Fast and Furious

Greg’s new shoes – wings of eagles!

Fast and Furious. It was HOW WE RAN yesterday. Coincidentally, it was also the name of the event. There are innumerable explanations for both of us setting personal bests in the 5K, including the simple adage “some days you’ve just got it”. Bev often says that if you do enough runs, a small percentage will feel effortless as you chew up the road, an equally small percentage will feel like your legs have turned to cement-filled stumps, and all of the others, the vast majority, will fall somewhere in-between.

Today, my run felt nearly effortless. Bev didn’t have the same kind of day, never quite hitting her usual rhythmic tempo, but she still flew through the course and we were within seconds of each other at the finish line. When runners have a race where everything comes together, they immediately begin to deconstruct their effort with the hopes of replicating it. They start with all of the physical factors. Weather, rest, shoes, flexibility, training, and apparel. General health, allergies, hydration, fuel, and digestion. The list of things that can go wonderfully right or horribly wrong can be very long. I ran in new shoes, had no apparel malfunctions, and all of my body parts cooperated. That’s a good race day.

Yet, I’ve had plenty of races where all of those things have gone right and never finished close to today’s race time. I expect someone to knock on the door at any moment and tell me to pee in a cup. I wonder if my Claritin is on the list of banned substances. I also doubt that it helped me find my inner gazelle.

Do you remember the scene in Forrest Gump when young Forrest is running down a country road and he runs like the wind as the pieces of his leg braces fall off? Once he shed those braces that straightened his spine and he was no longer constrained and defined by them, he ran free. And fast. My braces haven’t been orthopedic but they’ve been just as restrictive. Divorce, work, the voice that whispers “oh, that’s not you (insert positive attribute – fast, competitive, deserving… you get the idea)”, and the real killer, defining self through the eyes of others. All of those things that keep us from reaching our fullest potential manifest themselves in the oddest ways and it takes hard work to loosen their grip. They slow you down, or worst, keep you stuck in the mud while a full, rich life passes you by. But if you keep at it, you might just wake up one day and run free. And fast. And if you’re REALLY lucky like me, you have your own Jenny right alongside you yelling “run, Forrest, run!”.

This Is How the Crazy Talk Starts

I’ve decided that crazy people don’t know that they’re crazy. They believe that their behavior is perfectly normal. If a crazy person walks in circles talking to nobody in particular and all of his friends do the same thing, he could only conclude that his behavior is perfectly acceptable. To some extent, certain behaviors can be socialized across a group, introducing ideas that were previously considered ridiculous or unattainable. The same thing occurs with endurance athletes and adventure junkies. Somebody says ” I’m thinking of climbing Mt. Kilimanjaro” and before you can engage the part of the brain that controls rational thought, your mouth forms the words “me too”.

Your friends do events with titles like Death Ride and you start to wonder… maybe. This should not be considered normal behavior in any population, yet we accept it, embrace it, and even turn it into a badge of honor. The insane in a constant struggle to out-crazy themselves. The latest example of this came after volunteering at the Western States Endurance Run, a 100 mile trail run in the California Sierra Nevada mountains. This is a race, where runners have 30 hours to run the course, which includes 18,000 feet of ascent and 22,000 feet of descent. The runners use pacers who accompany them for 20-30 miles at a time to provide safety and motivation. The course is pitch black at night, lit only by each runner’s headlamp. The trails are very narrow and the runners’ instructions warns of trail hazards including bears, mountain lions, and rattlesnakes. Runners are told to watch where they place their feet and hands. If you complete the race within the time limit, you get a big belt buckle. Silver for finishing under 24 hours, bronze for sub-30 hours. Unless you’re very fast, you will be running for two sunrises. Before the big day, night, and another day of running, you train for months, running 50 mile qualifying trail runs. You enter a lottery and hope that 1 in 10 odds work in your favor. If you hit the race entry lottery, you pay a large registration fee. Then you train more. You convince friends to pace you for a marathon distance in the dark woods with bears, cougars, and rattlesnakes. Once you’ve found enough stupid loyal friends to serve as pacers, you train more. You pay a bazillion dollars to a chiropractor and a massage therapist to keep you injury-free. All for a belt buckle with huge bragging rights.

Our primary reasons for volunteering were to give back to our running community and to check out the race. We’d heard about it for so long and I had even met someone who’d completed it a few years ago. We were intrigued by it. Upon arriving in late afternoon, we pitched in to help with assembling the aid station, located at the Auburn Hills Trail area, 85 miles from the start line.

All runners began at 5:00am and the first male runner arrived at our station at 6:07pm. He had been on the trail for just over 13 hours and looked better than I do after a five mile run. I should also mention that his name is Kilian Jornet and that he broke the record for running up and down Mt. Kilimanjaro (19,540′) in Africa last year. He did it in 7 hours and 14 minutes. It will take us eight days. Check out Kilian Jornet’s Kilimanjaro Run on YouTube. Those who knew the story of Kilian Jornet were a little star-struck when the Spaniard came running into our aid station. He was completely relaxed and very engaging with all of the volunteers. At that point, he held a four minute lead over the second place runner, the exact gap between them at the finish line 15 miles later.

The majority of runners arrived in the middle of the night after they’d already been running for 20+ hours. We witnessed runners in various states of physical distress but we were prepared for all of them, even though it meant staying up all night.

A normal person would have taken all of this in and wondered why in the world anybody would ever voluntarily put their body through such an ordeal. I can tell you why. Crazy people hang out with crazy people and none of them know that they’re crazy. They all think that paying a race organizer for the privilege of inflicting pain on your body is a perfectly normal thing to do. Proof? The conversation on the drive home went like this. “I would love to do that”. “Me too”. This is how the crazy talk starts.

47 Seconds

A lot can happen in 47 seconds. Championships are won, natural disasters unleashed, a talent-deficient celebrity goes in and out of rehab. It’s also the amount of time spent stopping to take this photo and a couple of others.

Normally, this wouldn’t be a big deal and those 47 seconds would have come and gone without a thought. But this photo was taken during an organized trail run on Angel Island. At my request. By Bev. Who finished in second place in her age group. By 47 seconds. Crap.

Thus, the title of this photo: Second Place.

Running on Sandpaper

We’ve all forgotten things for a race or an event – cycling shoes, jacket, gloves, sunglasses, iPod, or a water bottle. Over the years, I’ve developed a mental checklist of those things and now I have Bev to help me remember things that I sometimes forget going out the door.

I’ve forgotten gloves, water, even cycling shoes. Now I add shoe inserts to the list. Yes, those thin, flimsy things that some abused Chinese laborer shoves into your running shoes to cover up all of the glue and the seams on the inside of the shoe.

Shoe inserts are something you don’t consider until you don’t have them. You never even think about those paper thin pieces until you run without them, your feet feeling like they’re getting a sandpaper pedicure with no arch support.

So, we’re at the staging area for the Coyote Hills Trail Race, 40 minutes from home, organizing our gear before we catch the shuttle bus to the start. I slip on my new trail shoes and my feet say “um, hello, dumbass – something’s missing down here”. Aaaaagggghhhhh! We consider skipping the run and returning home. I decide to suck it up, figuring that I can always turn around and walk back to the start line if it’s too terrible.

Oh, and did I mention that we were both registered for a half-marathon? 13.1 miles of my feet slapping the ground with flat, unsupported, freakishly thin soles on my new trail running shoes. Fortunately, it turns out that my adventurous spirit can still be tamed by rational thought, so I swapped my registration to the 5K route. My better half was nice enough to run the 10K so that I wouldn’t have to wait around for her at the finish.

So I ran 3.1 miles in shoes with no inserts and no orthotics (which is why I’d taken out the darn things in the first place). I flew through the course, passing people right and left, and when I got to the finish I noticed that there were only a handful of runners there. Go figure. I smoked those few miles in my funky, insert-less shoes. And now I’ve added “shoes AND inserts” to my run prep checklist.

Run Chicago

A 54th birthday present, courtesy of Younger Pea. A guided running tour, 12 miles round trip from the Hyatt Regency Chicago to Wrigley Field, returning on the Lake Michigan Shoreline. Unforgettable! Huge thanks to Marlin from City Running Tours. Learn more about City Running Tours. To read Marlin’s personal story, check out his book, Our Life on the Run: A Story of Running 50 Marathons in 50 States about how he ran marathons in all 50 states for his family.