Rest Day - January 30, 2014

The Long Run - January 26, 2014

I read somewhere that a black toenail was a right of passage as a runner. That got me thinking - how the heck do you get one of those? 

Season after season, mile after mile, no black toenail. Then came the Honolulu Marathon - Bingo! I got that badge of honor I thought would be a signal to the world that I am a runner. A reward to myself that somehow proves that I am a part of a group of people that I so badly want to be a part of. 

I bragged to unsuspecting coworkers, family, and even running mates. I told them about the battle I fought to finish my last marathon and how that resulted in my new permanent blemish. Except, it's not so permanent. Today my blemish is no more; my toenail is back to normal, and I couldn't be sadder. 

Now that it's gone, I feel a little let down. I thought for sure that like the metal I received for finishing the race, I would have this forever too. They say time heals all wounds, but I thought for sure the scar would never fade.  

Arctic Strides would like to know if you have any sentimental  scars and how you got them. 

Rest Day - January 21, 2014

I am feeling a little defeated. My shin splints have magnified into knee pain and ankle pain in my left leg. I am afraid I may have to go see my doctor about it. The last time I had a similar problem, I was told to take it easy. My doctor said nothing was wrong, it was just my body telling me to slow down. I hope that is still the case, but I hate to pay to see a doctor just to have him say – “Take it easy son.” 

Arctic Strides would like to know how you keep your spirits up when your body is holding you back?  

Cool Down Chat - Jan 19, 2014

I planed a long run (10miles) for Saturday and as I causiously prepared to go I was optimistic about the outcome. However, the pain of a worsening shinsplint set in, and I had to cut the run short. Hobbeling home a level of dissatisfaction settle in and I felt like a newby all over again. Ibprohrine, ice, and ace bandage wraps were my best friends back then and our reunion is bitter sweet. 

Cool Down Chat - Jan 17, 2014

I have no run to report on today. I am taking the advice of a friend and RICEing it. The weather we are having would have made for an interesting run - it's raining and tempatures have risen to be a bit above average. My guess is the trails are rather sloppy this morning. 

Cool Down Chat - Jan 15, 2014

The trail conditions varied from deep slush to being covered by wind blown snow drifts. Most of the trails were smooth and packed down like normal. I would say that all-in-all the trails were good. 

Like most of my runs these days, I was in great company. And as per usual, good company leads to good conversation, which leads me to ask the following question - Arctic Strides would like to know, why do you run? Finish the sentence: I run because _________

I Run Alaska, Or So I Thought

When I first started running I thought I would keep a blog too. I titled it, I Run Alaska, but as time went on my entries were fewer and fewer until they were nonexistent. Then with the New Year, I thought that I should revive it and made a resolution to do just that. You can imagine my disappointment when I discovered that I Run Alaska had been claimed by someone else, and that they even had a following too.  At first I was upset seeing the name I so brilliantly came up with displayed across the masthead of someone else’s webpage. The new I Run Alaska author had even created a Twitter and Instagram account using the same handle. At wits end, I sent “I Run Alaska” a message on Instagram to let him know that I was the original author and even made some kind of passive aggressive joke to insinuate my lack of enthusiasm.  

After reading some of his entries my disappointment turned into amazement and even a little envy. I Run Alaska was writing about things that I had only dreamed of. He had accomplished in three years things I was only just learning about. I Run Alaska is an ultra-marathoner and six-time marathon finisher;  having run at least two 50 mile races and one 100 mile race he has transcended from name thief to legend in my mind. With that, I decided I would embrace the opportunity to create a new name for my blog and the chance to make a new friend. 

Using social media, I messaged the author and asked if he would like to go for a run sometime; not surprisingly he said yes. A date was set and friendly notes continued until the day of our scheduled encounter. We agreed on a meeting time and place and for the first time shook hands. Brandon is a tall slender guy with a red rugged Alaskan kind of beard; he has blues eyes, a great smile, and an impressive outlook on life.  A local boy from Eagle River, he is a UAA grad. He works for a division of the state, but I can’t recall which. Married with two kids, Brandon has a son and a daughter and, again not surprisingly, seems to love everything about being a husband and father. 

I asked him what inspired his running and how he got started – like most of us, he wanted to get healthy, lose weight, and accomplish something bigger than himself. He met the challenge head on, lost more than 90 pounds and ran a sub five marathon his first year. He’s a pretty likeable guy and very easy to talk to, so it should come to no surprise that he made friends in the running community very quickly.  It wasn’t  too long before someone turned him onto the idea that running 100 miles was a good one. The Resurrection 100 was his first 100 mile race and if you have some time, I would encourage you to read more about it on Brandon’s blog; it’s a great story.

Our chance encounter turned out to be a pretty good one and after running 9.5 miles together in 20- something temperatures I would defiantly say I made a new friend.  The name I Run Alaska I am now happy to concede to a very deserving runner. I am glad to have met Brandon and look forward to reading more about his many races, and perhaps to join him on a few myself.

Cool Down Chat - Jan 12, 2014

After a 9.5 mile run yesterday with my new running friend, my left ankle is killing me. The trails were perfect and the temps were just right, but maybe I put in just a few miles more than I was prepared for this early in my training. 

Arctic Strides wants to hear your best at home remedies for those aches and pains we all get from running. 

Cool Down Chat - Jan 10, 2014

Cool Down Chat - 1/10/14

The trail conditions were a lot like the sandy beaches of Hawaii only they were covered in snow. So like any "normal" Alaskan, I did my best to take advantage of the situation. I imagined the warm sun shining down on me cooking my skin until I'm a lovely shade of golden brown. I pretended the wind from the cars zooming past me was warm trade-winds of the pacific, and the whooshing sound was the sea. Aah - it was a blissful run today.

Confession: I hit the snooze button at least three times before I finally made it out of bed to lace up my shoes and hit the trails. Arctic Strides would like to know what motivates you to get out of bed every day.

Too Early?

Wednesday morning - it's 4:30 and I am already hustling and bustling around the house grabbing this and that before I head out the door for an extra early morning run. I never feel like it's too early to head out until about twelve hours latter. When the afternoon comes and all I can think about is taking a nap. 

I wonder how other people train. Are there other "extra early" morning runners like my running partner and me? Is there a consensus on the best time of day to run? I would love some feed back. So if you're reading this, Arctic Strides would like to know - when's the best time of day to run and how do you get over the afternoon slump? 

Cool Down Chat - Jan 6, 2014

The trails were groomed really well tonight. It made for fast cross country skiing, and even faster running. It made for a great start to a long training season. 

Honolulu – The Best, Worst Run of My Life

Honolulu – The Best, Worst Run of My Life

On Monday I ran for the first time since the Honolulu Marathon; it has been more than 20 days since that grueling, best, worst run of my life. 

The Honolulu Marathon is one of the most fun races I have ever done, both times. However, this year was little different. I didn’t train as well as I should have and was completely unprepared for the drastic weather change from Alaska to Hawaii. My last training run in Alaska, was at 15 degrees Fahrenheit; 17 degrees below the freezing point. My next race, the Honolulu marathon, reached a high of more than 85 degrees. It was awful. I watched people being loaded into ambulances, people cramping up due to dehydration, and people stopped at every hydration station looking for something to cool their blistered lungs. I didn’t hesitate to stop at each one myself. It’s lucky there were so many. 

The race started at 5am with a burst of fireworks and a sudden wave of energy that moved the crowd of more than 22,000 forward. It was one of the best feelings in the world. I began my journey about a half-mile away from the starting line; it took close to 20 minutes to get all the way to the front where I could actually start running.

I end up mixed in with all levels of runners at the start of every race. There are kids, old people, walkers, joggers, and even people in costumes; everyone seems to be in my way. The beginning of a race is where a runner makes or breaks a run. Far too often I let my competitive nature overtake me; I end up wasting energy trying to zigzag my way through the crowd of runners I believe are just obstacles blocking my big finish. As I attempt to progress past the flocks of people, I try to memorize what they are wearing, and what they look like. I don’t want anyone that I worked so hard to pass, to pass me later. Unfortunately when I do this, by mile three I already begin to feel my muscles protest. I spent the first mile trying to pass as many people as possible; had I been more patient, I would have passed all those people anyways, and it wouldn’t have cost me so many important calories.

***

The best parts of the race are the sections of the course that are actually in Honolulu. The city, although mostly asleep, is there to greet me with the warmest smile. Officers stand in intersections blocking traffic just for me, and as I run by I shout out “Thank You,” or maybe “Mahalo.” Fans line up along the dew covered sidewalks yelling things in Japanese that I can’t understand, but somehow I know they’re words of encouragement. At this point in the race, my energy level is still very high and everyone seems so excited about running 26.2 miles in a Hawaiian paradise. As the sun begins to rise, my mood begins to change. As the temperature climbs, and the day grows brighter, runners grow weaker, even the fans seem a little less energetic.

As I exit the major hubs of the city and begin to climb the hills surrounding Diamondhead I can see the ocean and feel the cool breeze coming off the sea. I transcend the sweat, heat, and pain, and remember I am in Hawaii, the tropic trophy of the Pacific. Gradually, transcendence slips back to reality and that trophy begins to tarnish in the heat. After 13 very long miles, my lack of proper training, and the elements overcome me. Unable to run any further, I walk.

Exhausted, and a little dehydrated, I still have a lot of hope and drive inside me. I am determined to finish the race. From time to time, I muster the energy to sprint a short distance. Blisters form on my toes and the balls of my feet. My shoes are soaked with water and sweat. My heavy shirt and underpants chaff me raw. Pain. Fatigue. I want to quit. I want to throw myself down to the ground and sleep, but I don’t.

At mile 15, despair settles in and whispers “you will never reach the finish line”. Each mile is another monster I must face; I must fight. Each victory however short-lived brings the realization there is yet another mile, another monster I have to face and defeat.

At mile 21, E.M.T’s doing chest compressions load an elderly woman into an ambulance on a stretcher. The runners with the lady (all strangers from what I can tell) look confused. One of them says something like, “I caught her as she began to fall.” I keep walking; what else can I do?

Another hydration station and bags of ice line the road. I hobble as fast as I can to the ice and throw myself down on top of it like a kid in the first snow of the year. For a second, I’m home. I can’t stay long, because the longer I stay still; the harder it is to get moving again.

With just a little less than five miles left, my spirits begin to pick up and I look forward to crossing the finish line. Several other Alaskans recognize my Alaskan printed cycling shirt and chat with me along the course. People from: Eagle River, Wasilla, Fairbanks, and even Juneau. Looking at the roster now, I see there were 25 Alaskan finishers, some of which came from the most remote of Alaskan communities, like Salcha, Kotzebue, and Bethel. 

The last mile. The last mile welcomed me like a long lost friend. I meet a wonderful woman from Juneau, who has lived in Hawaii for the last decade or so. We chat about all kinds of things, but mostly the weather. She explains how the volcanic fog hanging in the air affects most of the runners. The fog traps in some of the heat and creates more humidity than normal. She tells me it is a horrible day to go running, and then with a smile says, “you better start going, the finish line is less than 50 yards away and you want to look good for your finisher photos.”

My family waits for me in the crowds of people, and I know they cheer for me. I don’t want to let them down, so I run for it. I put on a smile, power through the pain, and run across that finish line. As I cross over the markers I hear my name from across the barrier gates and see my wife, kids, and my in-laws. They smile, and wave, and cheer for me. 

***

I cannot begin to explain the emotions I feel each time I finish a race, and see them there. The support and encouragement my family offers, overwhelms me at times. The love I feel, brings tears to my eyes.

I finished the race in 6 hours 30 minutes. It was awful, it was hard, it was the most painful experience of my life, but it was worth it. It was an amazing accomplishment, and wonderful opportunity to learn about myself. It is a reminder that the limits I put on myself often fall short of what I am truly capable of.