Overlapping Lessons for Me and My Nine Year Old Son

Today was another “last” before the Philadelphia Marathon.  The last run planned as a progression run.  7 miles.  Started at 8:00 and worked my way down to 6:30.  Did it on the treadmill.  Felt easy enough that I decided to challenge myself a little more than normal at the end.  So, instead of just running the 7 miles with the pace getting faster by 15 seconds each mile, I did that and I made sure to increase the incline each quarter mile during the last mile.  With just an easy 4 on Monday and two 7-mile quality workouts, my legs are more than ready to go.  It has been wonderful to have a feeling of complete confidence in a workout like this.  Of course, I did not go outside to run—I didn’t like the cold this morning and the person I was supposed to run with had a good reason for backing out—but the treadmill work was just plain solid.  Leaves me with 10 days until the race.  Now at 1948.5 miles, with 6 more workouts to go before the marathon.  Getting ever closer.  Still pondering what I will do with my running after this.  Still don’t have an answer.  But maybe I don’t need one.  And I don’t need the pressure of figuring one out at this moment.

So, what else was interesting since the last entry? 

Three things.  First, I had an interesting discussion with a colleague about seeing the dots and not only connecting the dots, but realizing that there is something wlaw in the space between the dots.  I liked his vision of realizing that there is something else there.  I had never expressed it that way before.  It is sort of like not only seeing the stars in a constellation but also drawing in the entire “figure” around the constellation as illustrations of Orion and Capricorn or Ursa Major and Ursa Minor would show.  Or in a coloring book with connecting the dot activities to connect the dots and then color in the figure and add to the figure.  To not just make the connections but to innovate from them and to build upon them.

Second, I finally had an opportunity for my direct supervisor to find out about my tattoo.  More than one and one-half years of working under his supervision and finally a reason for him to find out—although most other people within the school know.  Having traveled to San Antonio (as I mentioned earlier this week), when I had my first one-on-one meeting with the Dean after I returned, he observed “no cowboy boots?”  I said, “No, not me.”  Then he ran down other things that he apparently associates with Texas including asking “No tattoos?”  I had not paused before any others, but I did pause before that one.  The pause startled the Dean, so he looked without asking, “Right?”  And I told him that I didn’t need to because I already had one.  He was taken by surprise but didn’t feel the need to ask why.  He assumed it would have been at an earlier age.  Of course, in reality it was finished just before I was offered the job. 

Third, my nine year old is worrying about things that he really doesn’t need to worry about as a nine year old.  Yesterday, he drew a wonderful picture of a dragon for a nine-year old.  He asked, “What should I do?  I like engineering [a reference to his joining a 4-H Robotics club], music [he takes both bass violin and guitar lessons and plays recorder well], and art [his drawings].”  He wondered how he would make a choice about college.  I realized that having an older brother already in college and a second in ninth grade who is thinking ahead about college, he has the idea that he will someday need to make a choice.  I simply assured him that it would be a long time before he would have to make a decision.  He definitely should not be required to think about such issues now.  That is a lot of stress for 18 year olds when they are making the choice.  It is a silly stress for a nine-year old who is eight years from the choice. 

But then I think back to what I wrote about the pressures of what to do after the marathon.  And even more importantly I think about the unnecessary pressures I put on myself for the marathon.  Does it really matter whether I run a sub-3:10 in the Philadelphia Marathon?  No.  Some day when I pass no one will say, “He failed to run a sub-3:10 marathon.”  And no one will say, “His life was so amazing because he did.”  Yes, it is a goal.  Yes, I have spent a long time preparing.  Yes, I would be elated to meet the goal and disappointed to fail.  But even in failure there would be life lessons.  So, the more I just let go of the stress, put my heart in the run, and do it, the better off I will be.  And in all likelihood, the higher the chance that all the effort will work to achieve the goal—rather than trying and failing.  Allowing things to “just happen” can make them much easier.

A lesson for me.

Connecting the dots forward in time, a lesson for my son some day. 

If you would like to hear my interpretation of this with some new introduction and conclusion music, please click here.  

Counting Down Some "Lasts"

I am counting down the "lasts" toward the marathon in Philly.  There are a lot of lasts.  Today was the last "track" workout, although the "track" workout was actually on a treadmill.  I have to say it was one of the most boring treadmill workouts ever.  (I realize that some people think that all treadmill workout are boring.)

Why was it extra boring?

First, the space that the hotel at which I was staying for a professional conference had a fitness center with only three treadmills in a relatively small space.  So, there weren't many other people to look at.  For more than 20 minutes of my 52 minute workout there was no one else.  Eventually there were two other people--who were walking.  The fact that there were only three led to my decision yesterday to run outside rather than inside, and I got to run along the River Walk in San Antonio--although it was dark, and, I'm sure, less spectacular than seeing it in the light.

Second, the treadmill faced a wooden wall.  Not much to look at there.  Many places--even hotels these days--have mirrors next to the treadmills.  That would have been more exciting to see.

Third, I was exercising in the pre-dawn hours.  There were wooden blinds next to the treadmill I was on.  But there was not much going on in the section of San Antonio where I was staying, at that hour.

Fourth, as you can see in the picture. I was sweating like crazy when I was done.

Did I need the workout?  Yes. It is a part of my preparation for the Philadelphia Marathon.

Did I struggle with the workout?  No.  I was able to hit 6 one-half miles in 3:00 each without feeling overly taxed.

Do I feel ready?  As ready as I'll ever be.

The transformative moment?  At some point, I will return to all of the transformation topics I mentioned last week.  But for today the transformative moment was just the realization that this is it.  This is the end.  This may be my last marathon.  It will at least be the last marathon that I give this much training time--this many miles per week.  Hopefully it will be a crowning achievement.  At the very least it will be the end of the line for a specific type of goal.

That led me to the music I listened to on the way home from San Antonio today.  I have always liked the music from Rocky.  In fact, I had the sheet music for Gonna Fly Now when I took piano lessons as a kid.   Today, I had the album on random shuffle.  The two songs that can still give me chills when I listen to them and they come to their rousing conclusions are Gonna Fly Now and The Final Bell.  I don't always get chills when I listen to them.  But I did tonight.  I know when the most amazing parts are coming.  I can anticipate them.  Yet, I still feel the chills.  The sense of triumph (although Rocky lost the fight in the first movie).  I know I have reflected on that before, but it is a recurring theme.  Not that my entire life is a triumph, but I love seeking that feeling.  The sense of accomplishment.  The sense of completion.  This is what I hope to feel as I finish the race on November 23.  And I'm sure that The Final Bell will be running through my head.

And then we will see to what I transform my energies next.  Other than finishing out the year with as many miles as possible.  I'm at 1941.5 now.  Closing in on the goal.

So many goals.  So much achievement.  What will next year bring for me, my running, my family, and my career.  I cannot say.  But I am looking forward to finding out.  Continue to persevere and continue to love.  And the rest will fall into place. 

You can find the podcast at: http://www.buzzsprout.com/34388

Lessons from a Fun 5K

So, yesterday I ran a 5K called the Heather Hurd 5K.  It is organized in remembrance of a young woman killed by a distracted driver.  The pictures of multiple individuals killed by distracted drivers on display at the race yesterday (left) is haunting.  There are many reasons car accidents happen and will continue to happen. This one can be avoided.  Maybe someday everyone will catch on.  The race and the idea of avoiding senseless death and injury in the future are part of #WhatMakesYouSoar for me yesterday

So, what else did I learn yesterday?

First, I learned that I could run about the same time as I ran last year.  I ran a 19:16 this year.  Last year I ran a 19:11.  This year, I could have run exactly the same time and I would still have gotten the 5th place overall that I did (instead of 3rd place).  The field was faster this year.  That is a great thing for the race--to attract not only more runners but better runners.   My first mile was fast (and the first mile included both a serious downhill and a serious uphill).  I lost a good bit of speed on the second mile and then regained a little on mile 3.  At the start, I was off to the side in row 3.  (The rows were not all that wide.)  I got out in the lead group that consisted of about twelve to 15 individuals.  That shook out to where I was in eighth about a half mile in.  On the climb up the hill as mile 1 ended, I ran past one guy up the hill and another guy as we topped out on the hill.  That left me in sixth heading into the second mile.  I had my eye on the two guys closest in front of me.  By the end of mile 2, I was able to catch the guy who was one in front of me.  I believe, when all was said and done, that it was more his getting tired than my acceleration, but I did set my sight on him and get him.  I had the guy who was fourth clearly in sight the whole time.  But I ended up finishing about 9 seconds behind him.  (I've gotten good at estimating as I had thought it was about 10 seconds before I saw the official results.)  The other three ahead of us were about a minute ahead of me and the winner broke 18 with no one near him.  When all was said and done, I was able to run with the idea "don't let anyone pass by me again," and there were 22 seconds between me and the nearest runner behind me.  So, it was all a good lesson.

The other part of yesterday's lesson comes from my bib number "57".  It didn't occur to me immediately when I saw my bib number, but I had used "57" indirectly with a friend recently (although it was neither a bib number nor a race time at that time).  The reference 2 Cor 5:7--a verse commonly interpreted as "walk by faith and not by sight."  How did the relate to yesterday?  Well, I tried to look at my watch as little as possible throughout the race and just run hard.  No "sight" of the pace as I went along.  Just the faith that running my hardest would be the right thing to do.  Might I have found the encouragement to push a little harder if I stared at my watch?  Perhaps.  (Especially since I ran 6:01, 6:33, 6:29 for the three full miles, maybe I could have found a way to pull just a little harder.)  But since I could see a guy ahead of me the whole time, I'm not going to put too much emphasis on seeing in this case.  It is what it is.  The race was fun.  I was first in age group and brought home a lovely medal.  I love the cause.  

Before I talk about other spiritual/numerical insights from yesterday, I do want to say that when I was running "against" a walking bunch yesterday (on the course at the same time) and the bunch was students from Harford Community College, one of them shouted out "great job, sir".  I suppose being the first one over 40 to pass them, I should simply take that as a sign of respect, but it always sounds weird to be called, "sir."

Two other numerical insights.  First, with a time of 19:16, I went looking for some inspiration there as well.  And I found it in Luke 19: 1-6.  It is the beginning of the story of Zacchaeus the tax collector.  The story is that Zacchaeus was a wealthy tax collector and short.  He wanted to see Jesus so much that he climbed a tree.  Jesus invited him down from the tree.  Zacchaeus climbed down to receive Jesus and take Jesus to his house.  It is the story of someone who wants something so much that he will make every effort to get it.  And it is about the faith that I seek to show.  As I continue to lead my life (running or otherwise), I hope to keep my faith as a guide at the center of it.  

The final insight comes from my 2000 mile goal.  With 7.1 miles yesterday (I did 2 miles of warm up and 2 miles of cool down--to the surprise of a race marshal who asked if I was going for a second run in my cool down.  I didn't tell her it was actually the "third.")

I sit at 1930.5 miles today (a rest day--giving me more time to write).  I will pass 2000 miles two weeks from today during the marathon.  My goal is to add 0.5 miles total to the remaining workouts over the next two weeks. (I run on 9 of the 13 days between now and marathon day, so this is adding only a small amount to each or even just a half mile to one.)  If I add the 0.5 miles, I will then hit 2000 miles at exactly the 20 mile point.  

That would be cool.  Why?  The 20 mile point has been my "issue" in each of the marathons I've run.  I have been able to hold pace for that long but struggled through the last 6.2 miles.  What is the name of the town I am heading for in my virtual pilgrimage?  Truth or Consequences.  What will be my truth?  What will be the consequences of making or not making it to my goal?  I will find out in the 10K that remains after I hit my 2000 mile goal.  What is the name of the church that I am running to in my virtual pilgrimage?  Our Lady of Perpetual Help.  That is such a great image for what I will be asking for in prayers when I am at the 20 mile mark--help through the rest of the race.  

Life continues to scream out for me to connect the dots in some pretty incredible ways.  And doing this continues to nourish my soul.  It gives me strength.  It gives me meaning.

I hope that readers and listeners find meaning as well.  

Seven More Miles and a Follow-up to Transformation Tuesday

Today was a very simple run.  It was raining just enough to be annoying.  So I went to the Y.  Set the treadmill for 0.5 incline and 7 MPH, and ran for an hour. 

The rest of the morning was not boring as I then rodw the commuter train between Baltimore and Washington DC and there was a gentleman who was speaking to no one in particular and not getting any feedback from anyone on the train but spoke incessantly.  If someone had chosen to take offense or wanted to pick a fight it could have gotten nasty quickly , but at 8:10 in the morning most people just want to get to where they are working so he was ignored.

Today was easy after yesterday’s day off.  Total mileage for the year is now at 1919.4.  I should have noted that on Saturday when I ran the 24 mile workout, I passed last year’s total mileage of 1867.  I am now within 80 miles of Truth or Consequences, New Mexico, on my virtual pilgrimage.  I am so close to meeting the goal.  It is amazing to realize that I will exceed it and quite handily, and I may never run that many miles in a single year again.

What I didn’t talk about this week was Tuesday.  I was thinking about having something to say on Tuesday because on Facebook several days of the week now seem to mean something.  Thursday we have “throwback Thursday”.  Many people are celebrating “transformation Tuesday.”  This seems to be particularly true for people who have taken a lot of weight off.

I don’t even have a lot of pictures from the time I was near or slightly above 180 pounds.  I’m not even sure what it would feel like to put that much weight back on at this point.  (Other than the fact that I know I would not like the way it feels.)  In any case, we have a lot of pictures of the kids from all periods. Not so many pictures of me.  So, it would be hard to show my “transformation” in a way that people could really appreciate.

With respect to physical transformation, I am reminded of a photographer back at the School of Public Health who saw me at two different shoots and commented on how I was svelte at the latter one. 

However, I can talk about a transformation that I have gone through over the past eight and a half years.  The transformation of expression.  The transformation of seeking.  The transformation of confidence.  The transformation of socializing.  So many parts of my life have been transformed by 8½ years of exercise and running. 

I suppose I don’t need to talk about all of the transformations in one day.  There is a lot of transformation that has occurred.  But let’s begin with the transformation of expression.

I have written for years.  I kept a journal in high school.  I wrote prose.  I wrote poetry.  I envisioned songs.  I mostly wrote about things that are symbolic of male teenage angst.  Who I was interested in?  Whether there was any evidence they were interested in me?  What I would do about it?   (Most often, nothing.)  I continued writing in college but not nearly as much. Although some of the songs got turned into music.  (Not that I was ever much of a musician.)

Then I went for years where most of my writing was professional.  And I went for years without running.

On January 1, 2006, I got back to exercise.  By mid-2007, I could run the half marathon distance again.  And then in 2009, I actually registered for a half marathon.  Then, since 2010, I have run at least one marathon a year.

And in 2010, I started writing again.

This time, not in journals hidden from eyes forever.  No, this time in a public journal called a blog. 

I have honed my story telling.  No, I’m not a Stephen King or Tom Clancy.  I have my own style.  I have my own voice.  I reflect my own ponderings.  I write in what is essentially a memoir format.  I sometimes ramble.  And my writing reflects a search for meaning.  But the biggest key is that the story telling has translated into mentoring.  The story telling has translated into telling people what I want to do and why.  The story telling has translated into leadership. 

The transformation is a transformation in expression.  A transformation of what I express and how and with whom I share it.  That transformation is critical to my future.  We will see where it goes. 

One new feature.  For anyone who has read my blog but not met me, here is a link to my first "audio blog". 

Center It!

Two short words that are often shouted at my son's hockey game: "Center it!"  This is in reference to what to do with the puck from the side of the net to get the best shot.  On this particular weekend, it was also what I thought about as I prepared for the 5:30 Mass at St. Pius X.  When I was praying before mass, I thought that I should center my thoughts.

And then during the homily, Fr. Sam helped me to center my thoughts even more.  Specifically, he challenged the congregation to give some thought to death.  It was All Souls Day after all.  He lamented the diminution of the importance of All Souls Day in the American Catholic Church.  He linked this with the fear or saying anything about death.  Then he commented on how death could be "beautiful" like a child dying from something that just leads to tiredness before overcoming the indivdual and the child looks angelic as she dies to horrible deaths from Ebola or starvation or war.  

It got me thinking.  I've written about death before.  Whether I would be read.  Whether I think there is anything left undone.  What I would want to happen to me after.  What I would want the music to be at a memorial service mass.  

Do I have any idea how it would actually affect or impact me?  Of course not.  But I already have some idea of what people might say.  The things that I already see as part of my legacy are things that I hope would come out.  And inspire others.  And show how I lived.  And show that having a center can be an important part of a well-lived live in which one is loved, one gives love, and one feels fulfilled.  

"Center it!"  Not just running--but on the joy of giving.  

For the record, I did run 7.1 miles this morning and now find myself at 1895 on the year.  Just 105 miles to go to reach the original destination of my pilgrimage. 

Taper and Abundance

Weekend blog entry—All Souls Day, 2014.

I could write about the 24 miles I ran yesterday and the 7:48 pace overall.  There are a few things worth mentioning but I do not want to spend a lot of time on that.  I’d prefer to spend my time talking about the start of the taper.  The taper can be a challenge for some runners as they switch from high levels of activity to lower levels while waiting for the race.  In today's entrym I will explore why I do not think I will have any problem with a lack of things to keep me occupied while I am in the taper stage.  

But let me write a few observations from the 24 mile run first.  Running at that pace put my total time at 3:07:03.  If I continued for 26.2 and allowed for the fact that my Garmin invariably say 26.3 or more at the end, it would have been on pace for a sub-3:30 marathon.  It was not intended to be at race speed.  It was, according to plan, supposed to take the same amount of time as the amount of time in the race I will run.  It did that—almost.  I’ve been thinking 3:10.  We’ll see how I perform on race day.

It has been an amazing training season.  Yesterday was my fifth run of 20 miles or more.  That is the total number of 20+ mile runs I did for my first three marathons combined.  Moreover, I ran 20 at 7:30 pace, a more difficult 20 after the weather had gotten cooler but then warmer again, a great 20 with a partner, a great 22, and then yesterday’s 24.  The 24 was nice—7:48 pace.  Just three seconds behind my planned pace.  A comfortable start.  An unplanned rest stop at 8.3 miles.  Started up again just fine.  Ran 5 laps around Lake Montebello.  That was mentally challenging.  Then climbed up Greenmount and York to get home.  The last few miles were slow.  I had a good overall pace because of the pace I ran around the Lake.  I stated focused to try to meet my ambition as I’d mentioned in a social media post on Friday after I left work.  

Lessons learned.  One—while I had some workouts go better than planned, not every workout goes as planned.  Accept it and move on.  Two—since I don’t care for the fruity gels from one company what ever made me think I’d like the fruity gels from another?  I don’t know but while I have a few fruity gels remaining I don’t use them before the marathon in Philadelphia.  Three—for a workout of 3 hours or more I probably should carb load. 

Good lessons to learn and happy to move ahead. 

So, today was the beginning of my taper.  #WhatMakesYouSoar: My answer today is an easy seven miles run a running partner to chat with and not worry about the pace.   The plan gave no particular time—run them as slow as 9:00/mile or even more slowly.  My running partner and I decided to meet in part so that each of us would be accountable and get our miles in.  I don’t usually need to have someone else to guarantee I’ll get a run in, but after running 72 miles in seven days accountability helped.  We ended up running an 8:07 pace.  It was comfortable.  It was simple.  It was not pushed.  That was despite the wind blowing pretty hard.  And it all felt right.

So what else have I learned?  My body has been trained to be incredibly resilient.  How long will it last?  I can’t say.  What I can say, however, is that I have really enjoyed this training season.  It has pushed me to limits that I didn’t know I could push through—miles per week, miles in a year, times that I have only dreamed of.  Now there is just the goal of the Philadelphia marathon during which I hope to have a friend by my side most, if not all, of the way. 

We will see how I do.  There are 59 days left in the year, and I am at 1895.4 miles.  The only question is whether I will run the last 105 before marathon day or whether I will hit the 2000 mile mark during the Philadelphia marathon. 

I may never have another race during which I shoot for a 3:10.  I may never run another 72 mile week.  I may never run another 24 mile workout.  I may never follow such a workout with a seven mile run that I do easily on the day after a 24 mile workout.

Recently I have been asking myself, what comes next?  I’ve been thinking just some easy runs for a while, then I’ll come up with an answer after that.  But that will be hard.  I haven’t run like this since I was 17.  I do not want to waste what I have achieved.  But there are so many other things in life. 

And that is what I have to sort out. 

I know I’ve got the support of family, lots of friends who like to run and run with me, and lots of life ahead of me.  I have an abundance of choices. 

How to sort out a life of abundance is a lucky “problem” to have.  Taking the idea of a life of abundance into my taper will mean that, as I pointed out at the start of this entry, I am not going to be at a loss for things to keep me occupied during the taper.