Running Thoughts

MARITIME RUNNING (May 2011)

2012-02-12T14:24:00.001-07:00

In a previous blog I mentioned that we often visit placesthat we quickly learn to love. Neverhaving sufficient time, we leave with a determination to return – and yetseldom do. Occasionally, however, we do goback. Such was our trip to Nova Scotiaand Atlantic Canada –my third trip there and the second one for Karen and metogether – but definitely one with some new twists, new experiences and newterrain. When I first visited NovaScotia in (I believe) 1990, I was impressed by the wildflowers, the French andBritish history, its lush and verdant country sides, and the rugged andspectacular coastlines, which spoke of a maritime history and boasted of one ofthe premier drives in North America – the Cape Breton highway.

On this trip, we enjoyed some of thebeautiful coast and sleepy fishing villages again, we got better acquaintedwith the provincial capital of Halifax and, of course, we ran a half-marathon –which was the impetus for the trip and our third Canadian Province. The race was in Halifax – the BluenoseMarathon and Half-Marathon. We quiteenjoyed it. The route started at theimpressive citadel in the city center, went through hospital and universityareas, some older residential areas and then along the water’s edge to a parkon the southern peninsula which reached into the Bay and the Atlanticbeyond. It was a very pretty park –although also the area where the route was most difficult as we ran a couple oftrails that ascended some pretty steep hills. However, we were rewarded with some great views and a very impressiveresidential area before finishing the race back near the Citadel.

The race was well-supported, there weredecent crowds along the way, the weather was cooperative and the race expo wasgood – at least after we finally found it! Initially, we couldn’t find it when we went to pick up race packets andsince it was raining steadily, we weren’t thrilled to be looking all over forit. Signs were not posted, peopleweren’t seen coming and going with the trademark race bags, and none of thecivic center entrances appeared to be open. Eventually, we found it through a virtually unmarked basement door, butit was an inauspicious beginning. Fortunately, once inside it was dry and warm with some interestingvendors. On race day, the weather wasmuch better and the pace was great! Since we were going to be running another race a week later, I wasn’tsure I wanted to try and run both races at maximum tempo, so I decided I wouldrun Boston hard and run with Karen in Halifax. Karen was skeptical it would end well (since she doesn’t like to feelpushed), but we actually ran the entire race together and managed to finishstill friends! I don’t remember muchabout the post-race food – so it must not have been overly memorable – but therace (and the company) was good.

The most memorable part of the trip was the new experience inan area none of us had ever visited, namely Newfoundland. After the race, we spent a couple of hours inthe very picturesque area of Peggy’s Cove and then headed east for the 4-5 hourdrive to Sydney on the eastern shore of Nova Scotia.

We caught an overnight ferry and landed inChannel Port aux Basques, Newfoundland the next morning. The next four days we explored a tiny fraction of a very beautiful place, as we traversed the southwestern section of the island.

The scenery was stunning. The mountains were unique, the coastlines rugged, the geology fantastic, the waterfalls plentiful and impressive, the fjords beautiful and the lakes and forests picturesque and vast. We had some great hiking to waterfalls, lakes, the coast and a peak - particularly enjoying our two days in Gros Morne National Park.

As it turnsout, we visited a bit early in the season so weren’t able to do the hike to thetop of Gros Morne Mountain or take the boat ride into the Western Brook Pond(Fjord), but just the views were wellworth it. I’ve sailed in the Norwegianand New Zealand fjords – and these were not far behind in their stunningbeauty. However, they were alsodifferent – and this speaks of the area geology. Whereas you picture fjords as going inlandfrom the ocean, in Newfoundland they were INLAND fjords, with a river flowingout of the fjord to the ocean. Similarly, the mountains were sort of upside down from how you wouldnormally picture them – to include some areas where the visible rock on thesurface is the type of rock you would normally expect to find thousands of feetdown into the earth. They had adifferent feel and look.

These were notthe jagged peaks of the Tetons, but rather the uplifted escarpments. We were really torn in our visit betweenwanting to spend time in the mountains and along the coast – and exploring theViking sites and iceberg alleys further north. As it turns out, we decided to travel less and see more of a smallerarea. We don’t regret that decision –but it has put another location on our list of places we really want to returnto.

All in all, it was another great trip – with a race thrown into justify it! We enjoyed meeting newpeople and found them universally friendly – albeit with a brogue that was abit difficult to understand at times!

So, if you aren’t completely certain where Newfoundland is, pull outyour atlas and trace a line east and a bit north of Maine (we were actuallyonly about as far north as Vancouver BC, although much more remote). Mark the spot and we suggest you consider itfor inclusion in your travel bucket list. You won’t be disappointed – and there are some great things to see anddo in Nova Scotia while you are getting there.

REVOLUTIONARY RUNNING

2011-11-12T12:36:00.001-07:00

When was thelast time you felt like you were on hallowed ground? No doubt, you have felt that way a few timesin life. For me, those occasions haveinvariably been tied to events that shaped our history in significant ways - orthat honor those whose sacrifices have helped preserve our way of life. A recent run provided a great refresher inAmerican history - and one that again provided me that feeling of being onhallowed ground. It was Boston's Run to

Remember - and fittingly - it was run over the Memorial Day weekend.

When the ideafor this run was conceived, it was to recognize and remember police and lawenforcement offers who had fallen in the line of duty. Over time, veteran's were also part of theremembrance. For me, our itinerary madeit easy to include many others. We rodeand walked through sites forever tied to the American revolution and the birthof our nation. The greens at Lexingtonand Concord; the roads along which the Massachusetts militia clashed with theBritish and blood was first shed in the fledging cause; the road ridden by PaulRevere and his associates as they set out to warn the communities that theBritish were on their way; and even some of the homes that still stand andwhere the seeds of the revolution were planted and took root. History comes alive when walking the groundwhere it took place - and such was the case in the Boston area for thistrip. We also had the good fortune ofhaving an excellent guide accompany us. On the day we visited many of these sites, we met Camille Bennett Foster(Brad's sister and someone I knew very well in my youth and have stayed intouch with over the years), who has lived in the area for probably 30years. She was very familiar with thearea and the history and took us to some great sites and gave us some excellentinsights. We also visited the MinutemenNational Historical Park where exhibits and information enhanced the experienceand gave us renewed appreciation for those who paved the way for futuregenerations. In addition to theRevolutionary War experience, Camille took us to several other sites we wouldnever have known about on our own - indeed a cradle of early Americanliterature, to include the home of Louisa May Alcott, Nathaniel Hawthorne (aliterary tradition for several generations in this home), Henry David Thoreau,and Walden's Pond, to include his small shanty where he lived "off theland" for several years. It wasboth interesting and enlightening - definitely time well-spent.

As for therun, itself, it showcased much of Boston and was a race with both an urban andan historical flavor. It starteddowntown on the waterfront at the Seaport World Trade Center, but then snakedthrough the city between glitzy, modern skyscrapers and past old quarters wheretaverns have stood for three centuries. It also followed the Charles River past MIT to Harvard Square with itsIvy League history. It was a very goodrun, with good support along the way, and lots of spectators. After the race wemade a special stop - courtesy of Karen's particular interest - which you willimmediately recognize. We visited thebirthplace and first home of John F. Kennedy. When we arrived we learned it was his birthday! The Park Service was celebrating with freeadmission to the home and birthday cake in the back. It was actually a worthwhile stop.

One othernote concerning the race and our visit; we had exceptional Rachel care. She stayed with Amy Eyring, who is Pres.Eyring's daughter-in-law, and had a great time. After the race, we went to church with them, visited the Boston Templeand were her guests for a wonderful Sunday evening and dinner to cap off theday (it was also Amy's birthday), with Camille and her husband Dave joining us. Amy's husband, Matt, was in Utah with his sonat a Jimmer Fredette basketball camp, so we didn't meet him, but it was adelightful family and visit.

I think it issafe to say that history - of any kind - was not one of my favorite subjects asI went through school. However, over theyears I have come to enjoy reading books on history - and every once in awhile- have had the good fortune and remarkable experience of it coming alive. The academic then becomes much more thanpages in a book - the people more real - and the places indeed hallowedground. Such was our experience as wevisited Massachusetts for Boston's Run to Remember - and the chance to giveRevolutionary Running a whole new meaning.

Pick up abook and read something about our history. Better yet, follow it up with a visit. You might find it amazing where and how our history was made and ourfutures shaped.

PROFESSIONAL TRIATHLETE??

2011-09-25T09:21:00.021-06:00

Do you have a bucket list? Is it something you just think about occasionally or is it actually written down somewhere? And assuming you have one and know where it is, what have you checked off recently? I have a bucket list - and most of the time I know where it is - although mine seems to get longer all the time. However, something that has been on mine for a long time was a triathlon. After some persuasion from coworkers (coupled with a bit of a break in half-marathon training), I signed up for the Saratoga Springs Triathlon. It was a Sprint, mind you (generally the shortest type), but it was nonetheless a triathlon. It was on August 20th. Despite what I considered a pretty miserable swim in Utah Lake (600 meters) and losing my chain and crashing on my bike about halfway into the 12-mile ride, I even placed! I was third of 12 male finishers 50 and over - and I won $15! Okay, it hardly qualifies as "winnings" , since it only paid for a third of the wetsuit I rented and didn't even use during the event, but does that make me a professional? I'll assume for the moment it doesn't, but it was a pleasant surprise.

Possessing absolutely NO competitive instincts or traits, I quickly signed up for another one - the second one being three weeks later in Stansbury Park ( just north of Tooele). I really felt I needed to redeem myself a bit for the swim and was certain I wouldn't repeat the bike chain and crash scenario. Well - the results were mixed. I actually managed to finish 2nd of six in my age group (M55-59), but felt just as unsatisfied about my swim. At least I didn't crash during the bike ride - I just lost my chain twice! Apparently, I am a reasonably competitive runner when it comes to triathlons (and old men) - and that helped considerably in both races.

Despite some dissatisfaction with my performance and results, I don't necessarily feel the urge to do another one anytime soon. Besides, I have a number of half-marathons in the next few months and they take precedence. However, I do feel I learned a few things - should I decide to do another one someday - if for no other reason than to validate my belief that I really am a decent swimmer!
First, I was reminded that swimming is GREAT exercise and a great addition to a training plan. I wish it were a bit easier to do that consistently. I admit, I still get winded pretty quickly in the pool, but I also learned "pool" swimming is much different than in "open" water when you are competing with dozens of sets of legs, arms, feet and hands for the same piece of water! And finesse swimming (with as little wasted movement as possible) just means you'll drink a lot of lake water. Much more important during the triathlon is getting your head out of the water to see and reduce water intake! (I did come up with a good analogy to a triathlon swim start, though - imagine a pond where large fish are occasionally fed; when the food is thrown in there is this mass swirling of fish climbing all over each other going after the food. Yes...that is pretty accurate! And whereas the first two triathlons I hung back and got behind everyone so I had fewer feet and arms in my face - I think next time I'll jump out front.) I was also reminded that when using bicycle toe clips (or equivalent), it really is a good idea to take your feet out of them before stopping! Yeah - I have crash wounds to remind me of that. And finally, despite feeling like you have leaden legs when starting to run after the bike ride - and feeling like you could hardly go slower - there is a good chance you are moving right along. I found that especially on the first Tri. I didn't feel quite as bad on the second, but managed to have (for me) a really good pace both times.

One item checked off my bucket list. The motivation to do another would be if Karen or other family decided they wanted to do one and we did one together. (And perhaps Buggy is ready for a reprise?! I now appreciate her efforts up at Jordanelle much better.) Never say never! Who knows, there may be another $15 out there waiting to be claimed!

BETWEEN PALMETTO AND FLAMENCO!

2011-09-17T17:15:00.000-06:00

Blogger's Note: This blog was written for publication in May, but we lost access to our pictures for several months. It is published now - a few months late - but with no less enthusiasm for the subject!

Trivia question of the day: What is the difference between Palmetto and Flamenco? If you guessed 3000 miles, $12 and an Air Force C5 cargo plane, I would give you credit. And in that question and answer you have the Readers' Digest version of our April travel to Charleston, SC, and the Andalusia region of southern Spain. Since the European portion of the trip was bookended by the Palmetto State, I'll begin there with a blog that - uncharacteristically - has virtually nothing to do with running. Aware of Buggy and Topher's planned move to Charleston, we booked flights to visit them last fall - thinking at the time we could be among the first visitors at their new home. Alas, we didn't succeed at being among the first visitors - but we nonetheless had a great visit with the new residents of the Palmetto State - who were already exhibiting gracious southern hospitality and charm. Buggy, Topher and Grace were wonderful hosts and gave us a great overview of their new city in the five or six days we spent with them. We were treated to tours of historic downtown, southern plantation gardens, Fort Sumter (and some fascinating, albeit tragic, Civil War history), local parks, the beach and southern comfort cooking, most notably the Hominy Grill. We were very impressed by everything we saw and did - and particularly with their new home on Mountain Laurel Circle. It is QUITE a change from Carriage Crossing in Bountiful - with a great yard, quiet, green neighborhood, and complete with a pool, clubhouse and their own alligators, which make regular, but unannounced visits at the local ponds! We enjoyed luxury B&B accommodations on the second floor of their estate - and left convinced that we probably needed to plan another visit before our next scheduled trip there in December. Part of their hospitality was exhibited in helping us with the adventure of military Space-A travel. Knowing that the Charleston military base had regular flights to Europe - and quite frequently passenger seats available on them - we had planned TWO potential trips. The first would be 4-5 day visit to Charleston; the second would insert a 7-10 day trip to Spain in the mix. (Italy was our initial choice, but Charleston has virtually no flights there, but pretty regular flights to Rota, Spain, near the southern tip of the Iberian Peninsula. Many of you will remember a few Space-A "adventures" we have had - and this was not unlike previous trips. On our first attempt to catch a flight we thought we were successful. The flight had seats; we claimed three of them, had our boarding passes and had boarded the plane and even gotten the military version of the pre-flight safety briefings....only to learn 45 minutes later that maintenance issues were going to require the plane to fly to Massachusetts first - and without passengers. Buggy and Topher consented to pick the disappointed travelers up and we spent another day or two with them before we had a second chance - which was successful - leaving Charleston Saturday evening and arriving in Spain early Sunday morning - after a bumpy, sleepless night. However, for $4/person (the cost of a box lunch) - complaining would be the height of ingratitude. We spent the next week in the Andalucía region of Spain - birthplace of the Flamenco and of the bullfight - not to mention the base from which Christopher Columbus sailed to the New World to claim it for Ferdinand and Isabella - the monarchs of the Spanish empire- and resident in Sevilla - the Andalucian capital. Our travel the next week took us to Sevilla twice; to one of Europe's oldest cities, Cadiz (founded probably by the Phoenicians a thousand years or so BC); Gibraltar - a surprisingly large and vibrant English city on the Rock across the Straits of Gibraltar from North Africa - and home of the Gibraltar Apes, the only members of this species native to Europe; Grenada and the Alhambra - one of the seven man-made wonders of the world - and an amazingly beautiful fortress, palace and garden established by the Moors during their rule in southern Spain; the Alpujarras region of the Sierra Nevada mountains, where ancient cities cling to mountainsides and traditions nearly as old still flourish; and to a string of Andalucian towns that epitomize the region - glistening and whitewashed on hilltops, with narrow, crooked streets of cobblestone never meant for vehicle traffic, but which have outlived countless generations of residents and that bedevil any motorist venturing into them. The day before we returned to the US, we visited Jerez to observe a Spanish equestrian show rivaling the Lipizzaner stallions of Vienna in precision, acrobatic ability and horsemanship. We topped off the night there with dinner and a flamenco show in a small restaurant tucked away on a crooked, ageless street in the back-alley maze of the city. The artistry and especially the footwork were unbelievable. Coincidentally, our time in Spain was the week before Easter and the time of the biggest and most celebrated festival of Andalucía - Semana Santa. We were able to observe religious parades (weather permitting) virtually every night that brought hundreds of thousands of residents into the streets. Parades included bands, cloaked and uncloaked walkers and the massive human-carried floats of the Virgin Mary and Christ. (Of note, the cloaks were of several colors and included tall, pointed hats - and wherever the color was white, it was eerily similar to the typical KKK attire!)
It seems such trips leave indelible and lasting images - and such was the case with Spain. Our experiences with the Gibraltar Apes, standing on our tiny balcony in Grenada looking directly down on a narrow street lined with thousands as the Semana Santa processions went by, observing - almost reverently - the Moorish arches and incredible stucco-work design of the Alhambra and the Royal Palace in Sevilla, the footwork of the Flamenco dancers, and the courtyards behind the steel-trellis gates of residences that have stood for centuries along the narrow, crooked alleys of cities that Columbus could have visited before he set sail for the New World - are all such images. And - as is frequently the case with such trips - would beckon us to return. Our return trip from Spain was a smooth one - but illustrated a planning principle not to be forgotten. Whereas I had done the research to know Charleston had frequent outbound flights to Spain - I had not tested my assumption that they would have an equal number returning. Unfortunately, we learned they had virtually NO trips from Rota back to Charleston - but rather flew from there to Germany, Dover (Delaware) and Norfolk VA. We ended up in Norfolk early on Easter morning, were able to rent a car and made the 5-6 hour drive to Charleston almost in time for church! An Easter story and Easter egg hunt for Gracie and Rachel capped off the day. Monday's trips to the local parks and beach capped off the trip, as we were forced to return to Utah and reality on Tuesday.
A great visit with Buggy, Topher and Grace - and an incredible trip to Spain - what is not to recommend? We've already alerted the Andersen's that we will be back - and that they should plan to fly with us on our next Charleston-based Space-A adventure. In the meantime - we highly commend Charleston and Buggy's B&B to you. You will not be disappointed. And even if you don't see Flamenco, you just might come back knowing about the Civil War significance of the Palmetto.
Thank you Buggy, Topher and Gracie for a great trip!

CORNHUSKER RUNNING

2011-06-09T21:15:00.016-06:00

In the grand scheme of things, have you ever been engaged in a worthwhile and enjoyable project – but as part of it needed to go somewhere or do something that you really couldn’t get excited about? Welcome to Nebraska! It IS a state – and even one of the 50 states, but it was hard to get excited about a trip to Lincoln! Consequently, we planned it for a quick weekend, with no extended travel or sightseeing on our agenda. However, as has invariably been the case with such trips – it turned out to be a good one and we enjoyed our time in the Cornhusker State.

From a race support standpoint, it was among the better ones. The National Guard was a major sponsor and they did an excellent job. (Anyone wishing to be on the Guard’s traveling marathon team has to qualify in this race – and we met a number of team members, including several from Utah.) The support along the course was exceptional and this may have been the only race we have done where water and sports drinks were handed out in cups with lids and straws! It may sound like a little thing, but drinking as you run a race can be a bit messy – but not in Lincoln! The post race food was not bad, but even better was the post race party with drinks, sandwiches, pasta salad, cookies and prize giveaways. Needless to say, we did not pass up free food. The course, itself, was nothing to get excited about (don’t forget, this WAS Lincoln), but there was one very attractive and affluent residential area we ran through that was nice and the finish was at the 50-yard line in the University of Nebraska Memorial Stadium – which was fun. Neither Karen nor I set any records, but considering the two week hiatus we were in South Carolina and Spain, we were okay with the results. I was back down in the 1:45 range and tinkering with a mid-foot “barefoot” running style that was advocated in the most recent book I read: “Born to Run”. (If you think you are ready for a running book, this is one I would recommend as both interesting and informative – with even a bit of suspense!) In fact, it was in this area I had the limited “deep thoughts” associated with this race – and they dealt with habits. Having run somewhat seriously now for 20+ years, how difficult would it be to change some things about my running style if I became convinced it might make me more efficient? What would it take to convince me? What risks would be involved? Would it be worth it? You may have heard people refer to a “runner’s high”. I have always felt a bit cheated in this area, as I’m not sure I’ve ever experienced one. Is it because my running is inefficient? It became apparent that habit, history and routine can be difficult obstacles to overcome – but certainly not insurmountable. Where – besides running – might the effort be merited?

Our sightseeing was confined to the area between Omaha and Lincoln. In Omaha we spent some time dining and strolling in the Old Market and we enjoyed a visit to Boys’ Town. The latter has a very interesting history and story – made famous by Spencer Tracy’s Oscar-winning portrayal of Father Flanagan in the 1938 movie “Boys Town

”. In Lincoln, Old Market became the Haymarket, where we enjoyed wandering around among shops and eateries.

We enjoyed a great tour of the State Capitol – a unique building housing the only unicameral state legislature in the country. We also wandered around the University of Nebraska campus – although we weren’t overly impressed.

(That was especially the case with me and their bowling alley. We were their only patrons for a couple of games so got special lights and music – but I shall quickly forget the disastrous results!) On the way back to Omaha we drove across a section (one of many, no doubt) of prairie and cornfields-in-waiting, and also along a piece of the Mormon and Oregon trail on the Platte River. All in all, it was a good race and trip – although should we go again, western Nebraska will be on the agenda.

Star Valley Half-Marathon Preparation

2011-04-30T09:19:00.002-06:00

It sounds like the upcoming Star Valley Half-Marathon is becoming quite a family affair! In addition to Karen and me, Emily and Jared have now registered and apparently a number of Jared's family are also planning to participate in the event. Do we have any other takers?

As I think I have mentioned to you, this will be a race to remember for a number of reasons - not only will it be run in a very scenic location, but in memory of of an individual who both Emily and have I (very different) ties to. Jeremy Kunz is the runner who was killed near Emily's house while running the Las Vegas Ragnar relay a couple of years ago; he is also the son of Bart and Denice Kunz. Bart was a close missionary friend of mine in Germany over 35 years ago.

Are there a few others of you ready to sign up and participate? If you register by the end of the day,you are entered in a couple of drawings that the race is sponsoring. How about all of us in Star Valley after the reunion?

Run to remember!

A RUNNING START

2011-03-13T19:45:00.011-06:00

(18 November 2006)
Its not always easy to identify exactly where and when something started. For example, can you tell me when you had your first glass of Oreos and milk? Or perhaps when you bit your fingernails for the first time? Or even when or where you ran your first race? I have no idea when I ran my first competitive road race, nor could I tell you when Karen and I ran together for the first time. But if you get a bit more specific, sometimes you can pin it down. I DO know when Karen and I ran our first half-marathon together. We had enjoyed running together for quite some time, but during her pregnancy with Rachel, it was a convenient excuse not to run - as was the case for a month or two thereafter. However, when she realized she wasn't getting her weight back to pre-Rachel levels very quickly, she decided a running goal might help. And so we registered for the Valley of Fire State Park Half-Marathon. And on Saturday, 18 November 2006, we ran our first Half together. It was an inauspicious event, but looking back, quite a Running Start.

We would have been hard pressed to pick a better event to start running Half-marathons together. The course - though not without some significant hills - was in a spectacular setting of red rock and desert; it was a pretty small, intimate event that was reasonably well-supported; the weather was great; we were pretty well-prepared; and we had family (Alysia) with us to help us with Rachel.
(Thanks, Buggy! You got us off to a good start, even if we were so fast you missed our finish!) Notwithstanding the lame pasta dinner the night before, or even the rather run-down accommodations in a declining resort on Lake Mead for a couple of nights, we completed the goal we set out to do - probably even doing better than we might have expected (Karen finished second in her age group).
And little did we realize what we had set in motion. (Is there some saying about "humble beginnings"?)
I suspect I (we) have logged close to 5000, if not 6000 running miles since that event. There have been races across the country and even in foreign ones. But it started somewhere - in this case in the Valley of Fire. And that would be the message of this race and this event. Whatever we do - and whenever we do it - it is a step somewhere, in some direction. We may not know today where that step will take us, but taking it with commitment, purpose and with an effort worthy of who we are, will always be to our advantage - and just may make much more of a difference than we would ever imagine.

And in case you are wondering - why this blog now? I need to catch up on those early, pre-blogging, events to complete the record - and to really provide A RUNNING START.

NEW AGE Running

2011-03-05T21:22:00.025-07:00

What runner isn’t interested in a (legal) energy boost before running a race? Typically that means pre-race carbo loading, getting lots of rest and tapering the training leading up to the event. Unless, of course, your race happens to be in Sedona, Arizona – one of the world’s New Age centers and home of more than one well-known vortex! And what, might you ask is a vortex? (At least I had to ask.) Although science has its own definition, New Age practitioners take that definition a bit further in describing “swirling centers of subtle energy coming from the surface of the earth”. Since most of the Sedona vortexes are reasonably accessible, we reasoned we ought to take advantage of one and took the short walk up onto a red-rock ridge to experience the “Airport Vortex”.
I can assure you the view was spectacular. As for having the “required, but normally present” sensitivity to feel and absorb the energy – well, perhaps race results would be a better indicator.
Sedona is truly a beautiful and eclectic place. The scenery is spectacular – combining desert landscapes with gorgeous red rock buttes, towers and cliffs, along with chalky ridges and mountains nearly surrounding the area. The city is a place that has exponentially grown in the last few decades and now sprawls between and among the red rocks.
It also boasts more New Age practitioners and businesses than you are likely to find any place else, to include palm readers, spiritual advisors, vortex tours, UFO centers and other self-awareness enterprises. (We admit to visiting a UFO business and the aforementioned vortex, but only photographed some of the others mentioned.)

The trip ended up being among our favorites. The race was run on a spectacular course through the red-rock country, the weather was great and we enjoyed our visit to Sedona – to include several really good (fairly traditional) meals and some hiking. Bookending the trip were visits with Emily in Las Vegas (to include the Cirque du Soleil show, “Ka”, which was pretty incredible) and time at Hoover Dam on the front end; and a drive through Oak Canyon, and a stop at the South Rim of the Grand Canyon on the return. We were powerfully reminded of the amazing grandeur of the Lord’s creations. It still takes my breath away.

Another factor contributing to the success of the trip was being able to enjoy it with Karen’s brother, Tom. He flew into Las Vegas and drove to Sedona with us – running the full marathon, rather than our wimpy Half. He is pursuing the same 50-State goal as we are, but with the full marathon. This was our third race with him (and his first visit to the Grand Canyon) – and we have enjoyed them all!

But back to the race. What did the Airport Vortex do for me? Before sharing my own assessment, there are a couple of things worth knowing about the course. First – it was VERY challenging. There were a number of significant, extended hills – to include a long one from mile 12 to mile 13 (which should be illegal). Contributing to the challenge was the elevation. Although only at 4500’, which is about where we live and train, we seldom run races at that elevation. Second – this was an early season race, meaning the training leading up to it was limited. With that information out there, certainly no PR was expected. And none was achieved. I felt I ran a good race, but my pace – even after the vortex – was about 45 seconds per mile slower than my time last year in Fargo ND (where, to the best of my knowledge, there is no vortex). The moral of this story? You might be better served by ensuring the training and preparation are consistent with the goals. In my case, they were – but I will admit the vortex was an interesting concept – and I would not hesitate to go back to Sedona. However, hiking and scenery and more time in Oak Creek Canyon would be the draw.

In an attempt to make the length of my blog rival that of Dacia’s regular tomes, there is one additional thought to share from this race. On a couple of the final hills it is accurate to say that I was dragging. They were tough! In those moments, the beauty of the area I was running through was not foremost on my mind – until I caught myself. Despite fatigue, it was still WOW! I couldn’t help but think how often we do the same in life. Invariably, there is beauty all around – but how easily and often do we miss it? I believe New Age thinking promotes self-awareness – and maybe that is a good thing, in moderation. However, I am far from a New Age advocate, but can still offer this nugget: Don’t let the occasional drudgery and demands of life make you miss the beauty that is there to be seen. And don’t run so fast that you miss it, either!

BREAKTHROUGH!

2011-03-02T22:28:00.004-07:00

On Tuesday, March 1^st, at approximately 9:10 p.m., at the Lehi Legacy Center, I achieved a major breakthrough – not only in the storied annals of my running history, but in the demonstration of my ageless technological savvy!

After inserting a white cable into a green unit and placing speaker buds in my ears – and then after some experimentation to find a way to turn the unit on – there was music!! In fact, there was very LOUD music – so loud as to be definitely detrimental to my hearing. On the brink of a failed experiment I spied two young ladies who, most certainly, knew the secret of volume control. With the curl of a finger, they solved the mystery for me and off I ran – rocking to the sounds of the Lion King!

An hour later, I removed the buds from my ears and eventually figured out how to turn the unit off. I had listened to everything from piano concertos, to Men from the Tabernacle Choir, to Disney to excerpts from a How to Build Wealth book. I had done the IPOD!!

Okay – I admit it took me a couple of weeks to get this far. I also acknowledge my selection of music or content (let’s see, would that be a playlist?) left something to be desired. I’ll even confess I didn’t solve the ear bud cord tension issue. But hey – I ran with my IPOD. Is that a breakthrough, or what?? And for the most part, I thought it was pretty nice and may have helped the time go by a bit quicker which, given the objective of 52 laps in the gym, was indeed welcome. Give me another 24 months and, no doubt, I’ll get to the bottom of the other issues!

Who says you can’t teach an old dog new tricks?

(Now, if I can just remember where I put it when I got back from the gym last night…)

ENCHANTED RUNNING?

2011-02-05T23:01:00.018-07:00

There is something to be said for intuition. Although men aren’t generally given much credit for this capability, I would venture to say that women don’t have a monopoly on it – which isn’t to say we always act on it correctly. Our most recent race may illustrate this. Since late last summer or early fall, I had been looking for an alternative race in New Mexico, since the planned race in Albuquerque now appeared to conflict with opportunities in Canada that we wanted to take advantage of.

The only race I could find was a new one – the Las Cruces Half-Marathon – but information was scarce. It was being sponsored by a group out of Florida that appeared to have its priorities elsewhere. The website was inaccurate and incomplete, maps weren’t available, and there did not appear to be local contacts.
This situation continued into the fall – when most people interested in running a race from out of the area want much more definitive information. My inquiries were generally answered very unsatisfactorily, although I ultimately was convinced that there would, at least, be a race on that weekend, in that city. Intuition prompted me to pass on it – since planning was obviously subpar – but schedule realities won out and off to New Mexico we went.

Our fears weren’t allayed when we arrived at the pre-race “expo” to pick up our packets and get final instructions. There was a table or two, a couple of people giving out packets and shirts and a big sign that read “Volunteers Needed”! The next morning the weather actually looked promising for the run – and there were even busses taking people to the starting line; unfortunately, they were also taking people running the shorter race, who should have started elsewhere. Organization at the start line was what we had expected (little or none) and until they lined us up at some tape they had put up, we didn’t even know which way we would be running. The starting gun was replaced by someone saying “Go” and off we went!

Surprisingly, support ON the course was reasonably good – there was plenty of water and fluid, but as we reached the halfway point, the course turned into a gravel road on a levee beside the Rio Grande River – something which had not been advertised or expected. Later, we ran some tracks across plowed fields as we approached the final stretch towards the stadium – and pavement again! (Don’t forget – runners are a bit anal when it comes to expectations. Tell us about something so we expect it, and we are okay, but when we expect something different it’s one of those “mental” things.)

Post-race food was actually decent and while partaking of some pizza and other offerings, I even learned I had placed first in my age group for the race. (Okay – the field wasn’t huge – only 264 finishers in the half-marathon and five in my age category – but first place is first place!) That prompted us to stay for the awards ceremony. One age group before they got to mine – they ran out of awards – so we left with our finishers’ medals and the validation of my intuition that the race wasn’t going to be put on very well.

Should I have listened to my intuition? When everything is said and done, we completed the race and we checked off New Mexico and State #44. And the trip, itself, turned out to be a good one. Las Cruces lies about 45 minutes north of El Paso so we flew in there and after a disappointing Mexican dinner that night had a great visit the next day to a small, relatively unknown National Park – Guadalupe Mountains – on the Texas, NM border. It is an impressive range with some beautiful desert and mountain landscapes. We did a 4-5 mile hike into Devil’s Hall and the Hikers’ staircase, a natural stone stairway in the bottom of the canyon and thoroughly enjoyed it.

We spent the next morning exploring Carlsbad Caverns (also a National Park) and were equally impressed. The size of the underground rooms is truly unbelievable until seen – and the cave formations were great. There was a loop trail over a mile in length just going around ONE of the huge caverns.

After the race on Saturday we visited White Sands National Monument – with beautiful white silica sand and dunes – and enjoyed sledding down the dunes and a beautiful sunset. We had borrowed sleds from the local bishop, whose wife watched Rachel for us during the race. Getting acquainted with their family was also very enjoyable. A highlight in Las Cruces was an old Spanish Plaza in Mesilla, with street vendors, small shops, and restaurants.

New Mexico is known as the Land of Enchantment. Although I wouldn’t rate the race that way, our small slice of south central New Mexico lived up to its billing. It is not likely a place we would want to live, but has much to offer visitors, including lots of outdoor activity options and an enticing climate to enjoy them in with lots of sun, pleasant winters and summers that are not as hot as you might expect. So where does that leave us when it comes to intuition? I guess I’ll continue to let women run with it!

RUNNING BRITISH COLUMBIAN CHARM - ON 10-10-10!

2010-12-19T22:56:00.016-07:00

Are there places you would gladly go back to? Places that left indelible impressions – for any number of reasons? They may not have been the most scenic, the most historic, the most exotic or even the best bargain – but visits there were charmed – and the locations beckon back.

There are many locations I would gladly go back to – and one of those got a return trip in early October as Karen and I ran the Royal Victoria Half-Marathon on Vancouver Island, British Columbia.

As races go, this wasn’t the most scenic – although certainly pretty with a start in the stately, English heart of the city and with a route that traversed Victoria’s harbor, the island’s coastline with the imposing Olympic Range across the Strait of Juan de Fuca and that passed through the Beacon Hill Park with its gorgeous flowers and gardens – even in October. It certainly wasn’t the biggest – although with nearly 6,000 runners in the Half – it was a large race. Nor was it the race with the best logistical support throughout (to wit, a lack of porta-potties for Karen and hydration stops that were a bit far apart initially) – although it received passable grades. And it wasn’t even my fastest race – although my time was among the top five in the “Karen Era”. But the combination of everything it had to offer and the charm of BC’s Provincial Capitol were not lost upon us – and our return trip was an excellent one – indeed one that would beckon us yet again.

The ferry crossing from Tsawassen BC to the island set the stage, with the beautiful and green mountainous islands charting our course. Once on Vancouver Island, our visit extended to no more than its southernmost 15-20 miles, with pastoral landscapes of forested hills, verdant fields – including some that were totally orange with an immense harvest of pumpkins still afield – charming coastal villages, and old English charm in the center of Victoria. We enjoyed visits to Provincial Parks, regional parks atop mountains overlooking the island, the Royal BC Museum – which was most impressive with its collection of natural history and native peoples exhibits, an old English residence most resembling a castle, parks and gardens, a seaside fishing village with a renowned collection of independent booksellers, and unspoiled coastline with an charming Inn whose culinary offerings were exclusively those of the Island.

Despite the British aura of the area, even the food was good! And we were able to share part of the visit with Karen’s best friend, Teresa, who joined us with her husband and boys the day before the race and made sure Rachel was in good hands during the race. All in all, a most satisfying trip – to a destination we would highly recommend.

A trip such as this serves as a good reminder that any race is much more than a start and a finish. The route and everything along the way – indeed the journey – is what makes a race memorable. I know there have been races where I have been so focused that I have missed much of what a course had to offer.
There have also been races where what has been offered along the route was what made the race what it was – and in some cases most successful – even when viewed from the finish time. No doubt, the analogy with life is most appropriate. It is more than a quest to reach the destination – it is all about the Journey. Victoria helped us appreciate that again. Take time to smell the roses and, while you are at it, notice the color. You may be surprised.

EXPANDING THE HORIZON: RUNNING THE MAPLE LEAF

2010-10-31T17:50:00.017-06:00

With 43 States and the District of Columbia checked off – and looking at a fairly light race schedule next year – it appeared there might be a need to add a new dimension to our running goal. The Continents appeared overly ambitious (though not out of the question) – but our northern neighbor looked not only quite possible, but downright inviting. So after some deliberation, but little fanfare, Canada’s ten Provinces were added to the goal – with its major metropolitan area being the first target.

Toronto proved to be a wonderful – and surprising destination. I had always known that it was a big city, but hadn’t realized it was a HUGE city with over two-and-a-half million residents and well over 5 million in the metro area – constituting the 5^th largest metro area in North America. As such, it had everything a big city offers – to include traffic! We enjoyed a Major League baseball game in the Rogers Center with the Blue Jays hosting the Orioles;

we drove through many distinct neighborhoods with personalities of their own; we visited one of the largest Chinatowns in North America and enjoyed Chinese cuisine; we spent time on a beautiful waterfront (Lake Ontario) and the ferry to a delightful island in the Lake; we traversed two VERY “high-rent” neighborhoods and were duly impressed;

we visit the St. Lawrence market – where you could buy just about anything and everything; and we strolled through the city enjoying shops, stately government buildings – to include the Provincial Capitol, and the trappings of a very cosmopolitan and international city. Oh….and by the way – we also ran a half-marathon!

As races go, it was a big one and a good one. There were over 20,000 runners in the various races, including about 8,000 in the half. Race logistics were good, the course was flat and fast, and featured both waterfront and the city center. I had my best time since my hamstring issues in South Dakota – so was grateful to be able to really run again. The post race food wasn’t the greatest, but the finisher’s medal was nice and, overall, it was a great start to Canada’s Provinces.

Part of the trip also included a morning in Buffalo and a night-time visit to the Canadian side of Niagara Falls. Buffalo’s downtown had some impressive buildings and views and a similarly pretty waterfront along Lake Erie.

Niagara Falls at night is quite different than in the day – but still quite a sight with colored illumination and the mists. However, we felt like we were driving down the Strip when we entered the Canadian city of Niagara Falls! Lights, glitz and excess – they had it all!

And to make the night complete – after our visit the US Border Control didn’t want to let us back in the US! We were stopped at the border, ordered to place our hands on the dash and steering wheel in plain view, then escorted out of our car – by a squad of armed agents to the “facility” where we were separated and had to wait nearly an hour until they had determined that MY Karen Johnson wasn’t the Canadian criminal being sought. Whew…..what a relief – and just when I was getting worried about those unaccounted for years!

Okay – to the “thoughtful” nature of this post. First – it’s nice to know your wife isn’t a criminal. Beyond that, it became apparent to me during this race – as it has on occasion before – that we are creatures of habit. We grow accustomed to certain routines and when we are taken out of those, it can impact us – often adversely. In a “runner’s world” our habits can dictate our outlook. We prepare for races a certain way; our pre-race night needs to follow a certain pattern; our race-morning must play out according to schedule; our pre-race “eliminations” need to happen; and during the race we expect certain things for pacing, for hydration, for breathing and for who knows how many other things. One of those little things in Toronto was learning that the course didn’t have mile markers, but rather kilometer markings. Suddenly, my world was upside down! As it turns out, it’s an easy system to pace to – once you are expecting it. There has to be a lesson there – and I think it has to do with flexibility and adjustment – and figuring out a way to not get flustered when we think we have “lost control.”

Our foray into Canada was a great one. We are looking forward to the next nine Provinces under the banner of the Maple Leaf – which just happens to be the name of Toronto’s National Hockey League team – the Toronto Maple Leafs.

RUNNING: A Team Sport? Again??

2010-10-03T17:26:00.014-06:00

Let’s start with what should be a very obvious equation: Sleep deprivation + Exhaustion = No Fun, and only if I’m compensated handsomely! So how did the equation, in reality, look like this? Sleep deprivation + Exhaustion + “Been There, Done That” = I will even PAY to do it again! Such was the case three weeks ago as I joined 11 other runners (all young enough to be my kids) with short memories to run the Red Rock Relay again. Neither Karen nor I had planned to run the Red Rock this year – but when I got a call two weeks before the race from a team (The Rabid Squirrels) that included several we ran this with last year – and who had lost a runner due to injury – I wasn’t overly difficult to persuade.

As was the case last year, the relay was a 24-hour, 186-mile long run, starting at Brian Head ski resort. However, much of the course was changed from last year. It stayed in the high country south and east of Brian Head much longer. That is where our van (#2, which included 3 people we ran with last year) started, at nearly 10,000’. We went down Cedar Canyon to Cedar City, west across the desert to Enterprise, south through the Bull Mountains and Snow Canyon (in the dark, unfortunately) to St. George, and then east to Springdale where it ended against the spectacular canyon walls of the entrance to Zion National Park.

By the end of my third leg on Saturday morning, with it getting very warm, and after an unexpected steep trail section and over 17 miles – I was glad to be finished. However, I suspect I could be “persuaded” to do it again. There is something about the camaraderie, the format, and the challenge that breeds excitement and, ultimately satisfaction. I’m not certain my sentiments would have been the same, had you asked me during my second leg at 2:30 Saturday morning, after already running hills for over half an hour – but the adrenaline is real and with only 2-3 hours of intermittent sleep – all of us were ready for the final leg.

Luckily, after a great Mexican meal, I got a nap and then met Karen in St. George, who had agreed to come down with me – spending a day-and-a-half with Emily and the boys while I ran.
We enjoyed a production of Gershwin’s Crazy for You at Tuacahn that night (I even stayed awake). On Sunday we met Emily and the boys at Valley of Fire, where we had lunch and got Rachel back before heading home. Notwithstanding 17 miles and little sleep, it was another great weekend.

Running was always a very individual and personal activity for me. I loved the time to think, to de-tress and to stay active. However, I’ve learned over the past 6-8 years, that it isn’t ALWAYS just an individual thing. Running with Karen (and Rachel, for that matter) has provided a new dimension. It’s breathed new life into a hobby; it’s provided incentive to stick with it, to stay healthy and to find new challenges. I will always enjoy “my time” while running, but am blessed and happy to frequently “share the run”. I’m looking forward to making some form of running my “trademark” with the Grandkids – and I’m looking forward to running with my kids in the not too distant future – but in a relatively distant place! Are you ready, Team Johnson?? There is less than 16 months to post!

RUNNING THE LAST FRONTIER (and barely seeing it)

2010-09-05T21:33:00.023-06:00

Last month in Montana we ran in Big Sky Country. In Alaska, it was going to be even grander – Big Everything Country – the magnitude and majesty of the mountains, the solitude of wilderness, the vastness of open space, the ice fields and the unending vistas.

No doubt, Alaska has earned every one of those superlatives. However, for us on this trip, it validated a couple of other appropriate adjectives: mysterious and inaccessible.

In ten days, we caught occasional (albeit infrequent) glimpses of the sun; saw a couple of small patches of blue sky; had some tantalizing (but nonetheless impressive) images of peaks and mountains; wore rain gear quite a bit; and drove across vast plains shrouded in clouds, mist and fog. None of this should imply the trip was not a good one – but if you’ve tasted something heavenly, and there just isn’t enough to satisfy the hunger and desire – that is the feeling we had as we tried to chase pockets of blue sky and misguided weather forecasts across south central Alaska.

Along the way, we DID see some beautiful waterfalls and cascades, magnificent glaciers – to include one calving huge chunks of ice into a fjord, and abundant marine wildlife, to include a pod of orcas, porpoises, harbor seals, Stellar sea lions, sea otters and birds of many feathers and colors. We also saw black bears with multiple cubs, moose with smaller “moosettes”, mountain sheep, caribou and bald eagles – and we kayaked on a glacial lake choked with icebergs the size of fortresses – exploring ice caves and canyons along the way. Indeed, Alaska remains the Last Frontier. There will always be more – just beyond your reach.

As for the race, it was a success. There wasn’t anything particularly remarkable about it, but it was a good course (part of it run along Cook Inlet and in the fog), with a few rolls to keep a person honest and a few twists and turns to make you wonder if you missed something. It was logistically pretty well-supported and there were a couple of running legends on-hand (specifically Jeff Galloway and Bart Yasso).

The post-race food was hardly a feast, but the bread was good. I didn’t try to push the pace due to my recent hamstring issues, but still finished well ahead of what I had been able to do in Montana and was grateful that the hamstring still felt pretty good after the race.

During the race we had our very own, personal race photographer. Kathi took pictures at the start and then captured us at multiple points along the course and again (at least for Karen) at the end. We also had a very good visit and road trip with her for a week and thoroughly enjoyed her hospitality – with salmon and halibut being featured items on our post-race meal.

During the trip she became somewhat of an “Outdoors Mentor” for Rachel, telling her about plants and animals and the Alaskan traditions. They established some excellent rapport and it was amazing some of the things Rachel retained! Also enjoyed time with Nub and Kami and were able to visit with Kristen, Phil and their other kids on Sunday afternoon.

As for my “thoughts” for this post – I am again reminded of the importance of expectations. They shape our sentiments and our assessments of events. Where we expect much the bar is higher for feeling an event was a success. Where we expect little, we may not often be disappointed – but we may also need to examine where the bar was set – or if it was even used. I think the analogy has application in many aspects of our lives and families. True, there are events beyond our control (Alaska weather to be sure). Also true, we can adjust our expectations to keep them aligned with reality – without sacrificing goals, standards and aspirations.

We’ve run the Last Frontier, but suspect it may yet beckon us again. Until then, we’ll be looking for blue skies and sunshine for our next trip!

JOGGING UNDER A BIG SKY

2010-07-18T16:47:00.014-06:00

In road races – even relatively long ones – 30 minutes is a lot of time. So when you add 30 minutes to a race time from one race to the next – over the same distance – you have to figure something is going on. Perhaps the race was run at 10,000’ or was one grueling hill after another. Or perhaps the race had so many participants that it wasn’t possible to run much at all. Or – when none of those apply – perhaps it was a serious case of a hamstring not willing to cooperate. In Montana last week, I will have to claim the latter.
On a beautiful morning to run – and starting in a beautiful location along the hills, through the forest, along a river with meadows stretching to one side, and even slightly downhill, the most I could muster was a slow jog – and even that was after walking much of the first mile and into the second. I guess my left hamstring decided I should enjoy this race more by spending more time on the course. After getting a new perspective on half-marathons by watching the vast majority of the participants pass me and by wondering how quickly I could walk the course, I was able to start jogging during Mile 2 and kept jogging to the end – even speeding up through the middle miles of the race. I never caught Karen, but at least I finished and together we hung our medals and checked off State #42 in the process.

I think that Montana’s nickname is confirmed every time I visit. It really DOES have a big sky – it is just a BIG state – and a beautiful one at that. We flew into and out of Spokane and drove I-90 between there and Missoula. Enroute we had a very nice stop in Couer d’Alene, to include a 90-minute boat ride on the lake. Neither of us had ever spent time there and we know now what we have missed and would love to visit again.

And the drive over Lookout Pass from there into Montana and along the Clark Fork is not to be missed. Missoula had its own western charm and retained lots of country, smaller-town traits that made it nice. We didn’t get to spend nearly as much time in the area as we would have liked, but enjoyed what we had.

On the way back to Spokane we rented bikes at Lookout Pass and rode the 15-mile Route of the Hiawatha, which is a converted railroad grade that goes through 10 tunnels (including one that is nearly 2 miles long) and over 7 high, old railroad trestles. It was a great ride in some beautiful scenery and certainly a highlight among any bikes rides we have done in the past.

During the trip we spent two nights with Scott and Linda in Spokane and had a nice visit with them. We were extremely grateful that Linda agreed to watch Rachel while we drove over to Missoula and back and they apparently got along well. In Spokane we also spent some time at Riverfront Park, site of the World Expo in Spokane a few years back.

All in all, another memorable trip – even if Jogging was all I could do under Montana’s Big Sky.

RUNNING THE BLACK HILLS

2010-06-27T19:42:00.022-06:00

I have occasionally heard rumblings about my blogs being long – which I have typically ignored. However, if this one turns out to be shorter than normal, thank Dacia. She provided a very nice account of our trip to South Dakota – and, with a few exceptions, very accurate. The only thing she didn’t say much about was the race – so I’ll start there.

When we pick our races we look for good organization and reports, places we haven’t been before, and, most of all – a pretty, scenic course. This might be downtown Chicago along Lake Michigan or, more likely, in a scenic area of mountains, lakes, red rock formations, forests or vistas.

Several stand out, among them Estes Park, Valley of Fire, Canyonlands, Traverse City and the Adirondack (but there are many more). We can now add another to the list: The Mickelson Trail in the Black Hills of South Dakota.

The Deadwood Mickelson Trail race immediately appealed to us based on the course comments and the scenery. It did not disappoint. The trail follows an abandoned railroad grade through the heart of the Black Hills.

It has forests, meadows, lakes, mountains and vistas, not to mention that for the half-marathoners, 12 of the 13 miles were downhill (although at 5200’-6200’ in elevation)! The race and trail ended in Deadwood – known in its day as a lawless mining town and where “Wild Bill” Hickok was gunned down and laid to rest – now next to Calamity Jane – also of Deadwood fame.

Now a restored tourist town, it was fun and I had perhaps the best prime rib I have ever tasted at the Buffalo Saloon and Steakhouse. But back to the race, it was well-organized and supported, with a good Expo and pretty good post-race food. It would easily have been another PR for me – probably by 20-30 seconds – if not for a tweaked hamstring in the last mile which stopped me momentarily and definitely slowed me down the rest of the way. But that notwithstanding, it was a great race and setting.

It was also great to have Dacia and Ellie with us. (She indicated she backed out of a previous race; she was right about the Disney World part, but the race was in Mississippi, not Georgia.)

One particularly pleasant surprise from this race was trip planning. I invariably do that (out of necessity) – but in this case I gave Dacia all the literature, asked her to develop a plan and coordinate it with Karen – and she ran with it!

She came up with some great ideas and we did almost all of them.

Jewel Cave, Sylvan Lake, Cathedral Spires and drive, Custer State Park, Mt. Rushmore, the alpine slide, Storybook Island and the Spearfish Canyon drive were all amazing. (I WILL take credit for the Little Devil’s Tower hike which was spectacular.)

Devil’s Tower National Monument was a great way to end – although I don’t know where Dacia came up with everything being flat around it. Not. Beautiful forests, hills and valleys surrounded it on every side – although it still “sticks out like a sore thumb” as she so eloquently put it.

Okay – so maybe this wasn’t any shorter than usual, but South Dakota, as State #41, was definitely one of our premier trips and destinations. Thanks for going with us, Dacia…..even if you didn’t do much for the “daughters’ track record” of not making it to the race until I have already finished! Thanks for the planning and it was fun having you.

Running: How FAR Can You GO?

2010-06-17T18:34:00.021-06:00

As people accumulate States in their quiver, there are, no doubt, some that are first in. As the quiver fills up I suspect there are also a few that are invariably last in. In addition to the obvious choices of Alaska, Hawaii, Vermont, Maine and maybe Mississippi – I would have to believe North Dakota is right up there. How many people have you heard telling you about their vacation plans to Bismarck? However, if you are really trying to get to all 50 states, eventually you will be headed to North Dakota. For us it turned out to be State #40. Fargo.

Since we always try to combine some sightseeing with our race trips, we began to inquire about ND and Fargo attractions a month or two before the race. As we perused the literature we got the question remained: what do we do in Fargo? We actually met a man from ND whose wife was from Fargo and thought certainly they would have some suggestions. Nope. In fact, he suggested that northern Minnesota had quite a bit to see.

As it turns out, we enjoyed Fargo. It isn’t a place to spend a week, but a day was fine. The race landed in the “good” category. It wasn’t an overly scenic course, but went through the middle of the city's historic district and visited a number of neighborhoods. It started and ended in the Fargodome, a rather impressive university and city facility for sporting events and conventions. It was fun watching yourself finish on the Jumbotron!

The race was well-supported and even had a fair number of fans out to cheer us on – despite the somewhat inclement weather. (It began raining shortly before the start and didn’t really stop until about 30 minutes into the race – definitely long enough to get us wet. Luckily, it wasn’t cold so the rain wasn’t that bad.) The course also had three other things going for it. The first two: it was very flat and the elevation was low. Those two, combined with the weather, made it a fast course, as well. I managed another “Karen-era” PR, so was quite happy about that – even if I only managed to shave 3 seconds off my previous PR. The third was a special guest - the Ultramarathon Man, Dean Karnazes - whose feats are as bewildering as they are impressive. We've read his book, wondered why he does what he does, but enjoyed meeting and talking to him for awhile. He was personable and even knows Karen's cousin and her husband - who are also part of the "ultra" group.

Since Southwest doesn’t fly within 250 miles of any part of the state, we flew into Minneapolis and were joined there by Karen’s Mom. We enjoyed the better part of a day in the Twin Cities area, to include a visit to the Mall of America – which has a Nickelodeon amusement park in it.

Rachel had a good time there and we also enjoyed some time downtown.

In North Dakota, a highlight was a half-day scenic byway through the Sheyenne River valley – probably a quintessential, rural, Midwest countryside, which was actually quite peaceful and pretty.

After the race we traveled a day and a half in northern Minnesota and were quite impressed.

It was green, hilly, forested and validated the State’s nickname: “Land of 1000 Lakes”. I have never seen so many lakes! For part of the drive you could not drive a full minute without seeing another one. Highlight lakes were Itasca (headwaters of the Mississippi River) and Bemidji, where we spent a night.

It was cool being able to see how a river the size of the Mississippi got its start – and to be able to walk across it on rocks in the stream! We got as far east as Duluth on the western tip of Lake Superior - the greatest of the Great Lakes and had a nice drive along a piece of coastline, but the fog obscured much of what we would have seen.

It was another good race and great trip – and we’ve been to North Dakota! It was also a good visit with Karen's Mom. And if you’re looking for the thoughtful nugget from Fargo – don’t let the rain ruin your day!

Running to Remember

2010-05-30T10:27:00.016-06:00

Certain events are indelibly imprinted on our minds and consciousness. The attacks of 9/11 are such events. However, before 9/11 there was the Oklahoma City bombing in April 1995. The effects and impact were devastating. We immediately assumed Middle Eastern terrorists were behind it, so imagine our surprise to learn it was perpetrated by anti-government zealots – indeed, homegrown, American terrorists. Whatever their origin, this event was seared into our collective consciousness – an unfathomable, unbelievable tragedy.

For years after the tragedy, the city attempted to heal and rebuild – while never forgetting the need to remember. Ten years ago, as part of that process, the Oklahoma City Memorial Marathon had its start – together with the opening of the National Memorial and Museum. It was a run to remember the lives lost and those forever impacted because of those lost. It was a run to remind us of the fragility of life, while embracing the hope that helped the city cope with the sorrow and anger – and eventually to heal and press forward. For Karen and me, it was a run quite unlike others we have done. It wasn’t a party – and yet it was a celebration of life. It wasn’t festive – and yet the spirit of the occasion prompted determination and accomplishment that was remarkable. For us, it was an unforgettable run and a weekend.

The course itself wasn’t particularly scenic or noteworthy; however, the pre-race remembrances, 168 seconds of silence (one for each of the lives lost in the bombing), and the setting along side the National Memorial made it truly memorable.
It went through downtown, the dining and entertainment district of Bricktown, around the State Capitol and through residential areas (some quite impressive) and business districts, before ending back at the Memorial. The weather, despite some wind, was good for running and the hills were not that serious. There were no PRs, but I was happy with my time and the training level it indicated. Perhaps, more importantly, I was very happy that we had chosen this race in Oklahoma.

Since we were childless for the weekend (many thanks to Buggy), we took advantage of our freedom to eat out two evenings in Bricktown and take in a AAA baseball game.

We also visited the very impressive National Cowboy and Western Heritage Museum, which had a collection of beautiful western art and sculpture and a fascinating exhibit on western films and TV – to include the shows, the stars and their place in American heritage. It was quite a reminder to me of how our family spent our Sunday evenings when I was growing up – and what the true film staple was of the era. It was well worth the visit.

We capped the trip off with a visit to the University of Oklahoma campus in Norman. Despite my predisposition of general distaste for that institution, it was a pretty campus with some very impressive buildings, such as a magnificent library reading room.

The highlight of the trip was the Memorial and its message. We spent considerable time on the grounds and walking through the exhibits and memorabilia. I cannot imagine it not touching a person in a very real way – especially considering the very young children whose lives were also lost in this tragedy. This was brought home poignantly as we walked through the Memorial’s rows of empty chairs following the race – looking at the pictures, flowers and memorabilia left there for the weekend. As we came to one chair and looked at the picture of a newlywed couple placed there I noticed a young woman adjacent to the chair – who looked strangely like the woman in the picture. I inquired and learned the picture was of her and her husband – married some six months ago – and that the chair was her Dad’s. She had been 14 at the time of the bombing. His was also an empty chair at their wedding. The Memorial message connected. The stories of very real people – leading very normal lives – that were shattered in an instant and the days, weeks and months that followed. The stories of the responders, the investigators and even the attorneys and, just as importantly, those who rebuilt their lives and their communities, were stories worth hearing. They are also stories worth remembering. Indeed there is much evil in the world – and it is truly unbelievable what some people will do. It is bad enough that adults are impacted, but when innocent children also perish, it is all the more tragic and senseless. Fortunately, there is still much good counteracting the evil – and that was ALSO on display following the tragedy. The thoughtful message is that we must never let down our guard and we must never forget – lest we are destined to repeat the tragedies of our history. And interestingly enough, as I ran the race I took strength from the message of the memorial and the individuals who perished in the bombing. Let us also not forget that there is strength and inspiration in our heritage.

Capitol Running

2010-04-18T22:04:00.016-06:00

There is a saying about life that “you can’t go back.” I suspect that is probably true about life – at least in most cases – and I have found that often true about travel, as well – not necessarily that you can’t go back, but that you usually don’t. You find yourself in a beautiful place, having a great time, and you want to come back. And yet, life’s commitments, time constraints and pull to unseen places often result in not coming back. However, there are exceptions. For me, one of those has been Washington, DC. I have no idea how many times I have been there, but I always enjoy the trips and am always ready to go again. With that in mind Karen and I decided that we would do a race in the District of Columbia, even though it isn’t a state. We were not disappointed.

On the 20th of March we ran the National Half-Marathon, part of the full marathon and relay that claim the distinction of being the only such races run exclusively in the District of Columbia. Race morning turned out to be almost ideal for running – quite cool, very little breeze, some humidity and early, diffused sun. The race started at the DC Armory, ran through Capitol Heights (home of many politicians and prominent business people), past the US Capitol, along the Mall past Smithsonian and other museums, the Washington Monument and the White House, then turned up through Dupont Circle and another neighborhood before circling back to Robert F. Kennedy Stadium and the Armory where we had started and then finished. Although I was fairly happy with my time, it wasn’t as fast as I might have hoped, primarily due to the congestion at the mass start of 10,000 runners on narrow streets. The first mile was an exercise in dodging runners, trying to get room to run and keeping from tripping over people.

Results notwithstanding, there is something to be said about running through our nation’s history and past the landmarks of our democracy and founding. And once free of the pack it seemed like the running was easier through the reminders of who we are.

We only had three half days, but utilized the time to see a few things again and to see some things we've never seen before. We had two splendid half-days on the Mall, with visits to the Lincoln, Jefferson and Roosevelt Memorials, as well as the war memorials for WWII, Vietnam and the Marines on Iwo Jima. Visiting the pools, feeding the ducks and soaking up the sunshine were great, too. However, we also spent several hours at the National Zoo (a bit disappointing - perhaps because it was early in the year with lots of construction), visited the beautifully imposing National Cathedral and spent some time at the new Pentagon Memorial to 9/11.

We also visited some friends and took advantage of their hospitality. We spent one night with Blane and Judy Cox (who graciously watched Rachel for us on Saturday morning for the race), to include lunch following the race with Lael, Linnea and her husband – and got a good update on the family, not to mention meeting Judy and getting acquainted. We also had a great BBQ with Bill and Ruby Martin Sunday afternoon, with Lisa, her husband and Adam there. Perfect complements to the weekend, which also included strolling through the embassies in DuPont and enjoying some great eating in DC neighborhoods. (What would a race weekend be without some great eating?!?)

We didn’t get to check off a state with this run…..and we don’t even have a peg yet for our finishers’ medal, but it was a “capitol” run and a great trip.

Is there a “thoughtful takeaway” in this blog? There are things worth going back for and you can go back. Visit Washington. Let the city bring our history to life. Take your kids there. More than once. And if you wish, you can even take Gladys along! The DC trip makes two in a row that we have made excellent use of our GPS - thanks for the gift!

Savannah GA - Running the Barrier Islands

2010-03-14T22:35:00.017-06:00

With as much travel as we do it is unusual that we are very surprised at things we see on our trips. But Georgia had a unique distinction of having TWO such surprises! The first was running a race on a small barrier island off the coast of Georgia and not seeing the ocean until we literally ended the race running onto the beach. The second was the charm that was Savannah.
Since it was a trip to run a race – let’s start there. It was run on Tybee Island, one of a dozen or more small, barrier islands off the coast of Georgia – this one being the furthest north on the South Carolina border and just east of Savannah. In early February there wasn’t much to distinguish it. We didn’t see many dunes, the town was obviously a warm-weather, but smaller resort town – and in early February the race was one of the few things going on. The course wasn’t overly scenic as it looped around through typical barrier island residential areas (lots of sand, palm trees and elevated houses) and there wasn’t the glitz or wealth of other more famous islands. (We also drove around Jekyll Island, which qualified in that category and was a retreat of the rich and famous for decades. Neighboring Cumberland Island was the site of a Kennedy marriage, which of course was of considerable interest to Karen; luckily it was a ferry ride away and not one we had time for!) From a race perspective, it was a good course in that it was as flat as a pancake (probably THE flattest we have run) and it was at sea level. Weather was cool with occasional mist or even light rain, so pretty good running conditions. Since we hadn’t run a race for over two months and had cut back on our training for the winter, it was viewed as a “start the season” event with no real pace objectives. As it turns out, I felt pretty good and, with a couple of exceptions, was able to run every mile faster than the previous one and ended up placing second in my age group in a pretty good-sized field of over 1200 runners. I’ll take it as a successful start to 2010, while completing our 38th State.

Savannah was delightful and charming. (Even our accommodations! We ended up staying in a beautiful house on Hunter Army Airfield – by far, our most luxurious race lodging to date.)
I had heard much about the city, but didn’t really picture it well. The historical area looks much like it did before the Civil War 160 years ago and I was also surprised at how old parts of the city were, not knowing it was Georgia’s first real settlement, dating back nearly 300 years.
The city parks placed strategically in rows every few blocks downtown, the stately old homes, the magnificent magnolias and other hardwoods, draped with Spanish moss providing canopies across the road (and the cemeteries – another spot Karen can’t pass up if it’s fame has spread outside the fence),
the old waterfront area, and pirate hangouts made this a most interesting stop. We toured the Andrew Lowe house where the founder of the Girls Scouts lived after her marriage to a wealthy Savannah resident. Oh – and did I mention the food? Southern comfort food – if not born here – certainly thrives here.

Spending a half-day in the Okefenokee Swamp (per Rachel – the “HokeyPinokey) enroute to Savannah from Jacksonville was an added bonus. It was a bit chilly for the gators to be out, but we did see a few and had a nice boat tour through the swamp followed by a short hike to a great lookout.

So let 2010 begin! And not forgetting the “thoughtful” dimension of this blog, may I just say I obviously needed an American history refresher. Our history is diverse and enlightening; spending time in Savannah was like walking into a history book. I also felt some sense of gratitude that, for whatever reason, Sherman spared Savannah as he torched Georgia near the end of the war. If we want our children to appreciate their history, we probably need to make a bit more of an effort to have them live and experience it more often. It was a lesson not lost on me. And by the way – our trip to Charleston next year should be great!

RUNNING: A Year Without Glasses!

2010-02-27T08:35:00.014-07:00

Last month I visited Hoopes Vision Center on the occasion of a one-year follow-up after my Lasik surgery. The appointment went extremely well and everything checked out according to expectations. According to the evaluation, I was seeing 20/20 and even reading reasonably well with material at a distance that didn't require a backpack excursion to place it somewhere.

HOOAH!!

Thinking back, I don't remember when I last didn't wear glasses. So, I went back through as many old family photos as I could find and the first photo of me with glasses I could find was in 1968....so would you believe it was 42 years ago?? No doubt, there are many arguments that could be made about the merits of wearing glasses - I mean, look at all the historical fashion trends I reflected and the unmistakable fashion statements I made! However, when all is said and done, it's nice not having them on my nose. While it is true that I still - out of habit and on a relatively frequent basis - try to move them to a different position on my nose, it is nice having to retract my hand realizing it won't do any good anymore. My nose is there to stay!

Reflecting back on the 42 years I remember several failed experiments to wear contact lenses. I remember stitches above my eyes when elbows of basketball players decided my glasses were improperly positioned on my head. I remember a variety of methods to ensure my glasses stayed on my head when I no longer found myself upright on my water skis; those experiments were equally successful. (Dredging the bottom of Hyrum Reservoir would, no doubt, return multiple items whose return would have made my Mother much happier.) I even remember using m glasses on top of a camera lens to turn it into a zoom - with similar results. But the experiment I never really succeeded at trying, namely creating windshield wipers for them in the rain, will no longer be necessary.

After all these years knowing that the writer of the song: "When you walk through the rain, hold your head up high" was certainly NOT someone who wore glasses - I can now do it! And can still see afterwards!!

In all seriousness, I am extremely grateful that the surgery went so well and that I am seeing about as well as could possibly be expected. It's nice being able to buy several pair of sunglasses that wrap around and protect the eyes and don't cost a fortune.

And running one year without prescription eyewear?? Its been great!

Running the ONEderful Mississippi Gulf Coast

2009-12-31T17:12:00.019-07:00

Okay, I admit occasionally having envied Karen’s plaques and mementoes for those races where she has actually placed in her age group or a category. And despite the pride factor, I don’t really remember (of course, I have failings there now, too) using the “I” word (for injustice) or coveting them. I wondered whether I realistically ever had a chance of placing in my own group. Ultimately, I think I came to the conclusion that if I found a race small enough….it might just be possible. Welcome to Mississippi! On the Saturday following Thanksgiving, we ran the Mississippi Gulf Coast Marathon and Half-Marathon on the Stennis Space Center in the southwest corner of the state, just a few miles from the Gulf and Louisiana. I won my age division! True, there were only 11 other men in that division, but it just so happened I also ran a “Karen-era” PR – by a considerable margin – finishing the course in 1:42:40. I’ll take it! As it turns out, this was NOT our smallest race. In fact, there have been quite a few that were smaller – but it was definitely more “down home” than many have been. However, it was a perfect day and course for a PR. It was cool, overcast, very little breeze, and about as flat as a pancake. And there was irony, as well.

Karen also finished first in her age group – and had more competitors! So we had a bit more in our luggage on the return trip – two plaques to help us remember our moment in the spotlight.

It was another great trip and weekend. It was actually preceded by a complete surprise trip (for Karen) to Chicago for Thanksgiving for a very nice, but quick visit with family. We then had 2-3 days in Mississippi, where neither Karen nor I had ever spent much time. We enjoyed an afternoon on the Gulf Coast (still quite a few reminders of the devastation wrought by Hurricane Katrina a few years back) – which looks like it would be ideal for family and kid bathing in season!

The whole area is part of the Mississippi River delta, so lots of swamps, southern forests, and bayous. Our half-marathon was through such forest and bayou country – certainly no urban areas. We drove up to Jackson and, after church on Sunday morning, visited the Capitol where we got a private viewing. We found it closed, but knocked and a security guard let us in to tour the very impressive edifice. We then spent half a day driving down the Mississippi River or along the Natchez Trace, a famous trading route for centuries.

We visited Vicksburg National Military Park (a Union victory that had perhaps more significance than any other during the Civil War); stopped along the Trace to enjoy an authentic southern fried chicken lunch; and had a little time in Natchez – which, in its day – was one of the wealthiest cities in America and was replete with southern estates and mansions.

After Mississippi we flew from New Orleans to Orlando and met Buggy and Grace for several days at Disney World – which was a great finish to our week away. But more on that trip in a later post. As for Mississippi – it was ONEderful! (And by the way, at the end of 2009 we have completed 37 States! Thirteen plus DC to go!)

Running a Nor'easter

2009-12-03T19:01:00.024-07:00

Sooner or later it was bound to happen. Every once in awhile - albeit VERY briefly and only until I knock on the nearest wooden object - I catch myself thinking how fortunate we have been with our race weather. We have missed a lot of storms, but really only run part of a couple of races in somewhat inclement weather. Rhode Island - indeed our smallest state - decided it was time to even the odds - and ordered a uniquely New England Nor'easter for the occasion. We suspected the weather might not be cooperative the day we landed in Providence. Our Thursday afternoon and evening drive out through the hill country to see the fall colors included snow - and cold. However, the brunt of the storm waited until race day, which broke with a steady, cold rain. As the race started the wind picked up and the rain changed from vertical to horizontal, with blustery gale force winds along the coast and especially at the finish on the beach. Needless to say, by then every runner was completely soaked through whatever attire they were wearing. We would have been grateful to have been through had the race had adequate warming facilities, but "cooling" off after a race. . . soaking wet . . . in the rain . . . with temperatures around 50 and winds howling didn't make for happy runners. It was compounded by the fact the start and finish were 6-8 miles apart and buses were to take the runners back to the start area. However, no one knew where they were loading, and when we finally found out, it was half a mile away . . . and all for naught - the busses weren't running, anyway! Hundreds of people were lined up waiting . . . and no buses. I was, literally, shivering uncontrollably and thought I was going to have hypothermia. Luckily, I don't think it progressed that far and, after waiting for 30-45 minutes and giving up on the busses, we flagged down some passing motorists who had pity on both of us and took us (albeit on a circuitous route) back to our car. The bright side? We now know what a Nor'easter can look like up close and personal!

On race morning (Newport RI) we seriously contemplated not running the race (which, apparently, was what some 700-800 decided); however, we concluded we had too much invested. As for the results - we thought there were likely two possible outcomes: 1) either we would want to get through as quickly as possible to get out of the elements (had we only known), or 2) it would be a very slow race due to conditions. For me, it was more the former. I ran an 8-minute/mile pace. It wasn't a PR, but anytime I'm at an hour-and-45 minutes or less, I'm pretty satisfied. My disappointment was learning that, for this race, rather than the normal 5-year age group categories, they had 10-year categories. Among those men 50-59, I finished 5th of 93. However, had I been competing in my normal group (55-59), I would have been first (of 38)! Oh well....

The weather obscured much of the natural beauty of the course. Fortunately, we drove it the day before and it would have ranked among the most scenic we have done. Much of it was right along the quintessential New England coast - rocky, headlands, points, wind and sea-swept vegetation, hills - and some absolutely magnificent homes (actually estates or mansions) overlooking the water. Beautiful.

As trips go, and despite the weather, this was another really great one. For such a small state, Rhode Island packs a powerful historical punch. Colonial history started with Roger Williams and there were some very impressively preserved homes and areas from that era in Providence. The Capitol was equally impressive and we had two great meals in the city - one of which included a seafood first for me . . . an oyster! (More on that later.)

We followed Providence with a scenic drive through RI (where we made an "ascent" of RI's highest point, Jerimoth Hill t 812'!) and eastern Connecticut and ended up in Newport - not only an important port during colonial times but, more recently, hangout of the "rich and famous" during the gilded age...and still today. It seems every wealthy industrialist in the East had a summer "home" (actually a mansion) in Newport - the Vanderbilts, Biltmores, Astors, Berwinds, and dozens more. Although many of the 19th century estates are no longer there, many have also been preserved to tell the story of a bygone age when even the wealthiest did not have to pay taxes and could lavish their fortunes on mansions they used only a couple of months in the summer. Having visited and toured many of the chateaus and castles of Europe, I can unequivocally say that many of these Newport mansions rivalled them in every detail, every expense, every ornate room, and splendor - not to mention size. They were pretty amazing. We toured three of them (The Breakers, Marble House, Elms), ran by dozens more and on the 4-mile Cliff Walk saw still others perched along the rocky promontories overlooking the ocean. If you've every read "The Great Gatsby" - you would immediately relate after spending a day or two in the Newport Mansions.

Before leaving Newport, we also had some great seafood and Italian meals and ate lunch in America's olderst tavern - the "White Horse" - established in 1673 - indeed, a living historical museum and well worth the rather pricey lunch.

(And a special note dedicated to Karen - who you know has NO interest whatsoever in celebrities - esp. Kennedys - and their comings and goings. Well, it just so happens Newport is where John Kennedy and Jacqueline Bouvier were married. Do you think we visited the Catholic Cathedral where that event mesmerized millions?)

Three thoughts are worth sharing after finishing our 36th State. First - don't let size influence expectations unfairly. Rhode Island is half the size of Utah County, but packs a powerful historical punch, has a beautiful coastline, some pretty forests (esp. in the Fall), and some weather everyone should get acquainted with!
Secondly - break down a barrier that has prevented you from doing something. In my case, I've told myself for years that eating raw, slimy oysters was gross and something I would NEVER do. A great waitress in Providence convinced me I should at least try one of Rhode Island's true delicacies. I did! And I now know why they don't really eat them - they advise just sliding it in and swallowing. Hmmmmm. You know, it wasn't bad, but now I have a basis for my disposition towards oysters. Finally, how much adversity are you willing to endure to achieve a goal or to make something work? This question should not imply that we overcame some immense obstacle - but the weather certainly did not welcome us on race morning. Into every life some rain will fall...and some wind will blow - and sometimes we have even invited them in. How we deal with them, no doubt, speaks volumes about our character, our commitment and our recognition that "this, too, shall pass."

RUNNING WITH THE FLY BOYS

2009-11-08T19:10:00.021-07:00

Most people could probably identify the Wright Brothers and Kitty Hawk when talking about the birth of modern flight. But in truth, credit belongs to Dayton, Ohio – home of Wilbur and Orville Wright and site of our Ohio half-marathon on September 19^th, 2009. The race was on Wright Patterson Air Force Base – named in honor of the brothers – and site of the USAF Aviation Museum – one of the truly great aviation museums in the world. The race began (after a "Blue Angel" type fly-over) adjacent to the Museum, was run almost exclusively on the air base and ended on the tarmac of the museum’s air field – running between vintage aircraft from the last 50 years. It was a great way to finish a really nice run – one that was superbly supported by the Air Force with officers and Airmen (not necessarily volunteers, I suspect) manning most of the hydration stops. The day was also nearly a perfect one for running. The temperature was mild, there was virtually no wind, it was partly cloudy and the course was generally flat. The result? It wasn’t a PR for me – but it was close. My “Karen-era” PR was in Chicago in August, when I ran a 1:43:12; for the USAF Half-marathon I was four seconds slower.

It was another really good trip.

Karen’s Mom joined us and we enjoyed and appreciated her company (she was our babysitter during the race). On our first full day, we visited Amish country – north and east of Columbus. Holmes County has the highest concentration of Amish in the country and we thoroughly enjoyed driving through the green rolling hills of the area, with very unique “Amish Farm Clusters” throughout, the frequent horse-drawn carriages, and the fields interspersed with woods.

We toured an Amish home, visited a museum, had a buggy ride and ate dinner at a well-known Amish eatery in a small town. The home was interesting, the culture and history lesson very informative, the buggy ride okay, and the meal VERY mediocre. It was interesting to learn the origins of the Amish (Anna-Baptists during the Reformation and from Switzerland) and the three related religious practices – and the varying levels of traditions and rejection of modern conveniences within each of them. It was well worth the visit.

Enroute to Dayton we spent some time in Columbus - to include a visit to the Capitol and to Battelle.

The second day and part of a third were dedicated to Dayton, the museum and environs. The museum was amazing – as were a number of historical sites around Dayton – most having to do with the Wright Brothers and the origins of powered flight, to include the huge field where they really learned to fly. As it turned out, their Kitty Hawk flight was only memorable because it was the first; they considered it a disappointment, and hardly successful. They returned to Dayton shortly thereafter and over the next several years – working exclusively in Dayton and on successive variations – “perfected” the flying machine. Flight has been intrinsically related to Dayton ever since – thus the home of one of the largest and most prestigious air bases in the country.

Also of note during the trip was a half-day/night excursion to Cincinnati. We enjoyed an Octoberfest celebration downtown (Cincinnati has a rich German heritage), visited a park and walked along the waterfront (Ohio River), and attended a Cincinnati Reds, Florida Marlins game at Riverfront Park.

As for the “thoughtful” part of this blog – perhaps I can share some comments we heard during the pasta dinner the night before the race. We don’t normally attend these (they tend to disappoint), but since the Air Force billed this as a “gourmet” event, we bit. The food was pretty good, the Air Force brass was plentiful, and the speaker was excellent. Dave McGillivray, who has been the race director for the Boston Marathon for nearly 20 years talked to us about overcoming obstacles to success. Growing up, he had always wanted to play pro basketball; unfortunately, he is 5’6” tall. When he finally accepted the message that basketball was not in the cards, he ended up (almost coincidentally) running. He was never one of the elite runners – and it took him several attempts to even finish the Boston marathon – but his story was inspirational and he talked to us about the importance of goals, of commitment, and of taking inspiration from others. In his case it was from his Grandfather, who challenged him to do Boston. However, between being sick and other issues, he failed to even finish for a couple of years. Just before his Grandfather died, he challenged Dave to try again and told him he would always be there for him. Dave tried again – although very much impacted by the loss of his Grandfather. Just when he was ready to throw in the towel again, he realized he was running adjacent to the cemetery where his Grandfather was buried – he WAS there for him! He not only finished, but has subsequently run and finished some 40 consecutive Boston Marathons, including the last 18 or so where he was the Director – running each of them the night after the race to ensure everyone finished and that he was the last finisher. (He was also the first to gain notoriety for running across the country.)

Set goals; stay committed; take inspiration from the sources where it is available. Success is out there. We just have to believe and keep going. It was another great race and weekend – spent with the Fly Boys. Our State-count? 35!

Running the Redrock

2009-10-01T21:44:00.022-06:00

Only Southern Utah’s Red Rock Country would motivate us to deviate from our prescribed plan. Despite previous opportunities and even the allure of some very beautiful places, we had essentially agreed that we would only run half-marathons and that each race needed to give us a new state until we had reached our goal.
Luckily, we knew southern Utah well enough to think maybe THIS race ought to be an exception. And so it was. And we have no regrets. We ran the Red Rock.

The seed was actually planted in training runs months ago. We would occasionally – and in places typically only runners spend much time – see signs about “Running the Red Rock”. I took the bait and went to the website and learned about the inaugural running of a 180-mile relay that was to begin at Brian Head Ski Resort, travel south past Cedar Breaks, then up onto the Kolob Terrace through a section of Zion, and then through Hurricane and St. George, before cutting a final loop north to return to St. George through Snow Canyon. It sounded beautiful – and the advertised 8,000 drop in elevation was appealing. After consulting with my car pool partner (Will) – who I knew had participated in a number of such relays – we decided to do it. About six weeks later we were registered and had put together a team of six men and six women which included two other coworkers (one of which was also a neighbor), two ward members, five people who knew or had previously run relays with Will and, of course, Karen. CW's West Desert Incinerators were a reality. (CW for Carl and Will, of course.)

The race was run over the Friday and Saturday of Labor Day weekend. Although we had a team meeting and did some “team runs” (4-5 of us), the first time we had the entire team together was at Brian Head about 45 minutes prior to our start time on Friday. However, I think all of us were excited and, to some extent, ready. We put our first runner on the chair lift at 11 a.m.; when he reached the top, his first leg was to run down. Thirty-five legs and nearly 26 hours later, around 1 p.m. on Saturday, 11 of us ran the final 100 yards with our last runner. During those 26 hours each of us ran three legs; all of us ran legs at night; several of us ran legs in driving rain with lightning illuminating the skies (to include yours truly); many of us ran the “unadvertised” uphills (yes, two of my legs had grueling climbs and Karen averaged more feet ascended per mile ran than any other team member);

two of us ran through mud so slick and sticky as to make walking a challenge (I was one of the two); most of us traversed sections of breathtaking scenery (my last leg, just before the final leg was possibly the most gorgeous leg of the race – a downhill through Snow Canyon); many of us ran at elevations where we knew the oxygen had been removed (and I had one of these, which also happened to be with rain, in the mud and with a grueling climb!);
and each van of six became a pretty tight-knit group – dedicated to taking care of and becoming the biggest fans and supporters of our teammates.

>Despite the challenges of the runs (to include the unexpected road blockage by about a million sheep), it was a memorable, even enjoyable and very worthwhile experience – and one we would be willing to repeat. The team members and camaraderie were great and, in a sport that usually emphasizes independence and “going it alone”, it was a reminder that interdependence is really what makes some things special.

We ran the Red Rock. The exception was a good one.

In keeping with our running tradition, we even made a bit of a trip out of the relay. Sunday afternoon we spent in Snow Canyon hiking and gawking - what a great place for a family outing! That was followed by late afternoon glow on the Kolob Canyon walls of Zion NP. Monday included a stop in Cedar Breaks and then several hours of hiking in Bryce Canyon before heading home. Would be hard to think of a better weekend!

Key to Pictures:
Top 2 - Incinerators before the race at Brian Head
Next 2 - Along the route - try running through sheep! Cedar Breaks backdrop
Next 3 - Van #1 runners and Van logos to psyche out the opposition (thanks to Alan and Jen for the van, by the way.)
Next 3 - Karen - our team mountain goat!
Next 4 - Yours Truly, in the mud, without oxygen with Snow Canyon ending
Next 2 - Incinerators - you did it!
Next 4 - Snow Canyon
Next 2 - Kolob Section, Zion NP
Next 2 - Cedar Breaks
Final 4 - Bryce Canyon

Running from Forests to Spuds

2009-09-13T15:34:00.011-06:00

No Southwest? It has been a long while since we did a race that wasn’t at the end of a Southwest flight, but such was the case the weekend of the 22^nd of August when the Toyota took its place. The race was the Mesa Falls Marathon and Half-Marathon. The location: Ashton Idaho. We picked this as one of several good options in Idaho and it turned out to be a nice trip. The course itself didn’t prove to be quite as scenic as billed, because only the marathon started high enough on the mesa to go by the very impressive falls, but it was still nice. We started in evergreen forests well above the surrounding plains, ran some single track trails for several miles on the way off the mesa, then crossed the river…and were in for a surprise! We knew the elevation was a bit higher than we normally run, but not until the day before the race when I looked at the elevation profile did I see there was LOTS of uphill in the course! After we crossed the river we started a grade that lasted nearly three miles and got us on the high plains with potato fields on both sides...and lots of rolling hills...and lots of sun...and much warmer than normal temperatures...and no shade…and not quite as many water stops as might have been nice. Consequently, it was definitely not a fast race, but we successfully completed it and enjoyed the small town atmosphere – definitely a change from our previous race in downtown Chicago.

While in the area we enjoyed a nice trip to Bear World and some huckleberry milkshakes. Rachel got a kick out of driving through the animal preserve and enjoyed the bears, the elk, the deer...and, of course, the rides that were there for kids.

We also planned on enjoying the scenic route along the Tetons on the way home – to include a hike up onto Table Mountain, but the weather didn’t cooperate very well, so we had limited views of the mountains and lots of rain most of the way home. We did manage one short hike at the summit between Bear Lake and Logan, but that was it.

My thoughts DURING this race were focused on making it up the hills and noting I was running much slower than I had anticipated. However, afterwards it occurred to me how nice a small-town race can be, too. We might be inclined to discount the small towns and communities, but they can have a charm all their own.

We went to the pasta dinner the night before the race at the elementary school and it was quaint – but also impressive to find so many people from far-flung places who had come to Ashton, Idaho to run a race. Ashton even had a runner’s breakfast for us before the race – and that was just about a first. Oh….and by the way, did I mention I took second place in my age group?!? One of the other benefits of a smaller race!

All in all, another good race and another State checked off - #34.

Running a PR in the Big City

2009-08-09T15:22:00.013-06:00

Several years ago, someone made the now-famous (or infamous, depending on your point of view) statement: "It takes a village." Perhaps there is also truth to it when converted (and modified slightly) to a running outcome: "It takes a city." Such was the case last week when, after several months of coming up just short, I reset my (Karen-era) PR (Personal Record) for the Half with a 1:43:12 in the Rock 'n Roll Chicago Half-Marathon. Let's hear it for the Windy City! (By the way - this nickname has nothing to do with Chicago's winds off Lake Michigan - which are well-known - but rather with the politicians who have been inextricably linked to the city for probably close to a century.)
After running 33 half-marathons with Karen - many of which were on some truly scenic landscapes - I wouldn't necessarily have expected Chicago to rank right up there. However, I must give credit where credit is due. In its own right, it was a very scenic course. It started before 6 a.m. on race morning from our (unexpectedly) deserted parking space on a spit of land extending into Lake Michigan to the Planetarium. The views back across the lake into the city in the early light were truly impressive. The course itself ran through several miles of skyscrapers, across the Chicago River a couple of times, then south out of the city center until it intersected the lake shore, after which it returned north into the city along Lake Michigan. It was flat. The weather stayed reasonably comfortable. The elevation was negligible. The crowds and music were pretty good. And my wheels stayed on! My pace averaged just under 7:53/mile and my time shaved almost 30 seconds off my previous best in Nashville last year. Both were huge races (Nashville nearly 30,000 and Chicago half of that) and both had decent crowds and music. Who knows - maybe there are factors we don't give much credence to; or maybe we just run well for unexplainable reasons. After all, it WAS Chicago - Karen's city - maybe that was also a factor. She, too, had a good race - though not a PR. In any event, I was happy with the race and reassured that I can still turn in a pretty good time. And if I find a small enough race - maybe I can even place, so Karen wouldn't be the only one with trophies! (In Chicago, I was 16 of 211 in my age division, so felt pretty good about that, as well.)
Okay - enough beating my own drum. It was also a good visit. We stayed with Karen's Mom and had some great afternoons and evenings of food and games. The family really enjoys card games and, of course, Karen and I are willing participants. Between the two of us, Karen's siblings and her Mom, spouses and kids, we played many rounds of Pinochle, Injun Joe, and Cribbage. We also watched Karen's nephew play a few games in a regional baseball tournament (which they eventually won) and we enjoyed an afternoon reunion with a group of Karen's friends from her college days. There really wasn't much sightseeing with this trip, but a good one, nonetheless. Karen and Rachel stayed a few extra days after they sent me home to work, with some swimming, more visiting, more eating and general relaxation.

The race also offered up some wisdom in its running. Often - when we set out to accomplish a challenging goal or project - we have a very definite plan. We work hard, we train and when it is time to perform, we rely on that plan and our ability to execute it exactly as we envisioned. However, I'm sure we have also recognized in our efforts that Murphy is alive and well. When something doesn't go according to plan, it is easy to get rattled, lose confidence and before long find ourselves coming up short. Such was the case with this race. I had a plan and knew exactly how I wanted to run the early miles of the race. I also knew I would be relying on my Garmin to keep me on the desired pace and keep me from running too fast too early. What I didn't bargain for were several long tunnels (e.g. a quarter-mile under the Convention Center) or underpasses in the first 3-4 miles of the race. If the Garmin can't acquire satellites, its utility is severely impacted. By mile 3, the anxiety of not really knowing my pace (I also didn't see timer boards or mileage markers until then) was taking its toll. It was then that I had the insight that had escaped me so often in the past. If the tunnels were behind me, I could still find and keep a pace the rest of the way and, ultimately, all I REALLY could do was run,...run hard,....and keep running. Within another two miles I had figured out how to use the Garmin with the timer boards and mileage markers that were now prominently located along the route. And when I got to those tough miles, 9-11, and realized no one was passing me - my indicator that I was running the race I wanted to run - I knew I had a good shot at the PR. The message? Stay flexible with your plan. They are great tools, but don't let the fact that a deviation occurs take you off course. More than likely your plan doesn't represent the only way to achieve the desired outcome. Hang in there, stay confident and tweak the plan on the run.
It took a big city. Chicago rocks! Thirty-three states checked off.

Running the Green Mountains

2009-07-24T18:18:00.015-06:00

Not every State’s nickname will immediately lead you to a correct picture of what you might expect to see there.

I mean, really – what might you expect to see in the “Natural” State of Arkansas? Or what “Old Line” are you supposed to see in Maryland? And how many of us have really seen that many Beehives in Utah? But there are some VERY aptly named exceptions – one of those being the site of our last run – the Green Mountain State of Vermont. Indeed, the State was covered with mountains – even REAL Mountains (from an eastern perspective) and all of them were green. It was a beautiful State, a very nice trip, a good race – and a place we know we need to get back to in the fall.

If you think of the postcard that is Vermont – you are not far off. We saw quaint villages with their white churches on the town common/green (to wit, St. Johnsbury). We saw the mountains, lakes and forests which, by the way, seem to cover the entire state.
We saw covered bridges, beautiful streams and waterfalls. We saw Vanderbilt estates (Shelburne Farms) above Lake Champlain and New York across the lake from a morning cruise. We even saw the alpine lodge established by the Von Trapps (after Sound of Music, of course), the corporate home and ice cream plant of Ben & Jerry’s, an Ivy League campus (Dartmouth) and Joseph Smith’s birthplace near Sharon. Yes – it’s a small state – but it packs a pretty good punch per square mile.

As for the race (Covered Bridges Half-Marathon, June 7th), it was the most highly-hyped run we have done. The 2000+ field of runners was full just over 30 minutes after registration opened six months ago. Needless to say, expectations were high. Almost too high. Don’t get me wrong; it was a pretty course in a very pretty area. It started at a small ski area near Pomfret and ran along the valley’s river through a covered bridge to the very picturesque town of Woodstock and then to the Quechee Gorge. There were a couple of hills along the route, but nothing overly serious. Both Karen and I had good times, with mine being about 20 seconds slower than my “Karen-era” PR, which I tied in May in Michigan.
So why “almost too high” you may be asking? Perhaps because of the scenery experienced in the days leading up to the race and because we didn’t get to run through half a dozen covered bridges. Not to mention the fact that there wasn’t a finisher’s medal presented (which certainly wasn’t because the registration fee was low), nor were the post-race victuals very good. Okay – perhaps I’m getting a bit greedy – but expectations are what they are. It certainly was a good trip – one which we thoroughly enjoyed with Karen’s Mom as our traveling companion and dedicated Rachel nanny.

As for the deep, philosophical thoughts (should that be your expectation) – would you settle for a couple of minor ones – worth thinking about the next time you shave? If so, I would just say that expectations are powerful. They color our experience and can influence our perspective – both positively and negatively. Be careful as they form in order to enjoy, appreciate and learn from every experience to the maximum extent possible.

Also – and tied to expectations – be careful how fast you start. You’ll seldom, if ever, see the winner fading at the end. Know thyself. Pace thyself. Don’t run out of gas before the course is finished.

Running Between Great Lakes

2009-07-05T15:56:00.032-06:00

For someone who prides himself on having been a lot of places and seen a lot of things – with all 50 States checked off – it’s nice to take a trip and break considerable new ground! Such was the case over the Memorial Day weekend with our trip to Northern Michigan and the Upper Peninsula (UP). The race (Bayshore Marathon and Half-Marathon on May 23^rd) was actually in Traverse City, which lies at the base of the Grand Traverse Bay off Lake Michigan and about 75% of the way north in the “lower” part of the state. Although it was apparent the whole area has been very hard hit by the recession (read: Michigan and the US car industry), it was a very pretty area.

The race itself was along the coastline of a very narrow peninsula separating the East and West Arms of the bay and ranks as one of the more scenic courses we have run. It was also relatively flat and offered great running weather, with mild temperatures, good humidity and generally overcast skies. The result: it was an excellent race for me. I broke the 8-minute mile barrier again (7:57) and tied my second best time (Springfield, MO, in November 2007) since restarting races with Karen.

As for the new ground, I don’t recall ever being in northern Michigan, on the UP (the surprisingly large part of the state between Lakes Michigan and Superior), or in northern Wisconsin. I also don’t think I’ve ever seen Lakes Superior or Huron, or the Mackinac Bridge connecting the UP to the rest of the state. All were well worth seeing.

We flew into Chicago and had Karen’s brother, Tom (who ran the marathon), and her Mother with us for the trip, which took us up the east coast of Lake Michigan to Traverse City – with the most scenic part being the northern part, to include Sleeping Bear Dunes National Lakeshore and some pretty hamlets on the lake. The bridge is a spectacular suspension bridge – with one of the largest spans in the world. As for the UP, it was wildly scenic, but reminded me of Alaska – very few people, spread out over a raw and unforgiving place – that sort of gives the impression these people are on their own (or getting away from something!)

Lake Superior was also impressive, esp. the Pictured Rocks National Lakeshore. From there, we drove down the western shore of Lake Michigan through Wisconsin with, unfortunately, less time than we would have liked to really enjoy it.

Now to those morsels of truth and wisdom. Hmmmm……have you noticed how time takes its toll on the clear recollection of events and facts? And have you perhaps noticed how age compounds this phenomenon?? Although this race was only six weeks ago, I would (likely) be inaccurate to now recite special remembrances, insights or wisdom learned.

That would tend to imply there weren’t any that were particularly profound – or that the impacts of age and time may be worse than I am willing to accept. We’ll go with the former. HOWEVER, that might be profound, in and of itself: don’t neglect to journal and record the events of your life! And don’t procrastinate doing it!! You will only live those events – with their associated thoughts and emotions once. There is no better time to record them. Someone will be grateful that you did.

Running with the Thoroughbreds

2009-06-14T13:35:00.014-06:00

Thoroughbred race horses have always fascinated me. No doubt a few people are aware that I spent countless hours with my neighbors playing statistical, sports board games – particularly professional baseball (APBA and Strato-O-Matic). What probably fewer people know is that APBA also had a Horse Racing board game – where players could run the truly great horses of all time. My favorite was Man O’War. I even read a book about him and came to the same conclusion as the author; he was the greatest horse ever. I was always captivated by the races of the Triple Crown – the Kentucky Derby, the Preakness and the Belmont and followed them intently every year – waiting for the next Triple Crown winner and for a horse to rival Man O’War. During a recent race trip I got to pay homage to my favorite horse – at the Kentucky Horse Museum in Lexington. A prominent section of the park was dedicated to Man O’War, his accomplishments and his almost unbelievable physical characteristics. Apparently, I am not alone in thinking this horse was truly one of the greatest ever.

As for the half-marathon – it may not have been one of MY greatest of all time – but it was okay – with no reminders of the hamstring injury. The race (April 25^th) was actually part of the Kentucky Derby Festival in Louisville – a week-long party culminating in the Derby. It was a big deal with almost 10,000 half-marathon runners, plus several thousand more doing the marathon.
It wasn’t among the most scenic runs we have done, but there was an initial (hilly) section in a pretty, wooded park and the finish was in downtown Louisville. However, the highlight was running through a tunnel into Churchill Downs and running around the inside of the race oval as jockeys had their horses out for their morning workouts.

Pretty cool.

Beyond the race, it was a great trip to Kentucky. We took a tour through Mammoth Cave, visited Lincoln’s birthplace and monument, spent some time in the historic and very interesting Capitol City of Frankfort

and had a beautiful drive through Kentucky Bluegrass and Horse Country – the quintessential horse estates (hotels might be appropriate) with their vast grassy hills enclosed by white or black fences and the very pampered thoroughbreds, themselves.

At the end of the trip we had checked off State #30 – the 60% milestone! And the Thoughtful Runner even had a few musings. I mentioned that the race wasn’t one of my best. I had actually expected and hoped to do considerably better. Interestingly enough, about 5-6 miles into the race – when I could already see it wasn’t going to be a great race – my mind went to work and came up with any number of reasons to explain my performance – or lack thereof. It was unusually warm (which it was). There were lots of hills in the early park section (which there were). I had to do too much maneuvering at too high a speed to break loose from the throngs at the start (also true). My initial pace was too fast. I had been in New Zealand for a couple of weeks and my training wasn’t where it should have been. All of these were true – and perhaps even contributed to the results. But isn’t it odd – when we recognize we might be falling short – how quickly we can find reasons (excuses) to justify our performance. It just reminded me of a saying I heard many years ago: “Winners don’t need excuses.” In life, as in running, we need to prepare and train and expect what we are going to encounter. Remember – those traveling the same path probably have a lot of the same conditions. At the end of the day, an excuse is not going to help. Run your race – without excuses.

RUNNING MIDDLE EARTH: The Return

2009-05-31T17:21:00.020-06:00

We had completed the competition; we had not completed the journey. Middle Earth’s North Island would present a different set of challenges and landscapes as we set out on the journey home. This land of fire, ice and the underworld would further test our mettle, while rewarding the valiant traveler with unforgettable experiences and additional vistas of unparalleled beauty.

We first ventured into the land of fire and ice in Rotorua and its beautiful namesake lake – nestled in an ancient crater. A sky tram took us to a summit
overlooking the lake and the valley of geothermal activity, from whence we descended in luges; however, this was not before Karen tasted of the Land’s spirit of adventure, being dropped from a tower and accelerating to mind-numbing speed in a swing of fabled proportions. Having maneuvered off the mountain, we partook of the agricultural legacy of the land – witnessing firsthand the relationship of sheep to Middle Earth’s inhabitants.
Rainbow Springs introduced us to the Land’s immense trout and our night culminated with the song, dance, food and history of the Maori tradition.

Two major obstacles remained in our path – we must navigate the dark underworld and traverse the final quarters of fire and ice, to include crossing through the twin volcanoes of Mounts Doom and Tongarairo. We set out next to do the latter – the famed alpine crossing in the Tongarairo (NP) wilderness. However, the elements conspired against us and we were forced to retreat to the Falls of Teranaki – beautiful in their own right, but far short of the volcanoes through which we needed to pass. Storms then forced us into the dark caverns of Waitomo, where we successfully navigated Waitomo and Ruakuri caves and the total darkness that gave way to thousands of spots of light on the cavern roofs where glow worms reside and feast on insects brought into the caves by the black waters channeled through the darkness – the same black waters Karen rafted through on the rings of life, through gorges and through falls to complete our travel through the treacherous darkness.

Fire and ice remained. First, we needed to cross the Thermal Quarter, with its violent mud pots, fiery pools, silica terraces and boiling geysers. Our track would take us through Hell’s Gate and the Hidden Valley of Korako Orakei. We traversed Hell’s Gate in the day’s early hours – skirting formations and evidence of the power of Middle Earth’s fire – and reminiscent of similarly stark landscapes a day’s journey from our home land. As the sun set, we completed the trail through the Hidden Valley of Korako Orakei – a surreal landscape of terraces, mud volcanoes and fumaroles. We were nearing our journey’s end.

It was only fitting that the moon filled the night sky as we prepared for the final trek. During the previous day and night, the season’s first snow had blanketed the highlands and the cold gales reminded everyone that the Tongarairo Alpine Crossing was not for the faint of heart.

In the early morning hours we assembled with dozens of other pilgrims at the Trails’ Head – many of whom looked at us skeptically – with Rachel perched on my back. However, we believed we were prepared and dressed to brave the elements and we set out, quickly gaining elevation through the Mangatepopo Valley into the highlands below the volcanoes. Clouds and mist allowed only intermittent views of our destination through the high pass, but we passed Mangatepopo Hut and after a brief respite at Soda Springs began the steep steppes to South Crater.

From here, the ascent to Red Crater became increasingly more treacherous – the trail covered in snow and ice and the cold gales increasingly fierce. We passed many travelers who had decided to return another day and many who continued to inch along. We also were confronted by angry pilgrims who thought we were unfit parents to have our daughter out in the elements and on the Track under these conditions. We pressed on – occasionally rewarded by clear views of the ominous volcanic profile of Mt. Doom. We safely reached the summit near Red Crater, with the hissing of steam evident and the color of sulphur on all sides.

With the weather taking its toll, we did not tarry, but began the descent into Emerald Lakes – with their mystic and beautiful colors set against the volcanic plain. With the track clearing and Rachel faring better, we continued through Central Crater and past Blue Lake before beginning the long descent to Ketetahi Hut, where we tarried shortly with friendly travelers before completing the Crossing in the late afternoon. We had surmounted the final obstacle and met the final challenge. Our time in Middle Earth was drawing to a close.

Tired, but satisfied, we returned to our carriage and headed north. Based on the advice of fellow travelers on the Alpine Crossing our destination was Mount Maunganui, referring to both the town and Mount on Middle Earth’s east shore – our last opportunity to actually see and spend time on the South Pacific coast.

We finally found lodging and the next morning were rewarded with beautiful white sand beaches, contrasted against the azure blue waters of the Pacific, black volcanic rock along the shore and the green slopes of Mt. Mauganui at the head of the small bay. We spent time on the beach, climbed the Mount and marveled at the beauty that we had not yet seen. The time was short, but more than worthwhile as a fitting conclusion to a wonderful trip – where only the final drive to Auckland and the airborne journey home remained.

We departed Middle Earth in the evening – and to make amends for the lost day of our inbound voyage – we arrived in Los Angeles that same day, but in the morning hours. It was a trip to remember. Middle Earth lived up to every expectation – in fact, exceeded each one. It was a beautiful Land where the promise of outdoor adventure never waned and where the senses were continuously overwhelmed by the Land’s bounty. No doubt the Land will call again – and once again we will heed the call.

RUNNING MIDDLE EARTH: The Competition

2009-05-08T14:30:00.014-06:00

Having completed our preparation, we dined at one of Middle Earth’s finest taverns in the historic mining district of Arrowtown. The next day we bid sad farewell to the South Island – already recognizing the powerful call to return – but knowing the journey was not over. Our overland travel took us to the base of North Island and Middle Earth’s leading city, Wellington, which was beautifully situated on the bays, hills and coastlines of the Southern Quarter. This was our departure point for the journey north – into the heart of Middle Earth’s land of fire and ice – where we took up lodging along the shores of Lake Taupo (Middle Earth’s largest lake), which filled a huge volcanic crater from the time before men.

Knowing the competition loomed, we remained in the Taupo region for a day which was highlighted by the tumbling Huka Falls and a walk along an ever-rising and falling river in a beautiful gorge.

The day of the Competition we traveled down off the volcanoes of Taupo to the cities of Napier and Hastings – situated along Hawke Bay on the Eastern Coast. In the early morning hours, throngs of competitors (perhaps 300??) assembled at the Field of Competition (the area’s premier rugby practice field and facilities – which, by the way, is a sport taken VERY seriously in Middle Earth). Competitors included those who had accumulated the wisdom of years, the youthful, and those wishing to prove themselves to the wizened veterans of previous competitions. It was a beautiful day and the course was set through the rural farms and fields of the Hawke’s Bay region. Initial hills proved challenging to all competitors (especially those two or three of us pushing prams); later in the race the sun took its toll. Despite the challenges, we completed the course set before us (no doubt finishing first among non-Middle Earth participants – although not recognized as such) and marveled at the post-competition feast of biscuits, water, tea and an orange beverage strangely reminiscent of colored water. However – the Competition was successfully completed and should the call of other lands beckon us, we will have a second of the seven major Lands completed.

Before returning to our lodgings, we traveled to the tip of Cape Kidnappers – a remote, but starkly beautiful promontory of towering cliffs overlooking the South Pacific Ocean and Hawke Bay and home of several Gannet colonies – and then to the quaint village of Napier, which boasted an architecturally unified art deco downtown, rebuilt after nearly total destruction from an earthquake nearly a century ago.

We had completed the Competition. We were ready to continue our journey through Middle Earth to its ultimate conclusion and our return to our homeland.

RUNNING MIDDLE EARTH: The Preparatory Journey

2009-04-26T15:05:00.027-06:00

The moon was withholding its light from the clear night sky as we left the world as we knew it. Middle Earth had beckoned and we responded to its call. We had long felt a kinship with this land and felt we could delay the journey no longer. And so we set out – knowing the way would present hardship and challenge amidst the raw beauty this land offered all who heeded its call and met its demands.

The journey to the edges of Middle Earth (more recently known as New Zealand), though long, was uneventful. Among the first challenges was adjusting to Middle Earth’s “left side” travel and to its reckoning of time. As our journey began, one day vanished, time was reset and it became critical to keep one thought always in the forefront – “keep left”. As we arrived at our point of departure, Christchurch, we were struck by the beauty of gardens,
the pastoral River Avon through the city and a friendly people whose language we generally understood – and who wished us well on our way. Verdant green hills, valleys and fields – with flocks of sheep, cattle and perfectly straight fences of trees gradually gave way to starker and more vertical hillsides, lakes, and the open bush of the South Island’s heartland and Southwestern Quarter.
We traveled several hours in darkness to finally reach our lodgings on Lake Wakitipua – from whence our real quest would begin. The days ahead would test our resolve to participate in the competition – yet if successful – prepare us well.

Our course first took us past Glenorchy, Isengard, and up the Dart River on
powerful watercraft – racing through canyons and rocks which marked the treacherous channels – to the end of navigable waters, followed by climbing Deer Park Heights above Queenstown,
where we encountered many of the land’s creatures at close quarters and where we saw constant reminders of the land’s history during the Two Towers.
We next trekked up the Hooker Valley, across raging streams on suspended bridges to the glacial lake at the base of Aoraki (Mt. Cook) – buffeted by gale force winds, but in awe of the mountain’s majesty and its role in the first conquest of Everest – and having paid our respects, were now prepared for the days ahead.

The journey continued in the Southwest Quarter, in Fiordland, one of Middle Earth’s most remote places – and yet one whose beauty is incomparable.
We traveled across Lake Mannopouri, over the barrier pass, and then the length of Doubtful Sound to the Far (Tasman) Sea – with towering, forested peaks on every side of the narrow channels of water we traversed and with ribbons of water falling from hanging valleys along the way.

This was followed by a traverse of Milford Sound – considered the most sought after destination of those who reside in Middle Earth. Its beauty nearly equaled that of Doubtful Sound – especially the spectacular, yet forbidding pyramid of Mitre Peak – guarding the entrance to the fiord and warning travelers of the perils beyond.

The beauty and tranquility of the fiords gave way to the final phase of our preparatory journey – the multi-day tramp from Fiordland to Mt. Aspiring (NP) – which would take us through an alpine pass in the Barrier Mountains along the Routeburn Track – renowned throughout Middle Earth and beyond for its spectacular beauty – yet unforgiving in its demands and the potential exposure to the elements.
Carrying our Wee Little One and associated supplies and equipment we climbed through the ancient Beech Forest to Lake McKenzie Hut, reaching it as light receded for the day. We shared lodgings with 35 other travelers before setting out the next morning for the alpine climb to Harris Saddle, through the glacial lakes and into Mt. Aspiring.
Majestic, eternally snow and ice-clad mountains ringed the Track is it snaked its way up and along ridges, rocky promontories and through the pass – opening up ever more expansive views of the Southern Alps and valleys, before descending past roaring waterfalls, cascades, and rivers of crystal clear water as they fell through bottomless gorges.

As the day closed we reached the Routeburn Shelter and the end of the Track. Our arduous journey had been rewarded with scenes of unspeakable beauty and unforgettable images. We had successfully completed the South Island’s Preparatory Journey. The Middle Earth competition now awaited us.

Running Through the Ages

2009-03-21T22:03:00.025-06:00

Age is relative. At least, that’s the conclusion I’ve reached – and mind you, I’m not just talking about MY age. In relative terms, our nation is pretty new – around 233 years, in fact. It is also one of the oldest continuing democracies in the world and non-native communities have been around since the early 1600s. However, having lived in Europe for a number of years, that is still pretty new; it was not unusual to see communities that could trace their origins back to the first millennium after Christ. So what does this have to do with running? A couple of our recent runs have been back east in areas where these earliest communities were established. Delaware in November was one of these and such was the case with our most recent run, the B&A (Baltimore & Annapolis) Trail Run in Severna Park, MD. Both Baltimore and Annapolis trace their origins back into the early 1600s – as do a number of small hamlets on Maryland’s “Eastern Shore” of the Chesapeake Bay. This trip provided us the opportunity to step back in time again – this time into early American history. Although I had been to Baltimore many times – and thoroughly enjoyed Camden Yards, the Inner Harbor, and the National Aquarium, I had never spent any time in Fell's Point (old historic district) or visited Mount Vernon (heart of Baltimore's cultural community, large memorial to George Washington, Peadbody Institute, grand Hotels, and affluent city residences) or the oldest Catholic Cathedral in the Americas. Nor had I spent time on the Easther Shore to visit a very interesting Chesapeake Bay Maritime Museum in St. Michaels, or historical Easton, both of which boast homes and businesses from the 1600s, not to mention a Third Haven (Quaker) meetinghouse that is the oldest frame meetinghouse in the country. Strolling along some of these streets was like walking through a museum. You won’t see these houses on the websites flaunting America’s most expensive residences, but they exude a rich heritage and attest to a bygone era, while capturing and preserving some of its history. We enjoyed our historical tour, but it was capped by a very current lunch at The Town Dock in St. Michael’s which, without a doubt, ranks as one of the best seafood dinners we have ever had.

The race itself was run along the old railroad grade which had been the Baltimore & Annapolis line – now a running, walking and biking path through the forests and suburbs between Washington, DC and Baltimore. It was a pleasant course, although not unusually scenic. The elevation changes were moderate and the race was pretty well-supported – notwithstanding the snow that fell the night before the race, making some of the wooden bridges quite slick and still snow covered. Otherwise, the trail was wet, with a few puddles, but generally free of snow. We feared this would finally be one of those races where we would, of necessity, run in pretty bad weather – but fortunately, it did not rain or snow during the race. It was chilly, but not windy – and we were grateful for the conditions that we knew could have been far worse. Karen and I both ran races pretty typical of our recent performance – perhaps a few minutes slower due to conditions – and we were impressed by a strong field that included the US Naval Academy Marathon Team and a large contingent of runners from the Annapolis Striders Running Club. All in all it was a good race and an interesting trip – State #29 in our quest for 50.

Post-race thanks to Jennifer for watching Rachel over our weekend in Maryland. It always feels strange when she isn’t with us, but we enjoyed our time together and appreciated knowing she was in good hands. And should you be waiting for my “race wisdom”, don’t forget to let history teach its lessons. (Because in this case, my deepest thoughts were actually BEFORE the race and consisted of self-talk basically designed to convince me that running in the cold and snow REALLY wouldn’t be all that bad. NOT!