Stephanie's Marathon

This last week has been a very difficult time for our Team In Training family. Our hearts are aching over the loss of Stephanie Henkel to Lymphoma. It has made all of us stop, pause, and re-examine why it is we train and raise money to fight blood cancers. It has also caused us to examine our own lives and re-evaluate our priorities.



Many on our team had the privilege of only meeting Stephanie once or twice. We will remember her attending the Honored Hero BBQ at Andy Brown Park this year. She was weak and stayed in her wheelchair. But as she sat in the pavilion visiting with everyone her positive spirit was simply infectious. At one point Chris asked Stephanie if he could go get her a hot dog. "Yes", she said, "and make sure you put relish on it!" So Chris dutifully went to the other side of the pavilion, put a hot dog on a plate, and made sure it had relish on it. When he returned Stephanie jovially scoffed at him and said, "No, I need MORE relish than that!" Chris smiled, rolled his eyes and immediately went back to retrieve more relish for the hot dog. Stephanie leaned over to Jennifer Bowring sitting nearby and said, "I really didn't need more relish. I just like looking at THOSE LEGS!!!"



Last Saturday I was able to spend a few minutes with Chris Henkel as we ran together along the north side of Lake Grapevine. The topics of conversation varied. We talked about training and our kids, and of course we also discussed Stephanie's battle over the last year with Lymphoma. Chris said something that I will never forget. He said, "You know Philip, watching Stephanie go through this is like running a marathon. It is a very long, hard fight that we must endure." I readily agreed, "You are right. But when we run a marathon, we know how long it is to the finish line. We know we will run exactly 26 miles and 385 yards. But you and Stephanie don't know when the finish line will come. That has to be the difficult part." Chris soberly responded, "...or WHAT the finish line will be. That is the most difficult thing to think about."



In that moment it was obvious to both Chris and I that what we were doing was much more significant than simply putting one foot in front of the other and training for a race. We were doing more than just running marathons to raise money to fight blood cancers. For our team, running a marathon is not only an athletic event, it is a poignant metaphor for the lives of our Honored Heroes. Just like our Honored Heroes must endure, we too must endure.



There are two words we rarely use in the context of running a marathon..."Win" and "Lose". We don't talk in terms of "winning a marathon" or "losing a marathon". Instead, we use phrases like "FINISH a marathon" or "ENDURE a marathon". When we cross that final finish line we know that at least one other runner, and probably many, will have finished ahead of us. And there will likely be someone finish behind us. But who finishes ahead of us or behind us is all that important. The significance of running a marathon is in the journey itself, not just crossing the finish line. The important part of our journey is how it enriches our own lives as well as the lives of others. The significance of a marathon is not the finish line, it is the journey we take to get there.



As this week has gone by we keep hearing story after story about Stephanie and her life. We hear how she was a devoted wife to Chris and how she cared for her two children. We heard about what an incredible daughter and sister she was to her immediate family.



Our team was touched and encouraged week to week as Chris would tell us about Stephanie's up and down battle with her disease. We were all inspired as we watched Chris train for a marathon while juggling the tasks of taking care of his children, visiting Stephanie in the hospital, and holding down a full time job. And we will continue to be inspired by Chris as he runs the Nike Marathon, raises his children, and continues to be an ambassador for the Leukemia and Lymphoma Society. He will keep Stephanie's memory alive in how he lives his life. And as we train and run our events we will also keep Stephanie's spirit alive.



Stephanie's Marathon is complete. She has crossed the finish line. And my-oh-my...look at how the journey she took has touched and enriched the lives of others!

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The Oregon Double Marathon

Most said I was crazy. Others said it sound like a good idea. And a few had even accomplished the feat in previous years. For the third time in my life I decided to run 2 marathons in 2 days. But this double marathon would be unlike any other I had completed in the past. It consisted of the Crater Lake Marathon at Crater Lake National Park in southern Oregon and the Haulin’ Aspen Marathon in Bend, Oregon.


There were several reasons I decided to run these particular marathons back-to-back. First, I wanted it to be part of my “12 Marathon, 12 Months, 1 Cause” campaign to benefit the Leukemia and Lymphoma Society. These marathons would be #7 and #8 for the year. Second, I had never run any marathons in Oregon and the pictures I had seen of these two races made me confident I would come away with a memorable experience. And finally, I chose to do these races because of their unique difficulty.

The first difficult challenge would be overcoming the altitude. The Crater Lake Marathon varied in elevation from 5900 ft to 7900 ft. The Haulin’ Aspen Marathon started at 3500 ft and climbed 5500 ft. I had no idea how I would perform since I run year round in the relative low-land of Dallas, TX. The second challenge would be the constantly changing elevation. For the majority of both runs I would be running either uphill or downhill. This would turn out to be my biggest challenge. It would not be easy to train for these types of hills around the Dallas area. To prepare, I ran as many hills as I could, but the hills where I live pale in comparison to the relative mountains I would encounter during my “Oregon Double” weekend.

Day 1 – A stop at running mecca

I flew into Portland late on Thursday night. It was after midnight before I claimed my luggage, rented my car, and headed out of the airport. I made a quick overnight stop at a nearby motel to get one good night’s sleep before the long drive the next day to Crater Lake.

Friday morning I started the trek to Southern Oregon. There was a noticeable different between Oregon and Texas – the temperature. I left 104 degree weather in Texas, but here in Oregon it was “outdoor air conditioning” with a pleasant 68 degrees.

As I drove I realized I would be going through Eugene, home of the University of Oregon. Considering the theme of my running weekend, I knew I had to make a stop at the mecca of collegiate distance running…Hayward Field.

When I arrived in Eugene I quickly found the facility, parked my car, and grabbed my camera. I walked to the legendary track and snapped a couple of shots of the old grandstands and the perfectly manicured grassy infield. I put my camera in my pocket, snapped the buckle on my sandals and did a quick 400 meter jog around the hallowed oval. To me, this was the equivalent of running the bases at Yankee Stadium or Fenway Park. It was here that the great track coach Bill Bowerman spurred on his “Men of Oregon”. It was here that Steve Prefontaine ran races in his brash, lead the pack from the start, style of running. As I circled the track I could hear in my mind the echoes of the crowd chanting “Pre…Pre…Pre” as portrayed in the movies “Pre” and “Without Limits”. I only jogged one loop of the track. That was all I needed to experience. My weekend was off to a perfect start.

The drive to Crater Lake was incredibly scenic. Twice I had to pull over and take pictures of the vistas of lakes, tall trees, and mountains. I entered Crater Lake National Park from the north entry gate and then took a short drive through the high desert region just north of the lake. As you enter Rim Road alongside of this volcanic lake your breath is taken away by the enormity of this vast crater, the steep cliffs, and a lake so blue it defies description. Although I knew I needed to hurry to the south side of the lake to the Mazama campground to stake out my tent site, I simply had to stop the car, get out, and gaze at this incredible site.

I made it to the campground just in time. I claimed the last available site. Many would-be campers were turned away shortly thereafter. The popularity of the Crater Lake Rim Run Weekend caused the campground to fill up.

I set up my tent and walked to the campground restaurant that was serving an Italian buffet. I washed down the pasta with a local Oregon brew…Rogue Brewery’s Dead Guy Ale. I hoped my selection of a beer was not a foreshadowing of the challenging weekend ahead. After my carbo-loading dinner there was still plenty of daylight so I drove back to the lake to take some pictures and drive the marathon course to get a preview. I found myself pulling over at almost every scenic turnout around the lake to snap a photo and to visually absorb the scene.

While driving the course I turned on my Garmin GPS and placed it on the dashboard. I set it to show the changing elevation of the course to see what I was up against the next day. The starting line was at Watchman’s Tower at 7600 ft. The course went up and down several hundred feet at a time, bottoming out at 5900 ft and rising to just short of 8000 ft at Cloudcap Overlook. Having never run at this altitude I had no idea how it was going to affect me. I became concerned as a walked up a short flight of stairs at Rim Villiage and I noticed my breathing became quite labored. I immediately decided that the next morning I would completely ignore the time on my watch and run on “feel”.

Day 2 – The Crater Lake Marathon

After a very sleepless night in the tent I awoke to early morning temperatures in the low 30’s. I quickly disassembled my tent, put it in the trunk of the car and drove the short distance to the Mazama Village parking lot where the shuttle buses would take the runners to the starting line. At the starting line I was able to meet many of the Marathon Maniacs. Some were old faces and some were new to me. We swapped stories of marathons past and compared marathon schedules. Those that had run this course previously described it to us “rookies” and never was the word “easy” used in any of the descriptions.

After an hour of shivering in the cold air it was a relief to finally get the race started and get the blood moving. Up and down we went. On the first downhill there was a lot of jovial conversation amongst the runners. On the first big uphill all the conversation ceased and was replaced by heavy panting as we tried to adjust to the thinner air. Along the side of the road in the first few miles were remnants of last winter’s snowfall. I thought about all my friends back in Dallas doing their Saturday morning long run in the 90 degree heat and here I was running next to snow…in August!

The first 7 miles were a series of undulations that rose and fell a few hundred feet at a time. It was actually quite pleasant because just as we ran out of breath and started to feel the burning in my legs on the uphill, I would crest the top and begin descending again. At every turn was another spectacular view of the blue lake as the rising sun cast unique colors on the high cliffs of the vast crater.

Mile 8 is when things really started to get interesting. I began climbing a hill that seemed to never end. There would be the occasional relief provided by a flat section of road but that would last only a few hundred yards. I kept my eye on the elevation number on my GPS watch, 7100…7200…7300…7400.

There was a feeling of victory as I made the turnaround at Cloudcap Overlook at mile 14.5 and I knew that gravity would start to become my friend and not my enemy. My pace quickened as I allowed the downhill to pull me along. Since the half marathoners had left the course, the crowd thinned and I ran by myself for much of the next 8 miles. At many times I could not see a runner in front of me or behind me.

At mile 19 we turned off of Rim Road and began the gentle descent to the low point of the course at Lost Creek Campground just 3 miles away. I had no idea how many runners were in front of me or behind me so I asked one of the volunteers at the water stop how many had passed. I was very surprised at her exact and encouraging response. “12!”, she said, “and two of them were women.” That meant I was the 11th overall male. I did not think I would be in the top-20 of this race, much less have a chance at a top-10 placement. And in spite of the terrain I had already covered I felt surprisingly energetic. Miles 19 through 22 were my fastest 3 miles of the race.

The ease of the fast 3 miles was very short lived once I entered the Lost Creek Campground at mile 22. You see, this course is laid out like a cruel joke. The runners actually pass by the finish line at mile 22 in the campground, but there are still 4 miles to go, and the next 2 are the most difficult on the course in my opinion.

The finish line volunteers loudly cheered as I passed by and entered the dirt trail the started my climb up Greyback Mountain. My fast pace turned into a slow jog. The slow jog turned to a shuffle. And the shuffle would often turn to a walk. At each turn of the steep climb I hoped that the turnaround point at the pinnacle would be just around the corner. And at each turn I would be disappointed to find yet more climbing had to be done. Then finally, just past mile 24, was an orange cone in the middle of the trail and a table covered with cups of water and Gatorade as friendly volunteers greeted me with “Congratulations! You made it! All downhill from here!”

I had hoped the steep descent back to the finish line would mean a comfortable yet fast pace. However, by this point in the race my quadriceps were so tired that the downhill was more uncomfortable than pleasant. The finish line finally came in sight. I crossed in 3 hours, 52 minutes, and 16 seconds and as the 12th male overall.

The awards soon followed. I was a little disappointed that the race director chose to give the male and female overall winners not only an award for winning the race, but the age group award as well. That is a fairly unusual practice at races, and in my opinion, unpopular with runners since that means 2 people go home with double awards and 2 people go home without an age group award that would otherwise have received one. And in this case, I was the odd man out. The age group awards for this race went 5 deep and I officially finished 6th in the 30-30 division. But the lack of an age group ribbon did not diminish my satisfaction of having broken 4 hours on this difficult course.

I rode the bus back to the campground, took a quick 75 cent pay shower, downed a celebratory giant hot dog and Dead Guy Ale, and began the trek northward to Bend where I would be faced with the second challenge of the weekend.

After arriving in Bend I set up my tent at Tumalo State Park just north of town. That evening I drove to the town of Sisters where fellow Marathon Maniac Sean Meissner lives. Sean posted a notice on the Marathon Maniac website inviting any Maniacs in town for tomorrow’s race to his house for some home made pasta. I was happy to finally meet Sean. I had read several accounts of his past marathon and ultra-marathon wins. I consider him to be the Lance Armstrong of the multi-day stage races since he had won the Tahoe Triple Marathon for 4 straight years. The Tahoe Triple is a loop around Lake Tahoe consisting of a marathon on Thursday, another marathon on Friday, and yet another on Saturday. The best cumulative time wins.

I was joined at Sean’s house by fellow Maniacs Karen Wiggins and Van “Pigtails” Phan. We ate pasta covered in “Sean’s Mother’s Secret Recipe Sauce” while we talked about all things marathoning. It was a perfect carbo-loading dinner!!

That night I had a very restful sleep in spite of the fact my tent site was next to the campground showers. All night I could hear footsteps that seemed right next to my head as other campers walked by.

Day 3 – The Haulin’ Aspen Marathon

I packed up my tent at 5AM and drove to Summit High School where shuttle buses drove us to Shevlin Park and the start/ finish line of the race. Again, the temperatures caused me to shiver in the cold. And again, I met more Maniacs both familiar and new.

At 7AM the race began. My legs were still sore from the previous day’s run and my stiff-legged running style during the first mile resembled that of Frankenstein’s monster. A gentleman behind me joked, “Well…we can tell who ran Crater Lake yesterday!” We all laughed.

The first mile and half of this marathon was on flat pavement. It would be the last pavement we would see the entirety of the race. This was a true trail marathon. By the time we had turned onto the dirt trail my legs had loosened up and I felt somewhat normal again. My pace quickened and I was able to pass a few runners, many of which would see me again later in the race as I became the “passee” rather than the “passer”.

In my first real trail marathon I learned very quickly that there are two main guidelines to running on rocky trails. First, watch where you step. Several times I would feel a sharp rock squarely in the middle of my foot. Ouch. Second, lift your feet up. Several times my toes would be stubbed on a rock or root and I would have to quickly catch myself from falling. In six year of running I have never fallen. I was sure that today would be the day I finally bit the dust. Fortunately, I can still say my fall-free streak remains in tact. Rule #2 however became increasingly difficult throughout the day as my aching quads caused my feet to remain lower to the ground as I ran. I would kick a-many-a-rock today. I had wished I had invested in some good trail shoes before starting this race.

After 3 miles of gently undulating trails the course began to follow a small gravel road for the next 9 miles. The fist sized rocks proved difficult to run on at times. At mile 12 I checked my GPS for the elevation reading. We had only climbed about 500 feet from the starting line of 3500 ft in elevation. I knew going into the race that the course would peak at 5500 ft around mile 14 before returning on dirt trails back to Shevlin Park. The reading on my watch could only mean one thing…a steep climb was just around the corner. And as I turned the next corner I discovered I was right.

I ran up the first steep hill to the water stop at the top. I grabbed a drink and turned around to see the other side of this switchback road. I laughed as I saw yet another, longer, and much steeper hill. Running soon turned to walking. I certainly did not feel out of place walking up this incline as almost every runner within eyesight was doing the same.

When I reached the summit of that hill, I was greeted by yet another similarly steep hill, and when I reached the top of that hill, there was yet another. The repetition of the hills would have been darkly humorous had they not felt so cruel. But when I finally reached the summit I was amply rewarded for my effort with a stunning payoff. I had a spectacular view of Mt. Bachelor.

There was one flat mile of gravel road and then the terrain quickly changed as we made a sharp right hand turn, literally diving off the road and onto a single track dirt trail entering the woods. Other runners who ran the race the previous year had told me earlier that the soft, cushiony, and dusty trail with its many downhills would feel quite pleasant. I would have agreed with them had my legs been fresher. But the previous day's race had worn down my calves and quadriceps and every step on a steep decline, no matter how soft the landing, was a bit painful. At times I ran out of control as my weak legs could not adequately brake for me. I either had to let gravity pull me along, in spite of the discomfort, or I could fall flat on my face to stop myself. I winced as I decided it would be more prudent to remain vertical rather than become a bleeding casualty. Fortunately, the steep declines lasted only a mile or two, and then the trail flattened out.

At several points on this section of the course I was greeted by some natural obstacle. I climbed over a couple of boulders and I lept over a few fallen trees. (Ok, there was no actual leaping. It was more of a gingerly step) While dodging tree branches and climbing rocks I thought of the incredible diversity between running a trail marathon and running a large city marathon like New York, Chicago, or Boston. My, my! What a unique and diverse sport we have.

The soreness in my legs became more and more pronounced so I was passed by quite a few runners. Since it was a single track narrow trail I would follow the rules of the road and politely step to the side as I heard others approaching. I became discouraged when I reached the 17-mile water station. My GPS actually read 18.6 miles. I was a full mile and a half behind where I thought I was! (Later, other runners confirmed to me that they thought this water stop seemed to mismarked to them as well.) I knew the tree cover would cause an offset in the distance reading on my GPS, but not that much.

At the 20-mile water stop the half marathon course joined with the marathon course. Since the half marathoners started 90 minutes after the marathon I found plenty of new fresh-legged companions to run with. I quickly learned that these new found friends were not only great to chat with was we ran single file, but by simply following close behind them and concentrating on repeating their footsteps, I felt as though I could be “pulled along” at a quicker pace than my previous pedestrian-like speed.

When we came to the next water stop I was met with a nice surprise. At the time, I was certain I had a full 3 miles to go to the finish line, taking into account the offset I thought I had on my GPS. But I discovered my GPS had mis-measured in the other direction as I heard the friendly volunteer cheer, “Only 1.7 miles to go!” I was thrilled at that news. The last bit was on a soft and flat trail and I moved along nicely in spite of my fatigue. The sooner I got to the finish, the sooner I could stop.

At last, the finish line appeared. The announcer called my name and I heard a fellow Maniac yell, “Hey Philip! Way to do the Double!”, as he snapped my picture. I finished in a little over 5 hours. (I discovered later in the week that I had finished 3rd in my age group. I found that ironic considering I finished 79th overall and given the lack of an age group award the previous day, though I had a much faster time. Age group awards are not that important to me, but this weekend showed me that more than ever, these awards can be more about who is or isn’t in your age group than how fast or slow you run.)

I crossed the finish line elated that not only had I run 2 marathons in 2 days, but these two marathons were bar none, the two toughest marathons I had ever run. I could put marathons #45 and #46 in the books.

The finisher’s medal of the Haulin’ Aspen Marathon is one of the most unique in the country. It is a blue cowbell with the Haulin’ Aspen logo painted on the front. The entire finish line area sounded like a cattle drive or a dairy barn as these highly audible medals clanked while draped around the necks of all the runners.

I sat down on the grass with a bottle of electrolyte drink and some food. Now that I was on the ground I discovered I had one very large problem…getting back up.

For the next several hours I walked around VERY slowly. I drove to downtown Bend for some much deserved Mexican food. As I walked down the sidewalk I could sense other people staring or giggling at my old-man like shuffle. A few even said, “You must have run the race this morning”. I so badly wanted to answer with “Yes I did. And yesterday’s race as well!”

My tent site that night was the most picturesque in the three nights of camping. I slept only a few feet from the Deshutes River. All night long I could hear only the relaxing sounds of the rushing water.

Conclusion

The following day I was able to loosen my legs by walking around some of the sights Bend had to offer. I took the chair lift near the top of Mt. Bachelor and hiked the short distance to the summit. I realized this would make the third time in my life I had been to the top of a mountain the day after completing a marathon. Pikes Peak in Colorado Springs, CO and Camelback Mtn. in Scottsdale, AZ were the other two. I guess there is something slightly poetic about standing on top of a mountain after conquering the marathon distance.

For lunch, I walked into a local bagel shop. The owner had been reading the newspaper and as he made my lunch I asked him if I could take a glance at the sports section hoping to find some coverage of yesterday's race. When I opened it up, right there on the front page in full color, was a picture of me running up the trail around mile 3. What a cool surprise.

I drove the short distance to Tumalo Falls, snapped some more pictures, and headed back to Portland to catch a red-eye flight home. The drive up scenic Hwy 20 and Hwy 22 was very memorable. Just north of Sister, OR I drove under a large smoky cloud created by large forest fires. The sun shining through the haze cast an eerie orange glow on the landscape.

So now that my “Oregon Double” weekend is complete the question I must ask myself is “Was it worth it?” I have to answer with a resounding “YES!” The memories and sense of accomplishment will last a lot longer than the sore muscles I brought back home with me.

I was asked several times by others back in Dallas why I would try something like this. I could never quite formulate an accurate response on the spot. Several have accomplished the same double marathon and several ran them faster than I did. Others have accomplished even more difficult feats. But still others would never dream of trying something like this. So the answer to the question becomes very personal -> It is to push my own limits beyond what I thought was once possible. To some, those limits may involve running 52 marathons in a year, like Van “Pigtails” Phan is doing this year. To others, it may mean running 50 marathons in 50 states like Sam Thompson has just accomplished and Dean Karnazes will attempt later this year. To others, their physical barrier may be running their first marathon, or their first 5k, or even running around the block. But the important fact is that we all have a choice. We all can choose to push our limits to see what is possible, or we can cower away from these challenges.

And to me, personally, when I first heard of this difficult double marathon I knew it was something I had to try. I also knew I could do it, even though it wouldn’t be easy.

The payoff for the weekend was not just the spectacular vistas I viewed, the finisher’s medals around my neck, or even the bragging rights to completing both races. It is the deep personal satisfaction of having pushed myself through a difficult task. And now I know I can be prepared to take on the next difficult challenge I choose to conquer.

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You are being watched.

You are making a difference, and people are watching.

Everyone was grumpy. It was a very frustrating layover at the airport.

I arrived at the airport early to hopefully catch a flight home after a short business trip. Storms in Dallas had delayed most flights into DFW. The airline agent reserved me a seat on an earlier flight. I waited and waited as throughout the afternoon the flight departure time became later and later. When it was finally scheduled to leave many of us in the terminal watched passengers begin boarding for another flight to Dallas in the gate right next to ours. Ironically the flight to Dallas that was now boarding was my original flight before I switched. Many of the passengers waiting in the terminal did the same thing. We all felt burned by the airline as it seemed we would never get home.



I overheard conversations filled with moaning and complaining about the delay. As the other flight to Dallas at the nearby gate began boarding the complaining became more audible. Our airplane finally arrived and we all stood patiently waiting for our plane to empty its passengers so we could board and finally go home. There was nothing unusual about the passengers coming off the ramp. We were happy to see them getting off "our plane".

Then something happened that changed the grumpy demeanor of everyone in the terminal. It was the arrival of two young men stepping off the ramp that turned everyone's head. These young men were no more than 25 years old. They were wearing the familiar tan colored fatigues signifying they were in a branch of the military. One could only assume they were returning home from either Iraq or Afghanistan. A young woman ran forward and leapt into the arms of one of the young men. She kissed him over and over. She kissed every inch of his face and wouldn't let go of him. He lifted her off the ground as they embraced. They walked off together arm in arm. The other young man was quickly surrounded by presumably his family. There was Mom, Dad, a teenage brother, a teenage sister and a small little girl. Everyone in the family wore a yellow ribbon on their chests and all had tears in their eyes. Even the 14 yr old younger brother was openly weeping with joy at the arrival of his big brother. The young soldier hugged each member of the family, not once, but twice.

I looked around. The entire terminal was silent. Every set of eyes was watching this very personal and emotional reunion. Then I looked more closely. Grown men in business suits were wiping moisture from their eyes. These were the very same men who moments ago were complaining about the flight delays. I couldn't squelch the lump in my throat and the tears that began to gather in my eyes. The two soldiers walked off with their families and we boarded the plane.

I don't know where those two young men were stationed or what their jobs were. I don't know if they carried weapons into the front lines of battle, if they worked fixing jeeps, or if they were even in Iraq or Afghanistan at all. But one thing I do know - these two young men meant everything to the small group of people that were there to greet them. It was also significant to me that despite the bond they felt with their families they made the personal sacrifice to be away from home for a long time to serve an important role in the military. Those of us in the terminal watching this reunion couldn't help but feel like we were the benefactors of their sacrifice. They were making a difference.

As a participant in TNT you are making a difference. You are doing your part to serve a greater good. You are benefiting not only the Honored Heroes on our team but countless others you have never met who suffer with a blood related cancer. What you are doing is not necessarily anonymous. You are being watched. People sit up and take notice that you are tackling the challenge of a marathon. They watch the sacrifices you make to complete your training and fundraising.

Your children notice your absence each Saturday morning and they hopefully understand the gravity of what you are doing...you are making a difference and they are watching.

When your teammates, mentors and coaches see you training we notice how hard you work and how much fun (or lack of fun) you are having...you are making a difference and we are watching.

Your spouse or significant other may be greatly supportive or perhaps a little less supportive than you would like. Either way, they see you setting a goal and reaching it. They should be very proud of you. You are making a difference and they are watching.

Your extended family, friends, and co-workers hear all the stories about your training runs and races. They hear of the fun you have with your team. They are probably impressed that you decided to do something that they see as crazy but touched that you are doing it for charity...you are making a difference and they are watching.

When you toe the starting line of your final event you will be proudly wearing a purple singlet bearing the words "Team In Training". People all along the course will know that you are not only running for yourself but for others. You are making a difference and they are watching.

Most importantly, those who have suffered from blood related cancers see your personal sacrifice, your enthusiasm, and your determination to reach the finish line. Parents of the honored heroes too young to understand what you are doing are watching you. The joy they feel stands in sharp contrast to the helplessness they felt when they heard the doctor use the word "cancer" to describe their child's diagnosis. To our honored heroes and families you are making the biggest difference...and they are most definitely...watching.

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Why Not Me?

Meb Keflezighi was born in the small African country of Eritrea. His tiny nation was ravaged by war. He tells stories from his childhood of how he and his brothers hid in the bushes when enemy soldiers would pass through the village. At the age of 10 his family fled the country, immigrated to the US, and settled in California. For all intents and purposes, Meb is an American. He was raised as an American, attended UCLA on a running scholarship, and represented the United States in the Athens Olympics in the men's marathon.

Meb has become one of America's top distance runners and holds many American records. But when he lined up at the starting line of the Olympic Marathon on that hot day 2 years ago, he was not one of the favorites to win a medal. Some in the media said that this particular Olympic Marathon contained the greatest collection of marathoning talent ever assembled. Among the many favorites to win the event was the current world record holder, the great Paul Tergat of Kenya.

Meb prepared for months for this one event. He knew that the competition would be stiff. He knew that he would have to run a perfect race and stick to his pacing plan just to have a chance at the top-10, much less a chance to end up on the medal podium. At the halfway mark Meb was well back in 24th place and more than 40 seconds behind the leaders. The lead pack contained many experienced and talented marathoners including Paul Tergat. But Meb began to push his pace and make his move towards the leaders. He knew that he would need to push harder than he ever pushed to have a chance of catching up. There were so many strong runners ahead of him that most would have understood with being content of obtaining a personal best time on a difficult course on a hot day. But Meb did not come to Athens to run a personal best...he came to get a medal. It was at that moment, at the halfway mark, that Meb uttered three words to himself that would mean the difference. Those three words propelled him to an Olympic silver medal, the first time in 28 years that an American obtained an Olympic medal in the men's marathon. Meb remembered how much he had prepared for this event and uttered the words in his head, "Why not me?"

Meb could have given himself plenty of reasons he did not deserve a medal. He did not have a stellar running career at UCLA. He only placed second in the US Olympic Trials behind Alan Culpepper to barely earn a spot on the team. He has even had to deal with subtle racism throughout his career. There is a sense that he is not a "true" American because he was born in Eritrea and obtained his US citizenship later in life. Some not familiar with distance running label him as "just another fast African runner", in spite of the fact all of his training was in the US. He could have easily settled for a finish in the top-20, or even in the top-10, and then returned to the US with his head held high for being well prepared. But Meb had put in hours and hours of training specific to the hilly course and hot weather in Athens. He told himself that he deserved better than 24th. That one little rhetorical question of three words propelled him to attain a goal that others would have thought impossible.

We can learn from Meb and what he did in the fall of 2004. One of the questions I hear from people that sign up for TNT is, "Can I really do this?" I will always answer that question with, "Why not?".

When we have challenges placed in front of us, like raising thousands of dollars for blood-cancer patients or finishing our first marathon we are tempted to allow ourselves to enter into a world of self-doubt. Our thoughts can become self-defeating like, "I have never raised this much money, how do I ask people?" or "I have never run in my life so how can I run 26.2 miles?" Instead, the only way to attain new heights of success is to first remove the self-doubt and to tell ourselves we DESERVE to enjoy the fruits of our labor.

The next time you lace up your shoes but you don't think you can have a productive training run then ask yourself, "Why not me?"

The next time you think you can't cover that number of miles laid out on your training schedule then ask yourself, "Why not me?"

The next time you hesitate sending out fundraising letters or hesitate to improve your fundraising website all because you don't think you can raise enough money then ask yourself, "Why not me?"

The next time you stand behind a starting line of a marathon and you don't think you can complete the distance then ask yourself, "Why not me?"

The next time you are in the final mile of a local 5k race and you are on the verge of running a personal best time, but your legs are burning with fatigue, ask yourself, "Why not me?"

The next time you are come across a steep hill that you don't think you can climb, ask yourself, "Why not me?"

The next time you challenge yourself to increase your running to walking ratio, but don't think you can run that much at one time, ask yourself, "Why not me?"

The next time you think you don't deserve to set a new standard or enjoy some success, ask yourself, "Why not me?"

It constantly amazes me how running, or more specifically, training for a marathon, can provide so many good metaphors for life in general. Don't we all deserve to be successful at what we do? Don't we deserve to make ourselves a better runner, a better parent, a better spouse, and a better person? But many times the only barrier to success in life is overcoming our own self-doubt. That's when we simply convince ourselves that we DO deserve success. Then we must ask ourselves those three little words, "Why not me?"

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Running with the Maniacs

My trip to the Seattle area had a three fold purpose. First, I wanted to see my brother and his family in Vancouver. I actually booked my flight into Vancouver so I could spend time with family. Second, I wanted to run a good summer marathon. Marathons during the summer are tough to find. You generally have to travel north to find one. I had not yet run a marathon in Washington state so the Seafair Marathon in Bellevue made a lot of sense. Third, I wanted to meet many members of the Marathon Manaics. I have talked with many of the Maniacs via email and the website bulletin board. But some 30+ Maniacs were planning on running the Seafair Marathon and this was a chance to get to meet many of them in person. I was not disappointed at the entire experience.

After flying into Vancouver and spending one night at my brother's house I rented a car to take to Seattle. I immediately went to the marathon expo and picked up my chip and number. The expo was small but seemed to be well run. The best part of the expo was the customized pace bracelets for the Seafair race. The race course is relatively hilly and the pace bracelet took this into account and varied the mile-to-mile pace relative the elevation changes. It would certainly come in handy the next day.

After checking into the hotel in Bellevue my next stop would be the Italian restaurant at the foot of the Space Needle in Seattle. The Maniacs had planned a big pre-race pasta loading dinner at Buca Di Beppo. About 20 members of the club were in attendance.

It was good to finally put some faces to some names. This was a fascinating dinner because of the conversations that were taking place. You see, to my running and non-running friends alike I'm a bit of an odd ball. I run a lot of marathons. If there is a marathon starting line I can get to then I'm making an effort to run the race. Many people look at what I do with a bit of admiration but most view me as mostly crazy. So far this year I've run 9 marathons. To most that would be a lot. But amongst this group of dinner companions I was very normal. In fact, I was but an amateur, a baby even. Consider the following snippets of conversation that took place. (I may not have all the numbers exactly correct, but you'll get the idea.)

Chris: "So Sue, how many marathons are you up to now?"
Sue: "Tomorrow will be number 65"
Chris: "Shoot. I should be running tomorrow. You got me beat. I'm ONLY at 64."

Greg: "Philip, have you reached number 100 yet?"
Philip: "No, tomorrow will ONLY be number 33. I've got a ways to go."

Chris: "Gunhild, meet Philip. He came all the way from Texas. Philip, did you know Gunhild did the Western States 100 miler 2 weeks ago. She also won her age group at Boston this year."
Philip : "Wow!"

Chris: "Hey Steve, you gonna run yet another Boston qualifier?"
Steve: "No, the last 2 marathons in the last 2 straight weekends were kinda rough. I'll probably go a bit slower tomorrow"

Philip: (after meeting Bob Dolphin. Bob is 75 years old and run 362 marathons) "It is good to finally meet you. I've heard a lot about you. When did you do your first marathon."
Bob: "Oh awhile back. I was 51 when I ran my first marathon."

(Morning of the race)
Chris: "Philip, meet fellow Texan Larry Macon from San Antonio. Hey Larry, isn't this number 41 for you this year?"
Larry: "No...just number 40"

This was an amazing group of people. Marathon Maniacs vary as much in ages as they do in average finishing times. But they all share one thing in common...they love to run marathons. I went back to my motel energized by meeting so many like-minded runners.

The morning of the race I was able to easily find a parking spot in a nearby parking garage. I had a very short walk to the park near the starting line. It wasn't long before Maniacs began showing up. First a little group of runners in the signature yellow Maniac singlets began congregating in one corner of the park. Then another small group began congregating in another area. Maniac founder Chris showed up with the digital camera and asked us to pose for a group shot. We did. Wait, here come some more Maniacs. Runners in yellow began popping up from everywhere. They were running out from behind trees and from port-o-let lines. It was sea of yellow singlets in the park. Before long, we had a big group photo of many Maniacs.

We began making our way to the marathon starting line. I heard the announcer say after he noticed all the yellow clad runners, "Well that should clear the park. The Marathon Maniacs are headed to the starting line".
Guess who I found at the starting line? Yep, more Maniacs. There was Maniac founder Tony with perpetual marathon winner Maniac Annie. Annie has won 7 marathons in the last year. She recently broke 3 hrs for the first time. I introduced myself to Annie congratulating her on the incredible streak that I've been following. It was an honor to finally meet her. I asked if she and Tony were going to pace each other to another sub-3 hour finish. Smiling she coolly relied, "Nope, I'm going to kick his a.. today!!" Laughter ensued. You have to understand, Annie is probably one of the nicest people you would ever want to meet. But once the starting gun fires she makes the superhero-like transformation from the mild-mannered Annie to the marathon goddess "ANNimAL".

There were more group photos of Maniacs from all over the country. Finally the starting gun went off and we were headed up Bellevue Way for the first mile. It was time to start concentrating on pace. I made it a bit of a game by using my GPS and customized pace band trying to hit each mile marker at the prescribed split. The first 10 miles featured fast downhills at a sub-7 minute pace and a few small climbs where the pace went over 8-minutes.

Maniac Steve Supkoff from Washington and Maniac Keith Panzer from Colorado joined me for most of the first half of the course. They were welcome companions as we paced ourselves through the early miles.

Overall, it was a very scenic course. But it was also quite challenging. Mile 8 featured the steepest hill on the course. It was a bone-jarring downhill section. I greatly adapted my stride to alleviate the stress on my body. I tried to keep my feet as low to the ground as possible. In spite of looking like an out of control penguin rolling down the hill I couldn't keep the vibrations of the harsh impact from resonating throughout my entire body and into my jaw.

After the sharp drop we found ourselves running along a scenic road bordering Lake Sammamish. It was along this section that I began to make up a little time. My pace bracelet was for a 3:15 finish. I began to very slowly move ahead of pace and by mile 15 I was about 60 seconds ahead. It looked like it was going to be a good day but I knew the toughest part of the course was just around the corner.

It was during this section along the lake that I was unnerved by seeing Annie on the side of the road. She was there with Maniacs Tony and Ruben and a couple of medics. She was standing but was certainly not having a good day. It was good to see Ruben and Tony had stopped their race to make sure Annie was ok. I wasn't sure what the problem was and if her race day was over.

In contrast to seeing Annie in trouble, right around the corner was perhaps the most humorous portion of the course. You know those electronic signs you sometimes see on the road that contain a radar gun and tell you how fast you are going in hopes of slowing drivers down? There was one right on the course. And it was registering the speed of the oncoming runners. I was a little unnerved that it registered me at 14 mph. Huh? I'm running a marathon...not a 100 meter sprint! So much for the accuracy of radar guns. Maybe I can use that in court the next time I fight a speeding ticket. "You see your honor...one time I ran this marathon..."

Around the 15th mile we began our climb back towards Bellevue. We entered a small trail with a few quick switchbacks. I caught Maniac Terry Sentinella who encouraged me to press on towards a good time. I was hitting the prescribed splits on the pace bracelet fairly accurately. But around mile 18 we hit another tough section of the course and I began to slow down finally. At the top of the hill Steve Supkoff assured me that we had reached the “top” of the course and it would be mostly downhill. “Philip, if you are going to go, go now”, he encouraged.

My pace quickened. Slowing down through the tough sections caused me to be about 90 seconds behind goal pace and I needed to make up some time. I wanted to whittle away at the deficit a little bit each mile. I began passing people. When I hit the 22 mile marker I was discouraged to see I was still 90 seconds down in spite of my best efforts. I was physically spent and I began to have mild stomach cramps. A 3:15 just wasn’t in the cards on this day. I readjusted my goal to make it my second fastest marathon. It would turn out to be a worthy goal given the relative difficulty of this course.

I plodded my way through the final 4 miles as best I could. I made the final turn towards the finish line and crossed it with arms raised in a second personal best 3 hours and 23 minutes and 9 seconds. And there to greet me with a big hug at the finish line was Lenore Dolphin. In spite of a few problems I was very satisfied with the race.

The finish line area was well stocked with food and beverage for all the runners. There was a grandstand with a band playing and various vendor tents throughout the park to give it a carnival-like atmosphere.

I hung out at the finish line swapping war stories with all the Maniacs. Remember Annie who had some troubles early on the race? She crossed the finish line in 3:47. “Lots of walking”, she said. She seemed a little embarrassed by her time. But in my book, that is pretty impressive to go ahead and finish the race under 4 hours when you have physical problems before reaching the halfway point. Way to go Annie !

I couldn’t stay much longer as I needed to check out of the hotel and head back to Vancouver. I shook a lot of Maniac hands and gave my good-byes. “See you at the next one” was a common statement. And with the Marathon Maniacs…the next marathon is always sooner rather than later.

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The Little Rock Marathon Race Report

The Little Rock Marathon was on March 6th, 2005. It was 3rd year of the event and my 2nd time to run the race.

I enjoy racing in Little Rock because I can meet up with my in-laws who make the drive from NE Arkansas. This year my wife Lisa couldn't make the trip for work reasons. Naturally her parents were more than happy to make the trip if I brought along their grandkids.

Last year I was very impressed with the race organization . But it was also one of the most difficult marathon courses I had run. This year they decided to slightly modify the course and I looked forward to seeing how it compared to the previous year.

I planned on running the race conservatively given the difficulty of the course. This would also be my first attempt at 2 marathons within a week. Last weekend I ran the Cowtown Marathon in Fort Worth. During that race I found that it worked well for me to avoid running even splits. I would vary my pace depending on the terrain. Once again I put a pacing plan on a piece of athletic tape attached to my Garmin GPS as a reference. It reflected slower and faster paces matching the uphills and downhills of the course. I even had a spreadsheet at home that helped me calculate what my relative effort should be during each mile.

I was fairly apprehensive going into the race. I had run a personal best the week before but I didn't know if the short rest would mean I would blow up with bad time or if I would continue to run well. I also did not sleep well the prior week. I was quite tired on the 5 hour drive to Arkansas. Fortunately my in-laws saved the day by keeping my 1 year old in their room the night before the race. It meant I could get a good night sleep.

I paid an extra $15 in my registration for the Hatcher Perks Tent. It was worth every penny. Some of the amenities the perks tent offered before the race were a big breakfast spread, private port-o-lets so you could avoid long lines, sinks to wash your hands, and massage tables. The perks tent was also available after the race with all the same amenities. There was one perk that should not be taken for granted - chairs. It was nice to have a comfortable place to sit both before and after the event.

A few minutes before the starting gun I found the 3:15 pace group. Tom Brennan from Oklahoma was once again leading the group. We ran together for awhile last year. In fact, there were several familiar faces from the pacing group of a year ago. My plan called for running with this group for 8 miles before backing off. When the 8 mile marker came along I wished Tom and his group the best of luck as they slowly pulled away. It seemed unnatural to not push right along with a pace group but the decision to not follow them at their pace would pay off later.

The first half of the course was a good tour of the city. After crossing the Arkansas River twice we ran by the Clinton Presential Library, the Governor's Mansion, and the historic site of Central High School before returning downtown to the shadow of the capitol building. I would describe the first half of the course as gently rolling. The best part of the first 13 miles is how friendly it is for spectators. The cloverleaf pattern allows family and friends to see runners 3 times while only walking just a few blocks.

The start of the second half features the first real challenge. Miles 14 through 17 are one continuous climb. If you attack this section too hard you will pay for it later. I wisely backed off before the quick descent towards Rebesman Park forced me to pick up the pace as I had planned.

Miles 18 through 24 are a flat out and back section near the Arkansas River. This was the biggest change from the previous year. Last year the same out and back section was longer. They took away some of that distance in favor of more time downtown during the first half. It was a very good change.

At mile 19 I was about to pass a runner and he noticed my yellow Marathon Maniacs singlet and said, "Hey! A fellow maniac!" It was Maniac Keith Panzer from Colorado. We ran together for the next 4 miles swapping marathon stories and stats. I was glad to have someone to run toe to toe with. We pushed each other through some hard miles at a difficult point in the race. Keith is attempting to run a Boston Qualifying time in all 50 states. That's not the most impressive part of his marathoning resume'. The most impressive stat is that he only has 7 more states remaining to marathon in all 50 states and only has to revisit 6 previous states to run a qualifier!! And yes, he made his qualifying time for Arkansas in this race with 2 1/2 minutes to spare.

Near mile 23 Keith and I got separated at a water stop and I pushed forward. The toughest part of the course was coming up - a big climb back towards downtown. I managed to work my way up the final hill without too much trouble. I was grateful I had run conservatively earlier in the race. For some reason at the 25 mile marker a wave of nausea overtook me. I pushed through it remembering what Paula Radcliffe had said about the nausea she felt in the final mile just before winning the last NYC marathon, "You can always throw up at the finish line." The nausea soon passed and I was happy to see the finish line in front of the capitol building.

I finished in 3:25:52. I was elated. This was my second best time out of 27 marathons and it came just 8 days after setting a personal best. Race director Geneva Hampton gave me a high five after I crossed the finish line. I congratulated her on the course improvements and the spectacular day.

I was reunited with my family a short time later after getting some food. My son was getting tired so my in-laws took him back to the hotel for a nap and my daughter hung out with me in the perks tent. I was able to wash pizza down with some ice cold beer - yet another nice perk.

After a little over an hour my daughter and I headed to the area they were posting results. I was curious to see if I placed in my age group. Suddenly there was a substantial elevation in the noise coming from the finish line area. The announcer's voice got louder and a din of applause erupted. I saw a hoard of photographers and cameras flashing. The hubbub was Govenor Huckabee of Arkansas finishing his first marathon.

Moments later I saw the governor stumble over to the perks tent for his post race massage. The group of reporters walked backwards trying to capture every word from the govenor with their microphones. As we were walking back to the hotel a few moments later we saw the governor sitting down on a small concrete retaining wall with his elbows on his knees and his head down. He was dripping sweat from head to toe. He looked whipped. I was tempted to shake his hand and offer my congratulations. But somehow I thought it best to leave him alone. He didn't look like he needed any company.

No matter what your politics may be you have to tip your hat to the govenor. Running a marathon is a worthy feat. But many politicians have run marathons. George Bush, Al Gore, Sen. Bill Frist of Tennessee, Gov. Rick Perry of Texas and many other public figures have covered the 26.2 miles at some point in their lives. Gov. Huckabee made it his mission to be an example of good health by running a marathon AFTER losing a whopping 110 pounds while in office. Arkansas happens to be the second most obese state in the country. Crossing the finish line was not just any political photo op. This was a great example. Good job governor!

And great job Little Rock Marathon! This has become one of my favorite races and I'll be back next year. I could only suggest a few improvements - like posting the results on the website a little bit quicker instead of 2 days later. But the pluses far outweigh any negatives. This is the only race I've ever run where there are energy gels at multiple water stops. The course was a big improvement over last year both in scenery and it relief of some of last year's difficulty. It is still a fairly difficult course but not so physically demanding that it takes away from the enjoyment. The volunteers were plentiful and all the water stops were enthusiastically manned. This race really pays attention to every detail.

Oh, and the finisher's medal...now that is some serious BLING!!!

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It’s Not About The Medal

I woke up Saturday morning not intending on attempting to qualify for Boston. But…

For 3 years now it has been my ultimate goal to overtake that time standard set by the Boston Athletic Association that determines if you get to enter the oldest and most prestigious marathon on the planet. In my mind, running the Boston marathon is not the goal. Qualifying for the race is the real reward.

I had intended to qualify two weeks earlier in Austin. The Freescale Marathon in Austin has the fast course and generally good weather. All my training was geared towards the race in Austin. But the morning of the marathon a thunderstorm rolled through followed by intense sunshine. The next day the newspaper said it was the perfect day to WATCH a marathon, not to run one. It was like a sauna. I crashed and burned early on in the humidity and I finished considerably short of my goal. In terms of qualifying and the training I had done it was a complete disaster.

But the weather for the Cowtown marathon two weeks later was perfect - mid-40’s and no wind. There was the occasional slight drizzle helping keep the runners cool. The Cowtown course is best described as rolling. I would not categorize it as a fast course thus it is very difficult to maintain a constant pace. I knew this going into the race so I devised a pacing plan that contained variable splits. I used the elevation chart to determine when I needed to speed up and when to slow down. I wrote the plan on a small piece of athletic tape I attached to my Garmin GPS on my wrist. The goal was to have a solid run, nothing more. Qualifying for Boston on the Cowtown course would be tough. All I wanted to do was put myself in a good position pace wise so that if I felt good I could give it a go and make it under the wire.

The pacing plan worked to perfection. I slowed down on the uphills and surged on the downhills. I crossed the half at a perfect 1:37:30. Miles 16, 17, and 18 were fairly rough. I knew if I could survive them I could surge the final miles and obtain a personal best time and a possible chance at a qualifier. Miles 20-23 were the fastest I’ve ever run at that stage in a marathon. Could this be the day? Could a qualifier happen unexpectedly on a tougher course just 2 weeks after a huge disappointment? The only way to find out was to give it everything I had the final three miles. It was time to leave it all on the course. I calculated that I needed to average about 7 minutes per mile to make it. I had just run a couple of miles close to that pace so I knew I had the capability. I just had to dig deep. It was what I called “Game time”.

The previous year I had run the Cowtown marathon, but only the first two legs of the relay. I was familiar with the course only through mile 18. After that it was all new territory for me. With only two miles remaining I made the turn back towards downtown. While looking towards the skyline of Fort Worth my heart just sank…it was uphill. And there was a 10mph wind coming out of east directly in my face. This was the closest I had ever come to the qualifying standard so I determined to push as hard as possible. Giving up was not an option.

The 25th mile marker came along and there was another turn into a steeper hill. I glanced at my watch. I was unable to do simple math in my head from the exhaustion, but I knew I would have to run hard. I made one final turn towards the finish line. I could now see the clock in the distance. I heard someone shout “just 4 more blocks!!”. I looked down at my watch…3:15:57, 3:15:58, 3:16:00. It was over. I was 4 blocks short.

(Note: Though my qualifying time is 3:15, the BAA allows the truncation of seconds, so my actual standard for my age is 3:15:59)

I was still surging as hard as I could to the finish. Jennifer and Dawn were running next to me yelling something and all I could respond was, “Look at the clock! Look at the clock! I can’t believe the clock.” I crossed the finish line in 3:16:57 - just 58 seconds separated me from a ticket to the starting line in Hopkinton, MA on April 18th. I was 4 blocks short of my goal after working hard for 26 miles. That very thought overwhelmed me. How could I work so hard and come up just short? There would be no more legitimate chances to qualify in 2005.

At that point in the finish line area I did what just seemed natural - I cried like a little girl who had her lunch money stolen. I really didn’t want to. I’m not a dramatic guy. Having just finished a marathon my emotions weren’t exactly buried deep.

Then something happened that I’ll never forget. At the time it was a little bit funny. But the more I think about, the more it has taught me. After I got my medal and Mylar blanket a finish line volunteer saw my unstable emotional state and put her arm around me. “Are you hurt? Are you ok?” she asked. Through the tears I said, “No, I’m fine, but I just missed going to Boston by only a minute.” She walked with me and said, “Oh no! I’m so sorry! I know how important that must have been to you. But it will be ok, because you did well, and…I love you.” The look on my face must have been priceless as those words stunned me a little. I guess I looked at her a little perplexed because she followed with, “And do you know what else? God loves you too.” I know that must have elicited a smile from my face.

I continued through the finish line area to the food tent. I found a chair and sat down completely stunned by what had just happened. Then the funniest thought went through my head. “If God loved me, then why did he send a head wind for the final two miles of the marathon?” I couldn’t help but laugh at the irony.

No matter what your theology is the finish line volunteer spoke of a truth in those few little words that turned a tremendous disappointment into a tremendous life lesson. What she really told me was, “There are some things bigger than you and there is always something more important than you. Never lose sight of that”. She couldn’t have been more right.

Running can be a mixed blessing. On the one hand it gives us the context in which we set lofty goals and go after them such as running our first marathon or setting a personal best at a given distance. We use it to get into shape and improve our conditioning. However, what happens when we fall short of our goals? What happens when we have setbacks like injuries? What happens when we don’t see personal improvements? Running can be a great friend who sometime will kick us the shin.

The irony is that sometimes in our weaknesses and failures we stumble onto greater truths. In the case of running it can show us that there are things more important and bigger than what we selfishly want.

For example, running is part of a path to good health. But staying in shape is also good for our children and those around us we love. It hopefully means we will live longer. I want to be around a long time to see my kids grow up and have their own kids. And hopefully I’ll be healthy enough to see them have kids as well. I want to set an example for my children that they too will live a healthy lifestyle. It is so much more than the vanity of trying to stay young.

Running is also about relationships. Over the past few years I’ve developed tons of friendships I wouldn’t otherwise have had through running. Those friendships are so much more important than the times on a finish line clock. I’ll have those friendships no matter if I am fast or slow. They’ll be with me if I’m overweight or underweight.

But most importantly for our team, the biggest truth happens when we don the purple singlet bearing the words “Team In Training”. That’s when we are running for something much greater. We are running for life itself. We run to celebrate the lives of those who have survived a blood related cancer and we run to remember those who didn’t. We run for those parents of small kids with blood diseases to let them know they are not alone in what must be a very lonely and helpless battle they feel they are fighting.

I’ll keep setting running goals and trying to reach them and I know you will too. But when we fall short we must remember that there is always something greater…and that is really why we run.

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My Entry Into the World of Blogging

Raise your glasses of Kool-Aid everyone...I'm about to drink up. Blogging! I go jumping in with both feet.

I don't know how this will end. I'm hoping this will be an ongoing and never ending journey through very small labyrinth which is my stream of consciousness. Maybe the audience will be small. Maybe the audience will one day be large. Hopefully I'll provoke some thoughts. But mainly, this will be historical documents of my random thoughts and writings.

My intention is to not let this thing die or go stale. The most important thing to me is that it is always dyanmic. Constantly changing.

I can predict that most of what is written will be my thoughts on running. Some will hopefully be humorous, some serious, some philosophical, and the occassional rant. I'll even throw in my thoughts about a movie or TV show. Who knows, I may delve into dangerous realm of politics.

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