Good news, bad news

The good news: I have a job; this job, however, is temporary.  I’ve been on the job 3 weeks and it will last until Thanksgiving.  It also involves a lot of travel, which for me is fun, especially because it’s for a good organization.

The bad news: because of my travel schedule and interrupted training plan, I will not be able to do the Portland Marathon.

I took the job knowing this would be the likely outcome, grateful that I had any job.  I’m still running, but nowhere near the distances that I should be doing for next month’s race.

Bummer.  But there are many more races out there to do…

It’s Official

I registered for the 2010 Portland Marathon on October 10th.  Stay tuned for a potential race the weekend before!

Rock ‘n Roll 2010

Even though the lack of time, energy and money restricts the number of races I can run, I’m still out there running.  This past Saturday, June 26th, I finished the 2010 Seattle Rock ‘n Roll Half Marathon along with more than 25,000 other runners, who participated in both a half and full marathon.  My training dropped off the previous two weeks, but I still made it across the finish line with minimal soreness the following morning.

My goal was to finish, having fun along the way.  Goal achieved. I ran with a friend, enjoyed the sights and sounds of the course.  About mile 8 or 9 I started to feel tight and queasy, but that was minor and easily pushed through because I’ve endured worse feelings during marathons.  As always, it was fun to run by entertainment on the course and be supported by cheering spectators.

Time for this 13.1 mile race: 2:23:59

This pace, slightly under 11 min/mile, is typical of the split for the first half of my marathon pace.  In fact, I ran a 2:23:18 the first half of the Portland Marathon in October 2009.  As I wrote in my race summary, I pulled a negative split, meaning the second half of that marathon was run faster than the first half.  The second half split was 2:06:11– which happens to be my fastest half marathon thus far. Proudly, I pulled a faster 13.1 miles after I’d already run 13.1, the week after I ran a a full 26.2 miles.

I think I’ll add to my list of goals a sub 2 hour half marathon…

Circumstances beyond my control…

…have unfortunately dictated my marathon schedule this year.  I had plans for more races and more posting this year, but that has not happened.  Instead of the next race or adventure, all I have are dreams.  Honestly, I’m not sure anyone checks this blog anymore, but I’m going to write this update anyway.

Due to my prolonged unemployment and mad search for job, marathoning and charity fundraising have been put on hold. While I will save money in order to pay for the entry fee, alas with no income I cannot afford to do anything more than run free on the streets of Seattle.  A long time ago, however, I did sign up for the Seattle Rock’n'Roll Half Marathon once again. So at least I’ve got something to work toward.

Maybe I’ll be able to catch the fall marathon calendar…

Race Report: Portland Marathon (Oct. 4th, 2009)

Believe it or not, the Bellingham marathon was more challenging physically than the Portland.  With the Portland Marathon the following week, I was moving into uncharted territory for me.  I had questions of how long my body would hold up and how I’d tackle the mental challenge of covering the 26.2 mile distance again.  The second race in seven days was mostly a mental challenge—and I rose to the occasion.

Early in the race, I held back, hitting a pace of about 11 min. per mile ( I hit the first mile at exactly 11 min. by my watch).  This comfortable pace was easy to maintain for at least 8 miles.  These early miles I was able to smile and nod to bystanders who cheered from the sidelines.

At the half (13.1 miles) I was on target for a 4hr 45min finish, although in the marathoning world, an even or negative split for the two halves is a difficult task.  But something inside of me turned on.  I sped up, left the pace group behind and never looked back.  I sailed through the downhill between miles 21 and 23, a place where I passed many people.  All the while, I kept repeating a mantra:  Hope. Strength.Determination. Courage.

The last 6 miles are tough physically and mentally, for anyone running a marathon.  I had to keep going, and my body was holding on.  I increased my pace from 11 min. per mile to under 10:30 min per mile, and even going to under 10 min. miles.  Hope. Strength. Determination. Courage.  Follow it all the way to the end.

Without that mantra, I don’t know how I would have finished so strong.  Around mile 18 or 19 I knew my body was breaking down, and I had little energy outside of what it took to keep the body moving.  By mile 23, I knew I had achieved my goal and that if I kept moving, I’d get a PR.  By mile 25 (with 1.2 more to go) I realized that I could exceed a PR to achieve a time I hadn’t even thought I’d reach—to beat 4 hr. 30 min.

I did it.  What a sweet sight, as I rounded the corner to see the finish line!  My stomach churning, lungs near capacity, and worn body I dashed for the finish.  I crossed the line for a time of 4:29:29!  I was too tired to cry in celebration of an accomplishment, so I received my finisher’s medal, wobbled my way toward the food and promptly stuffed my face with bananas, oranges, apples, cookies, water, and anything else lying around.

For those who question the impact on my body, I have only this to say: the right tendon in my knee is taking its time to heal, but that has not limited my mobility.  But other than that, I could have gone running on Wednesday, just 3 days after Portland, as the soreness had mostly vanished, and a light and easy run would have done well to loosen me.  The knee is healing, and I expect to run again soon.

For me, Neurofibromatosis pushes down on me–and so I push back.  And I am determined to continue pushing.  While many of those I speak with cannot see themselves running a marathon, what I see here is an opportunity to use this mantra: Hope. Strength. Determination. Courage. And let it take you where you never thought was possible.  It need not be to the extreme, whatever you can do.

Where will you go?  Hope. Strength. Determination. Courage.  Follow it all the way to the end.

I did it!

at the finish line

What an amazing adventure this has been.  Not only did I complete the Portland Marathon, thus reaching my goal of 2 marathons in back to back weekends, but I also had the best marathon of my life so far!  This post is but a brief update that I indeed achieved my goal and am recovering well.  My journey to this point has been long, time-consuming, and oh so much fun.  Stay tuned for continued updates, stories from the races, and thoughts about future races.

Briefly, before I describe the event, here is the breakdown:

Time span: 7 days (September 27th – October 4th)
Miles run: 52.4 (2 marathons at 26.2 miles each)
Where traveled: Bellingham, WA and Portland, OR
Finish Times: Bellingham = 4.hr 49min. 01sec. / Portland = 4hr. 29min. 29sec.

Race Report: Bellingham Bay Marathon

olympic mountain sunset

I am happy to report that I successfully achieved my goal to finish the Bellingham Bay Marathon and now two days later, I am well on my way to recovery (26.2 miles down, 26.2 to go!).  Briefly, it was a beautiful day, a challenging run, and strong finish.  The photo to the left is the remaining glow of the sunset behind the Olympic Mountains leaving Seattle.  Amazing autumn weather!

The morning came quickly, and I awoke well-rested and ready.  With the sun rising in a mostly clear sky, the race began as more than one thousand runners filled the streets of Bellingham.

This marathon presented a unique challenge to me.  I’m a tough competitor with my self, and although I say my goal was to finish, I knew I would be pushing myself.  The challenge then, is to push hard without injury and to leave enough for the next marathon in a week.

Early on, I felt pain in my rear, a minor pinching pain more annoying than hurtful.  It was frustrating to feel pain so early in the race, knowing I’d have to endure it for many miles.  Indeed, as the miles added up, so the pain increased.  Periodic pain in both knees, lower back, and butt would trade off leaving one or more parts of the body in pain for nearly half the race.  As in previous marathons, the pain had its cycles.  I tell myself to move through it, and it will pass.  Somewhere in the latter miles, I think mile 23 there were signs with words I know, but really needed to see:  “Pain is temporary; pride is forever.”  Indeed.  Keep putting one foot in front of the other and I will accomplish great things to last a lifetime!   At no point did I asses the pain to be indicative of injury.

about mile 15

Miles 18-22 and 25-26 were the most difficult for me mentally and physically.  Those miles were mostly on the interurban trail and were mostly void of spectators.   I had to keep going, and when my mind was frustrated, my legs kept moving.  And so, that became one of my mantras: my legs won’t quit.  Keep moving. One foot in front of the other.  My legs won’t quit. The photo to the right was along the interurban trail, somewhere around mile 15, obviously at a time when I was feeling good.

Early in the race I could have thoughts in full sentences and enjoy the surroundings, but near the end I was reduced to quick phrases and motivating mantras.  At the finish line the local brewery, Boundary Bay, was open to serve beer and burgers.  Thus as I kept pushing through the last six miles I repeated this:  Boundary Bay Burger Beer.  Finish Line.  Boundary Bay Burger Beer. Finish Line.  Finish line…

At mile 25 I almost started to cry.  I really wanted to be finished, and another 1.2 miles seemed to be an eternity.  Crying, however, too too much energy.  I closed my eyes, centered myself, and resumed a rhythm of breathing.  Without that moment of internal motivation and refocusing, I might have stopped to walk.  But I ran on…

There was a slight downhill in the last 0.2 mile—uff da, that hurt.  But round the corner, I saw the finish line and in spite of the pain, pressed on, increasing speed.  Oh, how sweet that finish line looked!

Overall, it was an amazing experience.  Crossing the finish line gave me immediate relief to the heavy spirit.  I finished in 4:49:01.  That’s only about 5 minutes slower than my fastest marathon.  And today, two days later, I have recovered faster and will be ready for Portland on Sunday—an improvement, I’d say!

Thank you dear readers for following this crazy adventure of mine.  The Portland Marathon is the Neurofibromatosis Team Endurance Race.  Please consider donating to the Children’s Tumor Foundation, if you have not done so already.

To this date, since April, I have raise $1,050 for neurofibromatosis research.  Thank you all!

On Tapering

One week to go before the first round at the Bellingham Bay Marathon, and two weeks before the Portland Marathon!  For the previous five months I have been slowly building and training hard.  It is during the final few weeks before the big day that one backs off and switches from primary mode of running to resting.  This is called the taper, and it is, in my opinion, vitally important to the training plan for a marathon.

The benefits are many:  with miles and miles of training underfoot, it is time to give the body and mind a rest and move instead to preparation.  I make sure I have all items I will need ahead for the race and the necessary transportation to get there.  I also continue to repeat in my head the positive phrases I will need for the duration of the 26.2 miles:  I can do this. I will finish.  I see myself doing it, enjoying it, and I allow myself into the excitement of the crowd.

These for me,  are all a part of the ritual, and have become necessary to ward off the fears.  It is not uncommon for me throughout the course of a year to have running dreams.  These dreams increase as a marathon nears, and many of them revolve around the race itself.  On Friday night one such dream came.  It was a frantic dream, one where I missed the start of the race. This scenario is something that always seems to come up for me, regardless of how outlandish it may seem in reality.

Perhaps not everyone will have dreams.  Others, have phantom pains.  All of us who sign up for a marathon, whether walkers, joggers, runners, or elite, have trained and put much energy into that training.  Fear of injury close to the race is common, and while one backs off the miles, the mind starts spinning.  A slight pain in the knee might trigger the fear of injury.  Or, in my case, at the moment, I feel a sore throat.  In this instance, as one of the housemates has strep throat, I’ve been exposed and am taking precautions to ward it off.  Hopefully I am not sick; I’ve resolved to compete no matter what, knowing it could be risky should I fall ill.

Above all, the slowing down and tapering down miles allows window for rest and recovery.  The body should by now be in peak shape, and can withstand a week of no running without much interruption into the physical condition. The real joy for me is to glow with pride in what I have accomplished in training and look forward to the joy of finishing.

What Motivates Me

What would motivate me, a sane person, to run 2 marathons in 7 days or for anyone to run 26.2 miles and beyond?  The answer to such questions can be as varied as there are runners to tell their stories.

For Dean Karnazes, ultramarathon runner and entrepreneur, that answer came from a place of turmoil in life.  In his book, Ultramarathon Man, he describes his entry into ultra running (anything beyond the 26.2 mile marathon distance, can go to 30, 50, and 100+ miles) through a difficult time in life. A one-time high school runner, he hadn’t run for years.  But at age 30, from somewhere inside him, something sparked, and one night he ran…and ran and ran and ran.

For me, there is something inside of me that calls me to run.  Born out of the struggle with neurofibromatosis, I run, not from pain, but right into it and through it.  Below is a journal entry from nearly 2 years ago, just before I ran my last marathon.  This is what could posses me to run 2 marathons in back-to-back weekends, the desire to empty myself of the disease…

Wednesday 3 October 2007

I feel sick to my stomach, distraced and ashamed.  A new tumor has sprout up on my face, large and knotty.  Painful to the touch and physically present with me in each minute.  It consumes my energy and attention.  It is visible enough to cause a bulge on my cheek.  It’s awful to face the world of people I know, who knew me yesterday without this thing on me.  In 4 days I will run the Portland Marathon.

Right in this moment I want with all of my being to run and run and run, to experience the pain and exhaustion physically and mentally of running a marathon.  I want to empty myself so there will be more room for me without the tumor.  This something so big and challenging brings out the inner strength I know is within me.

The tumors, by the way, often will first appear hard and painful, and then become softer and dormant days later.  Yet I still have similar reactions when they appear.  It’s a pressure I’d rather not live with, but must.  And so I run….

The Economics of Running

The NY Times Run Well Blog mentioned the economics of running, and points to some thoughts by Justin Wolfers, an economist who is also a runner in training for a marathon.  I think it’s worth a read.  Check it out.

Here’s a quote:

The foundation of all economics is something called opportunity cost. It says that the true cost of something is the alternative you have to give up.

So each hour that I spend running is an hour that I don’t spend hanging out, working or sleeping. How do I choose? Following economic theory, I keep doing an activity only as long as it yields greater benefits than the alternative….

The same logic applies to you. Each hour you spend on your hobby is an hour you don’t spend working harder to get a promotion, studying for a degree, or shopping around for the cheapest groceries.

While I am no economist, I am well aware that running costs more than just an entrance fee.  A marathon is quite an investment, from the cost of the race itself (often $80-$1oo+), to shoes (again, $80-$100 a pair, as inevitably running more than a hundred miles in preparation might warrant a quality pair), to the cost of time spent running and not doing other valuable things (social obligations, other lost opportunities…).  Arguably, when one runs for enjoyment, that time spent running is valuable and isn’t necessarily at the cost of something else.  However, to prepare for a marathon one needs three or four months of training, and that’s if you’ve been introduced to running for awhile.  The slower one is, the longer one is out running those 15 and 20 mile runs.  I give nearly a whole day to my 20 mile runs from first preparation through the run, refuel, recovery and rest.

When faced with the challenge of how to run all those miles and still socialize, I’ve had to get creative.  Some of my friends, while shaking their heads in confusion, also graciously allow me to show up for outings in my sweaty running clothes.  I’ve run to meet a friend for dinner and I’ve run to a church meeting.  Two years ago I ran to a summer class where I had access to a locker and a shower to freshen up before class.  Sometimes I just have to wake up early—not my favorite thing to do, but I can do it.

Above all—and most obviously—I consider marathoning to be worth the cost.  (Otherwise I wouldn’t be signed up to my 6th and 7th races!)  However, it seems the economist missed the opportunity to talk about the economics of choice with the money and time one has in addition to what one misses by spending time and money running.  I enjoy a simple lifestyle and regularly make choices that are sustainable and within my budget.  Thus, it isn’t only about what I’m not doing because I’m running, but what I choose to do (or not) in order to continue running.  That makes a huge difference in adding value to the many hours of training for a marathon.  For example, I will willingly go without common electronic luxuries or forgo food in restaurants to make room financially for another run. I also can choose to walk to work, live in the city without a car, and buy local fresh foods.  In turn, my body is healthier, and I add training into my daily routine of working and eating.

So I haven’t lost nearly as much that economist calculates for himself.  But that’s just me.

And oh, the biggest reward for me isn’t monetary, nor will I get back in any economic sense the time and effort I’ve put into running.  But it pays of big when I cross the finish line after 26.2 miles.  What a sense of accomplishment!