Tribute to a tiny athlete

I don't want to write about running today. Bear with me. Yesterday I lost B.J., our beagle-jack russell mix.  His death was a bizarre finish to a three-week saga, ever since a neighboring pit bull attacked him. We thought he had recovered fine from the wounds, but he died in his sleep sometime yesterday afternoon.

    Like my husband says, B.J. was a pain in the neck. He barked too much, probably trying to compensate for his small stature. He was obsessively motivated by food, leaping or scampering wildly for it, never mind who might be in his way. But even Bob loved how B.J. embodied a dog's finest trait: he lived in, and loved, the here and now. Always eager for whatever came his way. Walks, runs, treats, car rides. Laying down wherever sunlight pooled on soft carpet. Shoving his wet little nose under my arm so I had to hug him. And most Saturdays, his trip to Disney Land: a hike in the woods, where he would triple our mileage by darting in and out of the underbrush, on the trail of a rabbit or anything else that smelled interesting. That's when my lapdog turned hunter, all instinct and muscle. He was an endurance athlete -- I never saw him tire, which is why watching him recover slowly from his attack wounds was so gut-wrenching.

    The house feels far too quiet this morning. I keep sensing the ghost of B.J., coming from under the table to put his paws on my leg, or turning the corner into the kitchen because I've opened the refrigerator door. 

    Our elder statesman, Chandler, sleeps on the couch; he's the dog we keep expecting to be pass away soon. I love Chandler for his wisdom and his calm, his devotion and his distinguished looks. But I loved B.J. for his energy, his enthusiasm, and our mutual fondness for the tactile. He loved to be held; I loved holding him. 

    I'd come home from my long runs on Saturday mornings, put on a dry shirt, heat up a cup of coffee, and scoop BJ up into my lap. He'd keep me warm and lick the salt off my face; I'd hug him hard.

Beyond running

We were talking today among some of the race committee about the idea of adding, in the future, a second day of events around cycling -- as many marathons are doing. So you could make a weekend out of a run one day, ride the next, and choose from distances like 100 miles, 60, and 25.

    I love bicycle touring -- not riding fast so much as riding far. It seems more of us are taking to the sport, with the whole range of abilities that running offers -- from the slow Sunday drivers to the speedsters.

   So this week's poll asks if, and how, you cross train.

   By the way, this is no wimpy crowd. The majority of responders say you get yourself through a hard long run with tough self talk. Man. I was of the find-any-distraction-I-can segment, as in telling my running partners to tell me their life stories, beginning with preschool, and let me just pant alongside you.

Go ahead, please chime in

Thanks to Erin, my 20-something blogging mentor, I've learned I can turn off that annoying word identification feature that some of you have told me kept you from posting comments here.

A handful of times I wrote witty, insightful (of course) comments on Erin's blog, but Blogger then asked me to identify a word that wasn't there, and all was lost. 

That's all fixed now, on her blog and this one. So write a note, share your thoughts, ask questions.

What's on your watch?

I'm sure there's a word for this -- maybe my son's high school math teacher knows it -- but you know when numbers repeat themselves? Whatever you call it, I have an uncanny knack for looking at the clock when it says 10:10, 5:55, that kind of thing. With a pathetic memory that just keeps getting worse, the only reason I can tell you my Boston qualifying time, at the 1999 Cleveland marathon, is because it was 3:33.

I am as proud of that accomplishment as if it were a gold medal -- it's my only significant athletic achievement, and a nice balance to so much of my life spent sitting at a desk. Here's one of the great things about the sport of long-distance running: my best marathon time, my p.r. in runner jargon, is more than an hour off Joan Benoit's long-time world record of 2:21:21 (do I need to point out why I can remember that time?). Between the elite athletes up front and the back-of-the-packers is such a vast range of ability, hours of difference. Any of us except those who break the winner's tape should be humbled by that. This is a sport where you compete against yourself more than anyone else. 

That's kind of freeing, seems to me. You set goals for yourself, and no matter how many hundreds of people finish ahead of you, if you hit your goal time, you're a winner.

Results are in #2

Ah, so many kindred spirits out there. The majority of folks who voted on the poll about afternoon energy dips said that coffee/soda and whining are how you respond to that dragging feeling. Chocolate and naps came next; exercise not so much. Just how I'd respond.

Next up -- when you're out on a long run and it's getting hard, what keeps you going? Votes, please.

I wish I could add space for write-in votes. Comments are always welcome, of course, to any and all postings here.

Joanie's coming!!

For weeks I've been bursting with this news, but we had to nail down some details. Joan Benoit Samuelson, the first women's Olympic marathon gold medalist and one of the best long-distance women runners ever, will speak at the carbo-load dinner Friday night before the NC Marathon, half-marathon, and 5K. And I feel like a kid about it -- how many times do you get to meet one of your all-time heroes? 

My awe for Joan goes back three decades. I was a New Englander then, like her. She won her first Boston Marathon in 1979 as a senior at Bowdoin College. She wore a Bowdoin singlet and a Boston Red Sox hat backwards, nothing high-tech about her, yet she set a course record that year. She won Boston again in 1983, setting a world record of 2:22:43. Her Chicago victory of 2:21:21 stood as the world record for 17 years

Among her many victories, the one that best illustrates Samuelson's grit is winning the Olympic marathon trials just three weeks after arthroscopic knee surgery. The story that best captures her character? After winning the gold medal in 1984, in a decisive victory over Grete Waitz, she told reporters she was excited to get back home to Maine -- because it was blueberry season and she wanted to get picking.

These days, as I face the realities of middle age, what I love about Joan is that she's still at it, which is remarkable for anyone, male or female, at the elite level of the sport. Last year, at age 50, she ran in the Olympic marathon trials and beat her personal goal of 2:50, setting an American record for women 50-54.

Be sure to join us at the pasta dinner May 1. Visit ncmarathon.org for dinner tickets and other ways to see Joan during race week. Hope I don't elbow you out of the way too badly.

Stalling

You know mapmyrun.com, right? Jan knows it -- she's course chairman for the NC Marathon, and she has spent many hours plotting that little green arrow to come up with the marathon, half-marathon, and 5k courses. They look great, though, and should be posted on ncmarathon.org soon.

The site is a great tool, especially if you find yourself in a new city and want to figure out mileage for a nice loop. 

So I'm home, not traveling, just sitting here playing on the site. My M-W-F running partner's been out west skiing, and I'm trying to get myself out the door. As a stalling tactic, I decided to confirm the mileage of one of my neighborhood loops. Nope, hasn't changed since last time I checked three months ago. Guess it's time to get out there...

Runner's story #3: Canuck from the North

Another contribution, this one from Phil, also a Saturday morning Country Park BlueLiner. Keep 'em coming!

"I'm a Canadian and I love hockey. For 30 years it was my passion. Running had one purpose: to get in shape for hockey. In high school I won the freshmen race but was not invited to run track. Oh, to be rejected. I changed schools in 12th grade, and once again outran others in gym class. Coach Tom Graham, bless his soul, asked me to run in the regional cross-country finals in a week. No training, just go. I finished third overall and qualified for the Ontario finals. That started my running more than 40 years ago, with that nugget of encouragement from Tom.

   Over the next 15 years I'd start running and quit about 20 times, and smoke cigars. but one cold November day in Erie, PA, in 1987, I ran about .75 miles and walked home. The next morning I ran 4 miles, and built up to 10 in a month, under 70 minutes. I ran the Pittsburgh Marathon in 1988 and was hooked; I ran my first Boston in 1990, and cried.

  I look back over 50,000 miles and 37 marathons, including 13 Bostons, and more than 100 10ks in under 40 minutes. But more important are the folks I've met and places I've met them. Runners are a special breed, whether it's a jabbering Scottish runner in Edinburgh, and Australian banker in Tokyo, or the Blueliners in Greensboro. What I love most about running is there are no facades, you are who you are, $100 shoes don't make you any faster."

  

Results are in!

Thanks to the 24 visitors to this blog who shared your preference for running company (again, apologies to the canines who didn't get listed as an option.) The winner is, hands-down, running with friends, 79 percent of you would choose that.

Next up: the afternoon duldrums. If we were three years old, our moms would MAKE us take a nap. Now that we're responsible adults, how do you handle an afternoon energy dip? Note that you can choose multiple responses. As in, drink coffee, eat chocolate, AND whine to those around you. Just as one example, I'm not saying that's what I do necessarily.

Maybe run with books on our heads?

Something I've been feeling intuitively just got reinforced by a little training tip on my Runner's World calendar: If you keep your torso upright while running, your shoulders back, you'll engage your abs. And believe me, my abs need all the engaging they can get.

But it also reminds me of something I read once, advice from a coach to a young runner about when he or she got tired in high school cross-country races. "Lean back," the coach said, "like there is a big pillow behind you." What in effect happens is your posture straightens up instead of slouching forward. Somehow this helps with fatigue -- try it.

Age keeps pulling my shoulders forward, rounding me over. I look in the mirror and, when I feel like I'm pulling my shoulders back to an extreme, I'm actually just upright. Please tell me I'm not the only one experiencing this? 

Another runner's story: Leaving colitis in the dust

This posting comes from Thad, another Saturday morning running pal as well as a blogging mentor (check out ncrunnerdude.blogspot.com):

The reasons I run are multi-fold, but I guess the main reason is for motivation and my health. Those two kind of go hand-in-hand for me. I started running in college just for the fun of it. I'd never done anything athletic in my life. I was one of those fat kids in the plaid ToughSkins. Remember me? My biggest accomplishment was eating a twin-pack of Lays potato chips in one sitting. My brother was the sports star in the family: football, baseball, basketball, tennis. 

    All I ever saw was team sports. It wasn't until my first 10K -- the 1984 Great Raleigh Road Race -- that I discovered you could participate in a sport as an individual. I learned that I loved competing with myself and trying to better my time with each race. That first race was slow, by the way: 1:06. But it got me started in the world of running.

   I never ran anything longer than a 10K until 1997, when I ran my first marathon, New York City. It was a great experience, and I was hooked on long-distance running. 

   In 2001 I had a setback. Doctors diagnosed me with ulcerative colitis. After I got my first episode under control, I was sort of depressed and didn't run. I gained a little weight and felt like crap (no pun intended). Then, in the summer of 2002, another setback involved surgery, a week in the hospital, and a month out of work. But this time I had a different attitude. I was so grateful to get out of the hospital and join the living again.

  I decided that I wasn't going to let UC rule my life. It was early fall 2002 and I decided to run the 2003 Country Music Marathon in March. About the same time I took a friend, Rick, up on his invitation to run with his pals on Saturday mornings. That first run, it was just me and Rick, and all I'd gotten up to was 6 miles. Rick's usual Saturday run was 11 miles. Rick said, "oh, if you can do 6, you can do 11. No problem." I ran the route and hurt like hell the next day, but I'll be forever grateful to Rick for his invite and for him pushing me to do that first 11.

   I've been running with that group (the BlueLiners) for more than 6 years now and watched the group grow. I've discovered that I need a yearly goal of at least one marathon to train and run. Oddly enough, the running (and my medication) seem to keep UC at bay. I still have episodes , but not as frequent or as bad. Of 13 marathons, I've had to back out of only 3 due to UC-related problems. Not too bad!"

Forgot about our best friends!

One reader/runner/pal, writing from the frozen tundra in New London, Connecticut, pointed out that I omitted an important category in the "who do you like to run with" poll: the loyal pooch. As a great fan of dogs and all that their fine company means, I'm horrified.

I can't go back and change the poll, but I'll make it up to Chandler, BJ, and all good running dogs out there some how, some way. 

Dog bones often do the trick.

Defying middle-age mediocrity: One woman's story

Here's a powerful "why I run" statement from one of my Saturday morning running pals, Kelly. When I first met her last year, three years after she started running, I thought Kelly was about 12 years younger than she is -- thanks to running.

"Without running, I would still be an overweight, unmotivated and unhappy woman, stuck in a rut. Running has given me the courage and confidence to change my life.

   As I covered up the real me with the disguise of a suburban, overweight mom, I conformed to the age-appropriate stereotype. Judgement from my husband and self-inflicted guilt prevented me from doing things for myself. As I turned 38, I realized I needed to change. My desire to lose weight finally propelled me to start moving again. The time to get healthy and strong was overdue. So I took up running. I ran off the pounds, 35 of them. I ran away from baggy t-shirts and a mediocre middle-age image. I ran full force toward a new, happy me.

   It was difficult at first. I struggled to finish three miles. I was impatient and trying to run too fast. But I stuck with it. When I found a comfortable pace and patience, I ran farther. And my confidence increased. I'd hear, "I saw you running today! You look great!" and "What are you training for?" as I shopped in the grocery. So I set a goal: a half marathon. I didn't stop to wonder if I could do it.

   I joined a training group through a local running store. We met weekly and followed a half-marathon schedule. I found a runner's community and was delighted by how friendly, supportive, and encouraging these people were. I learned to put guilt aside. I became dedicated, almost obsessed with running. I'd finally found a true passion, one that was all my own, a way to feel happy independent of anyone else. 

    As I neared the half-marathon finish line, I saw my dad and sons beaming. My boys ran across the finish line with me. I did it! For the first time in my life I proved to myself that I could do something big. The accomplishment was a turning point. I found the courage to change other areas of my life.

   Running gives me strength that I draw on for many things, not just to run miles. I say, "If I can run a half-marathon, I can do anything!" I've become a healthy role model for my kids. With determination and sweat, I've shown myself that I can get where I want to be by simply moving one leg at a time. Like a good friend told me, 'Just keep picking them up and putting them down and you'll make it.'"

Through rain, wind, dark of night...and snow

I'm so impressed with a few hardy souls who have shown up on recent Tuesday nights at the YWCA High Point for training runs. Dawn, Chevy, and Ashley, you are three tough cookies.

For three weeks we've been cursed with terrible weather -- wind and cold the first night, cold drizzle the next week (actually, everyone bagged that one) and then, last night, a cold whipping wind that turned into a whiteout of snow showers our last half mile back. (Sorry you had to work Chevy, you would have loved it.)

If you're tough enough, come join us at 6 pm in front of the YWCA, 112 Gatewood Avenue (thanks, Heidi Majors, for the facilities). Following the training schedules posted at ncmarathon.org, we'll be up to 5-6 miles next week. Robin Lindsay and I are running with anyone who wants to train for the NC Marathon, half marathon, or just run with company. 

That's the thing. As I told Robin last night as we were getting back in our cars, big fat snowflakes dusting us like feathers: You drag yourself out  in the cold and dusk, but you get going, learn a little about a new acquaintance, and before you know it you're really glad you came out to run. 

Running companions do that for me. You? Weigh in on the poll on this page; I'm curious what other people think.

Unplugged: The Case for Racing MP3-Free

Two runners wrote to us today to ask if we would reconsider our rule against running any of the three NC Marathon events -- full and half marathon and 5k -- with headphones and music players.

On the surface, the answer is easy: it's too dangerous. If you're blasting Springsteen's "Born to Run" to get you through mile 18, you may miss the runner behind you warning you that she's passing you, and so one of you may trip. Or you may miss a volunteer giving you directions on the course, an emergency vehicle needing to pass, or any number of safety concerns.

But the quiet secret is that few races, including ours, have people stationed along the course to police this rule. We're hardly going to hand you a cup of Gatorade with one hand and swipe away your iPod with the other.

The rule comes from the USA Track and Field folks, the sport's governing body. And as one of the runners noted today, the USATF recently amended its rule, allowing race directors to choose whether or not to allow headphones and devices. Why the change? Specifically, administrators said, because the rule is so difficult to enforce.

I claim to be a purist about this matter, telling people that I'm entertained enough by the great outdoors and the conversation with my running companions that I don't "need" tunes. I smirk at people (OK, mostly my husband) who can't start their run until they fuss with dials, buttons, cords, and the velcro that holds the thing to their arms. The truth is, though, I'm afraid to try it -- I have a feeling I'd love running to music, especially in a race. I remember how cool it was to hear all the live bands along the course at the Nashville marathon. The music lifted my mood, sometimes as if it was literally pulling me up a hill. So, kind of like horseback riding and skiing, I've avoided something I think I'd really fall for.

If you were race director and the safety and running experience of all your registered participants were up to you, how would you rule on this?

More important, what's on YOUR playlist?

Why do you run?

If running, especially distance running, has helped you make a fresh start or given you new perspective, write and tell me about it. In the coming weeks, I'll be sharing runners' stories about why it is they choose to put one foot in front of the other and log all those miles.

Don't be shy. The great thing about this sport is that, no matter how different we may seem on the surface, deep down we have a lot in common. I've learned that over and over again, every time I share a run with someone new.

The power of fresh starts

It's been about a month since the City of High Point, NC, offered to host the second annual NC Marathon at very little cost to the organizers. Thinking of all the ingredients that have come together since then, all the incredible people who have stepped forward to add something to the event or lend a hand, it's worth taking a minute to appreciate it all.

In one month's time, we now have courses for the marathon, half-marathon, and family 5k. We have offers of time from hundreds of new volunteers. We have a new sponsor hotel and expo host. And we have an increasingly exciting slate of events for race week.

High Point's offer was one that we, the race committee, couldn't refuse after Greensboro civic leaders quoted several figures for security costs that were well beyond our budget. Still, Melissa Fourrier, our race director, fretted about the decision. Fourrier is also executive director of the nonprofit Foster Friends of NC. She dreamed up the marathon as a fundraiser for Foster Friends, and she staged a nearly seamless event in Greensboro last year despite little experience with running and race management. She wasn't looking to move the event and start some aspects from scratch. But now that we have....

Twice a year, High Point hosts some 80,000 buyers and other home furnishings professionals for about 10 days of showing new lines, schmoozing and networking, and hearing best practices. All this takes place downtown, based around the dramatic, glass-fronted Showplace building. Between Showplace and the equally impressive International Home Furnishings Center is an enormous plaza, some of it offering cover from sun or rain with artsy roofing. In other words, an ideal place to gather thousands of people to start a race, finish a race, and celebrate afterward.

There's a lot more good stuff in the works, can't wait to tell you more -- stay tuned.