Life Lessons in a Course Preview

I have run the GBMC Father's Day race either 4 or 5 times now.  It benefits the NICU at the medical center.  Once, I ran it with all three of my sons.  The youngest took great joy in coming in ahead of the oldest.  For the first several years I ran it, the race was in Hunt Valley on a relatively flat course.  For the last two years, the course was much hillier--going from the medical center campus out to Osler, through Rogers Force (hilly!), and back onto the campus.  Two different ways.  Two different courses.  Driven by construction.

So, I have registered myself for the race.  I will register my two younger kids for the race.  And I will run as part of a team with my adopted daughter for the day as I did a year ago.  She is just young enough to be my daughter and I serve as a training partner, mentor, and friend.  We had the good fortune of taking the Father-Daughter competition last year.

With this year's website, it was unclear how the course would be structured.  So I wrote to Charm City Run's race management arm and asked.  And pleasantly to my surprise, less than four hours later when I got off the plan last night, I found the course description.  It is a bit of a hybrid between the two courses of the last two years.  It looks like it won't be short as it was two years ago but we won't have to double back as we did last year.

Still hilly.

This morning, for my workout, I decided to preview much of the course.  I've run most of it dozens of times over the last nine years.  But I hadn't run it in a while and I wanted to remind myself.

I've mentioned several times that the course is hilly.  Up Osler in the first mile.  Up at the end of the race.  Up Stevenson after coming off a nice downhill on Stanmore.  Up Bellona to Charles before beginning the nice descent.  All of those are notable.

But in my mind, the hardest part of the course is when I finish running up the long-slow hill on Osler, turn the corner onto Steven, and have to continue to climb toward Stanmore.  I just thought as I previewed that this morning about all the times in lie when I have turned a corner hoping for something better, something easier, and found instead that the road ahead was actually harder for some time.

That is the point in the race at which each runner will have to decide one of two things--either "this is a hard course and I might as well coast the rest of the way" or "I'm taking this head on and working even harder."  This morning, I took the first path.  I'd run an 8:30ish first mile.  then surprised myself by coming down under 7:50.  Then under 7:40 as I ran down Towsontown.  Then, climbing Osler and around back up over 7:40.  Then, for the run down Stanmore, up Stevenson, and up Bellona toward Charles, I ran 7:14.  Then, I eased up for one mile and took it back down to a sub-8 to finish.

The key was that I ended up with a slightly slower time in mile 4.  But I didn't give in.  Even on a workout a morning after returning from Texas and running by myself and thinking "the course is testing me rather than me testing the course," I ran one of my strongest workout performances in a while and could say, when all was said and done, that I had tested the course.  I'd like to do it a few more times before the race--just to make absolutely sure I know how it feels.  And I can say with certainty that I know how the race can feel if I just take it in stride and work on it.

The lesson for life is to do the same with any other task for which I end up on a similar topographical trajectory.

And to share with others the joy of the sense of accomplishment that one can get when achieving that goal.

A Message from a Bird

Yesterday, when I was waiting for Joshua to be done his day of volunteering at the zoo, I was sitting in my car reading a news magazine and I had what I thought of as an odd experience.  A small bird looking very bewildered flew in through my car window and landed on the dashboard up against the windshield.  I was at least as surprised as the bird was.  I opened all the windows and stepped out of the car.  The bird managed to get across the dashboard and out the front passenger window.

When I posted this on social media, one aunt pointed out that it is a gift to be visited by another member of God's creation.  And one of my dear long distance running friends (she runs ultra-marathons while I stick with nothing longer than a marathon) and fellow blogger said it was a sign or message.  I had to ponder what that message would be.

I think after today's 5K race, I have an idea of what the message might be.  The day was a picture perfect morning for a 5K at 7:30 AM.  Although as I and several people I spoke with afterward noted, for runners who arrived early to register on the day of the race, arrival at sunrise when it was still cool could easily mask the fact that on Key Highway with the sun shining down, even if the air temperature is only in the 60's, it is hot to run.  

The race, I ran in an official time of just under 20:55.  Not bad for a 45 year old, by all means.  But it was one of my slowest in a long, long time.  In fact, last year after having the GI week from hell before Father's Day and running longer than I should have when looking for a good time on the day before the race, I ran about the same time on a much hillier course.  So, something is up with me.  In fact, one of my running buddies said he had never seen look so miserable during a run before.  

So, how does this story relate back to the message from the bird?  The bird did not just sit on the dashboard helpless.  He found a way to get himself going again.  He found a way to set himself right again.  And he flew on.

So, after nine years of running off and on and 5 years of running almost constantly and four years of almost always improving times, I am at a spot at which it is clear that I have to choose carefully how much to run.  Life is ever more full of other things.  

I have to choose carefully what workouts to do.  I have been mostly accompanying friends at paces and distances of their choosing while being along for the ride rather than having a plan for myself.

Have I enjoyed that type of running--making it up as I go and just being there as a presence for others?  You bet.  But it doesn't help me race.  And if I want racing for my own times to be part of my continued running experience, then I need to be like the bird.  Get myself going again.  Right myself.  And focus on running ahead.

The biggest question is what role I want racing to play.  I have been quite happy with accompanying others.  I have told one person that the Marine Corps Marathon is still on my bucket list and if she would like to try a second time, I'd be interested in running with her.  I've told another runner that if she just wants company for a race, I'd be happy to do that at least once.  I have a "running debt" to pay forward from someone who helped me to achieve a wonderful time last year.  And I just love helping others achieve anyway.  

Those are fine reasons to run.  But it is not like saying, "I'm going back to Boston because I can and I'm hoping to run harder this time."  That would be my own goal.  And for that, I really would need to follow what the little bird did.

We shall see.

There are lessons in life to be learned at every turn.  A little hiccup in life didn't stop the bird.  One bad race and a couple of less than perfect weeks of training should not stop me.   

As I recently saw Michael Jordan pointing out in a video--he missed lots of shots.  He even missed chances to win games.  But that was on the way to making lots of spectacular shots and game winning ones.  Less than perfect races happen once I run enough races.  Now, it's time to see what I can do if I keep on pushing even though I know every one can't possibly be my best.  I told a friend how great it was that she could do that. Now, I have to prove that I can do it myself.  

Running's Meaning Now and How it Reflects on Life

Seeing friends who are running Boston tomorrow posting about what it took to get there but feeling that they wont' do as well tomorrow as they did when they qualified, makes me think of the running lessons I've learned in the past week and how they fit into life in general.

Past eight days of running:

Saturday April 11--fantastic intervals on the roads with four easy halves surrounding three hard miles that averaged 6:20 (alone)

Sunday April 12--A progression for the ages averaging 7:15 over 8 miles on the roads (alone)

Monday--off

Tuesday April 14 --tempo with my long time friend and running partner, Lauren, averaging 8:06 over 7 miles downtown

Wednesday--easy 3.1 alone

Thursday--easy 2.1 alone

Friday--easy 5 along

Saturday--10 at 8:02 on relatively flat trail with even longer-time running partner and friend, Joselyn

Today--warm up just short of a mile followed by a 5K in 20:05

A year ago I would have been annoyed not to break 20.  A year ago I trained for three things: breaking 19 in a 5K (which I only ever did on a treadmill), going sub-2:30 in a 20 mile race on Labor Day weekend (which I did by only seconds), and going sub-3:10 in a marathon (which I did by 11 seconds).  The big picture was important but in each season (spring, summer, and fall) the big picture all led to a single day.

With no overarching goals for the year, I don't have a goal that every run is leading up to.  So, I am more truly looking at the bigger picture.  Having two great workouts last weekend--wonderful!  Tight muscles the rest of Sunday and Monday--of course.  Fun 7 miler with a friend who is preparing for a marathon--great to be able to provide support.  Three easy days--just what I needed.  Crazy to run a 10 miler (even at a pace a minute per mile slower than my best) the day before a 5K, probably.  But I enjoyed the run with my friend and got to share something I'd baked.  The fact that the 20:05 was a little slower than hoped for?  Not a problem.  The course included grass and multiple hills.  I got to see family.  I got to see an old colleague.  And I still placed in a way that got me an award.  So, the one race didn't yield exactly the time I would've liked (sub-20) but the sum total of my running for the last eight days can't be beat.

And the sum total of my life this weekend was just amazing.  Baking on Saturday morning before the run on Saturday.  The run.  Taking my 15 year old to the zoo for volunteering.  A stop at Dunkin Donuts.  A stop at Whole Foods.  Coming home, cleaning up, and cooking the bacon from Whole Foods as well as chopping the tomato and onion I'd bought.  Going to my son's lacrosse game.  Coming home and making lunch sandwiches of bagels, salmon, bacon, tomato, onion, and cream cheese.  Going to the JHU lacrosse game.  Picking up the son at the zoo.  Coming home and having a dinner that included steak, some of the cornbread I'd baked, and a tomato salad with balsamic vinegar.  Then going to see an inter-art production at the Baltimore School for the Arts.  Home.  Sleep.  Going to the 5K.  Coming home and taking the youngest to ice hockey try outs or the fall.  Coming home and showering.  Fixing lunch and taking my middle one to boy choir.  Groceries and a compliment for my tattoo.  A quick catnap.  Then on to the boy choir concert.  One of the best ever.  Joshua had a great solo in Ride the Chariot.   The whole concert choir did a wonderful job in Give Me Jesus--not used to hearing it in boy choir (hear it in church) but loved the arrangement.  Reminder that if I base everyone on what I believe (love of others is a guiding principle) then the rest will fall into place.  Then two more.  Three great handbell songs.  Really enjoyed Fantasy on Hyfrydol.  The young men's choir (which my son does not sing in) did four wonderful songs and I got chills up my spine as they sang "Do You Hear the People Sing?" from Les Mis.  What a great song for older boys--singing about looking forward to freedom.  The closing songs from the combined choirs were cool.  I'm hoping that one day they bring back "Never Failed Me Yet."

Then, dropped off son at youth group at church. Came home to pizza that had been completed by my 10 year old.  I started the dough.  He did everything else including making an Old Bay crust.

What a fantastic weekend of time with kids, time watching kids, time with Sherry, time baking, time making meals, and time running.  The key is always to look at the whole and to appreciate the amazing whole that I have.  

In Pursuit of Excellence

The last time I wrote was after my easy 4 miles on Wednesday.  Today, is Friday.  It is unusual to have a Friday to rest but I do.  I will have one last run tomorrow before the 5K race on Sunday for which I have been training diligently.  The person who helped me develop a training plan says I've done all the right things to achieve my goal.  Now the key is to remind myself of that goal and to visualize.  So what is the goal: 18:59 or better.  Other than the GBMC 5K last year that was short by everyone's GPS watch and for which I didn't feel like I had run a sub-19), I have not run a 5K at a sub-19 pace since I was a teenager.  In fact, probably since 1986.  Ronald Reagan was president.  I had not graduated from high school.  I was probably watching the Cosby Show, Cheers, Night Court, and Family Ties.  It's been a long time.

Yesterday, I ran 3x2x200. Short workout.  Intended for the track.  But there was lightning when it was time to go.  I do track workouts alone.  I do track workouts in the rain.  I've even been known to do one or two alone and in the rain.  But I don't do them alone and in the rain when there is thunder and lightning.  So, I did it on the treadmill.  It is not often that I set the treadmill for 10.8 MPH, 11.3 MPH, and 11.8 MPH--even for 1/8 of a mile.  And I don't expect to hit those paces during the race except for the very end.  If I can run my 6:06 first mile (a little net down) and come through with a 6:06 second mile (pretty flat), then run a 3-ish 800 M, all I will have left is 0.6 miles.  And at that point, anything goes.  And when I have 0.1 miles left, I will dig deep and give the race everything I have.  If all goes well, I'll be able to find it in me to kick like I was running at the end yesterday and set a new grown up PR--and hit my sub-19.

That is my pursuit of running excellence.  My run yesterday put me up to 828.4 miles which puts me coming off the Madison County Transit Nature Trail in Granite City, IL, getting ready to run counterclockwise around the Horseshoe Lake.  The Catholic church in this city is called Holy Family, and that is neat because I want to talk about a few things having to do with family today.

Wednesday we had the Johns Hopkins Carey Business School's commencement ceremony.  I read all the names.  We finished in record time.  It was a great event.  It was a wonderful opportunity to celebrate the pursuit of excellence with family.  It was also reflective of pursuit of excellence within the "family" of Carey employees.  We made that ceremony come off as seamlessly as possible and the teamwork aspect was great. 

Wednesday evening, I went to the last 3rd grade parent-teacher evening I will ever attend at the Waldorf School of Baltimore.  We talked about 3d grade highlights and a bit of a 4th grade preview.  And we painted wet on wet.  My appreciation for art has increased since I got my tattoo. My appreciation for the hard work to produce good art has increased even more since I got my tattoo.  When I get my picture, I will have to show it.  (It is not cery good)   Wet on wet painting is one thing that requires patience and control to pursue excellence.  Done often enough one learns how to work with the flowing colors rather than be frustrated by it.  It is kind of like running.  Painful/difficult at first, perhaps.  But after doing it enough times it becomes second nature.  One learns how to work with one's body and the random things that occur around it in the pursuit of excellence for running.  The experience made me slow down and breathe deep, so that was also very relaxing at the end of a long day.

We talked about geography as a unit in fourth grade.  The teacher mentioned that some adults don't have much of a sense of direction.  One of the joys of running alone or designing courses to run with one or two friends has been an incredibly more developed sense of direction about the roads on the runs that I do.  I would not call it a pursuit of excellence for me, but it is definitely part of my development of excellence. And for the kids, it may clearly be a pursuit.

Finally, in terms of family and pursuit of excellence, I attended the Baltimore School for the Arts senior honors recital last night.  Seven young adults getting ready to move on to study music in college who were able to develop a 15 minute repertoire of music to perform in two parts.  Amazing.  Pursuit of excellence celebrated with family and facilitated by family.  It will be fun to see where these kids (including my oldest son and his girlfriend of three years) go.  

A 19:10 5K Translated into a Bible Verse--Ecclesiastes 1:9-10

So, my last entry of something truly new was the entry regarding self-actualization where I talked about playing my bass versus running and academics and teaching Sunday school, etc. 

What is interesting is that at my recent 5K (on November 9), I ran a 19:10.  I had not run that fast since high school.  Great.  I had not yet taken the time to write about it in terms of a Bible verse.  What I stumbled on was Ecclesiastes, chapter 1, verses 9 and 10.  Here is the text from the US Conference of Catholic Bishops website:

What has been, that will be; what has been done, that will be done. Nothing is new under the sun!
Even the thing of which we say, “See, this is new!” has already existed in the ages that preceded us.

This seemed like a particularly apt set of verses given my recent thinking about self-actualization.  "What has been, that will be" and "what has been done, that will be done."  I am making choices that are similar (practically identical) to choices I made 27 years ago.  Even the statement "Nothing is new under the sun!"  I have always been a person who tries to cram in too much.  Who tries to make myself too busy.  Who does not focus.  I am learning now to get focused.  I am learning to be more careful with what I commit to.  Am I perfect?  No way.  But with my new job, eight months in, I am definitely moving in the right direction.

I'm not even sure I would say "See, this is new!"  The choice existed before.  And I will probably face another choice some time in the future in which I have to think about how to cut some things short and focus on others.  

What was also interesting in this situation, was that I ended up sharing this situation with my oldest son's girlfriend.  She asked me what had brought me to the electric bass.  I shared with her the story.  Learned a little guitar when Christopher started.  Never got all that good.  Wanted to do something along with Christopher when he started in the worship band at church.  Couldn't keep up on guitar.  They needed a bass player.  And the rest was history.

But I also shared with her that I had to make a conscious choice that involved giving it up.  And that this was the second time in my life that I gave up something musical.  And that gave me a chance to excel at the other things on which I chose to focus.  

In contrast, she and my son had chosen music at every opportunity.  And it has taken them and hopefully will continue to take them far.

God gives us choices.  We have free will.  We have to make the choices to give God glory.  I feel I am making the right ones.  It is amazing how I have to learn and relearn the same lessons.  But it gives me hope that I can share with others.  Maybe I'm not the only one who looks at a verse likes this and reflects on how many times I have had to relearn the same things.  What that says about me.  And how I will take that reflection into the future.  

Each Time is Special

A friend of mine suggested that I follow a blog from another local runner.  The blog can be found at http://sowhatirun.com/. It is the story of someone much newer to running than I am.  The author of the blog did not run as a teenager.  In fact, the author of the blog did not run a race until the local Celtic Solstice run in 2011 and has run only one marathon so far.  And this is her first blog about running.

Reading blogs from experienced runners is fun.  There are plenty of insights and it is sort of like soldiers sharing war stories.

However, I have been fascinated by the early insights that someone has.  The entire set of ideas that comes up when a person is new to running is different.  The questions.  The concerns.  The issues.  The worries.

It reminds me how special each run is.  Each time I lace up the shoes and get ready to go out, I get a thrill from the preparation and the running.  Each race I prepare for is meaningful in terms of all the thinking and all the preparation.  Each time I line up at the start of a race--even a local 5K--I still get butterflies.  And each time I finish--a workout or a race--I can say that I have done it just because I can.

I will elaborate on the "because I can" theme in a later blog entry.  For right now, I would just comment on sharing the feeling of, "So What?  I Run" with the other blog's author.  It is fun.  It is a part of me.  I like to share elements of it with others--regardless of whether they run or not.  But it doesn't make me any more special than anyone else.  It just makes me feel more me.  Like the best me I can be.  And I love that feeling.

And for anyone who reads my blog to find out about running (or life), I would suggest you check out So What?  I Run.  

Lesson Learned

This is a long entry.  Sort of like a race report, but I didn't race yesterday.  At least not against anyone.  I did, however, race against all the ghosts of runs past that turned out not quite as strong as I'd expected.  

So, at least since I first trained with John Shafer at Charm City Run for the Maryland Half Marathon in 2011, people have been telling me in different forums to try to run constant or negative splits for long races.  And for all that time, I have gotten out to starts that were too quick then faded at the end.  Yesterday changed that.  Now I can say the lesson has been learned.  Experiential learning is great. Experiential learning is one reason my wife and I send our kids to the school that we do.  Now, I, too, have experienced it in a big way.

So, here is a link to the run.  This was done five weeks and two days before Boston.  My friend (and, more importantly to this conversation,  running mentor) and I had been discussing how I could get in a really strong race before Boston.  The DC Rock n Roll Marathon and Half Marathon are next weekend, but I did not have a strong desire to try to get into a race in DC.  The B&A is also next weekend, but by the tie we actually looked into it the half had already filled up.  It always fills up early.  So, a few weeks back we picked a Saturday and planned to meet on the NCR trail just to see what I could do.

Yesterday was great as my 8 year old's hockey season was over so I didn't have to be done too early.  It was the last day before daylight savings time so the sun was up.  

As the day approached, we changed our plans a little bit.  My friend's last two track workouts at which we crossed paths were not bad, but she was not 100%.  So, we had talked about instead of trying to get me to break the 7:00/mile average barrier or even shoot for a 1:30, just going out and running my marathon race pace (7:20/mile) as a good, long tempo run.  That was what we planned to start and after we finally met, and jogged a little to warm up and had one final bathroom stop, we set off.

We started right at mile marker 1 so that we wouldn't have to rely on the Garmin too much for distance. We ran and chatted quite a bit and when we passed the 2 mile marker looked at our watches and realized we were running just over 7:00, in fact 7:05.  That surprised as it didn't feel that fast.  For the second mile, we ran 7:12 which was closer to the pace we had discussed for the day, but still a bit quick.  We were feeling good and brought the third mile back down to 7:04.  It was then that it was clear that we woud not likely be slowing down to 7:20 for the rest of the run.

Miles 4 and 5 we ran at 7:00 and 7:03.  Still feeling good.  My friend, clearly feeling better than she had recently and me simply enjoying the great temps, nice sun, and lack of need for nutrition or water as I was going along.  Mile 6 led us up to mile marker 7 just shy of the building at Monkton (running 6:59 for mile 6), and I said that we should go just a little further (to 6.05 miles from where we had started according to my Garmin) so that we could get the full 13.1.  I was feeling good and thinking that while we were still running above 7:00 average 6 miles in we could do something that would be a PR for me.

Turn arounds on straight trails are always slow.  So, we made the turn around and headed south.   Mile 7 was run at 6:55.  At that point an entire mix of emotions and ideas was running through my head as I realized once again the grace of God and the joy of running.  The song "Time for Me to Fly" (old REO Speedwagon but a totally different context from long distance running) popped into my head.  My other running friend who is now dealing with a femur stress fracture who had asked me to run strong on her behalf popped into my head.  Having a good friend by my side was much appreciated.  

Mile 8 was the game changer.  That was run in 6:47 and we finally had our average down to 7:00.  Five miles to go.  Feeling really strong.  Checked to make sure that my running partner was feeling okay and planned to hold pace.  Ran mile 9 in 6:52 and mile 10 in 6:54.  At that point, I had achieved a sub-70 minute 10 miler.   One of these days I want to achieve that in a race.  Last three miles were run at 6:45, 6:41, and 6:39 holding the final 0.1 of a mile.  So, I had managed a better first 10 miles than the B-10 last year and a better last 5K than the GBMC Father's Day race the next day. 

It was an amazing day.  It was a day of learning self-control--not to go out too fast--and believing in myself--that whatever I set out to do I can and sometimes I just have to believe that I can go.  It was a day to learn that starting with self control leaves me strong to finish.  It was too bad not to do this in a race, but I may actually perform worse in a race.  There was no pressure and no strings attached yesterday.  Just out for an incredible run with a friend and mentor.  The day was full of meaning.  I look for meaning in each run and usually I find it.  Many lessons about not taking things too fast in life in general as well.