn’t drown]. Then, I could just coast to the finish with an easy jog. Yeah… right!
The night before the event I laid out all the gear I would need. I took it out to the car and slept well all night. That was a good plan! I arrived at the race a little later than planned, but gear check went fast. I placed my bike and gear and walked back to the car to suit up for the swim. After about 30 minutes I was back in the start area when I noticed that my bike was on the wrong rack. They penalize you for time if that is the case, so I replaced my bike and gear on the proper rack and went back for the start. No big deal, and worth a few laughs. The race announcer kept calling out race numbers who were in bike-rack-purgatory. I am just glad I caught mine before everyone knew about it!
The cattle herd starting waves progressed until I waded into the water. It was bracing. Thirty seconds later I was swimming and trying to find a rhythm. It never came. About 250 meters into the swim I knew I had a problem. No vision, too many kicks [both to me and by me], too cold, and too nervous. So I would freestyle 50 meters and breast stroke 25 meters. Then I remembered that I sucked so bad at breast stroke that I’d rather drown. So, back to freestyle. About 600 meters in I inhaled some water when I kicked a guy so hard it hurt my foot. People were swimming into each other because they couldn’t see a damn thing! I went to alternating a vigorous sidestroke and freestyle. The shore grew large and I walked out of the water and across the chip pad at 26:04 for the 1000 meter swim. That was good for 586th out of 710 participants. Perhaps I should have drowned! [The Grand Lesson… train for race conditions. Training in a “laboratory” environment will not work in most instances]
T1 was fun! I sat down and peeled off my shorty wet suit. I wipe down my feet and legs and slid into my bike tights. Then I struggled with my socks and jersey, sticking to every moist patch of skin. [Newsflash… Lesson 1… 10 more seconds drying off is better than 45 seconds of struggling with sticky and wet garments and skin. Finally, the helmet was strapped and off I went to the transition exit. Ooooops. I ran to the entry point I had used to bring in my equipment, but it was closed. The exit was now the furthest point away in the transition zone! None of the volunteers said anything to me. I was left to find my own way. [Newsflash… Lesson 2… scope out the T-zone before the race]. T1 was an astonishingly turtle-like 4:25!
I got onto the bike and hit it pretty hard. I warmed up fast. The streets were a bit bumpy on the Norfolk Naval Air Station, so everyone got a little beat up. I saw two guys changing tires… bummer. I was technically very solid. Cutting the apex of the curves, staying down on the airstryke bars I use through corners, passing without drafting, and gear selection were all solid. I slid into T2 with a chip time of 35:08. That put me at 106th out of 710. My age division [35-39] actually had the vast majority of the fastest bike times. Chalk one up for the “experienced” group. It was a breezy day at Breezy Point. Living up to its name, the fastest average bike speed was 24.6 mph.
T2 was not fun. I missed my bike aisle and had to do a circle around the entire length of the aisle back to my bike. Once again I was running circles in cycling shoes. [Newsflash… Lesson 3… use some unique way of marking your bike or your aisle if you need to. A ribbon or something like that would work great] Some jar-head volunteer was yelling at me and I was not taking it well. I thought he was a spectator! I was in real turtle mode now, double knotting my shoes and glaring at the T2 drill instructor as he screamed on and on “… this is a sprint triathlon people, this ain’t no Boston Marathon!” Really? You think? [Moron] [Newsflash… Lesson 4… use speed laces, and if you have to change shirts, do it while you run] I beat my previous transition by a whole second, posting the second-longest T2 time of the day in a molasses-like 4:24!
It had warmed up well into the 80’s and it was humid, so my run strategy of jogging was looking pretty good! I was in good spirits. I might have started a little faster, but a tweak in my calf told me to take it easy. That I did! I saw one dude puke and walk over to a loading dock stairway and sit down. I felt good, but I knew that my goal times were a complete bust. So, finishing happy was the only goal left. Running through a military base is not a scenic adventure. It was with great joy that most of the competitors made the final turn and ran down an old section of tarmac along the bay to the finish line. I finished happy and thirsty, as the effort and the heat left me a little dehydrated. I actually sprinted the last 200+ meters. Crazy to even give the effort considering my T times! 1:41 and some change. 509th out of 710.
Would I do it again? No sir… I am no tri-geek. As many of the participants loaded their bikes and made the short trip to the after-party, I quietly went home to relax. Enough is enough. This was a sprint race, not an epic… no sense in making it an epic. I guess my jar-head DI friend was right. Perhaps a pool start would entice me, but for now I’ll be checking into biathlons, duathlons, and other similarly ill-advised pursuits. I will also continue to lap swim at least once a week. One of these days I might actually be considered proficient! I have always considered myself to be a doer and a survivor. Doers are willing to try anything at least once. Survivors know when to declare victory and move on.
JUNE 2005
Oooooh. That feels good! Water sloshing around at 82F always feels good. I knew that as I progressed through my training for my first ever triathlon. I had done the bike portion as a team member before, but I had never done the whole thing alone. Swimming was definitely the focal point of training for me. I could bike in the top 10%, I knew that by looking at past year performances in the race. I could crawl to the finish, I thought. I might have to after the swim and bike portions. But, the 65F swim in murky Willoughby Bay [part of the Chesapeake Bay] kept coming back to my mind. How cold is 65F when you are swimming? How many times will I get kicked and elbowed? Will I see a dolphin charging at me out of the darkness to investigate all of the commotion? God forbid!
I am going to be totally transparent here. I have been training pretty consistently for about two years. I am very confident in my ability to reach personal goals in my athletic endeavors. I have no fear of registering last-minute for just about anything half-marathon distance and under and being able to complete the event. I’m not going to dominate anyone, and really don’t care to. I have always raced myself. And this case was no different. I had my own goals of 25s-2.5t-32b-2t-29r for a total of about 1:31. That would be fine for me. I thought that I’d leave it all out on the bike course and have my glory there [if I didn’t drown]. Then, I could just coast to the finish with an easy jog. Yeah… right!
The night before the event I laid out all the gear I would need. I took it out to the car and slept well all night. That was a good plan! I arrived at the race a little later than planned, but gear check went fast. I placed my bike and gear and walked back to the car to suit up for the swim. After about 30 minutes I was back in the start area when I noticed that my bike was on the wrong rack. They penalize you for time if that is the case, so I replaced my bike and gear on the proper rack and went back for the start. No big deal, and worth a few laughs. The race announcer kept calling out race numbers who were in bike-rack-purgatory. I am just glad I caught mine before everyone knew about it!
The cattle herd starting waves progressed until I waded into the water. It was bracing. Thirty seconds later I was swimming and trying to find a rhythm. It never came. About 250 meters into the swim I knew I had a problem. No vision, too many kicks [both to me and by me], too cold, and too nervous. So I would freestyle 50 meters and breast stroke 25 meters. Then I remembered that I sucked so bad at breast stroke that I’d rather drown. So, back to freestyle. About 600 meters in I inhaled some water when I kicked a guy so hard it hurt my foot. People were swimming into each other because they couldn’t see a damn thing! I went to alternating a vigorous sidestroke and freestyle. The shore grew large and I walked out of the water and across the chip pad at 26:04 for the 1000 meter swim. That was good for 586th out of 710 participants. Perhaps I should have drowned! [The Grand Lesson… train for race conditions. Training in a “laboratory” environment will not work in most instances]
T1 was fun! I sat down and peeled off my shorty wet suit. I wipe down my feet and legs and slid into my bike tights. Then I struggled with my socks and jersey, sticking to every moist patch of skin. [Newsflash… Lesson 1… 10 more seconds drying off is better than 45 seconds of struggling with sticky and wet garments and skin. Finally, the helmet was strapped and off I went to the transition exit. Ooooops. I ran to the entry point I had used to bring in my equipment, but it was closed. The exit was now the furthest point away in the transition zone! None of the volunteers said anything to me. I was left to find my own way. [Newsflash… Lesson 2… scope out the T-zone before the race]. T1 was an astonishingly turtle-like 4:25!
I got onto the bike and hit it pretty hard. I warmed up fast. The streets were a bit bumpy on the Norfolk Naval Air Station, so everyone got a little beat up. I saw two guys changing tires… bummer. I was technically very solid. Cutting the apex of the curves, staying down on the airstryke bars I use through corners, passing without drafting, and gear selection were all solid. I slid into T2 with a chip time of 35:08. That put me at 106th out of 710. My age division [35-39] actually had the vast majority of the fastest bike times. Chalk one up for the “experienced” group. It was a breezy day at Breezy Point. Living up to its name, the fastest average bike speed was 24.6 mph.
T2 was not fun. I missed my bike aisle and had to do a circle around the entire length of the aisle back to my bike. Once again I was running circles in cycling shoes. [Newsflash… Lesson 3… use some unique way of marking your bike or your aisle if you need to. A ribbon or something like that would work great] Some jar-head volunteer was yelling at me and I was not taking it well. I thought he was a spectator! I was in real turtle mode now, double knotting my shoes and glaring at the T2 drill instructor as he screamed on and on “… this is a sprint triathlon people, this ain’t no Boston Marathon!” Really? You think? [Moron] [Newsflash… Lesson 4… use speed laces, and if you have to change shirts, do it while you run] I beat my previous transition by a whole second, posting the second-longest T2 time of the day in a molasses-like 4:24!
It had warmed up well into the 80’s and it was humid, so my run strategy of jogging was looking pretty good! I was in good spirits. I might have started a little faster, but a tweak in my calf told me to take it easy. That I did! I saw one dude puke and walk over to a loading dock stairway and sit down. I felt good, but I knew that my goal times were a complete bust. So, finishing happy was the only goal left. Running through a military base is not a scenic adventure. It was with great joy that most of the competitors made the final turn and ran down an old section of tarmac along the bay to the finish line. I finished happy and thirsty, as the effort and the heat left me a little dehydrated. I actually sprinted the last 200+ meters. Crazy to even give the effort considering my T times! 1:41 and some change. 509th out of 710.
Would I do it again? No sir… I am no tri-geek. As many of the participants loaded their bikes and made the short trip to the after-party, I quietly went home to relax. Enough is enough. This was a sprint race, not an epic… no sense in making it an epic. I guess my jar-head DI friend was right. Perhaps a pool start would entice me, but for now I’ll be checking into biathlons, duathlons, and other similarly ill-advised pursuits. I will also continue to lap swim at least once a week. One of these days I might actually be considered proficient! I have always considered myself to be a doer and a survivor. Doers are willing to try anything at least once. Survivors know when to declare victory and move on.
Monday, May 09, 2005
Looking down the barrel and seeing darkness
Looking down the barrel and seeing darkness
~Reed Nelson~
JUNE 2005
Just a quick note from me this month. There is a lot going on, but I was not sure what to put here. So, I will give you my personal horizon. I joined about 6,000 people in Chicago in 1992 and did the bike portion of the triathlon with two other gentlemen from my employer at the time. I really smoked the course. It was flat and I am actually pretty accomplished as a power rider when I am in shape for such efforts. I love biking… I really do. I have another triathlon coming up this weekend. This time I have to do it all. It will be my first solo effort. It is sprint distance, so no worries there. The biking is again flat, so I will likely blow past a lot of people and might even be fortunate enough to have an age group best time. The run is easy, too… but I will lose nearly 4 minutes per mile to the best runners in my age group. This is very humbling. And then there is swimming. Murky water with a temperature of 61F is on tap. I have never done any competitive swimming, and have just learned to swim 1,000 meters without cardiac arrest. So, my horizon is murky darkness. God forbid I see any fish, as I might be startled enough to inhale a bunch of salt water. Ever seen someone throw up while riding a bike at 25+mph? Yet another fear will be confronted and conquered as I do this, so I suppose I shouldn’t complain. Did I mention how cold the water is going to be???
~Reed Nelson~
JUNE 2005
Just a quick note from me this month. There is a lot going on, but I was not sure what to put here. So, I will give you my personal horizon. I joined about 6,000 people in Chicago in 1992 and did the bike portion of the triathlon with two other gentlemen from my employer at the time. I really smoked the course. It was flat and I am actually pretty accomplished as a power rider when I am in shape for such efforts. I love biking… I really do. I have another triathlon coming up this weekend. This time I have to do it all. It will be my first solo effort. It is sprint distance, so no worries there. The biking is again flat, so I will likely blow past a lot of people and might even be fortunate enough to have an age group best time. The run is easy, too… but I will lose nearly 4 minutes per mile to the best runners in my age group. This is very humbling. And then there is swimming. Murky water with a temperature of 61F is on tap. I have never done any competitive swimming, and have just learned to swim 1,000 meters without cardiac arrest. So, my horizon is murky darkness. God forbid I see any fish, as I might be startled enough to inhale a bunch of salt water. Ever seen someone throw up while riding a bike at 25+mph? Yet another fear will be confronted and conquered as I do this, so I suppose I shouldn’t complain. Did I mention how cold the water is going to be???
Sunday, May 01, 2005
Want To Run The Kentucky Derby?
Want To Run The Kentucky Derby?
~Reed “Trail Rat” Nelson~
MAY 2005
It is actually a simple thing to do if you are a horse and can sprint for a mile at about a 1:47 pace. Otherwise, you are a human, and that pace should humble you right out of your Asics. Can you imaging running 10mph faster than any human has ever run? Can you imagine that you’d have to be an elite cyclist to beat a Derby contender using pedal power? Oops, you’d still need pavement.
Well, so much for the pep talks and Rat Tales. Let’s get right down to it, shall we? Humans are weak! I mean, athletically we are pretty pathetic compared to other species. Domestication has cost us dearly. [excuse me while I get another calf’s shank on which to chew]. If you relate strength and speed to size and weight, most wild animals can run rings around us or just fling us aside. It is all quite depressing.
So, if we are not to run [or bike] with horses, swing with monkeys or leap with leopards what are we to do? Well, I just wanted everyone to be humbled into the gym to pump some iron a few times a week. That is my goal here. Unless you are competing on an elite marathoner pedestal, you are going to be much better off as you age if you hit the weights. And I would bet you get faster, too.
I’m certain that most of us have heard the stories. Weight training increases bone density, retards the effects of aging, and brings about a host of other benefits. But, why is it that I see so few runners putting 45-pound plates on a bar? There is a disconnect. I think runners are afraid they will become bulky or will injure themselves. Or they do not think it is an intense workout. Let me tackle those issues with a runner’s speed.
First, let’s look at bulking up. In the past 20 months I have lifted 2 to 3 times per week. I do not skimp on weight. I lift! I started weighing in at 216 pounds and now tip the scales in the low 170’s. I lift more weight now than I did when I started. I can row, bench press, and pull up more than my body weight. I can easily press several of our smaller members above my head several times. Remember, I accomplished all of these strength gains while losing 40+ pounds. Bulking up [or not] is a matter of diet. You have to eat more than you burn to gain weight. That is a fact. Just the opposite is true, too. You have to burn more than you eat to lose weight. And, I will tell you that protein is your friend if you are lifting and losing at the same time. You certainly don’t want to lose muscle! Anyway, the bulking up worry is nonsense.
Second, there is the question of injury. This one I agree with. I would love to be able to lift with a blindfold on, as I watch people every week that just drive me insane. They accelerate weights too fast, lower them too fast, hyperextend their joints, and use varying forms that reduce results and increase chances of injury. If I had my own gym, NOBODY would work out until they completed instruction on each apparatus. If they injure themselves or get poor results, they won’t be customers for very long. The fitness club business is in dire need of a redo. But, that is another story. Fifty bucks on a trainer and you will likely never see an injury from lifting. Let them know your goals… strength, proper form, and aerobic gains.
Segue. Can we lift and get secondary aerobic gains? Aren’t weight-training sessions anaerobic? Well, yes and yes! But [newsflash], hill and sprint repeats are anaerobic too! Silly humans! The key is that you don’t rest between repeats when you run, you just slow down. You vacillate between anaerobic and aerobic condition. And what happens? You get STRONGER! It is the same with weights. Again, just put on blinders and get ready to be assertive. You will need blinders to ignore the resting fools that are standing around socializing between sets. You will need to be assertive to jump on a machine that someone was using for a lounger between sets for a quick set of your own. Don’t be shy! I am a madman in the weight room. Briskly walking from machine to machine. Using three different sets of dumbbells at the same bench at the same time. Sweating, crying, drinking spitting, huffing and puffing. I am a runaway locomotive. What does this get me? Strength increases in about 15 minutes per session. That’s right. I blow through 24 sets of weightlifting in about 15 minutes. Still time for a run or a ride? You bet… maybe both!
So, you can believe the Bowflex hype. Just 20 minutes a day 3 times a week is all you need. Now, if we could just let people know that is not the case with aerobic fitness. You can’t gain much fitness in 1 hour of cumulative aerobics per week. But you CAN gain STRENGTH. But, most of you are already aerobic gods and goddesses. Add some strength training and see what happens by fall of this year. Do it right, and then let me know if I am full of dung. I am placing bets that I will not receive any calls. Any takers???
~Reed “Trail Rat” Nelson~
MAY 2005
It is actually a simple thing to do if you are a horse and can sprint for a mile at about a 1:47 pace. Otherwise, you are a human, and that pace should humble you right out of your Asics. Can you imaging running 10mph faster than any human has ever run? Can you imagine that you’d have to be an elite cyclist to beat a Derby contender using pedal power? Oops, you’d still need pavement.
Well, so much for the pep talks and Rat Tales. Let’s get right down to it, shall we? Humans are weak! I mean, athletically we are pretty pathetic compared to other species. Domestication has cost us dearly. [excuse me while I get another calf’s shank on which to chew]. If you relate strength and speed to size and weight, most wild animals can run rings around us or just fling us aside. It is all quite depressing.
So, if we are not to run [or bike] with horses, swing with monkeys or leap with leopards what are we to do? Well, I just wanted everyone to be humbled into the gym to pump some iron a few times a week. That is my goal here. Unless you are competing on an elite marathoner pedestal, you are going to be much better off as you age if you hit the weights. And I would bet you get faster, too.
I’m certain that most of us have heard the stories. Weight training increases bone density, retards the effects of aging, and brings about a host of other benefits. But, why is it that I see so few runners putting 45-pound plates on a bar? There is a disconnect. I think runners are afraid they will become bulky or will injure themselves. Or they do not think it is an intense workout. Let me tackle those issues with a runner’s speed.
First, let’s look at bulking up. In the past 20 months I have lifted 2 to 3 times per week. I do not skimp on weight. I lift! I started weighing in at 216 pounds and now tip the scales in the low 170’s. I lift more weight now than I did when I started. I can row, bench press, and pull up more than my body weight. I can easily press several of our smaller members above my head several times. Remember, I accomplished all of these strength gains while losing 40+ pounds. Bulking up [or not] is a matter of diet. You have to eat more than you burn to gain weight. That is a fact. Just the opposite is true, too. You have to burn more than you eat to lose weight. And, I will tell you that protein is your friend if you are lifting and losing at the same time. You certainly don’t want to lose muscle! Anyway, the bulking up worry is nonsense.
Second, there is the question of injury. This one I agree with. I would love to be able to lift with a blindfold on, as I watch people every week that just drive me insane. They accelerate weights too fast, lower them too fast, hyperextend their joints, and use varying forms that reduce results and increase chances of injury. If I had my own gym, NOBODY would work out until they completed instruction on each apparatus. If they injure themselves or get poor results, they won’t be customers for very long. The fitness club business is in dire need of a redo. But, that is another story. Fifty bucks on a trainer and you will likely never see an injury from lifting. Let them know your goals… strength, proper form, and aerobic gains.
Segue. Can we lift and get secondary aerobic gains? Aren’t weight-training sessions anaerobic? Well, yes and yes! But [newsflash], hill and sprint repeats are anaerobic too! Silly humans! The key is that you don’t rest between repeats when you run, you just slow down. You vacillate between anaerobic and aerobic condition. And what happens? You get STRONGER! It is the same with weights. Again, just put on blinders and get ready to be assertive. You will need blinders to ignore the resting fools that are standing around socializing between sets. You will need to be assertive to jump on a machine that someone was using for a lounger between sets for a quick set of your own. Don’t be shy! I am a madman in the weight room. Briskly walking from machine to machine. Using three different sets of dumbbells at the same bench at the same time. Sweating, crying, drinking spitting, huffing and puffing. I am a runaway locomotive. What does this get me? Strength increases in about 15 minutes per session. That’s right. I blow through 24 sets of weightlifting in about 15 minutes. Still time for a run or a ride? You bet… maybe both!
So, you can believe the Bowflex hype. Just 20 minutes a day 3 times a week is all you need. Now, if we could just let people know that is not the case with aerobic fitness. You can’t gain much fitness in 1 hour of cumulative aerobics per week. But you CAN gain STRENGTH. But, most of you are already aerobic gods and goddesses. Add some strength training and see what happens by fall of this year. Do it right, and then let me know if I am full of dung. I am placing bets that I will not receive any calls. Any takers???
Saturday, April 09, 2005
Trail Rat on the Endless Seven
Trail Rat on the Endless Seven
~Reed “Trail Rat” Nelson~
APRIL 2005
Most rats have run in some pretty exotic places. This rat dares not name his favorite places he has spent his tread. Well, what the heck, maybe a few highlights!
Most Beautiful – The deck of a Royal Caribbean cruise ship for 10K
Hottest – El Corridor Highway in Los Cabos for 5 miles
Coldest – The last Saturday AM club run in Jan 2004 was pretty chilly!
Hilliest – Running out of the New River Gorge in WV in 1996
Flattest – well…
I suppose it is time for a more recent rat tale. Virginia Beach is flat, aside from a few dunes to sprint over. I mean, you really have to be creative. Sometimes you just have to give up and run the flats! Sooooo… back to my handy little biking book I went. Now, you all know they don’t make a lot of bikes for us four-legged types, so I really bought the book to scope out trail runs.
It seems that a long time ago there were a few slaves that escaped and hid out in a nearby swamp. President Washington visited this 1,000,000 acre wetland and decided he would dig a series of ditches and try to drain it. Well, he might as well have spit into the wind! But ole George created some mighty fine roads through the swamp when the ditches and canals were made. In fact, one of the first monuments named after a president resulted. Washington Ditch spans about 4.2 miles from the edge of the swamp to the mysterious Lake Drummond. A raised road was made with the dirt from the ditch. Voila… a trail run!
Now, many of you may think of flats as a blessing. Or, maybe you think they are just plain easy. Me? Despite my four legs I personally struggle with flats. This was a nightmare waiting to unfold. I quick glance at the historical marker and off I went. My girlfriend was with me, so that was a good thing. We started with a brisk walk and advanced into jogging speed. We’re lucky, because we run pretty fast for rats. I’d guess about 6.5mph to begin with, and about 6.7mph as a pace.
At that pace, the scenery is still very observable. From a rat’s view, it was paradise! Wet swamp lands and fallen timbers were everywhere. Ah ah! I forgot to mention that the original 1,000,000 acres had been harvested of timber over the years, and now about 125,000 acres remain. Hey, don’t be sad mister and miss Tree Hugger. The area is in splendid condition and free of logging since the early 1900’s, and still the largest wetland reserve in the eastern US. Anyway, the remnants of past logging is evident in the amount of deadfall and decay. I was so tempted to take my four little legs off-trail. But, custom waders for us rats are expensive, and I only use mine for fly-fishing.
As I looked down the corridor of trees I swore it was just another Hollywood backdrop. It didn’t seem real. But, the grind in my muscles and joints did not vary. The same view. The same feel. Mental entropy occurred [that means chaos], and I was immediately dreaming of our Lake Drummond arrival alternately with the sound of spring traps being activated. You know how that makes a rat feel? Of course you don’t! Silly humans. But, I still noticed the crickets and katydids and all the other delicacies making noise. It really was rat heaven… I felt better. The corridor was interrupted once by an intersecting ditch/road combo. And on it went. And on. But an end appeared to materialize, and as we jogged on, it became real. There was A TURN. Wow! A change of direction! And so as we made the dogleg right another end appeared. Then another dogleg right revealed a massive lake with a landing dock and a free spotting scope.
Lake Drummond is massive. My partner asked me how far it would be to jog around it [if there was a road]. I estimated 20 to 25 miles. It was an impressive sight. Impression depends on perspective. Witness these writings on Lake Drummond
Canoeing Sketches, John Boyle O'Reilly, From: Athletics and Manly Sport, Boston: Pilot Publishing Company, 1890
The Lake of the Dismal Swamp is the very eye of material anguish. Its circle of silvery beach is flooded and hidden, and still the pent-up water, vainly beseeching an outlet, is raised and driven in unnatural enmity to the roots of the tall juniper, cypress, and gum trees, that completely surround its shore. The waves that should murmur and break on a strand of incomparable brilliancy, are pushed beyond their proper limits, and compelled to soften and sap the productive earth; to wash bare and white the sinews of the friendly trees, and inundate a wide region of extraordinary fertility. The bleached roots of the doomed trees seem to shudder and shrink from the weltering death. There is an evident bending upward of the overtaken roots to escape suffocation. The shores of the lake are like a scene from the "Inferno." Matted, twisted, and broken, the roots, like living things in danger, arch themselves out of the dark flood, pitifully striving to hold aloft their noble stems and branches. The water of the lake, dark almost as blood, from the surface flow of juniper sap and other vegetable matter, is forced from six to ten feet above its natural level, and driven by winds hither to this bank to-day and thither to-morrow, washing every vestige of earth from the helpless life-givers, till its whole circumference is a woful net-work of gnarled trunks and intertwined fibres, bleached and dry as the bones of a skeleton, and sheltering no life, but that of the blue lizard and red-throated moccasin.
Well well... that should get you ready to run back to the car… don’t you think???
And so it was that the return would have no walking. The two ruts in the road became the paths to glory. My partner clocked mile two on the return at an 8:30 pace, which just killer for rats. This rat was inspired by her effort and gave extra effort of his own to stay within sight of her. But upon thinking, she could be a mile away and still be seen! Yet, the effort remained high and great strains were made to spot the gate at the parking lot.
We spotted no snakes, bobcats, black bears, or other creatures of fear known to inhabit the reserve. We did startle a herron into flight. I have not seen a herron since canoeing the Current River over a year ago. Anytime a bird with a 6-feet wing span takes off you have to pause mentally. It is a beautiful sight. But there was no physical pause, and soon the dark brown metal and wooden gates appeared in the distance. My partner asked me on a couple of occasions how far away I thought they were. Knowing what she really was asking, I gave her the answer in finishing kick time. “Uh…that’s about a 4 minute finish sprint, baby.” We jogged it home to the car!
It was a long drive in the ratmobile back to our little nest in the wall of a Virginia Beach apartment complex. It gave us time to contemplate about 7.4 miles of Great Dismal agony and ecstasy [and our one mile warm up walk]. As with most rats, our experiences can be summed up in moments. And our moments of sadness and euphoria are what we recall as time goes by. The long straight road to the center of blackness that is the Washington Ditch will always evoke more smiles than frowns.
~Reed “Trail Rat” Nelson~
APRIL 2005
Most rats have run in some pretty exotic places. This rat dares not name his favorite places he has spent his tread. Well, what the heck, maybe a few highlights!
Most Beautiful – The deck of a Royal Caribbean cruise ship for 10K
Hottest – El Corridor Highway in Los Cabos for 5 miles
Coldest – The last Saturday AM club run in Jan 2004 was pretty chilly!
Hilliest – Running out of the New River Gorge in WV in 1996
Flattest – well…
I suppose it is time for a more recent rat tale. Virginia Beach is flat, aside from a few dunes to sprint over. I mean, you really have to be creative. Sometimes you just have to give up and run the flats! Sooooo… back to my handy little biking book I went. Now, you all know they don’t make a lot of bikes for us four-legged types, so I really bought the book to scope out trail runs.
It seems that a long time ago there were a few slaves that escaped and hid out in a nearby swamp. President Washington visited this 1,000,000 acre wetland and decided he would dig a series of ditches and try to drain it. Well, he might as well have spit into the wind! But ole George created some mighty fine roads through the swamp when the ditches and canals were made. In fact, one of the first monuments named after a president resulted. Washington Ditch spans about 4.2 miles from the edge of the swamp to the mysterious Lake Drummond. A raised road was made with the dirt from the ditch. Voila… a trail run!
Now, many of you may think of flats as a blessing. Or, maybe you think they are just plain easy. Me? Despite my four legs I personally struggle with flats. This was a nightmare waiting to unfold. I quick glance at the historical marker and off I went. My girlfriend was with me, so that was a good thing. We started with a brisk walk and advanced into jogging speed. We’re lucky, because we run pretty fast for rats. I’d guess about 6.5mph to begin with, and about 6.7mph as a pace.
At that pace, the scenery is still very observable. From a rat’s view, it was paradise! Wet swamp lands and fallen timbers were everywhere. Ah ah! I forgot to mention that the original 1,000,000 acres had been harvested of timber over the years, and now about 125,000 acres remain. Hey, don’t be sad mister and miss Tree Hugger. The area is in splendid condition and free of logging since the early 1900’s, and still the largest wetland reserve in the eastern US. Anyway, the remnants of past logging is evident in the amount of deadfall and decay. I was so tempted to take my four little legs off-trail. But, custom waders for us rats are expensive, and I only use mine for fly-fishing.
As I looked down the corridor of trees I swore it was just another Hollywood backdrop. It didn’t seem real. But, the grind in my muscles and joints did not vary. The same view. The same feel. Mental entropy occurred [that means chaos], and I was immediately dreaming of our Lake Drummond arrival alternately with the sound of spring traps being activated. You know how that makes a rat feel? Of course you don’t! Silly humans. But, I still noticed the crickets and katydids and all the other delicacies making noise. It really was rat heaven… I felt better. The corridor was interrupted once by an intersecting ditch/road combo. And on it went. And on. But an end appeared to materialize, and as we jogged on, it became real. There was A TURN. Wow! A change of direction! And so as we made the dogleg right another end appeared. Then another dogleg right revealed a massive lake with a landing dock and a free spotting scope.
Lake Drummond is massive. My partner asked me how far it would be to jog around it [if there was a road]. I estimated 20 to 25 miles. It was an impressive sight. Impression depends on perspective. Witness these writings on Lake Drummond
Canoeing Sketches, John Boyle O'Reilly, From: Athletics and Manly Sport, Boston: Pilot Publishing Company, 1890
The Lake of the Dismal Swamp is the very eye of material anguish. Its circle of silvery beach is flooded and hidden, and still the pent-up water, vainly beseeching an outlet, is raised and driven in unnatural enmity to the roots of the tall juniper, cypress, and gum trees, that completely surround its shore. The waves that should murmur and break on a strand of incomparable brilliancy, are pushed beyond their proper limits, and compelled to soften and sap the productive earth; to wash bare and white the sinews of the friendly trees, and inundate a wide region of extraordinary fertility. The bleached roots of the doomed trees seem to shudder and shrink from the weltering death. There is an evident bending upward of the overtaken roots to escape suffocation. The shores of the lake are like a scene from the "Inferno." Matted, twisted, and broken, the roots, like living things in danger, arch themselves out of the dark flood, pitifully striving to hold aloft their noble stems and branches. The water of the lake, dark almost as blood, from the surface flow of juniper sap and other vegetable matter, is forced from six to ten feet above its natural level, and driven by winds hither to this bank to-day and thither to-morrow, washing every vestige of earth from the helpless life-givers, till its whole circumference is a woful net-work of gnarled trunks and intertwined fibres, bleached and dry as the bones of a skeleton, and sheltering no life, but that of the blue lizard and red-throated moccasin.
Well well... that should get you ready to run back to the car… don’t you think???
And so it was that the return would have no walking. The two ruts in the road became the paths to glory. My partner clocked mile two on the return at an 8:30 pace, which just killer for rats. This rat was inspired by her effort and gave extra effort of his own to stay within sight of her. But upon thinking, she could be a mile away and still be seen! Yet, the effort remained high and great strains were made to spot the gate at the parking lot.
We spotted no snakes, bobcats, black bears, or other creatures of fear known to inhabit the reserve. We did startle a herron into flight. I have not seen a herron since canoeing the Current River over a year ago. Anytime a bird with a 6-feet wing span takes off you have to pause mentally. It is a beautiful sight. But there was no physical pause, and soon the dark brown metal and wooden gates appeared in the distance. My partner asked me on a couple of occasions how far away I thought they were. Knowing what she really was asking, I gave her the answer in finishing kick time. “Uh…that’s about a 4 minute finish sprint, baby.” We jogged it home to the car!
It was a long drive in the ratmobile back to our little nest in the wall of a Virginia Beach apartment complex. It gave us time to contemplate about 7.4 miles of Great Dismal agony and ecstasy [and our one mile warm up walk]. As with most rats, our experiences can be summed up in moments. And our moments of sadness and euphoria are what we recall as time goes by. The long straight road to the center of blackness that is the Washington Ditch will always evoke more smiles than frowns.
Wednesday, March 09, 2005
Trail Rat Meets The Sandman
Trail Rat Meets The Sandman
~Reed “Trail Rat” Nelson~
MARCH 2005
One of the first questions I asked myself after arriving in Virginia Beach is “where do I run?” The second question, for the record, was “where are the hills?” Trail withdrawal was eminent. It was mid-January and winter was in full “bloom.” Most of this Trail Rat’s training occurs on a “dreadmill” in the winter, staring blankly at a display with basic information. Unfortunately, wrist GPS gadgets won’t work on a dreadmill, so calculations are performed in one’s mind. This is particularly frustrating to rats, as our brains are quite small and thus limited in capacity for such calculations. And rats sometimes digress, so this one will move on.
There were a few other rats at work, but none with the real lustful sort of enthusiasm that this rat has. And nothing like other rats such as Larry K, or George P, or Kathy M, or Ed C, or Heidi GM, or… drat! Rats do digress! Anyway, this rat was on his own to figure out the best place to get a trail fix. Rats at the Tidewater Striders running club sent me to First Landing State Park. But rats get disappointed when you have to pay to enter a park to park. Rats may digress, but parking at a park is just plain redundant! So this rat bought a book at a bike shop [gasp] about mountain biking in Virginia. The book cost 18 rat dollars and the park tips contained therein saved 4 rat dollars per trip to the park. This rat was happy!
So, I put a rat rack on top of my sled and loaded the mountain bike. I had to be true to the purpose of the book for the first trip to the park. I rode the General McGuire trail out and back for 12 miles. Not a lot of distance, but rat riding in mixed dirt and sand can be a challenge that is not well measured by distance alone. It is not the length of the trail, but the firmness of the surface [innuendo intended]. This rat decided that the GMT was going to be a fine running trail! Plus, there were many capillary trails leading outward from the main trail. Rats love to explore!
One more bike ride and a rat run was finally in order. I parked at the bike shop [gasp again] and jogged the paved mile to the park trailhead. Through the mixed forest I ran, with pine trees providing green in the winter I was not used to seeing. Past the parking lot I ran, thinking of the money I saved and the extra two miles I would run by parking outside the park [redundancy intended]. Onto a capillary trail [The Bald Cypress Trail] I swerved. I was soon in heaven. 1.75 miles worth of trail took rats over little mounds [hills around here] and around swampland dotted with amazing bald cypress trees. The trees belched the breath of time itself, standing firm beneath an overcoat of Spanish moss. Oh my… I was not in Missouri! Only 6 miles of running provided me with 6 hours of smiling. Rats look mean when they smile, so I had to contain my joy.
I saw many other rats while at First Landing. There where scout rats, couple rats, and rats with strollers in the woods. There were biker rats and runner rats, and even a military rat or two keeping in tune for deployment. But, there were no familiar rats to me, so my joy was justly tempered to a mild euphoria. Rats are social, and even with small brains, we remember things for a long time. Running with familiar rats is one of those lingering memories. So new trails will be found and reported, just to share with my old rat friends, and bring back some great memories that no rat could ever forget.
~Reed “Trail Rat” Nelson~
MARCH 2005
One of the first questions I asked myself after arriving in Virginia Beach is “where do I run?” The second question, for the record, was “where are the hills?” Trail withdrawal was eminent. It was mid-January and winter was in full “bloom.” Most of this Trail Rat’s training occurs on a “dreadmill” in the winter, staring blankly at a display with basic information. Unfortunately, wrist GPS gadgets won’t work on a dreadmill, so calculations are performed in one’s mind. This is particularly frustrating to rats, as our brains are quite small and thus limited in capacity for such calculations. And rats sometimes digress, so this one will move on.
There were a few other rats at work, but none with the real lustful sort of enthusiasm that this rat has. And nothing like other rats such as Larry K, or George P, or Kathy M, or Ed C, or Heidi GM, or… drat! Rats do digress! Anyway, this rat was on his own to figure out the best place to get a trail fix. Rats at the Tidewater Striders running club sent me to First Landing State Park. But rats get disappointed when you have to pay to enter a park to park. Rats may digress, but parking at a park is just plain redundant! So this rat bought a book at a bike shop [gasp] about mountain biking in Virginia. The book cost 18 rat dollars and the park tips contained therein saved 4 rat dollars per trip to the park. This rat was happy!
So, I put a rat rack on top of my sled and loaded the mountain bike. I had to be true to the purpose of the book for the first trip to the park. I rode the General McGuire trail out and back for 12 miles. Not a lot of distance, but rat riding in mixed dirt and sand can be a challenge that is not well measured by distance alone. It is not the length of the trail, but the firmness of the surface [innuendo intended]. This rat decided that the GMT was going to be a fine running trail! Plus, there were many capillary trails leading outward from the main trail. Rats love to explore!
One more bike ride and a rat run was finally in order. I parked at the bike shop [gasp again] and jogged the paved mile to the park trailhead. Through the mixed forest I ran, with pine trees providing green in the winter I was not used to seeing. Past the parking lot I ran, thinking of the money I saved and the extra two miles I would run by parking outside the park [redundancy intended]. Onto a capillary trail [The Bald Cypress Trail] I swerved. I was soon in heaven. 1.75 miles worth of trail took rats over little mounds [hills around here] and around swampland dotted with amazing bald cypress trees. The trees belched the breath of time itself, standing firm beneath an overcoat of Spanish moss. Oh my… I was not in Missouri! Only 6 miles of running provided me with 6 hours of smiling. Rats look mean when they smile, so I had to contain my joy.
I saw many other rats while at First Landing. There where scout rats, couple rats, and rats with strollers in the woods. There were biker rats and runner rats, and even a military rat or two keeping in tune for deployment. But, there were no familiar rats to me, so my joy was justly tempered to a mild euphoria. Rats are social, and even with small brains, we remember things for a long time. Running with familiar rats is one of those lingering memories. So new trails will be found and reported, just to share with my old rat friends, and bring back some great memories that no rat could ever forget.
Wednesday, February 09, 2005
The Truth Of Life
What matters most when the stuff hits the fan
FEBRUARY 2005
By Reed “Trail Rat” Nelson
By now, many of you know I have moved. Currently, I am sitting in an Extended Stay Hotel room typing on my work laptop. I have no phone. I have no ISP. I have no friends in the area. The traffic sucks. I can’t save to my 401k until July. I have to pay for two months of COBRA heath care. After 15 years of company cars I now have a car payment. I now have no home. The apartment I have leased is nowhere near big enough to hold the past 10 years worth of gathered goods. I will need storage. On the positive side I have made considerable settling progress since my arrival 7 days ago. I actually know my way around most of the time. This area has one of the worst reputations for getting people utterly lost. I believe it. I have such good directional sense that my initials should be GPS, and I still get confused here. I will live within running distance of the ocean. First Landing State Park has 7+ miles of un-groomed trails for this rat. The seafood is fresh. There is a Dick’s and a Bass Pro Shop for trail rat supplies. The Tidewater Striders running club here is one of the largest in the USA. Can you believe they do not publish a newsletter? I wonder whom they could get to do that? I wonder if the content could be tailored to TWO clubs… hmmmm….
I had been looking for a new job for about 26 months. Already having a job afforded me time and selectivity. It was only recently that the truth of my search hit me. The truth was that a new job might take me away from St Louis and my friends there. And so the truth came to be. But there is more.
I left behind a lot of truth. Terry hammers a marathon with a PF flare after 10K… that is truth. Kelly runs in a 25mph wind as Wonder Woman… that is truth. Bert invites us to ride 100 miles on a stormy summer day just for fun… that is truth. Jim just plain writes the truth… check out his story. Many of you are THE truth, out there leading lives of honor and courage and loyalty. You have physical injuries, failed relationships, challenged children, challenging jobs, aging parents, and many other things that demand your energy. But out you go. You freaking run. You friggin' pedal. You create a space for the peace of an elevated heartbeat… that is truth. In street slang, the truth is someone who is the epitome of excellence. Many of you fit this definition in my mind. So, it was pretty easy for me to get out and take my first run in Virginia Beach when I think of all of you. It was not on a trail, but through a business park. The majority of the run was on a street named Crossways. Well, if you ever find yourself crossways with this area, I should be able to show you a good trail run by then, and maybe we can hammer a tray of blue crabs together. Between the beer and Old Bay Seasoning I’m sure we will enjoy ourselves. And don’t forget the truth. When everything around you is changing find something that is steady. For me, that is faith, hope and love. And you don’t have to be an apostle to know for sure that the greatest of these is love. Indeed. That is truth.
What matters most when the stuff hits the fan
FEBRUARY 2005
By Reed “Trail Rat” Nelson
By now, many of you know I have moved. Currently, I am sitting in an Extended Stay Hotel room typing on my work laptop. I have no phone. I have no ISP. I have no friends in the area. The traffic sucks. I can’t save to my 401k until July. I have to pay for two months of COBRA heath care. After 15 years of company cars I now have a car payment. I now have no home. The apartment I have leased is nowhere near big enough to hold the past 10 years worth of gathered goods. I will need storage. On the positive side I have made considerable settling progress since my arrival 7 days ago. I actually know my way around most of the time. This area has one of the worst reputations for getting people utterly lost. I believe it. I have such good directional sense that my initials should be GPS, and I still get confused here. I will live within running distance of the ocean. First Landing State Park has 7+ miles of un-groomed trails for this rat. The seafood is fresh. There is a Dick’s and a Bass Pro Shop for trail rat supplies. The Tidewater Striders running club here is one of the largest in the USA. Can you believe they do not publish a newsletter? I wonder whom they could get to do that? I wonder if the content could be tailored to TWO clubs… hmmmm….
I had been looking for a new job for about 26 months. Already having a job afforded me time and selectivity. It was only recently that the truth of my search hit me. The truth was that a new job might take me away from St Louis and my friends there. And so the truth came to be. But there is more.
I left behind a lot of truth. Terry hammers a marathon with a PF flare after 10K… that is truth. Kelly runs in a 25mph wind as Wonder Woman… that is truth. Bert invites us to ride 100 miles on a stormy summer day just for fun… that is truth. Jim just plain writes the truth… check out his story. Many of you are THE truth, out there leading lives of honor and courage and loyalty. You have physical injuries, failed relationships, challenged children, challenging jobs, aging parents, and many other things that demand your energy. But out you go. You freaking run. You friggin' pedal. You create a space for the peace of an elevated heartbeat… that is truth. In street slang, the truth is someone who is the epitome of excellence. Many of you fit this definition in my mind. So, it was pretty easy for me to get out and take my first run in Virginia Beach when I think of all of you. It was not on a trail, but through a business park. The majority of the run was on a street named Crossways. Well, if you ever find yourself crossways with this area, I should be able to show you a good trail run by then, and maybe we can hammer a tray of blue crabs together. Between the beer and Old Bay Seasoning I’m sure we will enjoy ourselves. And don’t forget the truth. When everything around you is changing find something that is steady. For me, that is faith, hope and love. And you don’t have to be an apostle to know for sure that the greatest of these is love. Indeed. That is truth.
Sunday, January 09, 2005
Trail Rat Holiday Tails and Tales
Trail Rat Holiday Tails and Tales JANUARY 2005
Well, this trail rat knows better than most that this is has been one heck of a year. 2004 left this rat in a tail spin [pun FULLY intended]. Momma rat ran off and left this one to fend for himself in September 2003. But by December I was running the trails named for discoverers. And while running the frozen and crunchy trail tundra, I discovered a few things on my own.
This rat started lifting and running and biking again. About 40 pounds later I woke up and looked in the mirror. After the initial shock wore off I realized that when you burn more calories than you eat you start to shrink. Go figure?!
I found out that traffic truly sucks in St Charles. I’d load up for a trail run, and it would take me 35 minutes to drive what used to take 20 minutes. I searched high and low for a way to multi-task and use this time wisely. More on that later.
I did a few long runs… longer than I had ever planned. I met some amazing people along the way. I met rats like Terry and Kay, and found out that kindness, compassion, and irreverence can all happily coexist in the same household. Rat Kelly showed me that rats can look just like Lynda Carter if they try REALLY hard. Rat Glen became an encourager, which I found to be MOST effective coming from someone so incorrigible. I met rats I’d known before like Bert. He’d run some of the same trails and had woven some similar tales. I met gadget rats like Shiela, who take longer to suit up for a run than me with all her toys… but can provide far more interesting data along the way. Rat Bob R worked out at the same YMCA earlier in the year, and I found that it is possible to meet someone lifting weights who is truly a nice person. I met rats like Bev who threatened to whip my butt for my verbal faux pas, and I kind of liked that . Rat Dave gave me some perspective while his significant other, rat Joan, gave me some of the best cookies EVER. I don’t even think Dave would debate about that! Rat Vicki gave me work ethic at Flat Five... “stand in front of those cars!” I’m still in therapy after that. Rat Larry K gave me some great laughs while defending America from the onslaught of my French girlfriend [I hope he knows she was mostly juicing him for a reaction]. I learned from a few trail runs [with Heidi, George, and Kathy] that rats of different abilities can run and train together effectively.
Finally, all of these rat encounters have brought me through to the end of the best year of my life. I learned to use the drive time to think up newsletter articles. I learned to use my free will to run. I became the comeback rat. And a darn thankful rat. Thankful my paws will get me down the trail next to my home. At no time is this more poignant than when I see my neighbors getting their paraplegic son out on the trail for some fresh air. After seeing that, every run should seem easy. Anyway, this rat will carve a trail out of granite for all you club rats… anytime. You are all great people in your own unique ways. Share those gifts with both friends [and a few strangers] this season. Peace, Hope, and Love. ~Reed “Trail Rat” Nelson~
Well, this trail rat knows better than most that this is has been one heck of a year. 2004 left this rat in a tail spin [pun FULLY intended]. Momma rat ran off and left this one to fend for himself in September 2003. But by December I was running the trails named for discoverers. And while running the frozen and crunchy trail tundra, I discovered a few things on my own.
This rat started lifting and running and biking again. About 40 pounds later I woke up and looked in the mirror. After the initial shock wore off I realized that when you burn more calories than you eat you start to shrink. Go figure?!
I found out that traffic truly sucks in St Charles. I’d load up for a trail run, and it would take me 35 minutes to drive what used to take 20 minutes. I searched high and low for a way to multi-task and use this time wisely. More on that later.
I did a few long runs… longer than I had ever planned. I met some amazing people along the way. I met rats like Terry and Kay, and found out that kindness, compassion, and irreverence can all happily coexist in the same household
Finally, all of these rat encounters have brought me through to the end of the best year of my life. I learned to use the drive time to think up newsletter articles. I learned to use my free will to run. I became the comeback rat. And a darn thankful rat. Thankful my paws will get me down the trail next to my home. At no time is this more poignant than when I see my neighbors getting their paraplegic son out on the trail for some fresh air. After seeing that, every run should seem easy. Anyway, this rat will carve a trail out of granite for all you club rats… anytime. You are all great people in your own unique ways. Share those gifts with both friends [and a few strangers] this season. Peace, Hope, and Love. ~Reed “Trail Rat” Nelson~
Tuesday, November 09, 2004
Advice From A Trail Rat-Becoming The Water In Bruce's Cup
Advice From A Trail Rat
Off-Roading & Becoming The Water In Bruce’s Cup
November 2004
Empty your mind, be formless, shapeless--like water. Now you put water into a cup, it becomes the cup. You put water into a bottle, it becomes the bottle. You put it in a teapot, it becomes the teapot. Now water can flow, or it can crash! Be water, my friend.-- Bruce Lee When the opponent expands, I contract. When he contracts, I expand. And when there is an opportunity, I do not hit--it hits all by itself.-- Bruce Lee
Bruce must have been a trail runner. I know that some of the most yin/yang, zen-like, Jesus-I’m-in-the-zone moments in my entire life have been on the trail. I have also taken some nasty falls out there… indeed, the trail is a worthy adversary! And Bruce was into simplification, so he summarizes any imaginable struggle in the above quotes and gives us some insight into the “way of the wizard,” as Deepak Chopra would say. I would scream “technique!” Now, before you think this piece is going to be a fourth installment in the Lord of the Rings series or a Tony Little infommercial, let me get to the points I have on the subject of trail running. As you read on, keep ole Bruce’s quotes and Tony’s scream in mind. Also, I polled my running club officers and a few of them estimated that 85% of our club has trail running experience. Now, I have offered advice to people before and somehow it has been seen as offensive, regardless of the delivery technique. A little psychology here… for all of us. Whenever we receive advice let’s always take the high road. Let’s assume the intent of the advisor is one of genuine care and concern. All too often, we take the low road and assume the advisor is belittling us, especially if the advice is information we already know. That is a shame. So with those thoughts in mind, if this becomes repetitive for you have my apologies.
Let’s get the terminology out of the way first. Coming from Kentucky, my trail running glossary is likely quite different from yours. Some of you may not even talk when you run. If that is the case, never lead a group on a trail run… the people behind you are expecting advanced warning of all obstacles. Here are some terms to help you out when you lead:
Root! – Any slick root[s] or a root parallel to the course of travel. Perpendicular roots don’t roll ankles, so they are not worthy of warning calls. One exception is listed below.
Rock! – Any solidly anchored sharp rock[s] or loose stone[s] likely to maim those who follow you.
Rock Garden! – Any multiple/multitude of the above.
Steeplechase! – A tree that is passable in stride by stepping on and over or simply hurdling. If you can’t pass it in stride, your stopping says all you need to say!
Toe-catcher! – This is a perpendicular root from which the soil has eroded, leaving it completely exposed to trip runners. This is one of the most dangerous obstacles.
Spider! – When encountering a web, yell this out for extra credit [i.e. post-run gratitude]
Snake! –The most feared animal for most of us and worthy of much respect, Yelling this will not lower the leader’s chance of being bitten, and results in severe punishment from fellow runners if it is a false alarm.
Nettle! – Required vocalization when encountering Stinging Nettle. Caveat… the leader may not feel the sting of the nettle encounter until several steps past the encounter, at which point his/her fellow runners have become fellow victims.
Poison! – Ivy, Oak or Sumac.
Thorn! – When encountering briars.
Polecat! – When the smell of a skunk permeates the nostrils and causes bodily convulsions.
There are additional warning calls, but this gives everyone a nice base! Oh, mud is certainly not worthy of calling out. Why are you running trails if you wish to avoid mud?!
Now, let’s focus on running, shall we? There are generally three types of terrain… flat, uphill, and downhill. On a trail there will be obstacles all of the time. Let’s get the easy one’s out of the way first. Running flats is a cakewalk, er… uhh… run. Rhythm is hard to achieve on the trail, so I take it when I can get it. Flats give me that opportunity. I rarely adjust my stride or breathing pattern from what I use on the road. I think of Bruce and try to “flow” over the obstacles without too much drama. I make it as much like road running as possible.
Now we are going to go uphill. Here is where trails start to shine [and runners often wilt]. Being an avid biker I hear people moaning about hills constantly. But, speaking from loads of humbling experience, I can tell you that I’d rather run up any technical hill as opposed to biking up the thing. Aside from a good power-to-weight ratio, there are a few tricks [i.e. Technique!] to get you up the hills on a trail more comfortably and quickly. Again, remember Bruce… become the hill. Lean forward slightly. Move your eyes. Direct your vision down to your feet and quickly scan up, out, and ahead on the trail for 15 feet or so. Keep doing this as you run. Now that you can see, what about your feet? A little trick I learned mountaineering is to “heel” the high spots. Pick out stable rocks and roots and adjust your stride to plant your heel squarely on them. This will level your foot. The benefits of leveling are numerous. You will put less stress on your Achilles and calves, reducing chance of injury. You will rely more heavily on your stronger quads, hamstrings, and gluteus thereby increasing your endurance. Your feet will move less in your shoes, reducing blisters. And you will be able to push off more effectively, increasing your speed. When going up a hill, we all tend to slow down. There is time to focus on form factors like this one. Doing so will take your mind off your fast-approaching anaerobic threshold. This benefit alone makes it worth practicing the technique!
I cannot tell you how many people that are far superior to me physically I have literally left behind going downhill. I remember that dusting my Herculean climbing partners descending mountains are among my prouder moments. So, what makes me faster?
The first thing I will tell you is clichéd. I have no fear. Fear will freeze you on descents. Remember, you are RUNNING! There is no time for fear or being frozen! And your fear is likely one of falling, not speed. Once you fall a few times you will quickly move past that fear. There is a right way to fall. Don’t stick out your arm and lock your elbow! I’ll see you with a cast if you do that! You will need to use your hand, elbow, and shoulder in sequence to absorb an impact. After the impact you just tuck and roll to dissipate speed. Sound hard? It is! Sound painful? It is usually painful as well. I fell last Wednesday night on slick asphalt going downhill in Laurel Park. I used the technique and now have a dime sized war wound on my right elbow. Not bad. Practice falling on a grass hill. Play with your kids in a game of king-of-the-mountain. It is good practice for everyone. The place to learn how to fall is NOT on a trail of rocks while you are running 8 minute mile pace.
The second thing I will tell you is to do the opposite of the uphill technique. That is, use a progressive scanning of the trail and “toe” the high points. Benefits include less shin splint [tibialis posterior and tibialis anterior] stress and more stability. Also, I have seen runners refuse to use proper biomechanics when running down smoother hills on the trail. Specifically, I have seen the refusal to use the entire foot, starting with a heel strike and rolling it forward. Bounding down a hill on the balls of your feet is unstable and slower in most cases. Unless injuries prevent you from using a heel strike and roll, making sure you are doing it. If you are not, give it a try.
Now, here are some new thoughts. 1) As you scan, imagine where water would flow down the trail [remember Bruce?]. If you follow that path you will be happy with the results most of the time. 2) If a trail is a trough “straddle run” it. Essentially you will be bouncing from left to right down the trail. You will not believe the stability this technique has. I have never fallen while straddle running down a trough or rut. 3) You may also want to try your hand at bounding over uncertain terrain. Deer don’t bound for style points. Truth is, they haven’t a clue where their hooves will land. So they bound, and benefit from a supple landing at the end of each bound. In the fraction of time they are airborne they look to find a landing spot and extend their legs. When they touch down they use that extension to absorb the landing. If they slip, they simply short-step to regain balance or fall and bounce back to their feet. We can learn a lot by watching animals move across terrain. Watch domestic cats move about… they are smooth operators. Don’t get too confident though. You have toes instead of hooves… two legs instead of four… and calve muscles to exhaust! Anyway, elevate yourself going down a technical hill. Throw out your usual scoot or flat surface stride, or you will end up on the ground and left behind.
There are some other terrain encounters worth noting. Off-camber trails and turns [trails cut with a slant to the left or right, turns with negative banking], can wreak havoc on your knees and ankles. Don’t just plow through these sections. Search out every level surface you can for each step. I guess this brings us to the end of the road, err… uhh… trail. Trails are your chance to mentally focus unlike other times. I compare it to chopping vegetables. Pay attention [i.e. focus] and use proper technique, and you will enjoy the results. Don’t and you will likely get hurt! I hope some of these thoughts help get you down the trails you choose to run, and I hope to see you out there!
Off-Roading & Becoming The Water In Bruce’s Cup
November 2004
Empty your mind, be formless, shapeless--like water. Now you put water into a cup, it becomes the cup. You put water into a bottle, it becomes the bottle. You put it in a teapot, it becomes the teapot. Now water can flow, or it can crash! Be water, my friend.-- Bruce Lee When the opponent expands, I contract. When he contracts, I expand. And when there is an opportunity, I do not hit--it hits all by itself.-- Bruce Lee
Bruce must have been a trail runner. I know that some of the most yin/yang, zen-like, Jesus-I’m-in-the-zone moments in my entire life have been on the trail. I have also taken some nasty falls out there… indeed, the trail is a worthy adversary! And Bruce was into simplification, so he summarizes any imaginable struggle in the above quotes and gives us some insight into the “way of the wizard,” as Deepak Chopra would say. I would scream “technique!” Now, before you think this piece is going to be a fourth installment in the Lord of the Rings series or a Tony Little infommercial, let me get to the points I have on the subject of trail running. As you read on, keep ole Bruce’s quotes and Tony’s scream in mind. Also, I polled my running club officers and a few of them estimated that 85% of our club has trail running experience. Now, I have offered advice to people before and somehow it has been seen as offensive, regardless of the delivery technique. A little psychology here… for all of us. Whenever we receive advice let’s always take the high road. Let’s assume the intent of the advisor is one of genuine care and concern. All too often, we take the low road and assume the advisor is belittling us, especially if the advice is information we already know. That is a shame. So with those thoughts in mind, if this becomes repetitive for you have my apologies.
Let’s get the terminology out of the way first. Coming from Kentucky, my trail running glossary is likely quite different from yours. Some of you may not even talk when you run. If that is the case, never lead a group on a trail run… the people behind you are expecting advanced warning of all obstacles. Here are some terms to help you out when you lead:
Root! – Any slick root[s] or a root parallel to the course of travel. Perpendicular roots don’t roll ankles, so they are not worthy of warning calls. One exception is listed below.
Rock! – Any solidly anchored sharp rock[s] or loose stone[s] likely to maim those who follow you.
Rock Garden! – Any multiple/multitude of the above.
Steeplechase! – A tree that is passable in stride by stepping on and over or simply hurdling. If you can’t pass it in stride, your stopping says all you need to say!
Toe-catcher! – This is a perpendicular root from which the soil has eroded, leaving it completely exposed to trip runners. This is one of the most dangerous obstacles.
Spider! – When encountering a web, yell this out for extra credit [i.e. post-run gratitude]
Snake! –The most feared animal for most of us and worthy of much respect, Yelling this will not lower the leader’s chance of being bitten, and results in severe punishment from fellow runners if it is a false alarm.
Nettle! – Required vocalization when encountering Stinging Nettle. Caveat… the leader may not feel the sting of the nettle encounter until several steps past the encounter, at which point his/her fellow runners have become fellow victims.
Poison! – Ivy, Oak or Sumac.
Thorn! – When encountering briars.
Polecat! – When the smell of a skunk permeates the nostrils and causes bodily convulsions.
There are additional warning calls, but this gives everyone a nice base! Oh, mud is certainly not worthy of calling out. Why are you running trails if you wish to avoid mud?!
Now, let’s focus on running, shall we? There are generally three types of terrain… flat, uphill, and downhill. On a trail there will be obstacles all of the time. Let’s get the easy one’s out of the way first. Running flats is a cakewalk, er… uhh… run. Rhythm is hard to achieve on the trail, so I take it when I can get it. Flats give me that opportunity. I rarely adjust my stride or breathing pattern from what I use on the road. I think of Bruce and try to “flow” over the obstacles without too much drama. I make it as much like road running as possible.
Now we are going to go uphill. Here is where trails start to shine [and runners often wilt]. Being an avid biker I hear people moaning about hills constantly. But, speaking from loads of humbling experience, I can tell you that I’d rather run up any technical hill as opposed to biking up the thing. Aside from a good power-to-weight ratio, there are a few tricks [i.e. Technique!] to get you up the hills on a trail more comfortably and quickly. Again, remember Bruce… become the hill. Lean forward slightly. Move your eyes. Direct your vision down to your feet and quickly scan up, out, and ahead on the trail for 15 feet or so. Keep doing this as you run. Now that you can see, what about your feet? A little trick I learned mountaineering is to “heel” the high spots. Pick out stable rocks and roots and adjust your stride to plant your heel squarely on them. This will level your foot. The benefits of leveling are numerous. You will put less stress on your Achilles and calves, reducing chance of injury. You will rely more heavily on your stronger quads, hamstrings, and gluteus thereby increasing your endurance. Your feet will move less in your shoes, reducing blisters. And you will be able to push off more effectively, increasing your speed. When going up a hill, we all tend to slow down. There is time to focus on form factors like this one. Doing so will take your mind off your fast-approaching anaerobic threshold. This benefit alone makes it worth practicing the technique!
I cannot tell you how many people that are far superior to me physically I have literally left behind going downhill. I remember that dusting my Herculean climbing partners descending mountains are among my prouder moments. So, what makes me faster?
The first thing I will tell you is clichéd. I have no fear. Fear will freeze you on descents. Remember, you are RUNNING! There is no time for fear or being frozen! And your fear is likely one of falling, not speed. Once you fall a few times you will quickly move past that fear. There is a right way to fall. Don’t stick out your arm and lock your elbow! I’ll see you with a cast if you do that! You will need to use your hand, elbow, and shoulder in sequence to absorb an impact. After the impact you just tuck and roll to dissipate speed. Sound hard? It is! Sound painful? It is usually painful as well. I fell last Wednesday night on slick asphalt going downhill in Laurel Park. I used the technique and now have a dime sized war wound on my right elbow. Not bad. Practice falling on a grass hill. Play with your kids in a game of king-of-the-mountain. It is good practice for everyone. The place to learn how to fall is NOT on a trail of rocks while you are running 8 minute mile pace.
The second thing I will tell you is to do the opposite of the uphill technique. That is, use a progressive scanning of the trail and “toe” the high points. Benefits include less shin splint [tibialis posterior and tibialis anterior] stress and more stability. Also, I have seen runners refuse to use proper biomechanics when running down smoother hills on the trail. Specifically, I have seen the refusal to use the entire foot, starting with a heel strike and rolling it forward. Bounding down a hill on the balls of your feet is unstable and slower in most cases. Unless injuries prevent you from using a heel strike and roll, making sure you are doing it. If you are not, give it a try.
Now, here are some new thoughts. 1) As you scan, imagine where water would flow down the trail [remember Bruce?]. If you follow that path you will be happy with the results most of the time. 2) If a trail is a trough “straddle run” it. Essentially you will be bouncing from left to right down the trail. You will not believe the stability this technique has. I have never fallen while straddle running down a trough or rut. 3) You may also want to try your hand at bounding over uncertain terrain. Deer don’t bound for style points. Truth is, they haven’t a clue where their hooves will land. So they bound, and benefit from a supple landing at the end of each bound. In the fraction of time they are airborne they look to find a landing spot and extend their legs. When they touch down they use that extension to absorb the landing. If they slip, they simply short-step to regain balance or fall and bounce back to their feet. We can learn a lot by watching animals move across terrain. Watch domestic cats move about… they are smooth operators. Don’t get too confident though. You have toes instead of hooves… two legs instead of four… and calve muscles to exhaust! Anyway, elevate yourself going down a technical hill. Throw out your usual scoot or flat surface stride, or you will end up on the ground and left behind.
There are some other terrain encounters worth noting. Off-camber trails and turns [trails cut with a slant to the left or right, turns with negative banking], can wreak havoc on your knees and ankles. Don’t just plow through these sections. Search out every level surface you can for each step. I guess this brings us to the end of the road, err… uhh… trail. Trails are your chance to mentally focus unlike other times. I compare it to chopping vegetables. Pay attention [i.e. focus] and use proper technique, and you will enjoy the results. Don’t and you will likely get hurt! I hope some of these thoughts help get you down the trails you choose to run, and I hope to see you out there!
Monday, October 25, 2004
The Polarization Of America – Election 2004
The Polarization Of America – Election 2004
Commentary by Reed Nelson
25 October 2004
Well, I have HAD it! Today Bush said Kerry would ‘cut and run’ in Iraq. Truth? Bush has no clue what Kerry would do. Kerry slammed Bush for not finding tons of explosives hidden in Iraq. This comes after weeks of cries about no WMD’s. And, furthermore, was Bush the person solely responsible for finding the explosives? Was he crawling and sifting through the sand in Iraq, or did I miss something?
This, my friends, is a daily occurrence… and a huge annoyance for people who are thoughtful and intelligent enough to see past this type of third grade, back-and-forth campaigning. This election, like the last, is all about emotion. This election, like the last, is all about hate. Last time around we had the Republicans going hard after the Clinton-led Democrats, driven by hate and disgust for one Slick Willie. This time we have the Democrats, who kicked out crazy Howard Dean in favor of John Kerry. Not the best choice of the lot, but in my opinion the lot was purposefully made weak to LOSE this election so Hillary can run in 2008. Make no mistake… the Clintons CONTROL the party. Dig deep and you will find this to be pretty accurate. Anyway, without a robust candidate, the election is driven by the party’s hate for Bush, and the belief that he ‘stole’ the 2000 election. Now, if that is not emotional, can someone tell me what is?
So we have it. Both parties are guilty of very bad campaigning. Both candidates have lied and deceived their way down the campaign trail. I have watched this closely… both sides. I feel like I know. I also feel like I have a good basis for rational commentary. I have voted for presidents four times. One Democrat and three Republican. I have voted for Senators and Representatives on both sides of the aisle as well. I despise the two-party set up we have now. It is all too simplified… and polarizes the issues, skewing our thinking and our real positions. So, oftentimes, if we look honestly, we sit firmly on BOTH sides, but we choose one because we must. Often, inertia has everything to do with that choice, and rational thinking has been omitted from the process. Disagree? Well, if you buy into EVERY issue in ‘your’ party’s platform, you can always vote for that party in good conscience. If you do not buy into the whole lot of salad that ‘your’ party is tossing [I suspect most people fall into this group, but refuse to honestly look at it this way], you have a dilemma. How do you decide?
I’ll get to the decision process in a minute, but first I have to touch on the polarization issues. We’ve all been politicized to death in the past few years. It is quite disgusting in this day and age that grown and [supposedly] mature adults must avoid political discussions because arguments inevitably erupt. Why must that be true? And just why IS it true most of the time? And why do we accept that discouraging news so readily? Personally, I refuse to keep the company of friends who cannot argue their points factually and rationally. I’d rather know other people, to be quite honest about it… and not just people who agree with me. The point is we have just plain lost it. We have Michael Moore doing Fahrenheit 9/11 and calling it a ‘documentary.’ Really? And just who checked all of the facts for accuracy? We have bumper stickers from Democrats that say ‘Vote the Son of a Bush Out.’ Now that’s a classy way to represent 'your' party of choice. Republicans are not immune to drama either. They had Slick Willie stickers in 1996 and Sore Losserman [aka Gore Liebermann] stickers in 2000. This year we have Swift Boat Veterans coming out of the woodwork. Listen, just where were these people for the past 18 years that John Kerry has been Senator? Oh, apparently they had no problem with that. Riiiiiiight. This year I have actually seen regular bumper stickers for Bush Cheney defaced on cars by Democratic supporters. Again, the hate just continues to grow into ever uglier actions. This stuff is inexcusable. Both parties need a bath and an enema.
Now, back to the question at hand. How do you vote? Well, let’s do a little civics here. Let’s all remember that this country is NOT a democracy in the purest sense. It is, in fact, a representative democracy. When we elect people to office, we elect them to vote their Conscience for us. It is impossible to poll constituents on every issue and very inefficient as well. Since conscience is a key factor, I would opine that the CHARACTER of a particular candidate is central to any voting decision. Of course, we went through this a few years ago when the phrase ‘character doesn’t matter’ was circulating. Of course, that is lunacy. Character ALWAYS matters. It matters with you, your children, your spouse, your parents, your friends… and your elected officials. We all need to understand that very clearly. Think about it for a while. And, I will be glad to tell you where the question of character really matters… with VOTERS. I will be voting a split ticket this year. I am voting on character and will impose my own’ term limits’ in some cases, since most of our congresspersons are too self-absorbed to limit themselves. I wonder how many people truly consider the candidates? I wonder how many Democrats listen to Rush and how many Republicans listen to Carville? Or is it just the same ole song? Punch the straight ticket, check for hanging chads, and go home.
I hope most people are smarter than that. So, you may wonder where I stand. I will tell you that I am not voting for Nader. I will tell you that in the presidential race, the winner, based on the question of character, is clear if you look hard enough. I will tell you that in the state of Missouri that Kit Bond has been in office long enough. I will tell you that you probably do not know what you need to know about the threats we face as a nation from rogue terrorists… Washington will not tell you because it is too scary and they do not trust you. Both of those facts are sad. And just who am I to say these things? Well, at least you can ask me that question without fear of reaping a whirlwind of venom and emotion. My message to you is simple. Calm down, look deeper, and vote. Where you stand [or who you vote for] is of no consequence to me.
Commentary by Reed Nelson
25 October 2004
Well, I have HAD it! Today Bush said Kerry would ‘cut and run’ in Iraq. Truth? Bush has no clue what Kerry would do. Kerry slammed Bush for not finding tons of explosives hidden in Iraq. This comes after weeks of cries about no WMD’s. And, furthermore, was Bush the person solely responsible for finding the explosives? Was he crawling and sifting through the sand in Iraq, or did I miss something?
This, my friends, is a daily occurrence… and a huge annoyance for people who are thoughtful and intelligent enough to see past this type of third grade, back-and-forth campaigning. This election, like the last, is all about emotion. This election, like the last, is all about hate. Last time around we had the Republicans going hard after the Clinton-led Democrats, driven by hate and disgust for one Slick Willie. This time we have the Democrats, who kicked out crazy Howard Dean in favor of John Kerry. Not the best choice of the lot, but in my opinion the lot was purposefully made weak to LOSE this election so Hillary can run in 2008. Make no mistake… the Clintons CONTROL the party. Dig deep and you will find this to be pretty accurate. Anyway, without a robust candidate, the election is driven by the party’s hate for Bush, and the belief that he ‘stole’ the 2000 election. Now, if that is not emotional, can someone tell me what is?
So we have it. Both parties are guilty of very bad campaigning. Both candidates have lied and deceived their way down the campaign trail. I have watched this closely… both sides. I feel like I know. I also feel like I have a good basis for rational commentary. I have voted for presidents four times. One Democrat and three Republican. I have voted for Senators and Representatives on both sides of the aisle as well. I despise the two-party set up we have now. It is all too simplified… and polarizes the issues, skewing our thinking and our real positions. So, oftentimes, if we look honestly, we sit firmly on BOTH sides, but we choose one because we must. Often, inertia has everything to do with that choice, and rational thinking has been omitted from the process. Disagree? Well, if you buy into EVERY issue in ‘your’ party’s platform, you can always vote for that party in good conscience. If you do not buy into the whole lot of salad that ‘your’ party is tossing [I suspect most people fall into this group, but refuse to honestly look at it this way], you have a dilemma. How do you decide?
I’ll get to the decision process in a minute, but first I have to touch on the polarization issues. We’ve all been politicized to death in the past few years. It is quite disgusting in this day and age that grown and [supposedly] mature adults must avoid political discussions because arguments inevitably erupt. Why must that be true? And just why IS it true most of the time? And why do we accept that discouraging news so readily? Personally, I refuse to keep the company of friends who cannot argue their points factually and rationally. I’d rather know other people, to be quite honest about it… and not just people who agree with me. The point is we have just plain lost it. We have Michael Moore doing Fahrenheit 9/11 and calling it a ‘documentary.’ Really? And just who checked all of the facts for accuracy? We have bumper stickers from Democrats that say ‘Vote the Son of a Bush Out.’ Now that’s a classy way to represent 'your' party of choice. Republicans are not immune to drama either. They had Slick Willie stickers in 1996 and Sore Losserman [aka Gore Liebermann] stickers in 2000. This year we have Swift Boat Veterans coming out of the woodwork. Listen, just where were these people for the past 18 years that John Kerry has been Senator? Oh, apparently they had no problem with that. Riiiiiiight. This year I have actually seen regular bumper stickers for Bush Cheney defaced on cars by Democratic supporters. Again, the hate just continues to grow into ever uglier actions. This stuff is inexcusable. Both parties need a bath and an enema.
Now, back to the question at hand. How do you vote? Well, let’s do a little civics here. Let’s all remember that this country is NOT a democracy in the purest sense. It is, in fact, a representative democracy. When we elect people to office, we elect them to vote their Conscience for us. It is impossible to poll constituents on every issue and very inefficient as well. Since conscience is a key factor, I would opine that the CHARACTER of a particular candidate is central to any voting decision. Of course, we went through this a few years ago when the phrase ‘character doesn’t matter’ was circulating. Of course, that is lunacy. Character ALWAYS matters. It matters with you, your children, your spouse, your parents, your friends… and your elected officials. We all need to understand that very clearly. Think about it for a while. And, I will be glad to tell you where the question of character really matters… with VOTERS. I will be voting a split ticket this year. I am voting on character and will impose my own’ term limits’ in some cases, since most of our congresspersons are too self-absorbed to limit themselves. I wonder how many people truly consider the candidates? I wonder how many Democrats listen to Rush and how many Republicans listen to Carville? Or is it just the same ole song? Punch the straight ticket, check for hanging chads, and go home.
I hope most people are smarter than that. So, you may wonder where I stand. I will tell you that I am not voting for Nader. I will tell you that in the presidential race, the winner, based on the question of character, is clear if you look hard enough. I will tell you that in the state of Missouri that Kit Bond has been in office long enough. I will tell you that you probably do not know what you need to know about the threats we face as a nation from rogue terrorists… Washington will not tell you because it is too scary and they do not trust you. Both of those facts are sad. And just who am I to say these things? Well, at least you can ask me that question without fear of reaping a whirlwind of venom and emotion. My message to you is simple. Calm down, look deeper, and vote. Where you stand [or who you vote for] is of no consequence to me.
Thursday, September 30, 2004
The Spirit Of Amateur Competition
The Spirit Of Amateur Competition
Commentary by Reed Nelson originally written 30 September, 2004
ARTICLE EXCERPT
“Japan's diminutive Mizuki Noguchi put on an extraordinary display of front-running to win the Olympic women's marathon title on Sunday as Paula Radcliffe's challenge ended in bitter tears. Big pre-race favourite Radcliffe, who led for the first half of the race, failed to finish, breaking down in tears at the 36-km mark as she slipped back to fourth after two hours' running.
The Briton, world record holder and never beaten in three previous marathons, tried to re-start but then slumped down by the side of the road, sobbing. Her record was almost 11 minutes quicker than Sunday's winning time.
The marathon had begun at 1800 local time but the heat was still intense. By five km, the lead group had already been whittled down to around a dozen. Radcliffe, desperate for a first title at a major championships, was unable to fight her eagerness and broke to the front after 25 minutes, shadowed by the Kenyans, Ethiopians and Japanese.
Already the event, on a steadily rising course, was taking casualties. Lydia Simon of Romania, the Sydney silver medallist, was dropped and soon 10 were left at the front. Kenya's Margaret Okayo, the fastest performer of the year, also lost touch as the race proper began. After exactly one-and-a-half hours Noguchi made her move, blasting up yet another incline and exploding the leading pack of seven. Only Alemu was able to keep in touch but Noguchi kept attacking up the climbs to forge 15 seconds clear, then 30, with a third of the race to run. Ndereba cut the gap to 12 seconds with two kilometres to go but Noguchi held on.”
The above article snip is available in its entirety at http://in.rediff.com/sports/2004/aug/23oly-ath1.htm
Well, I see it happen all the time. People train and live for an event, the event unfolds, and dreams of victory are crushed. But, is that really the intent and spirit of competition and amateur athletics? Let’s take a closer look from an entirely factual point of view.
First, let’s look at the true meaning of the word amateur. It has changed from a positive meaning to a disparaging meaning over the years. From Merriam Webster and from dictionary.com:
Etymology: French, from Latin amator lover, from amare to love1 : DEVOTEE, ADMIRER2 : one who engages in a pursuit, study, science, or sport as a pastime rather than as a profession3 : one lacking in experience and competence in an art or science.
Second, let’s look at the true meaning of competition. According to Merriam Webster:
Etymology: Late Latin competere to seek together, from Latin, to come together, agree, be suitable, from com- + petere to go to, seek:
1 : to strive consciously or unconsciously for an objective (as position, profit, or a prize) : be in a state of rivalry
Finally, let’s look at the word spirit, from the Merriam Webster definition:
Etymology: Middle English, from Old French or Latin; Old French, from Latin spiritus, literally, breath, from spirare to blow, breathe1 : an animating or vital principle held to give life to physical organisms
Now that we have knowledge of the words, true combined meanings can be derived. So, let me try my hand at defining the “spirit of amateur competition.”
“A gathering of people, with whom a common love of a particular sport is held, to strive for a common goal of victory, in which vitality also results.”
Now combined, it is clear that there are TWO purposes when one engages in the spirit of amateur competition. To win and to live [better]. And underlying all of that is love. I may have an altruistic view, but if one is acting out of love, then both goals of the competitive spirit need not be accomplished. By engaging in the competitive spirit alone, vitality is a result… and isn’t that a victory in-and-of itself? Winning should always be the goal, and without it there is no real competition. But winning is merely a bonus, as it is temporary. Vitality is clearly ”victorious’ over winning, as it is the essence of life, the addition of “spice” to our world and lives. “Winning is not everything, but the effort to win is,” says Zig Ziglar. There are variations to this quote such as “learning does not come from victory, but from struggle.” I believe these statements to be true.
Therefore, I have a hard time with quitters and sore losers. I cannot find sympathy in those situations. With the Radcliffe debacle, initial articles said she feigned some sort of leg injury. That is nonsense. Unless she was carried away, she still should have been on the course. Personally, I would have crawled the last 3 miles if I had to. There was a stadium full of people and over a hundred nations watching, and in the race of her life, Radcliffe quit and cried. She could have continued and cried, and she would never be forgotten. But as it is, this will haunt her. There are reasons that there are not millions of links on the web to post race interviews with her. First, she was too ashamed to talk. Second, the press is loath to spend too much time on quitters at the Olympics. Harsh? Maybe. But, as an amateur athlete, defined by a supposed love of her sport, she did a great injustice to her sport when she quit. It was an act of selfishness instead of selflessness. And the spirit of competition took a blow to the gut as well. When watching this unfold, did anyone feel vital? Conversely, would anyone have felt vital if she had continued toward the finish, crossing the finish and defying the tragedy of defeat?
Now, there is another side. Enough about Radcliffe. As the current world record holder I hope she will go on to win more races. Hopefully she can uphold the spirit of amateur competition when she does. I say this because the flip side of feeling shame is promoting shame. This is done through trash talking and over celebrating. Quitting is not nearly the problem that over celebrating has become. The NFL has tried to subdue it, and a portion of the rabid fan base and the highlight-dependent media have dubbed the NFL acronym as meaning the No Fun League. This is a warped view of competition in my opinion. But the NFL is a professional league, and those guys are playing for money and entertainment’. There is no pretense in that fact… and what passes as entertainment to one person may indeed repulse another person. So, I cannot criticize it too heavily. Still, the wrong message is delivered when a secondary goal of competition becomes humiliating the opponent. So now we have taunting and spiking and goalpost destruction and fighting… the negative list just goes on and on. Let me pose these questions:
1. “Would it be OK for an Olympic marathoner to trash talk their opponents on the course with a microphone for audio television coverage?”
2. “Would it be OK for me, upon finishing my marathon, to back track the course and encourage other potential finishers to quit because they can’t win anyway?”
3. “Would it be OK for a gymnast to shout at their competitors during the routine in an effort to distract them?
I could go on forever here, and most often the answer to the scenarios I would pose would be “no.”
Thankfully, there are still a few professional sports that, most of the time, promote the spirit of amateur competition. Golf comes to mind. Men and women battle and grind against themselves and each other on the course. Good shots and playmaking are usually acknowledged, even by competitors. There are no gifts… if an athlete has an off day they will most certainly be beaten badly. At the end they all remove their hats and shake hands. Competition has brought them closer. After all, they had a common love for the game and a common goal of winning, and all of them struggled mightily for that goal. Tennis comes close to this sometimes, too. There are other sports with higher standards, too, but none reach the pinnacle of amateur sports.
So, what can we take from this look at the spirit of amateur competition? I would say this to everyone. Compete! Go out and compete in something which you are bound to lose [but try to win anyway!]. Enjoy the lessons of competition like humility, and respect. Conversely, go out and compete in something which you are likely to win. Then, you may teach the same lessons to others. In doing this you will find your life more vital than before. You will find new friends. You will find your limits of physical and emotional endurance. After all, you will have competed and acted out of love, and life doesn’t get much purer than that.
I will end with a few quotes.
I love the winning, I can take the losing, but most of all I Love to play.
~ Boris Becker ~
The medals don't mean anything and the glory doesn't last. It's all about your happiness. The rewards are going to come, but my happiness is just loving the sport and having fun performing.
~ Jackie Joyner Kersee ~
I don't compete with other discus throwers. I compete with my own history.
~ Al Oerter ~
If you make every game a life and death proposition, you're going to have problems. For one thing, you'll be dead a lot.
~ Dean Smith ~
Wise men never sit and wail their loss, but cheerily seek how to redress their harms.
~ William Shakespeare ~
The opponents and I are really one. My strength and skills only half of the equation. The other half is theirs. An opponent is someone whose strength joined to yours creates a certain result.
~ Sadaharu Oh ~
My greatest point is my persistence. I never give up in a match. However down I am, I fight until the last ball. My list of matches shows that I have turned a great many so-called irretrievable defeats into victories.
~ Bjorn Borg ~
Sports do not build character. They reveal it.
~ John Wooden ~
The first thing is to love your sport. Never do it to please someone else. It has to be yours.
~ Peggy Fleming ~
Men talk as if victory were something fortunate. Work is victory.
~ Ralph Waldo Emerson ~
Any time you try to win everything, you must be willing to lose everything.
~ Larry Csonka ~
If you set a goal for yourself and are able to achieve it, you have won your race. Your goal can be to come in first, to improve your performance, or just to finish the race -- it's up to you.
~ Dave Scott ~
You can stand tall without standing on someone. You can be a victor without having victims.
~ Harriet Woods ~
AND FINALLY, ONE OF MY OWN…
Every time I lace up or strap the velcro on my shoes it is a new personal record, because it is one more step or pedal stroke than I have ever done before.
~ Reed Nelson – September, 2004~
Commentary by Reed Nelson originally written 30 September, 2004
ARTICLE EXCERPT
“Japan's diminutive Mizuki Noguchi put on an extraordinary display of front-running to win the Olympic women's marathon title on Sunday as Paula Radcliffe's challenge ended in bitter tears. Big pre-race favourite Radcliffe, who led for the first half of the race, failed to finish, breaking down in tears at the 36-km mark as she slipped back to fourth after two hours' running.
The Briton, world record holder and never beaten in three previous marathons, tried to re-start but then slumped down by the side of the road, sobbing. Her record was almost 11 minutes quicker than Sunday's winning time.
The marathon had begun at 1800 local time but the heat was still intense. By five km, the lead group had already been whittled down to around a dozen. Radcliffe, desperate for a first title at a major championships, was unable to fight her eagerness and broke to the front after 25 minutes, shadowed by the Kenyans, Ethiopians and Japanese.
Already the event, on a steadily rising course, was taking casualties. Lydia Simon of Romania, the Sydney silver medallist, was dropped and soon 10 were left at the front. Kenya's Margaret Okayo, the fastest performer of the year, also lost touch as the race proper began. After exactly one-and-a-half hours Noguchi made her move, blasting up yet another incline and exploding the leading pack of seven. Only Alemu was able to keep in touch but Noguchi kept attacking up the climbs to forge 15 seconds clear, then 30, with a third of the race to run. Ndereba cut the gap to 12 seconds with two kilometres to go but Noguchi held on.”
The above article snip is available in its entirety at http://in.rediff.com/sports/2004/aug/23oly-ath1.htm
Well, I see it happen all the time. People train and live for an event, the event unfolds, and dreams of victory are crushed. But, is that really the intent and spirit of competition and amateur athletics? Let’s take a closer look from an entirely factual point of view.
First, let’s look at the true meaning of the word amateur. It has changed from a positive meaning to a disparaging meaning over the years. From Merriam Webster and from dictionary.com:
Etymology: French, from Latin amator lover, from amare to love1 : DEVOTEE, ADMIRER2 : one who engages in a pursuit, study, science, or sport as a pastime rather than as a profession3 : one lacking in experience and competence in an art or science.
Second, let’s look at the true meaning of competition. According to Merriam Webster:
Etymology: Late Latin competere to seek together, from Latin, to come together, agree, be suitable, from com- + petere to go to, seek:
1 : to strive consciously or unconsciously for an objective (as position, profit, or a prize) : be in a state of rivalry
Finally, let’s look at the word spirit, from the Merriam Webster definition:
Etymology: Middle English, from Old French or Latin; Old French, from Latin spiritus, literally, breath, from spirare to blow, breathe1 : an animating or vital principle held to give life to physical organisms
Now that we have knowledge of the words, true combined meanings can be derived. So, let me try my hand at defining the “spirit of amateur competition.”
“A gathering of people, with whom a common love of a particular sport is held, to strive for a common goal of victory, in which vitality also results.”
Now combined, it is clear that there are TWO purposes when one engages in the spirit of amateur competition. To win and to live [better]. And underlying all of that is love. I may have an altruistic view, but if one is acting out of love, then both goals of the competitive spirit need not be accomplished. By engaging in the competitive spirit alone, vitality is a result… and isn’t that a victory in-and-of itself? Winning should always be the goal, and without it there is no real competition. But winning is merely a bonus, as it is temporary. Vitality is clearly ”victorious’ over winning, as it is the essence of life, the addition of “spice” to our world and lives. “Winning is not everything, but the effort to win is,” says Zig Ziglar. There are variations to this quote such as “learning does not come from victory, but from struggle.” I believe these statements to be true.
Therefore, I have a hard time with quitters and sore losers. I cannot find sympathy in those situations. With the Radcliffe debacle, initial articles said she feigned some sort of leg injury. That is nonsense. Unless she was carried away, she still should have been on the course. Personally, I would have crawled the last 3 miles if I had to. There was a stadium full of people and over a hundred nations watching, and in the race of her life, Radcliffe quit and cried. She could have continued and cried, and she would never be forgotten. But as it is, this will haunt her. There are reasons that there are not millions of links on the web to post race interviews with her. First, she was too ashamed to talk. Second, the press is loath to spend too much time on quitters at the Olympics. Harsh? Maybe. But, as an amateur athlete, defined by a supposed love of her sport, she did a great injustice to her sport when she quit. It was an act of selfishness instead of selflessness. And the spirit of competition took a blow to the gut as well. When watching this unfold, did anyone feel vital? Conversely, would anyone have felt vital if she had continued toward the finish, crossing the finish and defying the tragedy of defeat?
Now, there is another side. Enough about Radcliffe. As the current world record holder I hope she will go on to win more races. Hopefully she can uphold the spirit of amateur competition when she does. I say this because the flip side of feeling shame is promoting shame. This is done through trash talking and over celebrating. Quitting is not nearly the problem that over celebrating has become. The NFL has tried to subdue it, and a portion of the rabid fan base and the highlight-dependent media have dubbed the NFL acronym as meaning the No Fun League. This is a warped view of competition in my opinion. But the NFL is a professional league, and those guys are playing for money and entertainment’. There is no pretense in that fact… and what passes as entertainment to one person may indeed repulse another person. So, I cannot criticize it too heavily. Still, the wrong message is delivered when a secondary goal of competition becomes humiliating the opponent. So now we have taunting and spiking and goalpost destruction and fighting… the negative list just goes on and on. Let me pose these questions:
1. “Would it be OK for an Olympic marathoner to trash talk their opponents on the course with a microphone for audio television coverage?”
2. “Would it be OK for me, upon finishing my marathon, to back track the course and encourage other potential finishers to quit because they can’t win anyway?”
3. “Would it be OK for a gymnast to shout at their competitors during the routine in an effort to distract them?
I could go on forever here, and most often the answer to the scenarios I would pose would be “no.”
Thankfully, there are still a few professional sports that, most of the time, promote the spirit of amateur competition. Golf comes to mind. Men and women battle and grind against themselves and each other on the course. Good shots and playmaking are usually acknowledged, even by competitors. There are no gifts… if an athlete has an off day they will most certainly be beaten badly. At the end they all remove their hats and shake hands. Competition has brought them closer. After all, they had a common love for the game and a common goal of winning, and all of them struggled mightily for that goal. Tennis comes close to this sometimes, too. There are other sports with higher standards, too, but none reach the pinnacle of amateur sports.
So, what can we take from this look at the spirit of amateur competition? I would say this to everyone. Compete! Go out and compete in something which you are bound to lose [but try to win anyway!]. Enjoy the lessons of competition like humility, and respect. Conversely, go out and compete in something which you are likely to win. Then, you may teach the same lessons to others. In doing this you will find your life more vital than before. You will find new friends. You will find your limits of physical and emotional endurance. After all, you will have competed and acted out of love, and life doesn’t get much purer than that.
I will end with a few quotes.
I love the winning, I can take the losing, but most of all I Love to play.
~ Boris Becker ~
The medals don't mean anything and the glory doesn't last. It's all about your happiness. The rewards are going to come, but my happiness is just loving the sport and having fun performing.
~ Jackie Joyner Kersee ~
I don't compete with other discus throwers. I compete with my own history.
~ Al Oerter ~
If you make every game a life and death proposition, you're going to have problems. For one thing, you'll be dead a lot.
~ Dean Smith ~
Wise men never sit and wail their loss, but cheerily seek how to redress their harms.
~ William Shakespeare ~
The opponents and I are really one. My strength and skills only half of the equation. The other half is theirs. An opponent is someone whose strength joined to yours creates a certain result.
~ Sadaharu Oh ~
My greatest point is my persistence. I never give up in a match. However down I am, I fight until the last ball. My list of matches shows that I have turned a great many so-called irretrievable defeats into victories.
~ Bjorn Borg ~
Sports do not build character. They reveal it.
~ John Wooden ~
The first thing is to love your sport. Never do it to please someone else. It has to be yours.
~ Peggy Fleming ~
Men talk as if victory were something fortunate. Work is victory.
~ Ralph Waldo Emerson ~
Any time you try to win everything, you must be willing to lose everything.
~ Larry Csonka ~
If you set a goal for yourself and are able to achieve it, you have won your race. Your goal can be to come in first, to improve your performance, or just to finish the race -- it's up to you.
~ Dave Scott ~
You can stand tall without standing on someone. You can be a victor without having victims.
~ Harriet Woods ~
AND FINALLY, ONE OF MY OWN…
Every time I lace up or strap the velcro on my shoes it is a new personal record, because it is one more step or pedal stroke than I have ever done before.
~ Reed Nelson – September, 2004~
Sunday, September 19, 2004
2004 Lewis & Clark Marathon Journal
Lewis & Clark Marathon Journal
September 19th, 2004
The Vision
This past year has been a running adventure, and with an early season half marathon, my partner and I had kept our momentum over the spring and summer. We had no goal other than to work out enough to eat whatever we wanted. I think my partner always had her sights set on this half marathon… it is actually a very nice way to bookend the warm seasons. I was non-committal. But, as the month of September drew nearer we ran more and I became available for longer training runs. Following a trip to Las Vegas, two weeks prior to the event and just before a trip to Mexico we ran 12 miles and walked four on a Saturday. It was not a problem. We decided that day to register for the half marathon, as the fine people at Fleet Feet said we could do another lap if we chose to. And there it was, hedged to the maximum, registered to run a half and hoping to complete a full. But, usually one to complain about such evasions to commitment, I thought the whole scheme to be smart. The fact was that we were not prepared for a full 26.2 miles. Why not let our bodies decide on the day of the event?
Training
From a training standpoint, my partner and I do everything. She does more indoor and treadmill work than me. I do more weights and biking than her. Our mileage is probably similar. I like hills, she does not. She likes heat, I do not. There are other fun contrasts. Anyway, she follows the Fleet Feet half marathon schedule pretty well. I am more into the long runs once I have a good base. Since speed and times are not a concern for me, the long run is my key in training.
The Night Before
I made fettuccini Alfredo and we indulged. Crème brulee for dessert and we indulged some more. It was all homemade and wonderful. We planned on meeting at the Arena at 615am.
Race Morning
I set off after eating some lady fingers and Nutella and drinking my usual six shots of expresso. I threw in a protein drink and a glass of water for good measure. Everything seemed fine. I loaded my supplies in the car and drove in the dark onto 364 east. Just as I was grabbing the right lane for the Arena Parkway exit I heard a thump. I thought I must have hit a bird or rabbit and I drove on. There was little traffic at that point. After parking I organized everything and started to put on Body Glide as I watched the cars fill in around me. As I reached for my shoes my heart stopped. The thump I heard was the 70mph force of the wind ripping the shoes off the roof of my car… I had left them there when loading the car earlier!!! I quickly started the car and drove against the incoming flow of cars to the Arena. I was home in less than 10 minutes and grabbed more shoes and socks. Returning to 364 I knew exactly where to look for my Saucony’s. And there they were, safely positioned on in the “V” space between the merging lane from Heritage Landing and the main traffic lanes. I pulled off and grabbed them. I found my trusty Wright socks as well. Everything was good… if I could make the start time. The traffic had become horrendous. In a cell phone call with my partner, I had set up a meeting spot under the 10 minute pace marker. I made it with five minutes to spare. There was no need to warm up… my heart had been racing for 30 minutes! We were off!
The Start – Mile 2
DAG timing is cool. No worries about getting your true time. We just trotted up to the start line, and it took a couple of minutes. There was no real nervous energy, but anticipation of a good day by most. My partner handles things a little different than me. I usually end up the talker and cheerleader in stressful moments. She is usually irritated by my upbeat approach initially, and thankful for the diversion later! I am a militantly positive person, and everyone around me realizes that if they stick around long enough. The runners did not spread out very much for the first few miles. We ran in a crowd on the concrete of Arena Parkway. At the 2-mile mark on Main Street I was commenting on how Flat Five runners struggled mightily up the shallow grade in front of the Ameristar. I commented that I do not consider that particular geographical obstruction a hill at all, and that, according to me, there were NO hills on this course. Hey, I told you I was an optimist!
Miles 3-6
As we made Riverside Drive we traced our normal training route for about 1.5 miles. It was nice to be on your “home field” for your first marathon, I thought. Runners were comfortably spread out as we made the turn onto Second Street. As we made it through DuSable and Bales parks, I had no idea there was so much space up that way. Winding our way through the area would be the only new ground we would tread that day. Getting onto the Katy was gratifying for the joints, but I was careful of the pebbles. Getting one in your shoes is a frustrating experience, and would require a stop to remove it.
Miles 7-11
This is Katy Trail country. Flat, easy, shaded. The first two traits are welcome in a marathon, but torturously boring in training. Shade is always welcome! The only diversion is the section through Frontier Park. The Missouri River is a source of energy for me. It is ancient and mysterious and powerful. It hums to me. I liked being close to it for a moment. I know it sounds weird… but I can’t tell you how many times in the winter I have stood atop a bluff and watched the river flow. It is so persistent in its progress. It is exactly what we need to be to run a marathon, I thought.
Miles 12-13.1
Going up to the new parking lot at Page was another grade, but since riding it the first time I have thought the hill to be remarkably well done. I just zoom right up it on a bike. Running was no different. Two women were just hammering up the top section, which is the steepest part. I had heard them discuss getting up and getting over it quickly. I liked that approach. At the top I heard a man say “go Reed” at the food station. I looked back and was blinded by the southeastern sun, and just gave appreciative thumbs up to the unknown man. At the turn into the Arena parking lot at mile 12 we saw Sue, Jon and Jennifer from the “wine circle.” They had said they might come down and cheer us on at the halfway mark. It was VERY cool to have your own fans! Just after them there was a group offering Dixie cups of beer. I resisted the temptation. I had discussed not kicking the finish with my partner. Yeah… right! She never disagreed or agreed, but with her competitive nature she just could not hold back. After circumnavigating the parking lot we took the left turn into the Arena and finished in a flurry of activity and people. We walked around disoriented and grabbed some water. We finally made our way outside and to the car. Sue, Jon and Jennifer took a few quick pictures and we were off and walking.
The second half… mile 13.1 – 15
This was a discussion period for my partner and I. We committed to our walk run pattern and finishing, and I committed to staying with her. She seemed to deflect this commitment or not fully understand why I would do that. Marathons are a thing better experienced with others, but that is my opinion. I just get more out of doing things as a team… I accomplished enough by myself. I suppose not everyone feels the same, and that is cool, too. My partner had a blister on the knuckle of her big toe; I was going to be there for her if she were to tough it out to the finish. Our pattern was to be 2 walk, 1.5 run, 2 walk 1.5 run, 2 walk, 1 run, 2 walk, finish running. We reached the 15-mile marker and I was happy for the fact I had stopped sweating and regained my breath completely. I felt particularly strong. We started running again.
Miles 16 – 20
Truthfully, these miles just flew by. We made jokes with running club member Sheila at the Boonslick intersection about how we needed foot transplants and where we could go to get them. We ran along Riverside and onto Second, again knowing every inch and crack in the surface. We walked into and through the turnaround and began running again on the Katy Trail. I had to convince my partner to run, as her foot was really hurting. She gutted it out and found a favorable groove. As we progressed I made the comment that every step or stride we took for the remainder of the event was a new PR for both of us. We made the 20-mile mark at the South end of Frontier Park and started walking again.
Miles 21-23
At this point we could really smell the finish. It became easier in a way. But, my pinky toes were hypersensitive and my partner’s blister was raw and painful. Mentally, though… it was easier. At this point we both knew we would be able to finish. The whole race we had drank at every stop and did gels every 30 to 45 minutes. I had brought electrolyte drink for my fuel belt, which I had reloaded at my car, and had consumed 84 ounces of it… my kidneys ached slightly, and I realized why! We saw people finishing at the end of this stretch, which was very emotional for me. I saw two boys join their father to run the last mile and almost lost it.
Miles 24 – Finish
We were on our last interval… we had made it! There was no question at this point for me. The day, the weather, the energy, the plan… everything had fallen into place. Even with the catastrophic beginning, it had all worked out. We walked up to the 364 parking lot and I finally found out who my fan was. Ken, ultra-runner freak extraordinaire, was the man I could not see before. Ironwoman Vicki was there, too. At the Arena Parkway re-entry, running club member Terry was out there in her cast, recovering from a stress fracture. Damn, we were lucky! We had all of these people we knew see us and cheer us on. We had Terry there and she reminded us that we were healthy enough to do the event. We saw others as well. Ironcouple Terry and Kay were on the course as volunteers. It was awesome. We reached the 25-mile mark and started to run again. Another lap of the parking lot… but this time I grabbed a beer when offered and chugged it! As Severine and I hit the 26-mile mark I started thinking out loud.
“320 meters to go,” I said.
“And to think that my [ex] wife moved out a year ago yesterday,” I said. My partner began to cry a little. We have both had tough roads this past year. But we have created a nice legacy so far, becoming better people than we were before. We surged into the chute into the Arena, seesawing with each other in a full sprint. I kept yelling at her to push it. We were marathoners!!!
Post Race – Aftermath
I took off my shoes and walked on the freezing Arena floor. I placed my shoes on the finish line for a few moments. They had carried me through some miles, and would never bear my weight again. I don’t intend to run another marathon either. But I never say never! My more likely future is a graduation to Triathlons and Duathlons. My partner caught the bug, and will likely do another one. I hit the massage table and my smaller toes cramped into a bird’s claw position. A young lady marveled as she massaged the cramps away. I felt so good. They didn’t even hurt. It was great to walk out to the car in bare feet. I saw running club members Glen and Kelly resting on the grass. We had a few words, just like we had done in the starting mass. It had all come full circle. But now, after, burning about 4,000 calories and consuming only 1,000, it was time to EAT!
Equipment Details
Almost 100% of training and racing done in Saucony Grid Omni 3 CRM-M [Moderate Stability] 9.5 regular width. These shoes have a wide toe box and prevent my main foot problem… toe overlap/rub. Alternate shoes were New Balance 870OR [off-road] 9.5D. Also used Wright Running Lite double layer socks and BodyGlide lubricant to eliminate almost all blisters, rubs and chaffing. Used Clif Shot Mocha Gels in Amphipod Micropack LandSport & Airflow Rapid Access pouches. Used Ultima Replenisher sugar free electrolyte replacement drink in a 2005 Terminator 6 bottle Fuel Belt. I use running-specific shorts and wicking poly shirts of several brands... my favorites are InSport and Asics. Finally, I use waterproof athletic tape over my nipples to prevent wearing the ‘red number eleven’ at the end of long runs!!!
September 19th, 2004
The Vision
This past year has been a running adventure, and with an early season half marathon, my partner and I had kept our momentum over the spring and summer. We had no goal other than to work out enough to eat whatever we wanted. I think my partner always had her sights set on this half marathon… it is actually a very nice way to bookend the warm seasons. I was non-committal. But, as the month of September drew nearer we ran more and I became available for longer training runs. Following a trip to Las Vegas, two weeks prior to the event and just before a trip to Mexico we ran 12 miles and walked four on a Saturday. It was not a problem. We decided that day to register for the half marathon, as the fine people at Fleet Feet said we could do another lap if we chose to. And there it was, hedged to the maximum, registered to run a half and hoping to complete a full. But, usually one to complain about such evasions to commitment, I thought the whole scheme to be smart. The fact was that we were not prepared for a full 26.2 miles. Why not let our bodies decide on the day of the event?
Training
From a training standpoint, my partner and I do everything. She does more indoor and treadmill work than me. I do more weights and biking than her. Our mileage is probably similar. I like hills, she does not. She likes heat, I do not. There are other fun contrasts. Anyway, she follows the Fleet Feet half marathon schedule pretty well. I am more into the long runs once I have a good base. Since speed and times are not a concern for me, the long run is my key in training.
The Night Before
I made fettuccini Alfredo and we indulged. Crème brulee for dessert and we indulged some more. It was all homemade and wonderful. We planned on meeting at the Arena at 615am.
Race Morning
I set off after eating some lady fingers and Nutella and drinking my usual six shots of expresso. I threw in a protein drink and a glass of water for good measure. Everything seemed fine. I loaded my supplies in the car and drove in the dark onto 364 east. Just as I was grabbing the right lane for the Arena Parkway exit I heard a thump. I thought I must have hit a bird or rabbit and I drove on. There was little traffic at that point. After parking I organized everything and started to put on Body Glide as I watched the cars fill in around me. As I reached for my shoes my heart stopped. The thump I heard was the 70mph force of the wind ripping the shoes off the roof of my car… I had left them there when loading the car earlier!!! I quickly started the car and drove against the incoming flow of cars to the Arena. I was home in less than 10 minutes and grabbed more shoes and socks. Returning to 364 I knew exactly where to look for my Saucony’s. And there they were, safely positioned on in the “V” space between the merging lane from Heritage Landing and the main traffic lanes. I pulled off and grabbed them. I found my trusty Wright socks as well. Everything was good… if I could make the start time. The traffic had become horrendous. In a cell phone call with my partner, I had set up a meeting spot under the 10 minute pace marker. I made it with five minutes to spare. There was no need to warm up… my heart had been racing for 30 minutes! We were off!
The Start – Mile 2
DAG timing is cool. No worries about getting your true time. We just trotted up to the start line, and it took a couple of minutes. There was no real nervous energy, but anticipation of a good day by most. My partner handles things a little different than me. I usually end up the talker and cheerleader in stressful moments. She is usually irritated by my upbeat approach initially, and thankful for the diversion later! I am a militantly positive person, and everyone around me realizes that if they stick around long enough. The runners did not spread out very much for the first few miles. We ran in a crowd on the concrete of Arena Parkway. At the 2-mile mark on Main Street I was commenting on how Flat Five runners struggled mightily up the shallow grade in front of the Ameristar. I commented that I do not consider that particular geographical obstruction a hill at all, and that, according to me, there were NO hills on this course. Hey, I told you I was an optimist!
Miles 3-6
As we made Riverside Drive we traced our normal training route for about 1.5 miles. It was nice to be on your “home field” for your first marathon, I thought. Runners were comfortably spread out as we made the turn onto Second Street. As we made it through DuSable and Bales parks, I had no idea there was so much space up that way. Winding our way through the area would be the only new ground we would tread that day. Getting onto the Katy was gratifying for the joints, but I was careful of the pebbles. Getting one in your shoes is a frustrating experience, and would require a stop to remove it.
Miles 7-11
This is Katy Trail country. Flat, easy, shaded. The first two traits are welcome in a marathon, but torturously boring in training. Shade is always welcome! The only diversion is the section through Frontier Park. The Missouri River is a source of energy for me. It is ancient and mysterious and powerful. It hums to me. I liked being close to it for a moment. I know it sounds weird… but I can’t tell you how many times in the winter I have stood atop a bluff and watched the river flow. It is so persistent in its progress. It is exactly what we need to be to run a marathon, I thought.
Miles 12-13.1
Going up to the new parking lot at Page was another grade, but since riding it the first time I have thought the hill to be remarkably well done. I just zoom right up it on a bike. Running was no different. Two women were just hammering up the top section, which is the steepest part. I had heard them discuss getting up and getting over it quickly. I liked that approach. At the top I heard a man say “go Reed” at the food station. I looked back and was blinded by the southeastern sun, and just gave appreciative thumbs up to the unknown man. At the turn into the Arena parking lot at mile 12 we saw Sue, Jon and Jennifer from the “wine circle.” They had said they might come down and cheer us on at the halfway mark. It was VERY cool to have your own fans! Just after them there was a group offering Dixie cups of beer. I resisted the temptation. I had discussed not kicking the finish with my partner. Yeah… right! She never disagreed or agreed, but with her competitive nature she just could not hold back. After circumnavigating the parking lot we took the left turn into the Arena and finished in a flurry of activity and people. We walked around disoriented and grabbed some water. We finally made our way outside and to the car. Sue, Jon and Jennifer took a few quick pictures and we were off and walking.
The second half… mile 13.1 – 15
This was a discussion period for my partner and I. We committed to our walk run pattern and finishing, and I committed to staying with her. She seemed to deflect this commitment or not fully understand why I would do that. Marathons are a thing better experienced with others, but that is my opinion. I just get more out of doing things as a team… I accomplished enough by myself. I suppose not everyone feels the same, and that is cool, too. My partner had a blister on the knuckle of her big toe; I was going to be there for her if she were to tough it out to the finish. Our pattern was to be 2 walk, 1.5 run, 2 walk 1.5 run, 2 walk, 1 run, 2 walk, finish running. We reached the 15-mile marker and I was happy for the fact I had stopped sweating and regained my breath completely. I felt particularly strong. We started running again.
Miles 16 – 20
Truthfully, these miles just flew by. We made jokes with running club member Sheila at the Boonslick intersection about how we needed foot transplants and where we could go to get them. We ran along Riverside and onto Second, again knowing every inch and crack in the surface. We walked into and through the turnaround and began running again on the Katy Trail. I had to convince my partner to run, as her foot was really hurting. She gutted it out and found a favorable groove. As we progressed I made the comment that every step or stride we took for the remainder of the event was a new PR for both of us. We made the 20-mile mark at the South end of Frontier Park and started walking again.
Miles 21-23
At this point we could really smell the finish. It became easier in a way. But, my pinky toes were hypersensitive and my partner’s blister was raw and painful. Mentally, though… it was easier. At this point we both knew we would be able to finish. The whole race we had drank at every stop and did gels every 30 to 45 minutes. I had brought electrolyte drink for my fuel belt, which I had reloaded at my car, and had consumed 84 ounces of it… my kidneys ached slightly, and I realized why! We saw people finishing at the end of this stretch, which was very emotional for me. I saw two boys join their father to run the last mile and almost lost it.
Miles 24 – Finish
We were on our last interval… we had made it! There was no question at this point for me. The day, the weather, the energy, the plan… everything had fallen into place. Even with the catastrophic beginning, it had all worked out. We walked up to the 364 parking lot and I finally found out who my fan was. Ken, ultra-runner freak extraordinaire, was the man I could not see before. Ironwoman Vicki was there, too. At the Arena Parkway re-entry, running club member Terry was out there in her cast, recovering from a stress fracture. Damn, we were lucky! We had all of these people we knew see us and cheer us on. We had Terry there and she reminded us that we were healthy enough to do the event. We saw others as well. Ironcouple Terry and Kay were on the course as volunteers. It was awesome. We reached the 25-mile mark and started to run again. Another lap of the parking lot… but this time I grabbed a beer when offered and chugged it! As Severine and I hit the 26-mile mark I started thinking out loud.
“320 meters to go,” I said.
“And to think that my [ex] wife moved out a year ago yesterday,” I said. My partner began to cry a little. We have both had tough roads this past year. But we have created a nice legacy so far, becoming better people than we were before. We surged into the chute into the Arena, seesawing with each other in a full sprint. I kept yelling at her to push it. We were marathoners!!!
Post Race – Aftermath
I took off my shoes and walked on the freezing Arena floor. I placed my shoes on the finish line for a few moments. They had carried me through some miles, and would never bear my weight again. I don’t intend to run another marathon either. But I never say never! My more likely future is a graduation to Triathlons and Duathlons. My partner caught the bug, and will likely do another one. I hit the massage table and my smaller toes cramped into a bird’s claw position. A young lady marveled as she massaged the cramps away. I felt so good. They didn’t even hurt. It was great to walk out to the car in bare feet. I saw running club members Glen and Kelly resting on the grass. We had a few words, just like we had done in the starting mass. It had all come full circle. But now, after, burning about 4,000 calories and consuming only 1,000, it was time to EAT!
Equipment Details
Almost 100% of training and racing done in Saucony Grid Omni 3 CRM-M [Moderate Stability] 9.5 regular width. These shoes have a wide toe box and prevent my main foot problem… toe overlap/rub. Alternate shoes were New Balance 870OR [off-road] 9.5D. Also used Wright Running Lite double layer socks and BodyGlide lubricant to eliminate almost all blisters, rubs and chaffing. Used Clif Shot Mocha Gels in Amphipod Micropack LandSport & Airflow Rapid Access pouches. Used Ultima Replenisher sugar free electrolyte replacement drink in a 2005 Terminator 6 bottle Fuel Belt. I use running-specific shorts and wicking poly shirts of several brands... my favorites are InSport and Asics. Finally, I use waterproof athletic tape over my nipples to prevent wearing the ‘red number eleven’ at the end of long runs!!!
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