100 Miles For Sam

Last Fall, I became aware of a remarkable young man named Sam Berns.  Sam was a junior at Foxboro High School, loved Legos, loved playing drums in his high school marching band and wanted to be a scientist when he grew up.  Sam also suffered from a rare disease known as Progeria.  But to see him, the word "suffer" would never even have entered your mind - facing his fatal disease with a strength and wisdom few adults will ever know.

In the HBO Documentary Life According to Sam his first words to us all were, "I didn't put myself in front of you so you could feel bad for me; I put myself in front of you to let you know you don't have to feel bad for me."  I watched the whole documentary with my wife.  We both cried and hugged and thanked God all our children were healthy.  Afterwards, I couldn't stop thinking about how brave he was and how strong his parents (both doctors trying to find a cure) were through all of this.  And, I vowed to do something to help.

Late last week Sam died.  He was just 17 years old.

An Ice Start

The first stop on my 2014 Ultra Tour was the GAC Fat Ass 50k at Bradley Palmer State Park in Topsfield, MA.  This race was originally scheduled for Jan 4th, which just happened to coincide with winter storm “Hercules” - a greek gale that dropped a ridiculous 24 inches of snow squarely on Topsfield.  Knowing the race organizers, I’m sure they would have been happy to hold the race in those conditions, had there been any place for us to park.  However, the park ranger plows (scheduled to clear the lots) refused to intercede and the race was delayed for 7 days.

A Frost Advisory

Running Through the Woods on a Snowy Evening*

Whose woods these are, I think I know
His condo’s in the village though
He will not see me stopping here

To write my name upon the snow

My GPS must think it queer
To stop without an outhouse near
Snowshoeing along a frozen lake
The darkest evening of the year

I give my watch another shake
To see if there is some mistake
The only other sound's the bleep
Of burning lungs and heart earthquake

The woods are lovely, dark and deep
But I have training logs to keep
And miles to run before I sleep
And miles to run before I sleep

* ripped off from the great Robert Frost - and butchered beyond repair!

The Snows of Kilimanjaro

For a taste of some real writing, here's an excerpt from one of my all-time favorites.  Nobody did it better than Papa Hemingway!

"He looked at her face between him and the fire. She was leaning back in the chair and the firelight shone on her pleasantly lined face and he could see that she was sleepy. He heard the hyena make a noise just outside the range of the fire.

'I've been writing,' he said. 'But I got tired’

'Do you think you will be able to sleep?’

'Pretty sure. Why don't you turn in?'

'I like to sit here with you.’

'Do you feel anything strange?' he asked her.

'No. Just a little sleepy.'

'I do,' he said.

He had just felt death come by again.

'You know the only thing I've never lost is curiosity’ he said to her.

'You've never lost anything. You're the most complete man I've ever known.'

'Christ’ he said. 'How little a woman knows. What is that? Your intuition?'

Because, just then, death had come and rested it’s head on the foot of the cot and he could smell its breath.

Back and Forth

I started 2013 off with the rather ambitious goal of setting road PR’s for every distance from the mile to the marathon. However, an early and persistent calf injury kept me from being able to get the quality speed work I needed, so I decided to change course (literally) and do more trail races and mountain runs. Fortunately for me, it turned out to be one of the best and most enjoyable years of running that I’ve ever had!

Here are a few of the highlights from this past year:

Ran a total of 3018 Miles – my second highest ever.
Completed 19 races – 9 road, 6 trail and 4 mountain.
Ran a Course PR at the Boston Prep 16m.
Did my first ever Century (100 mile bike) ride.
Had a great 7 Sisters – Probably my best race of the year.
Ran a gravity-aided 17:33 5k PR* at the Hollis Fast 5k.
Had my first ever 90 & 100 miles training weeks.
Ran a Course PR at the Bear Brook Trail Marathon.
Completed 7 WMAC Grand Tree Series races.
Finished 12th overall and 4th in my AG for the GT.
Ran/Hiked all 48 of New Hampshire’s 4000 foot peaks.
Qualified for Boston again – with 14 1/2 minutes to spare.
Helped guide GCS to our 6th straight Mill Cities Championship.

As outlined here, I hope that 2014 will be the “Year of the Ultra” as I try to complete my first ever 100 mile race - in late October. So, pretty much everything I do this year will be working towards achieving that goal. Interspersed amongst the Ultras, will be some of the Gate City Strider club races in both the New England and New Hampshire grand prix series.

As always, I expect that there will be a few bumps along that road, but hopefully I’ll be able to handle them with quiet dignity and grace. If not, I hope at least to make it seem that way. :)

Cheers and Happy New Year!

Hitting The Wall

In the sport of marathon running, the term “Hitting the Wall” refers to a point in the 26.2 mile race where a runner suffers from a depletion of glycogen stores in the muscles, resulting in a sudden loss of energy and an overwhelming feeling of fatigue.  I have run dozens of marathons over the years and have had this happen to me nearly every time.  Recently though, it feels like I’ve hit a very different wall.  It feels to me now, like I’m hitting the wall of life.


In marathon racing (and training) “The Wall” is very real and comes almost without any discernable warning.  One minute you’re clicking off the miles with relative ease, and the next, you’re barely walking.  And so it has been lately with me in my life outside of running.  Things have been going along relatively smoothly these past few years, and now for some reason it seems like I can’t get out of my own way.  I feel like my energy has been zapped and I’m staggering to the finish line.

The Darkest Day

December 21st, five years ago today
The earth did have its darkest day
The winter solstice marked the time
A brightest light was snuffed away

The jumbo jet fell from the sky
While ornaments were hung on high
Innocent victim of a terrorist act
A senseless cause for one to die

Family and friends could not believe
This joyous season now one to grieve
The trip abroad with much to share
Memories lost we'd not retrieve

Stoic and strong we had to try
But played the songs with teary eye
Classmates and some not seen in years
Gathered together to say goodbye

Goodbye to one so young of age
A too our youth we turned the page
Saddened so that each had passed
A sense of loss combined with rage

Though solstice has the longest night
Day with scarce amount of light
It also brings a ray of hope
That those to come will be more bright

And if an answer's to be sought
For this wicked evil wrought
Give your love to friends each day
That’s the greatest lesson taught

Steve

Written in 1993 and dedicated to my friend Steven Boland who was killed  in the bombing of Pan Am Flight 103 over Lockerbie, Scotland on December 21st, 1988. 


If you liked this poem, I have a few more over here.

A Goat of a Different Color

Quack!

1996, The New England branch of USA Track & Field started a challenging race

series called the “Mountain Circuit”. The brain-child of legendary mountain man Dave Dunham, the circuit initially consisted of three all uphill mountain races: Wachusett, Kearsage and Pack Monadnock. All 3 races were run primarily on paved summit roads and varied in distance from 4.3 to 10 miles. Over the years new races were added such as: Ascutney, Northfield, Cranmore & Loon. And some were taken away, such as: Kearsage & eventaully Northfield. Some of the newer races featured courses run on hiking/skiing trails and a few of them added the extra challenge of having to run back down the mountain! In 2006, I finished the entire circuit (plus Mount Washington) and wrote about my experiences HERE.

This year, the USATF-NE Mountain Circuit consisted of 6 races: Sleepy Hollow, Wachusett, Bretton Woods, Ascutney, Loon & Cranmore. And had a good mix of: road, trail, all up, up/down & down/up. Pretty much all you could ask for. Also, any runner who completed all 6 races received a coveted Mountain Circuit T-Shirt, a By-Pass to the 2014 Mount Washington Lottery and the all-important designation of “Mountain Goat”.

A Half Life

Ever since I was I child, I always thought that 90 years old would be a fine age to live to. Somehow 100 seemed like far too much to ask for, and 80 seemed like far too little.  At the time, and for whatever reason, 90 seemed just right. This Sunday I turn 45 years old and can hardly believe that I’m halfway there!

Looking back, I have to admit I’ve had a pretty good life so far.  Sure, I’ve had my share of heartbreaks, mistakes and abject failures.  Who hasn’t?  But I’m healthy, I’m married and I have 4 great kids.  I even have a dog, a house, and a white picket fence. Who could ask for more?

Sure, in my weaker moments I have done just that - asked for more.  But, then those moments pass and I realize how foolish I am to consider myself anything but truly blessed to have the  life I've been given.  In fact, I think if I could have 45 more years of the same stuff, I’d definitely take it.  No questions asked!

The only problem I’m having right now is the perceived acceleration of time relative to age. As a child, the gap between birthdays, Christmas, etc. felt interminably long.  Now, it comes and goes in a blink.  It seems like just yesterday I was lamenting the sands of summer slipping through my fingers.  Now November's nearly gone!  I simply cannot abide by this rapid reduction of my remaining days.

Therefore, starting on Sunday, November 17th (the occasion of my 45th year on this earth) I will endeavor to reverse the river’s flow by counting my birthdays back down to zero. Should I live beyond my established goal age of 90, then so be it.  I’m sure a pre-conception twinkle will be worth much more than a decade of today’s warped chronographic currency!

Anyway, that’s a story for another day.  In the meantime, here’s a fun look back on how much I’ve changed in my 45 years.  And, here’s to hoping for 45 more - just like the last!

Long Range Plans

I think it's safe to say that I’m less goal oriented than I am goal obsessed.

It’s now been almost 2 full weeks since Baystate (my last goal race for 2013) and I’m already chomping at the bit for a new set of challenges.  I don’t know about you, but I find that if I don’t have something to work towards, I end up just going through the motions without any real purpose.  And, while I do realize that it’s all part of the recovery process, I find it wholly unsatisfying.

And so, as this year comes to an end, I’m starting to plan out what I hope to be working towards for next year.  Building off of the success I had at last year’s Stonecat 50, and the fun I had during this year’s Summer of 48, I’m going to spend 2014 primarily focusing on Ultra-Marathon races and seeing just how far I can push myself and the limits of what I think I can do.  Long story short, it’s shaping up to be a VERY interesting year!

Below is a preliminary list of the races that I’m eying for next year, with a brief description of each.

Iowa

There’s nothing quite like the smell of manure in the morning.  It’s more effective than coffee at waking you from your slumber and nearly twice as strong!

These are some of the semi-lucid thoughts that bounce around my brain during a solo run down a country road in the middle of July.  It’s only 6:30am but the humidity is rising faster than the sun and adding to the acridity of my bovine bouquet.  As I near the farm house where the scent is originating, I catch a glimpse of the putrid perpetrators.  In their pen, a dozen cows stand motionless - save for the slow but synchronized turning of their heads as I run by.  The quizzical looks on their cowy faces only serve to reinforce the growing sense that I’m a stranger in a strange land.

Baystate

My goal for this year’s Baystate Marathon was simple.  Finish in less than 3 hours.  That’s it!  One last shot for me to break this ever elusive time barrier before diving headlong into Ultras.  Unfortunately, as the year played itself out, it turned out to be one goal too many.