Running Between Great Lakes

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

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

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.