A Push Forward

     
 
        I've been particularly motivated in my training lately. It's been a while since I had a drive for greater things in this sport. Last year at Christmas, I was coming off of several months of the greatest volume of miles I've ever achieved. I was running a 10k as a bench mark with no real plan to try and get a PR. I just wanted to see where I was competitively at the moment. I came out at a blistering pace for me, just to see how long I could sustain it. It wasn't until the 4 mile mark that I realized that I wasn't likely to bonk, and that I would likely get a PR. I finished the race in 45 and change, beating my PR by 3 minutes.
 
       I then made the plan to try and PR every distance race up to the half marathon. I started training harder and doing a lot of trail speed work to build strength and endurance. I was working midnights and would do the majority of my running after work in the beautiful trails of Ann Arbor. I was doing speed work this day and was shredding the course. About 3/4 of a mile from the finish on final stretch through the wood chips, I felt a little pop in my calf. That would take me out of running for 3 months.

       I still had hope to achieve my goals, but I had lost quite a bit of speed and endurance. I started training hard again, and saw some improvement without pain. Then one day I stepped out of work through the front door into the pretty morning sun and my calf popped as I stepped down off the curb. I was done for the season this time. I would run sporadically, but my hopes of achieving my goals were dashed. I gained a bunch of weight, ate stupidly, and drank beer without limits.

...

       I lost most of the weight due to a weight loss challenge with a friend, which also put me on the road logging miles to lose the weight. I got back to within 10 lbs of my ideal weight and started amping up my mileage and speed. Before I knew it, I was breaching into the 7s per mile. Running has become a battle again, but not because I hate it, but because I am trying to improve every run. On my slow paced runs, I try to focus on form and breathing. On my speed runs, I try to race my best run on the course and focus on my mile splits.

       I've decided to set goals again. I want to beat my 5k (23:58) time by 2 minutes. It sounds lofty, but I feel like I've unofficially beat that at least a dozen times. Ultimately, I'd like to find myself in the 6s for the 5k. My last goal was too broad and the training wasn't specific enough for the races I was planning. This will be one race, one distance, and my training will be focused on just that.




Sing.
Migrate.

Running "Happy?"

     

     
        I wonder often what other people think about when they run. Running is a battle and everyone fights that battle differently. They either choose not to run at all or they find a way to cope with the pain, lack of oxygen, and exhaustion. Running really is hard.

       I go to sad places. I've found that to take my mind off of every pain I feel when each foot hits the ground, I need to go to a place that hurts even more. I get lost there in that place that makes a person want to cry during their "healthy" activity. "Brooks" has this motto that says "Run Happy." I really don't get the motto because I don't understand how anyone is happy when doing something so stupid looking and miserable.

       During the summer months, I get up early to run in the cooler air or run after the sun goes down, because I cannot tolerate the heat. During the winter months, I wrap every inch of my body up in layers of fabric to keep myself from freezing to death as my eye lashes freeze and snow builds onto my beard that I keep for this reason. No one likes this. They like how it makes them feel after. I'm in that boat.

        I like being done running. I feel accomplished; especially if I had run in terrible conditions. But during the run, I need to go to a different place.

       I make myself miserable to learn to tolerate something a little less miserable.



Sing.
Migrate.

Still on my Feet

       

       
        I haven't posted a blog in a while. Three years really. I haven't stopped running. I've been plagued with various injuries, starting with the ones I made worse during my marathon. I had finished the marathon broken. I crossed the line because I couldn't not cross it. I will give myself credit for perseverance if not stupidity. I tried to run for weeks because running had become a part of who I was. My knee betrayed me every time. My metabolism from training was so high and I was hungry all of the time and couldn't run. I put on a bunch of weight and struggled to find motivation look at the endless pavement again. Somehow, I had forgotten how great it made me feel and only remembered the work.

        I ran a couple of times week for the next year or so. I had a friend at work challenge me to a mileage competition. I needed this because I needed a reason to compete. I took him up. We both ran. For 31 days, we ran everyday. I left it all on the road. This was a challenge of wills. In the end; he won. But no one lost. I put my best month of running in the books. I ran 200 miles for the month. I had more in me, but at the very start, that was my max. I didn't think I could do it, but I did. This, to me maybe, meant more than the marathon.

        After the competition, I got the bad idea of reducing my mileage to allow lifting time. This led to me reducing my mileage to 10 miles a week and barely lifted my head from the pillow. I had list a lot of weight and now I was gaining it back rapidly, and ended up gaining more than ever.

       Again, a competition with a friend for weight loss put my feet back on the pavement. I won this one. I didn't eat and ran everyday. I lost 29 lbs. He lost 27. We both won.

        So now I am obsessed again; putting cement behind me everyday. I'm doing the work and starting to remember the benefits. It's crazy because I have spent the winter months putting in 9:45 min/mi to now returning to sub 8 min miles. I'd like to PR my 5k this year. That's my goal.

       







Sing.
Migrate.

Twenty-six Point Two

This was it. The one day that I trained 4 months to get to. Here is my detailed account starting from the night before.

The night before...
We checked into the Marriott in the Rec Cen in early evening. Laura and I had our nerves as about as high as they could be. I've been nervous about big events before, but never like this. Later in the night as I lay in the dark listening to the breathing going on in the room, I compared it too what the night before a battle would feel like. This was a tired exaggeration of course. We went out and got dinner with some friends in the city and headed off to the expo at Cobo to get our bibs and our annual race photo together. We went back to the hotel and after some complications finally got to bed at 11:30PM. I was nervous about not getting enough sleep because I work midnights, so I woke up early the day before to accommodate. I fell asleep right away.

2:30 the day of...
I woke up to frost on the glass window overlooking the entire city. I could tell it would be getting colder and this would be a rough start. I closed my eyes, but found nothing but my racing mind. There were a lot of things going through my head. I was injured so badly that I didn't run for 13 days prior. I hadn't run for 13 days prior, so that scared me too. Maybe I had gotten out of shape. This race was six miles longer than my longest and most miserable run in my life. Maybe the worst was the fear that I would fight this battle and give all that I had and it would still not be enough. My last run was an eight miler after work that I felt knee pain at mile three. I had nothing but failure in my head. I didn't fall asleep again.

5:30 AM...
I got up and dressed quietly, trying not to wake my children or their aunt who was so awesome to bring them to cheer us on. Laura and I were still just nerves. We bickered a bit and let the anxiety set in a little more. I looked out at the city that slept through the frosted window and decided to allow myself to let go. I wasn't going to be afraid from this moment further.

7:00 AM...
The gun. The music. The crowd. The horns. The shouting. We found our friends and exchanged hugs and handshakes. All acknowledging the work it took us all to get here. There isn't a lot of things that could get you closer to another person than experiencing misery running under the hot sun together. Me and Brian (my training partner and good friend) have done this before, but never to this magnitude. When we crossed the start, I felt like sprinting.

Mile 3ish...
We were about to get on the bridge to Canada and I already felt my left knee stabbing me and my hip aching. Mentally, I still wanted to sprint and from now and for the next bunch of miles, Brian would have to keep pulling my pace back. My anxiety made me want to get the race done with. I turned my watch to just the time so I could listen to my body and stop obsessing over information. The bridge uphill wasn't difficult at all. It's my favorite part of the race. The downhill hurt my knee and hip badly and heading into Canada was when my doubt started.

Mile 7ish...
We entered the tunnel at a faster pace than we had planned for. I had pushed the pace I think and on the initial downhill, I was almost sprinting. I'm not sure why, but I suspect my anxiety was still present. We got through the uphill and out of the tunnel (the world's only underwater mile) and into the cold air again. By this time I had shed all of my throw away outer wear. I was in race mode now and my mind was allowing me to settle in for the long haul. I had done this distance before and after the tunnel is the home stretch in a half, so I knew that this was almost half way and going to be a long race. It was nice to see the crowd support on the other side of the border. We were doing very well at this point. I had pain, but I thought maybe I could endure it.

Mile 11ish...
We were running though Mexican Village when I doubted I could finish. The knee was the biggest issue. Every step was a knife into my flesh. I thought several times that I should just veer off when the half marathoners separated from the full. This persisted.

Mile 13.1...
I stayed the course because no one claims victory when they have given up. Four months of training brought me here, so a couple more hours was worth the pain. After the half mark, the crowd dispersed and the terrain got ugly. There is no one on this stretch of the race for 2-3 miles. I had a preview of this portion from the RunDetroit 18 mile training run. I didn't like it then and I wasn't to like it now. I ran it fast however. I felt the pain, but I thought about the people that got me here...the people I wrote about in my last blog. At mile 14ish, I saw TJ, my dear friend, who had come to cheer his friends on. He was in the right place as this was an under-cheered section of the course. He ran about a tenth with me, asking if I needed anything at all. I told him it hurt everywhere, but I was ok. Honestly, this was the push I needed. I stopped feeling much pain and pushed on at a good pace through Indian Village and into the dreaded "Wall."

Mile 20ish...
I told Brian on Belle Ile to go for it. Our plan was to run a steady 9:30ish pace, then give it our best for the last six miles and end up with sub-4hr times. I was limping at this point and I knew I couldn't hit sub-4. He looked strong, so I told him to leave me. He looked back a couple of times to see where I was, but I looked away from him. He is a great guy and I didn't want him to feel the need to stick with me. He was on target and I was an anchor now. My pace was slowing and I was beginning to gallup. I wanted him to give the best he had.

Mile 22ish...
Finally off of Belle Ile and feeling terrible. People were dropping like flies on the bridge back to the city. The crowd support began to grow and people were handing out love like it was Woodstock. TJ met me there again. I knew I looked bad by looking at him. He ran another 10th with me, telling me things that would push me forward. His help could not have been bought. People were looking at my green bib, knowing it meant it was my first marathon and giving me special attention and encouragement. It worked to keep me moving, but my legs were all done. I tried to do some butt kicks to stretch the knee without stopping, but the butt kicks led to hamstring cramps. I decided to take the path of least resistance. I would move slowly but always forward without stopping.

Mile 25ish...
I had been waiting so see my children the entire race. I thought of Will and of my wife and how she hugged me in the middle of the street on Christmas 2009, knowing I was lost. I thought of all of the things that made me want to bring myself to this exhaustion. I pushed forward slowly. At this point I was barely moving, but I wasn't going to quit and I wasn't going to let my body tell me that I couldn't do it. I saw my kids with their aunt Kelley at mile 25.5 when they screamed my name. I was in a different world, so they had to shout a lot for me to notice. I touched their hands with mine and kept going. If I had stopped for any longer I would have broken down sobbing. I had to move forward.

Twenty-six point two...
I turned the corner and finally saw the finish line. I held back emotion so I could keep moving. The crowd was loud and I heard the cowbells and shouting. I heard everyone I loved shouting for me in my head. In my life, I haven't had it easy. I've had to just move forward, inch by inch. One step in front of another. I had achieved what the majority of people in my life thought was impossible for me. Now I had achieved what 0.5% of Americans have done. I crossed the finish line running twenty-six point two miles. I wanted to break down, but I needed to move forward and see if Brian had done it. He fell just short by 6 minutes. We embraced and were happy. We had both left all that we had on that pavement.


5 days later...
I waited to write this because I wanted to have an objective assessment of the race and of my plans. At first and for the next few days, I vowed to never run a marathon again. I said it wasn't my race. One of my legs is shorter than the other and I am at a disadvantage. After a few days to get pissed at not reaching my goal by 21 minutes, I have decided that I can't let it go. This is a race that I must run again and be happy with. While I do feel accomplished and I know I was injured going in, I still feel like I am so much better than I performed. This was probably why they tell you that your first marathon should be focused just on finishing. Well the next marathon, I will take what I have learned and run smarter, eat better, and be faster than the last.


This isn't the end of this blog. I will be documenting my running journey and life as it relates often. I would love for you to join me.





Sing.
Migrate.

Week XVIII (Race Week)

Race Week
26.2 miles

Here is why I am running this marathon. This has no order, but the numbers are based on when I'll need you the most in this race.

Without you, my life would be be void.

Mile 1- Laura- She is everything I have wanted to be my entire life. She is the reason I have a drive to live at all. All of my blood and sweat belongs to her. Mile one means I'm just getting started, which was the message she has always given me.
Mile 2- Caeden- He is both his mother and I. He worries and yet he perseveres. My son. You will be on my mind the entire race. When I doubt, I'll think of you and keep fighting.
Mile 3- Aevry- Once, she instantly mended my broken heart by giving me hers. My Daughter who leaves me notes and thinks of things so thoughtful that no one could imagine.
Mile-4- Olivia- I was robbed of you. I never gave up and I would never give in. I smile when I think of you.
Mile 5- Mom- She raised us with nothing and worked so hard to give us something. She fought until bloody and still stands.
Mile 6- Jason- Coffman We weren't as close as I wished we could have been, but we grew up side by side. We had different viewpoints, but the same heart.
Mile 7- Mrs. Hughes- You asked me once when I hated you for being hard on me if my father was around. I didn't answer, but you knew. You loved me more than the rest because of it.
Mile 8- My father, because F him for missing out. I'll run this mile in anger and finish it with a smile, knowing I am stronger than he was. Forgiveness of you is my second greatest battle, right behind myself. I'll run this mile in anger.
Mile 9- Jon Stewart- You brought me back to real life. You showed me that there is something out there that isn't generic and invited me to live in it with you.
Mile 10- Jim Stewart- I sat on a roof with you and you taught me that the world isn't so bad as long as you have God. I've learned to live this way.
Mile 11- Brandy Mattice- I have no idea where you are, but in the fifth grade you wrote something on the back page of my yearbook that took too much space for my liking. You told me not to stay in the shadows for too long and to lead because that is what I was born to do. I will never forget this was from a 10 year old.
Mile 12- Nicole Moore and her mom- This was my first job trying to help people. Nicole encouraged me and empowered me. Nicole's mom sent me a letter telling me the same thing that Brandy did 13 years later. I was something that God wanted to use.
Mile 13- Scott Shatzer- You may not know it, but you are a really great guy. You are one of the few people I genuinely trust. When I look at you I see a person that is pure at heart.
Mile 14- Eloise Ayers- You hated me from start to finish and told me I'd never be anything. You tried to steal my joy of being in high school, but you failed. This mile will be run against you and smiling. Mile 15- Kathleen- No haven't had much, but your loyalty to those you love has taught me that you choose your family and your family means everything.
Mile 16- Jeff Coaty- I bullied you in school. You grew bigger and stronger and became one of my brothers. There were a lot of people at Will's funeral and a lot of things said to me. One of the most comforting was you pulling my head to yours and weeping with me. You knew there weren't words to say.
Mile 17- Dave McWhorter- You are my mentor. Even if I'm not a pastor anymore, you taught me that people are going to hurt you even if you are loving them. Love them anyway and NOTHING IS BIGGER THAN THE CROSS. You were a major part of me becoming a man.
Mile 18- Jerame- You may think I've left, but I haven't. I'm letting you be a man now. You are a strong kid. You reminded me that I am useful and that I did something to better this world.
Mile 19- Andy- You are forever my brother. We would meet hell for each other. There are no words brother. You carry me
Mile 20- Patrick- You were the first student I had that I saw myself in. I have taken great joy in watching you grow. I have never been prouder of you in my life.
Mile 21- Josh Condon- You are literally always on my mind. You have been with me through everything. Joy and pain, music and sorrow. You're a brother to me. I'd never sing without you.
Mile 22- Jo-ann- My other mother. You are stronger than me. You are the strength that reminds me that I can keep going.
Mile 23- Audrey- I never had a sister, but I doubt that she would be anywhere near as loving as you. There isn't a bigger heart than yours.
Mile 24- Jim Doederlein- I didn't have a real dad, so you became him. You may not have all of the answers to fix everything, but you had the right ones to help fix me.
Mile 25- Joe- One of the last. The Dead End Kids. 2/3 Bearded. Nothing will be what is was. We can't go back, but we can lean on each other for strength. The Dead End Kids move forward always.
Mile 26- Will- I lost you. It was as much my mistake as anyone else's. I've been broken since you left and that isn't likely to change, but I've fought so hard. I'll finish this race for you and me. I'll bear the weight my brother. I'll finally run down the demons.
Mile .20- Me- This part is for me. I've fought hard and will finish standing. Our lives are so much more than our own strength. God puts people in our lives to make us what we are. We may break and we may collapse, but God will lift us. All 26 of you have picked me up out of the mud. This last .20 is for my own strength to endure this life.


Sing.
Migrate.

Week XVII

Week XVII
8 miles

I'm injured. I ran my 8 mile long run of the week on Monday and had significant pain the whole way. I finished the run, but I'm not going to finish the week...or the next. I need to rest until the race if I have any shot at all of finishing.

I'm grasping at straws now. All research and knowledge I have acquired is mute because I have a very real injury.

Despite the injury, I have come too far to cower. I will run this race and I will run it with every last bit of me that is left. I'm taking the last two weeks off to give me the best chance of rest. I'm going to gut this one out. I'm going to take all of the anger and grief and pride and heartbreak and make it propel my broken legs to the finish if I have to.

Sing.
Migrate.

Week XVI

Week XVI
17.09 miles

Taper Week 1

Started the week with a trail run after work with my work running group. It felt ok. The hip still hurts, but I kept a really slow pace and tried to enjoy the color changes in the woods. I'm trying to forget about my hip and knee. I'm afraid that I am actually injured and not just hurt.

I ran a twelve with my wife (Laura) and our friend Tracy. I wanted to keep my pace down so I welcomed the company for our last long run of the training. I took a place behind them to let them set the pace. I was really trying not to push the pace and this seemed like the best way. The girls kept a really fast pace and I thought that maybe I could benefit from a little slower, but I'm not gonna be that guy. My hip hurt the whole way and at mile 8, my hip voiced it's opinion on the matter. I stretched at every red light, but I couldn't keep it out. I am actually injured two and a half weeks before the biggest race of my life. I finished strong, but discouraged and angry.

I skipped the 4 and the 5 mile to give my legs some time to rethink their injuries. I
l'll give them a go next week. The long run will be 8 miles. I'll do that first to see where my knees are at and do the rest after.



Sing.
Migrate.