LOTS OF WAYS TO PR

Say the “word” pr (pronounced pee-are) and most people will probably think you are making some reference to public relations. PR firms endeavor to shine a flattering light on some person, entity, or idea. (An interesting aside: many attribute the origins of the notion of public relations to Edward Bernays, a nephew of Sigmund Freud, who used his uncle’s theories on our unconscious minds and motivation to create the field of public relations.)

To runners, the word pr has a very different meaning. For us, pr means personal record. Almost all runners who race competitively keep track of their finishing times. A pr is your best time in a race. Since races come in all kinds of lengths, e.g., 400 meters, 5Ks, 10Ks, half-marathons, marathons, ultras, etc., it is quite common for runners to have many prs.

Runners are a compulsive lot; our families could form support groups over living with us when we are not able to run due to injuries, work-related demands, or other impediments. We not only love running, we are entranced with the detailed recording of our daily runs and records. We delight in statistics and timing our runs, which explains those large watches we tend to wear, to keep track of our pace and laps and lots of other details. We squirrel away all this data in our logbooks; some runners have whole bookshelves full of their logs.

People who have been running for decades will often keep different sets of prs. If you were able to run a 15 minute 5K in your youth, you might start keeping track of your “Master’s (age 40+) prs” in order to give yourself a realistic time goal for improvement.
Courses differ markedly, which adds an important dimension to this pr recording. I ran one 10K in April of 2007 in 45:43, then another in August in just over 43 minutes. That’s over a 2 minute difference in a 6.2 mile race. Was I that improved or was it the course? While I’d love to claim the former, I have to report it was the course, as the August race was on the Mickelson Trail and predominately downhill.

There are myriad ways to subdivide one’s prs. One of the ways I review my past races and prs includes the significance of altitude. I ran a marathon in 4 hours, 18 minutes in June of last year, then another in 3 hours, 25 minutes just 3 months later. It wasn’t because I’d improved that much, nor was it the actual physical lay-out of the course, but rather due to geography. The first was in Estes Park, Colorado, at an average elevation of 7785 feet (the high point on the course is at 8150) and the September one was in Indiana, at under 1000 feet. Consequently, the 3:30 I ran in Denver in October is in my mind a more estimable achievement than the 3:25 in Indiana.

December is the time of year when runners assess the goals they set for themselves and start thinking about new ones for next year. Some of us set annual mileage goals, another form of pr. I will miss mine; I usually run 2,000 miles a year. I retreated to the elliptical on several occasions this year when I felt I was courting an injury and I don’t count that in my mileage totals. Since my first goal is always to stay healthy and injury free, I don’t mind missing the mileage mark as I did run and finish all the races I started. (Well, I don’t mind too much; but I’m still setting a 2,000 goal for 2008!)

While this is the season for reviewing the past year, most of us also dream of setting a new pr in at least a couple of distances, and start looking ahead to which races will be target races. One way to keep your training fresh is to pick several races over the course of a year in which you aim to improve your pr. Not every race we run is an all-out effort. Runners training for a marathon and following a 12 or 16 week training schedule will usually try to work in some 10Ks and a half-marathon or two within that training schedule. They may not run those races as hard as they are able because they are saving their focus and strength for the goal marathon.

Our running magazines print long lists of upcoming races in the January issues, and there are big shiny adverts about various races tempting to us to select them for our upcoming year’s running schedule. Articles promising new training plans to help you achieve your pr abound. The spring shoe preview appears, complete with new innovations sure to cut seconds--or even minutes!--off your old prs.

If you are a gardener, or have ever lived with a gardener, then you know how December brings the big and bright seed catalogues to the mailbox. Plans for expanding the garden, or trying heirloom plants are dinner table topics. This is comparable to how it is for runners, especially those of us in colder climes. Since storms and freezing temperatures tend to curtail at least some of our daily runs, planning for the year ahead provides an outlet for our pent-up energy. In our imaginations, we are fleet and strong and effortless.

Curled up on your sofa with an afghan and cat snuggled by your side, it is oh so easy to be enticed by photos of runners clad in shorts and sleeveless tops or halters, running past leafy green trees and lawns (Run Buffalo!) or along Lake Superior in June as colorful balloons dot the sky (Run Grandma’s Marathon!) or through Churchill Downs in April (Run the Kentucky Derby Festival!). “Fast, flat, and scenic!” many of the ads promise. Ah, how can you not succumb? Indeed, there is a fairly steady market in a certain racing t-shirt that has this observation blazoned across the back: “18 weeks ago, this seemed like a good idea!”

Whatever your goals are for the year ahead, I want to suggest adding another kind of pr to your list. I am using pr here to mean “personal responsibility.” As runners, we benefit from the efforts of all those people who volunteer at races to make them possible. There wouldn’t be a race without the Race Director, the people at the aid stations, the people at the start and finish lines, the people handling pre and race day registration, traffic control, medical services and awards, and that’s not a complete list (someone has to coordinate the porta-potties, too). When you make that list of the races you’ll be running, and the prs you will be seeking, why not add at least one in which you’ll volunteer? That’s a gift you give that has a real ripple effect, benefiting not just your fellow runners, but also the community.

Another way of thinking about a personal responsibility pr is to look for races that benefit a cause you can feel good about supporting. Here in Rapid City, Wellspring, an organization that provides many valuable services to children and adolescents, holds a 10K at the end of April, called the “Wellspring Stampede.” To learn more about Wellspring, go to www.wellspringrc.org. CASA, the Court Appointed Special Advocate program (citizen advocates for children caught up in the court system) in Spearfish sponsors a half marathon in mid summer. To volunteer for the 22nd Annual Half Marathon and 5K Walk, call the CASA office at 722-4558. More details may be available at www.nhcasa.com. Even if you are not a runner, you can volunteer to help out at a race.

There are races across the country if you are a traveling runner. The Dallas White Rock Marathon benefits Texas Scottish Rite Hospital, a pediatric center that treats orthopedic conditions and dyslexia in children; the St. Jude Memphis Marathon benefits the St. Jude Children’s Hospital. In Dallas, the police officers providing traffic control for the race give up their pay in order to allow for more funds to go to the center. Those are just two of many.

Whether or not you improve your pr (personal record) next year depends upon a host of factors; how well you train, remaining healthy, picking the right races, the weather and at least a little bit of luck. The beautiful aspect of the pr (personal responsibility) goal I’ve set forth here is that it is a sure thing. You will not need to look too far to find a race director who will greet you with open arms and a job assignment (and maybe even a volunteer’s race t-shirt). In doing so, you will help others, feel good about yourself, and you just might contribute some good pr (public relations) to our sport along the way.

FIND YOUR DISTANCE

My early running days were not spent on a track or trails, but instead between the bases. I love baseball. In order not to get picked last on the Detroit sandlots of my youth, I had to develop some basic skills. Given my body type and lack of pitching ability, the remaining strategy was learn to field, bunt, and run fast.

While I went on to develop an appreciation for other sports, I remain a diehard baseball fan. My team for nearly the last 40 years has been the Boston Red Sox. Currently, the Sox have a young relief pitcher, Jonathan Papelbon. Considered a “closer,” Papelbon spends most games out in the bullpen. He’s called upon in the last inning of the game to come in and retire the side, saving the win for the team and the pitcher who started the game.

Last year was his first full year in the majors and he was brilliant in the role as saver. Still, that wasn’t the plan. He’d spent 3 years in the minors under the assumption he’d be a starter. Accordingly, he was slotted for a spot in the ’07 starting rotation this year in spring training. He was working every few days as a starter and things were looking good. Except for one thing. To Papelbon, it felt all wrong. He described it as “dying a slow death.”

Before the start of the 2007 season, Papelbon and the Sox announced he’d be returning to his role as the closer. A lot of people were startled, shocked even. Starting pitchers are in many ways the prima donas, the stars of the show. Relievers, even the best of the closers, have it tough. They often come into a game in a pressure-packed situation and need to get three outs without allowing a run. There isn’t a lot of room for error.

Papelbon doesn’t make many. He just became only the fourth player in major league history to save 30 games in his first two full seasons. “It just feels right,'' he’s been quoted as saying. "Me closing games, it feels like a good marriage. Like maybe I was made for this role.''

That’s how I feel about running the marathon distance. It suits me. I don’t like 5Ks or 10Ks . I run them but they’re just too fast. In a marathon, I get to chat with other runners for the first 10 miles or so. It’s a standard piece of advice to run a marathon as if it is really 3 races: the first 10 miles, the second 10 miles, and then the last 6. If you leave it all on the road in the first 10 or even 15 miles, you are almost certain to limp in that last 10K.

Right now, it seems that marathons (26.2 miles) are a popular distance. People who keep “life lists,” i.e., goals they want to achieve over time or in the next 5 or 10 years often seem to have “run a marathon” on that list. That’s fine if it’s just the marathon experience you’re after, or perhaps the finisher’s medal to hang on your wall.

If you want to develop your running into a rewarding lifetime habit, however, it would make more sense to take the time to figure out what distance is right for you. Some people just want to run for health or for enjoyment and never consider competing in organized events. If you are in that group, you’ve probably already marked out a route or routes in your neighborhood, or have your treadmill routine that you follow.

If you compete or want to compete at organized runs, there are a number of distances available, from a mile to a half-marathon to an ultra marathon. Some common ultra distances are 50K, 50 miles or 100 miles. (A “K” is a kilometer, and .62 miles, so a 10K is 6.2 miles, a 5K 3.1) Ultras are often run on trails and at a slower pace, which makes sense due to the greater endurance necessary to complete them. There’s no reason to chase after running marathons if you are happier running long trail runs, developing your technical running skills. Perhaps you are intrigued at working out a 10K strategy that allows you to hold back something and pass people in the last mile as your turn up the speed.

Experiment with a distance you haven’t yet tried. If it is longer than your usual, do by all means get a reliable training schedule and follow it. Next to wearing cheap, worn out or ill-fitting shoes, increasing your speed and/or your distance too quickly is the best method known for injuring yourself. You need to do so gradually, and never increase both in the same week.

Here’s what I mean. You are trying to increase your speed, so you start running 3 miles with a partner 2 days a week who is a little faster than you. Don’t decide in those initial weeks of running faster to also up your normal weekly mileage from 10 miles to 15. You should wait to add total mileage until you’re cruising along with your fast friend at the faster pace, or take a rain check during the week you add on some miles. Even then, do that gradually too; going from 10 to 12 miles would be smarter than from 10 to 15.

Once you find a distance that feels right and is fun for you, see if there are races around you could enter. You can start your own life list. Maybe instead of running one marathon, you’d like to run one 5K race a month some year. Another standard running rule is take a day off from hard running for every mile in a race. If you run a 5K all out at the top of your speed, you should rest or just run easy for 3 days following the race. Clearly, one advantage of shorter distances is that your recovery time is lots shorter and you are ready to race again!

You may have heard of the “50 Staters,” a group of marathoners who strive to run a marathon in every state (and D.C. too). If that’s not for you, make your goal running half marathons (13.1 miles) in 13 states (by the way, please do not refer to that race distance as a “half-mary”—this is akin to wearing the shirt you get for running a race as you run the race. No-no-no. Wear the shirt only after you have finished the race.)

Just keep running. An open mind is useful, too as the distance that suited you when you were in high school may have changed. When you find the one that fits, that feels “like a good marriage,” you’ll know. That doesn’t mean you can’t or shouldn’t run other distances. Most runners do enjoy competing in runs of different lengths and of course we all run varying distances from day to day on our training runs. Choose your distance by what feels right from within, not by what the latest fashion or fad seems to be. Run for a lifetime by finding your distance.

COMMUNITY

Sometime late in the last century, I first became aware of people using the word “community” in a way that was different from how I defined it. Perhaps I am a bit of a pedestrian or concrete (some might opine, “hard-headed”) thinker, but community to me had at least a little something to do with geography. “A group of people living in the same locality and under the same government” is one classic definition of community. Even more place-central is this American Heritage definition: “the district or locality in which such a group lives.”
I have a very vivid memory of running smack into the realization that community had become a more global concept. Words evolve over time and I suppose I had encountered references to a less boundary-specific interpretation of community before the particular incident that caused me to take notice, but it is this particular day and line that I recall. The local public radio station had just thanked one of their underwriters, a yarn and knitting supply shop that included the phrase “serving the community of knitters” in its motto, which the announcer duly read on the air.
For some reason, this struck me as comical. What, I wondered, was a “community of knitters” and what did it mean to count yourself among them? How did they identify one another as being members? Was a certain level of expertise implied? Is there discrimination against knitters requiring the formation of a community for support?
Before all the knitters out there start sharpening their knitting needles to hurl (or purl) my way, my reaction is not due to being anti-knitting. It’s just that I grew up in an age when people referred to their recreational pastimes as hobbies. People collected things (stamps, coins), built models (cars, planes), took photographs, played sports or in some cases, knitted.
My mom liked to bowl and was in a league. My brother fished and had a great collection of flies he’d tied himself (kept in a special box I was not allowed to open without his express permission). Mr. O down the street played baseball after work for a Detroit city team. Despite having grown up around folks with hobbies, I never once heard any reference to a community of bowlers, of fly-fishers, or of ball players. You had a hobby and you did it in the neighborhood or nearby area with other people who shared your enthusiasm.
After my run-in with the community of knitters phrase, I continued to hear community used to describe groups of people. There are communities of churches, teachers, and there is the wellness community that provides much appreciated support to families in the midst of cancer diagnoses and treatment. With the advent of the Internet and explosion of interest-based websites, it’s fair to say there are now communities of just about every conceivable group you might imagine, and beyond, e.g., CER: Community of European Railway and Infrastructure Companies, bringing together 66 railway undertakings and infrastructure companies from the European Union, the accession countries (Croatia and Turkey) as well as from the Western Balkan countries, Norway, and Switzerland.
While I grew increasingly accepting of the expanding meaning of community as used by others, I never identified with any community beyond the ones I lived in at any given time. Personally, I remained skeptical. I leaned more toward the view of Kurt Vonnegut, who invented the word “granfalloon,” meaning a group of people who outwardly choose or claim to have a shared identity or purpose, but whose mutual association is actually meaningless. He used as an example two people from Indiana meeting in a foreign country and finding meaning in both being Hoosiers. Other granfallon groups he cites include General Electric and the DAR. [To read more, his novel Cat’s Cradle and book of essays Wampeters, Foma and Granfalloons are good beginnings.]
That all changed for me this year. Until a few weeks ago, I would have scoffed at the notion of a “community of runners.” Have I met people across the country in my travels who have shared rooms, rides, stories, food, bodyglide and food with me, extended warmth and trust, opened their homes to me based pretty much on just on our shared status as runners? You bet. When I first moved here to Rapid City, did the Black Hills Runners Club welcome me, teach me, and help me when I needed a hand? Resounding so.
Still, the notion of something so high-faluting sounding as a Community of Runners was not a phrase I ever used and certainly not something I would have contemplated writing about until the death of Ryan Shay. Ryan Shay died November 3, 2007 at about the 5.5 mile mark in the Olympic Trials Race in Central Park, New York City. He was 28 years old.
While most people who are not runners seem to have barely registered this tragedy, runners across the country and of all calibers have taken time to acknowledge the passing of a colleague and a champion. What I find interesting is that after the Chicago Marathon earlier this year, lots of non-running friends wanted to talk about what happened there [due to extremely warm weather, the race was closed early, a number of participants were hospitalized and one died]. In comparison, only other runners have talked with me about Shay’s death.
This is not a criticism, not at all. The point is that I’ve discovered there is a community of runners that follows the sport closely and cares deeply about its own. By the afternoon of Shay’s death, his dad had posted a thank you at LetsRun.com, a well-known Internet running board that read: “My family, Alicia, and I can not thank you enough for your thoughts and prayers. The calls and e-mails are over whelming. God bless you all. Joe Shay.” It’s become the “Official Ryan Shay Remembrance Thread,” with nearly 30 web pages to date of posts from all over.

The emotion in those posts is simply eloquent. Ryan’s former teammates posted about his work ethic, his gutsy approach to all running, his spirit and sense of play. Less gifted runners posted about Ryan’s determination inspiring them. Some who had crossed paths with him remembered him taking time to run with them and encourage them. People who only knew of him through what they read in running magazines posted. Some were lengthy, some as brief as “8 miles. All for Ryan.”
Ryan, an elite runner, wasn’t one of the top seeds at the Trials. Runner’s World did not place him in their top 10, but did acknowledge him as a “dark horse.” There were 130 men vying for just 3 slots on the 2008 Olympic Team in Beijing. Ryan was the 2003 USA Marathon Champion but he would have to shave at least a few minutes off his PR of 2:14:29 in order to qualify for the Olympic Team, given the competition at the Trials.
He epitomized the Olympic Spirit. In an interview with Runner’s World in October, he explained: "I know it's going to be difficult. You just hope that you have the perfect day. What else can I do, sit home? You go out there to race. If you have the qualifying mark, you've got to go out there. That's what makes our system of qualifying for the Olympic team great, because it gives even the biggest underdog a shot at making the team.”
Ryan’s heart was enlarged. It was initially diagnosed when he was 14. His dad, Joe Shay, a track coach at Central Lake, Michigan said the very thing that made him great is what may have killed him. Shay’s resting heart rate was so low doctors told him he may need a pacemaker when he got older.
Just four months ago, on July 7, Shay married Alicia Craig, a Wyoming runner from Gilette who gained noteriety running for Campbell County and then Stanford. In 2004, she set the women’s NCAA 10,000 meter record. She is also vying for a spot on the 2008 Olympic Team. She and Ryan met at the New York marathon in 2005.
Ryan Hall, the winner of the Trials, was at the Shay-Craig wedding. His wife, Sara, was a teammate of Alicia’s at Stanford and a bridesmaid in the wedding. Hall has dedicated his upcoming Olympic race to Shay. Fellow Michigander Brian Sell, who finished in third at the Trials, cried at the post race news conference. "I'd trade my Olympic spot in a split second to have him back," Sell said later.
At the Central Lake high school track where Ryan and his 7 brothers and sisters ran under the tutelage of their coaching parents, memorial runs were held for 3 nights in early November, marked with 600 luminaria. One father and daughter showed up determined to run the 20.7 miles Ryan didn’t finish at the Trials. Amby Burfoot, an editor at Runner’s World magazine and 1968 winner of the Boston Marathon interview Ryan’s youngest brother, Stephen, a college junior and cross-country runner at one of the runs. Describing the many ways Ryan was a positive influence on his life, he explained: “I didn’t just lose a brother. I lost my hero.”
Now that I see and believe there is a community of runners, I need to be a responsible member of the group. I can’t think of any better way to begin than to use this space allocated to me to remember Ryan Shay with all of you. Godspeed, Ryan.

LAST THINGS!

Last things, last times. Some life events are marked by observances so that you remember them as being “the last.” You may recall your last day in high school or the last Christmas your kids believed in Santa. Perhaps you’ve given up a bad habit but still vividly recall your last cigarette, double scotch, trifecta bet or banana split.

There are so many other things or occurrences that we enjoy for the last time without the knowledge that indeed, this is the last. When was the last time you spent a summer afternoon lying in the grass looking up at the clouds or the last time you swung on a swing? The last firefly or butterfly you caught in a jar and tried to keep alive?

One of my favorites pieces on running, “I Remember Running,” was written by Darcy Wakefield. At 33, Darcy was diagnosed with ALS (“Lou Gehrig’s disease”), a fatal condition. Before long, she was unable to run. After recounting some of the places and times she had especially appreciated running in her life, she went on to describe herself as “continuously mourning running.” Reflecting back, she tells us she wished she had known those were her last runs because “I would have appreciated every hill, every post-run high, every minute my legs moved in that way we call running.”

Even for those of us who love running, there are days when we head out for our regular jaunt with more of a sense of obligation than joy. Sometimes it is because the weather threatens, or maybe we’d rather knock off and stay in bed, or accept that invitation to lunch with office colleagues. Sometimes it is because following a training schedule can become tedious or confining (‘but I don’t want to do speed work today!’). Still, anyone with a “runner’s soul,” as Darcy Wakefield portrayed herself, will soon miss running if prevented from doing it for too very long.

A good run can provide you private space for pondering a work-related issue or a personal dilemma. You think about things a little differently when your body is in motion and you are taking in the features of the season: warm summer breeze, crisp fall air, sparkling winter sun on white snow, the greens of spring, the waters of March. At other times, it’s pleasant to create an escape and listen to music or a book as you put in the miles.

For those of you reading this who do not run, take a moment here and try to remember the last time you ran. I don’t mean running to catch a bus or plane, or running after your child or dog that got away from you. I mean running the way you see children run in an open field. Not running for a purpose, but just running for running’s sake. Running because it felt good, because walking wasn’t enough, because you it made you happy just to be running.

Now that you remember that last time, just think: it doesn’t have to remain the last time. It is so much easier than you might imagine to start running regularly again. How will you know whether or not you have a runner’s soul if you don’t at least try running for fun? [Being a lawyer, I am duty-bound at this junction to interrupt myself and put in the necessary caveat here about consulting a doctor before you take up any exercise program, but you knew that, didn’t you?]

Two of the beauties of running are that you need not invest a lot of money in equipment and you can start a running program by stopping right outside your door. Before you take that step, however, you do need to spend some money. This is not the time to do what I did years ago, which was to start running in my Tretorns. These were fantastic shoes for playing tennis but all wrong for running. Your running shoe selection needs to be based upon the size of your arch, the way your foot lands when you run, and your size. Do not buy your shoes at a discount mart and do not buy them by color! Running in cheap or ill-fitting shoes is an invitation to injury. The Journal ran a detailed article about buying running shoes just a few weeks ago; do look it up and follow the advice contained there. The Runner’s Shop in Rapid City is a good place to start for solid shoe selection advice.

Once you have your shoes, you need a place to run. We are blessed with the bike path here in Rapid City. If you cannot think of where to start, find one of the many spots along the path. I love the rose garden near the Berlin Wall memorial, and so appreciate the flowers and herb garden by the sundial. There are mile markers built into the pavement for your convenience if you run by distance. The other way to run is by time; then of course, you just need a watch. Running near your home is an option; just use your car’s or a bicycle odometer to measure out a route. For a beginner’s plan, a 3-mile loop (or 1.5 mile out-and-back) would be sufficient.

To minimize the possibility of injury, you should follow a plan of some sort. “Hey! Wait a minute,” you’re thinking, “what about all that joy of running? A plan sounds like work, or a diet.” No, not the kind of plan I mean. Think of it as a guideline. If you can walk 2-3 miles at a stretch at present, a plan will help you to reach a level of running 3 miles in about 8 to 10 weeks. Really. You could plan on running the Turkey Trot November 22 in Rapid City and even win a pie! (This is an annual event sponsored by the Black Hills Running Club every Thanksgiving morning; a great way to do something healthy on the holiday, and all entrants are eligible for the great pie give-away after the run. Hundreds of pies are given out by lottery.) Go ahead—pencil it in. You can do it!

A good plan should start with alternating jogging and walking, at least at first. It should have you taking periodic rest days. At a minimum, you need to devote 20-30 minutes a day on no less than 3 days a week. You’d want to alternate an active day with a rest day. If that seems too light, by all means, cross-train on some of the alternate days, e.g., bike, swim, walk—any other low impact activity. If you want to print out some plans, here are a few websites with good, basic start up plans for you: the “Couch Potato to 5K Plan” is a favorite of mine: www.coolrunning.com/engine/2/2_3/181.shtml. Another good starter’s site is run by Jeff Galloway, a former Olympic athlete who advocates walk breaks for all levels of runners, including elites: www.jeffgalloway.com/training/5k.html

There you have it; all you need to start running again. While I know that some run in my future will be my last, I am hoping it is in the far distant future. In the interim, I try to remember to appreciate each day I am able to run; I know that running makes my life more balanced and joyous. It could add an extra dimension to yours.

After she could no longer run, Darcy Wakefield goes down to the beach near her home one night, takes off her shoes, and starts moving along the cold sand in circles. She relates that if you had seen her, you wouldn’t have called what she was doing running, but it was good enough for her. She confides that this is what she thought that night as she gave thanks: “We are so lucky to be able to do this, all of our nerves and muscles working together as we move ourselves forward to do this thing we call running.”

See you on the bike path!

BRANDS

An article in the October 16th edition of the Journal by Dan Daly reported on recent efforts by the Rapid City Convention & Visitors Bureau to help the city develop a “brand identity.” The purpose is to set Rapid apart from the other 1,500 American cities trying to become tourist destinations. The Bureau sponsored a workshop featuring Roger Brooks, of Destination Development wherein Brooks presented examples of other towns that have developed successful “brands,” e.g., Ashland, Oregon and its Shakespeare festival, Carson City, Nevada with its “Devine Nine” golf courses. Brooks is looking for ideas from us about what type of brand identity Rapid City could develop. You can contact him at TheTeam@destinationdevelopment.com [Note: he indicated Mt. Rushmore is a lure, but it’s not in Rapid City.]

This area is a fantastic place for all of us who want to be outside doing things in our spare time and on vacation. Moab, Utah markets itself in such a manner. Mountain biking is one of the more popular activities in Moab; I counted 4 or 5 thriving bike shops when I visited. I was there to run a marathon a few years ago and wish I had taken a photo of the sign posted in the window of the local grocers that read: “Please leave your bike outside.”

In hopes of starting some brainstorming about this “branding” concept that involves the outdoors, I thought I’d recount some of my first experiences here in Rapid. Perhaps it will spark some ideas that you will want to contribute to the Destination Development Team. When I moved to Rapid City over four years ago, I was struck by three things: (1) M Hill in the middle of town, (2) the bike path, and (3) the ease of getting out of the city proper onto open, scenic roads for running and cycling.

Before I had even unpacked my boxes, I joined the Black Hills Runners Club. The first time I went out with them was a Wednesday evening in April of ‘03. The meeting place was in the parking lot by the Westside Safeway and the run was promised to be about 45 minutes to an hour. Anticipating a road run where I’d get to learn more about my new home, I laced up my shoes and found the group.

There was some talk about which route to take amongst the members. Consensus was we’d run M Hill. I had no idea what that meant so happily trotted off with the pack of runners, chatting with folks I hoped would be my new friends as we warmed up. Imagine my shock when after crossing some busy streets and coursing through a parking lot, we arrived at the foot of a small mountain! I moved here from Minnesota, where the mosquitoes are huge but hills are rare. My 3-speed bike was all I needed to navigate the “hills.” To me, M Hill looked positively mountainous.

Gulp. I couldn’t wimp out now. I wanted to make a decent first impression with these runners. To start whining about trails and ascents and descents would brand me as a high-maintenance type runner, a wuss. I swallowed hard, said a quick prayer and tried hard to copy the technique of those around me. Fortunately, there were several kind-hearted souls who slowed down for me and started giving me some pointers in running trails. Small groups waited for one another at switchbacks and everyone met at the top.

There, I finally raised my eyes, which had been glued to my feet. What a view! I could hardly believe I was in the middle of city, looking down on it from such a wild place. What a marvelous introduction to the splendors of my new hometown. “Toto, we’re not in Minnesota anymore!” I exclaimed.

After a last long look all around, I refastened my eyes to my feet for the downhill return. Despite my knee-knocking fear, with the help of the group I made it down safely. These people had me running more trails throughout the rest of year—parts of the Centennial, parts of the Skyline Drive Wilderness area, and other woodsy, rocky areas all in or very close to Rapid City. We ran Harney Peak, too. This really is a phenomenal area for trail runners and hikers.

As for the bike path, we take it for granted. When I first discovered it, I marveled at all it offers. To have a paved, flat surface that goes on for miles, with engaging scenery, a creek alongside, areas of shade, and mile markers as well is a tremendous gift to a road runner. The rose garden at Memorial Park engages your vision and your nose—I’ll often do extra loops just around the roses when they’re in full bloom to linger in the scented air. For variation, you can circle the small pond nearby. The gardens at the sundial often seem to explode into view when you run west and come up from under the overpass. I so appreciate the efforts of the green-thumbed gardeners who tend that area.

Later in the year, the community gardens spring up on the east side, delighting me with their individuality and variety. At the west end of course is Canyon Lake. Even after the bike path ends there, more good running can be had just continuing down the road. The Running Club’s been known to go out that way (toward Dark Canyon) in the late fall and repairing to the Meadowbrook for breakfast on weekend long run days.

This is a running column, but I’d be remiss if I didn’t point out we have two local bike shops book-ending the path. Two-Wheeler Dealer is on the east side and Acme on the west. If running isn’t in your plans, at least for the present, both those stores rent bikes the last time I checked. They’ll also give you advice on fun or adventurous (depending on your interest) rides in the city if you ask. (The bike folks at Scheels are also helpful, just not as close to the bike path.)

The third item I mentioned, the ability to get out of town and onto some excellent roads or trails for running, hiking or biking, is perhaps nothing special to native Rapid Citians, but to anyone who has ever lived in any number of cities across the country, it is rare. When you have to fight miles and miles of crawling, exhaust-spewing, stop-and-go traffic just to get in and out of town, the rewards of the planned run or ride can rapidly diminish.

There are so many places that can be accessed, I cannot begin even to list them all here. One example I’d offer is Victoria Lake. I’ve been there running, but it’s got mountain bike trails and there’s always hiking. According to Jocelyn Lee Baker, as of October 4th it also hosts some Sand hill Cranes for you birdwatchers. [See Birdingonthe.net] Another is Hart Ranch Rd/Lower Spring Creek Road. The road bicyclists hold time trials out there (except in winter) as it’s straight and fast. Runners can get in a good long run without dodging too much traffic.

Now, I know I said I’d limit myself to three initial impressions. Allow me one more. This next one is not one I had when first arriving here, but one that’s developed over the years. A lot of cities manage to have marathons that feature their unique attributes. I just ran the Denver Marathon October 14th and that wound all over the city, showcasing parks, landmarks, the capitol and Coors Field. Des Moines has a course that likewise takes you all over the city. Races like these provide visitors a tour of the city, bring in lots of people and generate excitement. Why couldn’t we reroute the Monumental Challenge Marathon, Half-Marathon and relay to right in Rapid City and call it the Rapid City Marathon? [Maybe with a catch line “you don’t need to be rapid to run it!]

Those are some of my views on how this “branding” of Rapid City might work, focusing on our incredible outdoors. If you or your friends who are active in other outdoor activities might have some interest in fleshing out this concept, please contact the Team at the email address at the top of this column. This is just a beginning; I know there are lots of other features just from some of the articles I’ve read in the past in this section of the Journal.

The next steps as I understand them are that the Development team will be reviewing ideas over the next couple of weeks. They seem to be planning to make a decision before the end of the year and will return here to Rapid on January 8th for a public meeting.

The more ideas we can generate, the better the results for the city, whether an outdoors brand is chosen or not. Besides, in thinking about all the ways we appreciate our environment, it makes us see our home turf anew. That in and of itself is a good outcome. This is a special place; do go out and enjoy it before the snow flies!

OF MONUMENTAL CHALLENGES AND GRACIOUS RESPONSES

News of the October 7th Mt. Rushmore/Crazy Horse Marathon appeared in the days before and after the race in the Journal. As one of the participants, I wanted this article to be a complement to the more standard news coverage. The goal was to provide you with a word picture of the race from the inside, from just one perspective. For some reason, I had trouble finding focus and made a number of false starts. Here are some of the slants I chose not to take.

Mile-by-mile diarist. Some of my running friends write fabulously detailed race reports that describe every aspect of their race. Somehow, they manage to remember what they were feeling at each mile, who they passed or were passed by, as well as the particular scenery at the mile they’re describing. I can’t do this. When I think back on a run, I get more of an impressionist image—for you artsy types, think of looking at a Renoir while listening to Debussy. Certain miles stand out, e.g., the course started to go uphill at mile 10 and stayed that way for a while so I do remember that at mile 15, when I was still toiling uphill and still had 11 miles to go, and it was raining a cold steady drizzle, I had to remind myself that I love running. The child in me (the Id?) kept whining, however, so the parent part (the Ego, or is that the Super-Ego?) had to take over and I know you don’t want to hear anymore about that.

Historian. This seemed important because there is more than a little bit of local history and tradition connected to this race. While All Sport Central, a Sioux Falls company, bought the marathon in 2005, its origin dates back to 1979. The marathon was started by the newly formed Black Hills Runners Club, and with the support of the also newly established Runner’s Shop, some other local businesses and civic associations. They named it the Black Hills Marathon. For many years, it was run over the Labor Day weekend. Eventually, it was owned and operated by the Rapid City Convention & Visitors Bureau and moved to Native American Day weekend. In 1999, the name was changed to the Mt. Rushmore Marathon. For a race to reach 30 years of age is a real achievement, something for a community to acknowledge, support, and celebrate. I’ve met a lot of runners from all over in my travels; when I tell them I live in South Dakota, many recount their story of “running the Rushmore.” This race was their South Dakota experience. As a former history major, I find this kind of “back-story” intriguing, and could tell you lots more about the people involved over the years, the course changes, and race details. Not everyone shares that interest, I realize, so we’ll shelve the archives and move along.

Investigative journalist. Some readers may have heard or read about difficulties encountered by Steve Kurtenbach, the Race Director. These difficulties were beyond the sort of issues most RDs experience at one time or another, i.e., bad weather, running out of safety pins for race bibs after all the stores in town close, not enough busses to get runners to the start line, lost bus drivers on the busses you do have, or missed shipments of sports drink mix or finishers’ medals.

With just weeks before the starter’s pistol set to fire, Steve had to reroute the course. Due to problems with permits and concerns of some local town officers, the race was not able to proceed as planned. In a September 27th press release, race staff wrote that: “we respect the decision of the public officials and have been working diligently to put into place our contingency plans for this year’s event in an effort to provide a quality event for the hundreds of people that have already made plans and been training for the last 6-12 months.” Those resulting contingency plans put the start for all the marathon runners (the original plans gave runners a choice of starting at Mt. Rushmore or at Crazy Horse) a bit northwest of Rochford, with the start for the half marathon just south of Mystic. With the exception of a few miles at the marathon start and the finish at the 1880 Train in Hill city, almost all of both courses were on the Mickelson Trail.

Were there resulting glitches? Sure. Are there some disgruntled participants out there? You bet. While I may disappoint some folks who were expecting me to publish a point-by-point critique in this forum, I believe any feedback I may have would be best directed in a private letter or email to Steve. Anyone with an idea for improvement should go the race website and hit the “contact us” line. Share your thoughts to the people who can do something positive with your comments.

Gracious responses. Ultimately, I chose to focus on the theme that we all respond to, that of overcoming adversity. Needless to say, the enormity of undertaking last-minute changes on such a scale is enough to make the calmest of folks feel their hearts race and palms grow sticky. If you’ve ever organized any public event, you know how daunting a task it can be. As the day draws near, you are fielding questions from all sides, being interrupted every time you settle in to make some progress on your numerous lists of things to do, and trying to smile through it all with a calm level of control you really do not feel you have. This is when you are coping with the “run-of-the-mill” emergencies.

Given the new, last minute look and the hurdles involved, the race was renamed “The Monumental Challenge.” With all that had to be accomplished in such a short period of time, I wouldn’t be surprised to learn that the entire enterprise might have been in danger of being cancelled outright. We local runners would have been disappointed to varying degrees. Imagine the response of the out-of-state participants, about 300 people, many of whom flew in, took time off from work, or planned family vacations around the run. Marathoners usually follow a training schedule of 10 or more weeks to get to the point where they are ready to run 26.2 miles. They “taper” for a few weeks heading to race day in order to be at peak performance. Suppose you (and your friends or family) had invested all that time and energy only to be told “sorry, no race.” How would you feel?

Fortunately, due to the response of a core group of South Dakotans you can be glad to call your neighbors (and of course, Steve and his staff at All Sport Central), the Marathon is now in the books. I wish I could name each and every one of them. Allow me to beg forgiveness in advance: there were so many people who pitched in that I won’t begin to note even a fraction of them. The point is that it’s not about individuals. When people put aside their egos and work together for an idea, they create a force, a spark, an energy that lifts them all. Consider those I do mention as symbolic of the spirit of the Black Hills. Whether or not a race goes on isn’t going to mean much in the face of the world’s problems. This one has our state and our area associated with it, however, and if we had let that become tarnished, it diminishes us all in some small way. My most memorable moment of the weekend was when I realized I was extraordinarily proud to be from my adopted state of South Dakota. Every place I turned it seemed there was someone doing something positive to make the day a success.

When I woke up at 4 a.m. Sunday to get ready, I had my share of trepidations as to how the day would unfold. Arriving at the start area in the predawn gloom after dodging deer and other critters on the drive to Rochford, I was buoyed up to see some runner friends had decided to sign up to run and support the race. Last time I’d seen them, they hadn’t committed. Stacey Peterson and Randy Erickson determined they’d run together at a relaxed pace and just have fun. Lisa Christensen’s smile was a cheery sight as she quietly set about getting things lined up for her 4 person Relay Team, the Mandelbaums (Matt McGovern, Andrew Sveen & Kenna Hagan), that went on to ace their Co-ed Team division. Trevor Bryan, who just started distance running, showed up even though he’s run several marathons in the past few months already. After chatting with Mike Loos and a woman from Tennessee who was worried about the altitude, I made my way to the start and we were on our way to Hill City.

One of the outstanding perks of running your hometown marathon is all the people you know along the way. Just before the first tunnel on the course, two of the Black Hills’ best-known runners/RDs manned an aid station. Jerry Dunn and Monni Karim were a delightful surprise. Jerry runs two highly regarded Mickelson Trail runs, the Deadwood Marathon in June and a series of distance runs, the Leanhorse 100, 50 and 50K in August. A lesser person might have turned his back when the call for help went out; after all, in some sense, Jerry’s events compete with the Monumental Challenge. Not to mention getting up on a cold, dark Sunday morning to stand outside and hand out water and sports drink may occur to some RDs as being somehow “beneath” them. Monni’s put on some shorter distance runs and has logged some impressively speedy times in the not-too-distant past. The Southern Hills Business Manager for BHP and father of three, Monni—like all of the many volunteers—made a significant contribution of his time and energy to keep the Monument Challenge on track.

The half marathon started later and farther down the trail, which meant we got some pep and zing from many of local runners entered in that distance. They were a little fresher and their cheers were much appreciated—recall this was in that relentless uphill portion of the course. Lesley & Mark Warren, Craig Johnson, Barb Schulz, Ashley Riter-Collins, Cindy Holte, Jennifer Trucano, Lori Storm (of the Dakota Divas), the graceful Edith Weber—these are just a few of the Rapid City area people I know who were making the Monumental Challenge a reality. (Greg Sperlich supposedly finished but I didn’t see him, so he gets an * here!)

At mile 23, Teresa Verberg and her husband John, BHRC stalwarts, were waiting with a big and very loud tambourine to spur us on over the last 5K. Teresa recently completed a 50 miler (at the Leanhorse) and will be running the 2008 Boston Marathon, so she knows exactly where runners crave moral support. Thanks, T &J! Roger Heacock, also of BHRC and a Boston veteran was at mile 26 to be sure we kicked it in for the last .2, which went around a tricky turn at the gate. Lindsay Borgman, another BHRC chum was amongst the many supporters.

The best part of any marathon is crossing the finish line. Even though he could have stayed home to play with his new granddaughter, Anna Magdalana, BHRC’s revered Cap’n John Haeder was a most welcome sight as he wrapped us in a space blanket and gave us each a warm hug in spite of our mud and sweat. Later, after I had some chili in the food tent, I got to follow up on some stories that further underscore how the Monumental Challenge was a splendid day for so many. See the accompanying box for these postscripts.

“Successful people are always looking for opportunities to help others. Unsuccessful people are always asking, 'What's in it for me?' “ This is to all those who joined together to make the Monumental Challenge the success that is was, with the hope that 2008 will be better for all that was accomplished this year.

Two area runners have enduring ties to the marathon. Elaine Doll-Dunn, who is the RD of the Leading Ladies Marathon, has run in the Mt. Rushmore event every year since 1979. If that’s not enough to link her to it there’s also the fact that she met her husband, Jerry Dunn, at the 1993 running of the race. For the past few years, she’s taken up the half marathon. I got to run in the last few yards of her finish this year, and she looked great. Homer Hastings, of Newcastle, Wyoming, ran the first 25 years of the event and holds the Masters Marathon record of 2:34:30. Homer was there Sunday, finishing his 28th Mt. Rushmore/Monumental Challenge in 3:57:35, good enough to take his 60-64 age group. He bested competitors from Texas, California, Kentucky, and North Dakota to do it.

There was one other gentleman behind Homer, finishing 13 minutes later to pick up the second place award in that age group. For Tim Raben, a native South Dakotan who has returned home and now lives in Rapid City, the race was his own personal monumental challenge. Despite running roots that go back to high school track at Central under Coach Cobb (inspiration for the team name Cobblers), Tim had never run a marathon. Trained for several, but never was able to put it all together until this fall. His time was a Boston Qualifier for him for 2009. Not bad for a first-timer. I’m guessing this won’t be his last.

RUNNING WITH THE YOUNG

“Youth cannot know how age thinks and feels. But old men are guilty if they forget what it was to be young.” --J.K. Rowling, Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix, 2003.

A few weeks ago, I played hooky for a few hours and it was great. I didn’t go to the movies, or shopping, or fishing. (Think for a moment, where would you go if you were playing hooky?) I went to school—Southwest Middle School—where I had a date with the cross-country team.

When I was in school, girls didn’t have the option of running cross-country so I do not know a lot about how the sport is organized. Coach Gary Miller invited me to run with the team and I’d eagerly accepted. I was curious and excited as I drove through the gap and over to SWMS.

I parked my car and headed toward the cross-country team as they warmed up at the football field. I was surprised to find boys and girls together. It makes sense in that running is running, i.e., more gender-neutral than most other sports, but I had assumed there would be separate practices.

Coach Miller introduced me to the team and we chatted briefly about some of my running experiences. This was just after I’d run the Rushmore (Monumental Challenge) and Denver Marathons. The first is on the Mickelson trail while the latter is run entirely within Denver city streets, making for some marked contrasts. The group was anxious to get going, as was I, so I kept my remarks to a minimum and suggested we hit the streets. I was there to run! Accordingly, we looked to the coach for our instructions.

This was late in the season, so the run for that day was a longer one. Coach Miller explained that they practice every day after school except Friday, when they meet at 7:00 am. About once a week they do some sort of interval training, running shorter and faster, or uphill. Since these are very young runners, he tries to keep the intensity down. Early in the season, they might run out 10 minutes, turn around and come back. Using time instead of distance allows the better runners to go farther and gives him a sense of the varying strengths on the team.

The plan that day was to run to Common Cents and back, a distance of about 4 miles. One of the reasons the team wanted to get up and running was because an additional part of the plan involved Coach Miller springing for Slurpees (Slushies??) for each runner at the Common Cents Store in exchange for a promise that they run, and not walk the 2 miles back. My training drink is Accelerade, so I declined the offer, but I swear I did run both ways.

In fact, I ran 5 or so miles that day. I’ll explain why I got extra distance. When he’s not running with his team, Miller runs with the Black Hills Runners Club, as do I. He’s a little faster than me, which works out well. When we run together, I get to push my pace and he gets to talk while I listen. During our last few runs, he’d been telling me about an eighth grade girl on the team who has a lot of potential. He’d even compared her running style to mine. Her name is Kalie Maiden.

As the team was about to head out toward the Common Sense, Kalie and I were paired up to run together. In preparation for the upcoming All City meet, Kalie was running somewhat longer distances than the rest of the team. An extra mile or so was fine with me. We took off on her route at a brisk but companionable pace, allowing for some dialogue.

I learned that the All-City meet is the culmination of the middle school season, just as the high schools finish with their statewide competition. The team’s goal throughout the season is to run its best at that meet. All 5 middle schools compete, and medals are given out to the top 5 in each race. There are 6 races, boy & girls for 6th, 7th and 8th grades.

The day was a bit chillier than normal; I regretted not having my gloves, and Kalie had tucked her hands into her sleeves. Once we got moving, however, the nip in the air felt good. The leaves were turning beautifully but most were still on the trees, and the sun was in and out of the clouds. Kalie was the leader, as I had never run the route we took before, and she of course was quite familiar with it. We talked about running, school, other sports; Kalie was just over an injury so we compared notes on physical therapists and recovery techniques.

She told me about some past meets earlier in the year where she’d just missed coming in first. She was hoping to do well at the All City, but was a little concerned about the setback she’d experienced with the injury. On our way back to the school, she dutifully stopped and did her stretches.

There was nothing profound about our chat. We didn’t solve any problems or share any major insights. It was just comfortable conversation. Because of my work schedule, I most often run by myself. Running with someone is a pleasure. Running with someone who is at your pace (assuming Kalie wasn’t slowing down to be kind!) and easy to talk to is an even greater treat. I asked Kalie who she usually runs with at practice and she explained that she too usually runs alone as she often runs longer distances than the other team members.

While it was just a regular practice run for Kalie, it was an “eggshell” afternoon for me. Remember those large, confectionary eggs with the hole at one end you’d hold up to your eye and look into to find an entire scene in miniature inside the egg? That’s what I mean; in my mind’s eye, I have an image of running alongside Kalie on an autumn afternoon, delighting in learning a little about her, in running, in being entirely happy just to be exactly where I was at that moment.

I can’t say that I truly was remembering what it is like to be young, as intimated by the quote opening this article. After all, I had given myself license to play hooky for an hour or two while Kalie was having an ordinary day. We adults on the outside looking in at youth often fail to see their worries and the cares. She had homework to do after practice, the meet looming in the future, and all the other concerns of a young lady with goals and ambitions in life. Still, being in the midst of the team and spending time with Kalie filled me momentarily with that lightness of a limitless future so characteristic of youth.

Kalie and I met up with the team at the Common Cents; most everyone kept their word about running and not walking back. It’s clear there is a lot of fun built into the cross-country season. Twice during the season they run to a local park, meet the Stevens High kids and the West Middle kids and play running games. At another practice, the team faced an urban orienteering course. Everyone got a map and then ran around to find the points delineated on it. Coach Miller also tries to build in a game day on a weekly basis.

All too soon it was time to return to my “real” life. While I could not attend the All City Meet, I avidly poured over the results in the Journal in the days following. Kalie did win the All City Meet. She ran 12:40 in the 3000-meter race, well ahead of her nearest rival, who finished in 13:14. Congratulations, Kalie! Her time shows she could probably run a 5K in about 21:00, according to Coach Miller.

Running with someone from a different generation is invigorating. It provides an opportunity to gain new insights and to change your perspective, if only temporarily. Coach Miller invites parents to run with the team at any time, but I understand some of the kids may not be too encouraging if their folks indicate a willingness to do so. (Something about a “geek factor” there.) If you’re interested, but your children veto you running with their teams, there’s a group called “Girls on the Run of Pennington County,” you could contact. They describe themselves as “a life-changing, non-profit prevention program for young girls in the 3rd through 8th grade” whose mission is to "educate and prepare girls for a lifetime of self-respect and healthy living." Learn more at: http://www.gotrpennco.org/

In another Harry Potter book, J.K. Rowling wrote: “Age is foolish and forgetful when it underestimates youth.” (Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince, 2005) Spend some time with young people in the days ahead; it might just make you wiser and smarter!

RACING 101

Imagine a softball team comprised of several players striving to make their league’s playoffs while the remainder of the team sees the games as a time to play a little ball, drink a little beer, and have fun. Sounds like a bad experience all around for everyone, doesn’t it?

What value do you put on winning? Is competition the important element in sports or is the experience the thing you value? This is an ongoing issue for many of us. Witness the debate between parents who would like school sports to include every child who goes out for the team and those parents who want to have a merit based selection and participation process.

More so than in most other sports, running offers an outlet for people who compete at the most intense levels to those who run for the social and festive side of races. In a single race, Olympic hopefuls and elite runners may be jockeying for position at the front of the pack while folks in costumes and run/walkers pursue their own goals farther back. One of the intriguing aspects of running is how people change over time in terms of their attitude to competition. It is not uncommon for recreational runners to develop some competitive juices as their running habit becomes more ingrained.

How does this happen? At first, you take up running for health and fitness reasons. You start a run/walk program and find you develop the stamina to run a mile. It feels good! One mile becomes two miles. Friends notice and say: “You look good!” You see a 5K Run advert at the gym and consider working up to three miles. You register. Now you’re determined to add that third mile in your training so you can complete the entire run without walking.

Race day dawns. You have butterflies in your stomach and a race bib pinned to your shirt. Noticing the speedy young things at the front of the crowd, you find a place well back of the start. The gun goes off and you’re running, running faster than you’ve run on any of your training runs. The adrenalin, the other runners, the knowledge that you are in a race spurs you ahead. You are flying! Not wanting to run out of steam, you make yourself slow down and breath deeply, falling into a good pace for you. All around you are other runners. You actually pass some people who went out too fast and are now slowing down considerably.

Before you know it, you are crossing the finish line. You walk around a bit to catch your breath and keep your muscles moving, exchanging smiles and impressions with the other finishers. You get some water and some carbs, maybe a banana or bagel. You head over to the results board, where there’s a bit of a crowd. There is your number and your name.
There it is, for anyone to see. You finished your first race. Chances are, it will not be your last.

Perhaps this race has an awards ceremony, so you stick around and watch. You notice that not just the fastest runner is acknowledged. There are awards for both the fastest man and fastest woman. Then, there are awards for people by age groups. That nice 62 year old who finished not all that far ahead of you won an award in her age group. You go back to the results board and check out the winning times in your age group and compare it with your time. “Hmmm, I wonder what I could do to try and get faster,” you think.

And thus a recreational runner begins to turn into a competitive runner. Of course, there are varying degrees of being competitive. Sure, there are a small segment of folks who allow themselves to become obsessed, focusing every run and much of their non-running time on improving their times. Most runners find a balance, choosing to train for a race now and then, at which times they will become a bit more focused and might follow a training schedule designed by a running coach. These are available in books and often on line as well. The rest of the time, they incorporate running into their weekly schedules as a valued activity they practice either by themselves or with a running partner, and at times, with a running club.

Races are definitely fun; I see them as a celebration of running. Most of the time, I run alone. I love running with my club, the Black Hills Runners Club, but can only do about once a week, if that. Races bring together people of all ages and speeds, not to mention occupations, outlooks, and all the other qualities that make each of us unique. What we share is a love of running. While races are competitive, not everyone in the race is there to compete.

One of the best pieces of advice on racing I can pass along is this: “Never take finishing for granted.” This tenet, if you truly embrace it and keep it foremost in your heart and mind, will keep your running balanced. No matter what the distance, what the circumstances, know that you could pull up short with an injury, you could fall, any number of things might occur that would prevent you from finishing the race. Olympics fans might recall watching the women’s 3000-meter finals in the ’84 games when USA’s Mary Decker, bumped by a British runner, stumbled and fell, crushing her Olympic dreams into the track. Four years of sweat, toil, and training undone in an instant.

If you have run races in the past, hold on to that feeling you had when you finished your first race. The pride, the sense of accomplishment, the thrill of having achieved something you had only wondered at doing just a short time earlier; these are pure emotions worth reliving. Of course, it is fine to set loftier goals. You need to have a sense of how to pace yourself. A realistic estimate of how you think you’ll finish going at “race pace” is in order. It’s also good to set a second, faster goal—one that is at your outer limits and that would really please you if you were to reach it.

The trick is not to feel depressed at the end of the race should you fail to achieve those time goals you set. Sure, a little disappointment is in order. At some point, you’ll want to review what did not go as planned and what you learned from any mistakes or your experience. As difficult as they are, the races where you don’t do as well as you want are the best teachers. I went out too fast on an unseasonably warm day at a race one May and had a miserable final quarter. As a result, I am a much better runner in the heat today. And yes, I hung in there and finished, for which I am both grateful and proud. You put your disappointment in perspective so you walk away feeling good about something. Finishing—even if it isn’t pretty-- is an accomplishment.

John Bingham is a national columnist on running who calls himself and others like him “penguins.” He describes a penguin as person who runs for the joy of running, who is “consumed by the pleasure of movement.” Bingham runs races, and does so with verve, a smile, and an infectious spirit. He has a slightly different focus on finishing a race, as you can tell from his motto: “The miracle isn’t that I finished. The miracle is that I had the courage to start.” On his website (http://www.johnbingham.com/penguin.html), he lists a number of ways you can tell if you might be a penguin. Some of them include:
--during a race, you keep turning around to see if there is still anyone behind you.
--you shoot a 24 shot roll of film during a marathon.
--the truck picking up the cones is pressing on your behind.
--you recognize all the regular runners on your favorite route from behind.
--the awards ceremony is over before you cross the finish line.

His sense of humor and open approach have inspired many people to get off the couch and start running. You can read more about John and his “Penguin Manifesto” in his book No Need for Speed.

If you are running or run/walking but have never thought before about entering a race, why not consider it? The lovely thing about running in a race is that people of all different abilities can compete in the same race and share that race experience. Unlike the softball team with its potentially warring factions (the strivers and the fun-seekers), a race has room for the seriously intense and the joyous penguins and for everyone in between.

One new runner once confided to me she was afraid to enter a race because she was she thought she’d be last. My response to that is that sure, someone always has to be last in the race. It might be you. How you do at any race on any day is always a function of who else shows up to run. You can feel bad about finishing last if you compare yourself to the other people in the race. You can deal yourself out of a potentially great time if you let that stop you from trying.

In the alternative, you can get up on race day, put on your shoes and go down to the start and register. Look around you and get excited about the race that is about to begin. Think about all the other people in town or in your social network who are not there, who are going to be perhaps surprised and impressed if you tell them you competed in a race. Runners are a pretty good group of people overall. We all started sometime, somewhere, and we’ll be really supportive if you tell us it is your first race. You’ll get lots of grins and congratulations from most if not all of the rest of pack, even if you do finish last.

Set your goals by your own internal standards. Finishing the race is a good goal. Having the courage to start, as John Bingham points out, is an even better one. And having fun is the best one of all. See you at the races!

NORTH TO ALASKA!

Most South Dakotans know that Pierre is one of only a handfull (5) of state capitals not served by an interstate highway. Perhaps fewer of us are aware that one of the other four not only lacks an interstate, it is totally unreachable by any sort of road or trail. Juneau, Alaska is accessible only by sea or air travel. There are roads and cars, but all end; the main highway’s stopping point is referred to by residents fittingly as “End of the Road.”

Having run a marathon in at least 30 states, I was in the market for an Alaskan marathon to add to my expereinces. Juneau offers a small, well-established one in August, featuring cool weather, a scenic, uncomplicated course, and fresh grilled salmon free to all finishers at the end of the run. Given the spate of 100+ degree days we’d been experiencing in the Black Hills this summer coupled with my penchant for seafood, this race beckoned. (Needless to say, it helps that my husband is an avid traveller, even in this day of airport snafus and aggravation.)

Rule number one in travelling to a marathon is get a room first. We’d decided relatively late to try this trip, and were lucky enough to find a place complete with a fully equipped kitchette that wasn’t too spendy. Registering for the race and booking a flight were more easily accomplished. Next steps were directly to the Rapid City Library where I found the Lonely Planet’s guide to Alaska along with Alaska for Dummies. My husband checked out an Alaskan travel DVD and Jonathan Raban’s Passage to Juneau. Much more than a travelogue, the Raban book descibes a voyage he made through the inner passage from Seattle to Juneau, while exploring both the histroy of the area and some personal emotional journies of his own.

Anticipation is one of the essential parts of travel. We eagerly awaited the start of our trip, taking delight in packing decisions involving jackets and heavier warm-up pants for the 50 degree nights and early mornings in our future. Summer’s great; I love it, but running when it’s over 90 isn’t recommended, and with good reason! The climate change became more real once we were in the Alaskan Airlines part of the Seattle terminal, observing folks deplaning from Alaska in jackets.

Arriving on Wednesday, I had several days before the race on Saturday and got in some easy sight-seeing runs, including one 7 miler on a delightfully sunny Thursday afternoon. Juneau is in what is described as a “temperate rainforest” and the array of plants and trees are astounding. There are a number of hiking trails in and around town. Friday’s packet pick-up was at the Goldbelt Hotel; I made arrangements with Steve, a runner from Ventura Beach to get a ride to the start, across the bay in Douglas.

Race day dawned overcast and mild, just perfect for marathoning. We arrived at the start, where I happily greeted Rob Lopez, a Maniac friend from Seattle. Rob ran the course last year; this year, he is running and raising money for breast cancer research, attired in a bright pink shirt. I also bumped into fellow Black Hills Running Club member Gary Miller, in Alaska for a family wedding and there in anticipation of the half-marathon to start later on in the day.

We marathoners lined up, met a few fellow runners, including a first time marathoner from Cocoa beach, Florida and another Floridian from Naples. They were fairly ecstatic about the weather as they traded comparisons on who had to contend with more humidity back home.

At the start, we saw Shawn Miller, who would go on to win the race. About the only other time we saw him on the course was as we headed toward (and he had long since made) the turn-around at the 13 mile mark. He finished 40 minutes ahead of the second place runner with a blazing 2:33. Rob and I ran the first half of the race together, chatting amicably at times and also just enjoying stretches of companionable silence while we took in the beauty around us, occassionally pointing out an eagle or one of the many narrow ribbons of waterfalls that cascaded down the hills to our left. To our right was the bay, and, as we neared the turn-around, the Mendenhall Glacier. Rob waved me on at the point so I was mostly solo for several miles with the glorious view of the Glacier to contemplate. This was just an awe-inspiring vista and truly eclipsed the description of the course as being “scenic.”

I’d noticed at the turn-around there was just one other woman ahead of me. (Remember, it was a very small marathon.) Since I was feeling great, running in high 50 degree weather at sea level, I increased my pace just a notch to see what might happen. Sure enough, around mile 17 I caught her. Kate is 28 and from Juneau, I learned as we chatted a bit before I moved ahead.

There was a half marathon that started 2 hours after we did, an out and back on our same course. Just as I approached their turn-around (6.55 miles from the finish), the lead runners were making their turns. A number of half marathoners passed me, of course, as they were running a faster pace and I got to see a great many more coming at me. It was a pleasant change to be surrounded by so many people after the previous solitude. The peaceful nature of the middle of the run was wonderful, but having company for those final 6 miles helped with the fatigue that sets in no matter how good you felt at the halfway mark.

I crossed the finish line in 3:31, 4th overall and the first woman. The finishers medal is a raven head in the style of one of the Native American tribes of the area. There was a fantastic feast awaiting us; grilled burgers, hot dogs, and abundant salmon. While we ate (and there was a massage corner, for those runners wanting some loosening up), the awards were given out and a woman who had completed her quest to run a marathon in all 50 states was acknowledged.

While I hope that every marathon is one I’ll remember, I know that this one will always have a special place in my mind’s eye. That’s not just because of my finish. I’d remember this one for the beauty of the land alone. Factor in the outstanding welcome provided by all of the race volunteers who take demonstrable pride in putting on a first-class event and you have one truly unforgettable experience.

THREE MARATHONS

Does realizing the summer is winding down cause you to pick up the pace in your schedule, trying to get in as much fun as possible before the school bells ring and the autumn leaves fall? Fun for me is running marathons, so I found myself signed up to run three in the fifteen days between August 19th and September 2nd. Most people who run marathons run them a bit more spaced out than that. I often run with a group of people who will sometimes run that many in a weekend, hence the name “Marathon Maniacs.” [e.g., there is an annual fall event at Lake Tahoe, the “Tahoe Triple,” wherein participants circle the lake in three days. Each leg is 26.2 miles; the last one being the Lake Tahoe Marathon, set for September 29th this year. ]

Since I have never run more than two marathons in a single weekend, and have never, ever run an ultra, my relative sanity is thus established. An ultra is a race over 26.2 miles long. Some common ultra distances are 50K, about 32 miles, 50 miles, and 100 miles. I’m always quite content, elated even, to stop running at 26.2.

These three recent marathons provided some most excellent company that I want to tell you about. While each was in a different state, I placed in each, and the courses were each in their own way distinctive, the most striking feature for me were my running companions. They included a host of women from across the country, horses, one remarkable dog, and Elvis.

#1: Running with the Leading Ladies
August 19th dawned…well no, strike that. I had to get up well before dawn that Sunday in order to be at the start line of the Leading Ladies Marathon in Spearfish. August is toasty so the race starts at 6, allowing us to beat the heat. This is the third year of the LLM, originated and directed by the extraordinary Elaine Doll-Dunn. Almost every woman who participates in this event raves about the organization, the friendly and capable men who volunteer at the aid stations, and all the extra touches (e.g., a truffle with your race packet, a rose and a lemon-scented towelette for you as you cross the finish line).

Then there’s Elaine. Runner, educator, mother, race director, wife of a race director, writer….she is so many things, and she does it all with style, class, and wit, in really cool shoes or boots. In fact, she could do stand-up if the other gigs fall through. As one of the ’07 participants wrote in her evaluation: “What a dynamo—I want to be her when I grow up!”

A celebration of women’s running, the LLM takes off at the Lead Country Club and finishes at City Park in Spearfish; in between are 26 miles of some of most spectacularly scenic roads in South Dakota. Sharing those roads with women who bring not only their grit and determination, but also their support and concern for one another, is inspirational and always a very emotional experience for me.

Some readers may find it hard to believe, but the women’s Olympic Marathon is just over 20 years old. Joan Benoit (Samuelson) won that first event in 1984. You may have seen Joanie pacing Lance Armstrong last November at his first marathon in NYC. She’s qualified for the 2008 Olympic Trials, so look for her again this spring.

Even harder to fathom is the fact that in 1967, Kathrine Switzer, having registered as K.V. Switzer on her Boston Marathon registration, was nearly forced out of the race once officials discovered she was a woman. The rules forbade women from running with men and from running the marathon distance.

Heading back to my hotel room with another woman just after finishing Boston a few years ago, we were approached by a young journalism student who asked if she could interview us. She was covering the event and her angle was women in the marathon. As we chatted, we referred to the K Switzer incident, and drew a blank look from our interrogator. Her eyes grew wide, then wider still, as we recounted the story of Kathrine’s being chased by B.A.A. official Jock Semple, who tried to grab and rip her number from her shirt. She managed to evade him and finish the race, the first officially registered woman to do so. (Others had finished it, but without having entered.) Officially, women were not allowed to enter the Boston Marathon until 1972, a mere 35 years ago.

Against that backdrop, the Leading Ladies Marathon shines with the success and the sweat of each and every woman who finishes, no matter what her time or place. It’s a privilege to run with and learn something about many of the participants. Seeing the little girls awaiting their moms, sisters, aunts and grandmas at the finish always gives me an extra burst of energy over that last .2 miles. Their vistas are wider and richer than were mine at their age, thanks to Kathrine, Joan, Elaine, and many other women who just kept on---and are still keeping on—running.

#2: Running with Murphy
The next weekend we headed west to Wyoming to the “Run with the Horses” Marathon in Green River. While I’d passed this area on the Interstate a number of times, this was my first visit. The name of this race is literal; the starting point is next to the Wild Horse Kiosk located at the east entrance of the Wild Horse Loop Tour on County Road 14. Wild horses run and frolic along the high desert countryside. Almost all of the course is on unpaved roads, which we shared with some tame horses and their riders.

Reviews from runners in past years call this course “challenging.” While there are rolling hills, most of the difficulty is due to altitude. Elevation is 6800’ at the start, and then you run mostly uphill for the first five miles. The course continues across the top of White Mountain along the Pilot Butte Wild Horse Loop Tour at between 7300 and 7500'.

The horses made it a unique race; seeing them galloping along against a backdrop of wide-open blue-sky and undeveloped desert was thrilling. My mind expanded as my lungs tried to do the same in the thin air. Still, this year the horses were secondary to Murphy. Del Acker is a 50-something runner from Sheridan, Wyoming who adopted Murphy as a puppy in 2002 from the local animal shelter. He’s a handsome, reddish shorthaired dog with a curlicue tail and ears that stand up but flop over at the tips. Weighing 35 pounds, he stands about 19 inches….but he rarely just stands.

Del first ran with Murphy in a 2 miler to benefit the shelter when Murphy was 7 months. From that experience, Del determined that Murphy was “hooked” on running, so started to train with him. I learned a lot of this in an article Del wrote for the magazine Marathon & Beyond last year, and more when I found myself running with him at Boston in April. I kept hearing people cheer on “Wyoming” and so looked around thinking I must have a neighbor here (when you’re in Boston, someone from Wyoming feels like practically a relative); sure enough, it was Del, attired in a shirt proudly proclaiming his home state. We chatted about our dogs, as we had to leave them home and were missing them. He told me he’d gotten clearance from the Race Director at the “Run with the Horses Marathon” to run with Murphy, another reason I was interested in this race.

Murphy is now a marathon finisher—not only did he finish, but he was in under 4 hours. I ran at about the same pace as Del, Murphy, and their friend Curt, so had the opportunity to experience the race with them, and what a treat! Whenever my energy flagged in this race, I had only to look toward Murphy’s happy tail and dogged determination to reconnect with the joy of running.

Now, experienced marathoners know that it is best to take the initial miles slowly. Murphy’s first timer energy was apparent as he leaped off at the sound of the start, but Del wisely reined him in to a brisk but settled pace. Clearly in his element, Murphy maintained a forward focus for the entire distance. Eschewing Gatorade, he stopped at each aid station, drank some water then tugged on his leash to indicate he wanted to hit the road again. Even when the aid station volunteer had a companion dog, Murphy kept his socializing at a minimum. He was there to run.

While you won’t find him listed in the official results, Murphy finished just after I did, putting him at 11th overall in a very respectable 3:52. Del and Curt followed just behind. After Del made sure Murphy got a cooling dip in the Green River, we four compared notes post race. We all agreed it was a grand run but just three of us voiced relief at crossing the finish line. As for Murphy, well, remember my reference to ultra runners at the start of this piece? I’m guessing that Murphy has his sights set on a longer distance.

#3: Running with Elvis

The third of my little summer triple crown is the Mississippi Marathon, run on September 2. We flew into Memphis and drove to Tupelo for it. Elvis was born and spent his early years in Tupelo, where you can visit his very small boyhood home and the hardware store from which came his first guitar. Of course, Graceland, his final home (mansion), is in Memphis. Even now, 30 years after his death, the wall in front of Graceland is a sort of chalkboard where the faithful are allowed to paint notes to Elvis. Every square inch is covered and overlapped. I’m not a devotee and was stunned at the level of adulation evidenced there.

The marathon was on a Sunday, beginning at the outskirts of town. Starting out at 5 a.m. in the dark (a concession to the heat), we wound through quiet Tupelo streets and roads amidst the sounds of summer insects, an occasional rooster or dog and our own rhythmic footfalls. Race organizers had passed out small handheld flashlights, resulting in an array of twinkling lights as we began to spread out according to our respective paces. The ethereal atmosphere made it easy to believe the spirit of Elvis may have been present. Or maybe that’s what happens to your mind when you run three marathons in fifteen days.

RUNNING AWAY

There seems to be an old Chinese proverb for just about every situation you might encounter in life. One that I’ve always held dear is this: “Always keep a place to which you can retreat.” Having grown up in a solid working class family in Detroit, I do not interpret this as meaning one needs to own a second home. Far from it; I have enough to do attempting to maintain just one! Instead, I read “retreat” as meaning taking time away from routine, worries, or the normal wear and tear of everyday life.

Of course, retreating is also thought of as “running away, ” and that often carries with it a negative connotation. Certainly running away from home is rarely a good idea, and running away from your problems, if done too often or for too long, makes you rather unpopular with family, friends, and work colleagues. Running away or retreating can seem cowardly.

In the midst of the Great Depression, FDR exhorted the nation that “the only thing we have to fear is fear itself.” His wife, Eleanor, later observed: “You gain strength, courage and confidence by every experience in which you really stop to look fear in the face.” We Americans value those who “face the music.”

Sometimes when you get those butterflies in your stomach, just the idea of looking fear in the face can make you green around the gills. Sometimes when the music plays, the last thing you want to do is sing or dance. Sometimes you are sad, worried, blue, or scared. Whether it stems from work or family or health or some other source, most of us have that feeling now and again of being if not overwhelmed, then of feeling gloomy and glum. You know that if you even stepped foot in the kitchen to begin to try to make lemonade out of the bag of lemons you’ve been handed, you’ll be out of sugar and the pitcher will have a crack in it.

That’s when I resort to running away. While it may take all my energy to psych myself into getting on my running clothes and shoes, once I’m into the rhythm of a run, I’m glad. This is the kind of run where I do not set a time or distance goal, but just head out to clear my head and do something I know I can do. It is simple, elemental. I do not hook up an ipod or CD but just let my mind run along it’s own course as my feet do the same. At the end, I never feel worse than when I started out and I almost always feel better. That’s not to say the problem is solved, just that my mental perspective has improved and I have good sense of physical well-being.


At the end of the day, at least I can reflect back on the time I spent running and feel that I did something of value. A missed run today cannot be made up by running twice tomorrow (well, you could run two times in one day, but do that too often and you’ll probably injure yourself). The windows I didn’t wash or the floor I didn’t sweep will be there tomorrow when I can tend to them with a cheerier outlook (and probably more energy) for allowing myself to run away from them for just a bit.

As I write this, I have Del Shannon’s “Runaway” running in my head (while that does date me, let me also point out I had an older brother who was a teen in the early ‘60s). Here, share it with me. Remember these classic lyrics? “…and I wonder. I won-won-won-won-wonder. Why. Why why why why why she ran away. And I wonder where she will stay. My little runaway. Run-run-run-run runaway.”

Perhaps the important difference is whether your intent is to go and stay away for good, as did the girl who broke Del Shannon’s young heart, or just to allow yourself a bit of a reprieve, a break or some “down-time” from whatever is bothersome to you at the present time. While running away can be irresponsible, it can also be the best response to some situations. I can think of several instances when running away saved me from doing something stupid.

When a situation or person is annoying or irritating, it is tempting, sometimes very tempting, to want to say something harsh. During the holidays, when relatives and friends descend, our homes often become more crowded than we’re used to them being. Rather than addressing head-to-head some minor frustration with a person you care about (who will be happily ensconced back in their home soon), going out for a run gives you some blessed time alone and the opportunity to work out some of your pent-up energy. By the time I return, the feeling of being near boiling point has cooled off and I find I have my equilibrium back.

Just the process of being in motion and out of doors can cause you to think about whatever is bothering you in a new or more creative fashion. A few years ago, a colleague mentioned that a mutual acquaintance, also a lawyer, was about to start a week-long trial and was running a marathon the weekend before. Didn’t I think that was irresponsible? , he asked me. “No, not at all,” I replied. What a perfect way to go over your opening argument, or to consider your theory of the case and what points you are making through each witness. You can think uninterrupted by phones or people dropping by, and you won’t be able to get up from your desk to tune into the game or see what the headlines are on CNN!

Running away can be so absorbing that you find your everyday cares and worries get lost as you put on the miles. There’s a book called Finding Flow by Mihaly Csikzentmihalyi that is based upon psychological studies of thousands of people. The author contends that most of us are out of touch with our emotional lives. He argues that we are at our best when we are fully absorbed in something that we delight in doing. This doesn’t have to be running. That’s just what works for me. If you complete a mathematical puzzle, play a musical piece, build a table, write a computer program, or climb a mountain, you might experience “flow.” It’s the doing of an activity that causes you to lose track of time, to be “at one” with the action.

Of course, I don’t experience this with every run. When I do, I often find that some problem or worry has somehow been percolating in my subconscious. Some hours later, after the run is over, when I bring it forward (or it pops back up unbidden), it is not uncommon to discover that I now see a way to resolve it, or at least, have a better handle on how to approach it.

I hope the next time your shoulder aches from keeping it on the wheel for too long, or your nose itches from being too close to the grindstone, you’ll figure out how to run away for a bit. If you need a bit more convincing from a reputable source, here’s something to keep in mind. At the end of the nineteenth century, the Duke of Wellington was asked his opinion of the best test of a great general. His response? “To know when to retreat, and to dare to do it.” Take heart, run away, and enjoy the journey.

JULY RACES

MYSTIC RUNNING: Tucked away in the “Scoreboard” page of the Sports section on Tuesday, July 10th were the results of the “Mystic Mountain Run,” held Sunday, July 8th. That listing tells you who ran it and in what order they finished, but those names and numbers are but the binding of a book that contains numbers of absorbing and varied stories.

I’d run Mystic a few times in the past, but vowed “never again!” after my involuntary tree-hugging experience a few years back. A highlight of the 7.9 run is the ascent and then downhill on Bright Angel Trail. The uphill, single-track segment forces all but the half-human/half-mountain goats among us to hike, not run, while the downhill gives those with some degree of confidence and ability to run trails a significant opportunity to counter the time lost on the uphill. Recall in my prior column how I described my own trail running as being rather crab-like. When last at Mystic, the momentum of my downhill run was stopped by a craggy Black Hills pine—all in all, a good thing, as whatever scrapes and bruises incurred were preferable to tumbling off the side of the mountain.

Given the responsibility of reporting on running for the Journal, it seemed clear I needed to break that vow and go run Mystic again. It was a beautiful morning; warm, but since the day before the high at the Rapid City Airport registered 109, the 70s in which we started were a welcome contrast. There was more humidity than we are used to here in the hills, and some fairly cheeky mosquitoes and downright nasty black flies. Spirits were high as we slapped ourselves at the start; Dennis and Pat Lundsford, the race directors (and proprietors of the Runners Shop in Rapid City) welcomed us to the 37th running of the race, the 2nd oldest in South Dakota. (The oldest is the Jack 15 Road Race (15.2 miles) - White, SD to Brookings, SD. This year, the 45th running will take place on Saturday, September 22nd, 2007). The Lundsfords took it over some time ago and the race is a 1st class event, from the organization to the shirts to the awards to the post race food.

Owing to the single track, the race calls for a particular sort of trail etiquette in that as one slows down, the thunder of speedier runners can be heard from behind (not to mention panting, in some cases). Generally, it is considered bad form not to yield the right of way to these folks, as, after all, it is a race and not a nature walk. I was happy to do so, as long as those passing stayed to my left (the steep cliff-side). On the downhill side, I again gladly made way and tried to learn a thing or two from Lorna Squyer (Nemo) and the many other gazelle-like forms gamboling through the forest.

The women’s race proved to be quite close, with Jennifer Maimbert, from Nebraska, finishing a mere 8 seconds in front of Rapid’s own Tanja Cutting. Not to take away from these two wonderful runners, who are in the 20-29 and 30-39 age groups, respectively, third place was nailed down by Cindy Holte, age 50, just 4 minutes later. The men’s race was marred a bit by a few front runners taking a wrong turn and losing their way This is something I’m very familiar with—not front running, but the getting lost part, and so those guys shall remain nameless. The winner was 30-something Matt Althoff of Sioux Falls, a repeat winner. Two minutes later, Mike Krsnak, a high school student from Rapid City, dashed in while less than 3 minutes later, Jason Nichols of Cheyenne, another 30-something, edged out Jim Meyer of Spearfish for third.

Not everyone runs to win; most of know that’s not in the cards. Homer Hastings, of Newcastle, runs because he runs everyday, somewhere and because he’s been running Mystic for over a quarter-century. Sunday was Homer’s 33rd Mystic and he ran it in glorious form, taking 3rd in his age group. Emily Wheeler and Nicole Craig ran it together, as they ran the Bighorns Run last month in June; you might recognize them as they work together and provide many of us with their fitness expertise at the YMCA in Rapid City. Emily’s mom, Barb Schulz ran it—you might recognize her name as one of the South Dakotans who ran the Boston Marathon this year. Barb did capture her age group prize, not surprisingly.

One of the most interestingly competitive age groups is the Men’s 50-59 division. The top three finishers were Gary Haven, Rapid City, edging out Tony Thoresen, Brandon, by 14 seconds, followed by Al Arendt (another running lawyer—it comes in handy given our line of work) of Pierre. All of these gentlemen were over the finish line in under an hour. Dennis Meier, a Rapid Citian who finished 20th overall, had to settle for 4th! Dennis is an excellent and exceptionally modest runner who is a gentleman both on and off the roads and trails. His wife Connie finished looking fresh and smiling, wanting to compare notes on how many different types of wild flowers we’d seen along the trail. Ron Bunnell, Rapid City’s Black Hills Frame Shop owner could answer that as he’d stopped to pick his wife a nosegay of bergamot, black-eyed susans and Queen Anne’s lace he spied as he trotted along the path.

After the awards were given out, we were treated to hot dogs and Pat’s gourmet array of homemade salads, including several tasty choices for vegetarians. Fresh fruit, chips and regular picnic fare along with sweeties for dessert rounded out the repast. One little girl went through the buffet line and ended up with a plate full of brownies and watermelon, just the thing for a hot July Sunday.

HEART RUNNING: The following weekend found many of the Mystic Runners along with some road runners gathering Saturday in Hill City at the 1880 Train Station, registering for the 28th Annual Heart of the Hills 10.4 mile run down the old Hill City Road into Keystone. Once you get the fairly steep hill behind that occurs in the first couple miles of the run, you can begin to appreciate it. The remainder of the course is gently rolling hills, and mostly downhills so you can easily compensate for the slow-down due to the climb.

Unlike most organized races, this one begins at 6:30 in the evening, just perfect for summer running. Interestingly, the race used to be run the other way, Keystone to Hill City, making for a much more challenging event as the overall run would be uphill. Gary Miller showed up in what he termed an “antique,” which was a t-shirt from one of those events. No comment as to Gary’s age, but I will point out he earned that shirt fair and square by having run the race. We managed to get him pointed in the right direction, kept him on track and saw to it that he was one of 88 finishers.
Whereas Mystic was won by out-of towners, two Rapid Citians aced the Heart of the Hills—and each had been runner-up at Mystic. Tanja Cutting easily took top honors on the women’s side with a 1:14:32. She finds the 10-mile distance to be “perfect” for her, she said, but we note she’s recorded some very fast half-marathon times. There aren’t many races between the length of a 10K (6.2 miles) and a half-marathon (13.1). Rarities like the Heart of the Hills and Mystic occur infrequently.

Mike Krsnak, with decades of running ahead of him, crossed the finish line first in 1:02:31. We suspect he’ll be breaking the hour mark in a few years, and perhaps even has an eye on Rod DeHaven’s record for the course, dating back to 2000. [How many readers know his time?]

Two people won their age groups at both Mystic and Heart of the Hills. Gary Haven cruised in before Joe Herdina of Sioux Falls Saturday by just under a minute, finishing in 1:10:35. (Randy Ericksen, who has been on award stands for his mountain biking feats, was third in that age group.) The other gentleman who managed to pick up two firsts is Charles Summers, of Rapid City. Charles had a 1:36:04 finish at Mystic, nearly 10 minutes ahead of his nearest rival. His HOH time was 1:58:50. Charles dresses in stylish, colorful running gear and finishes with verve and a smile. He appreciates the fact that Dennis and Pat Lundsford acknowledge his age group, as many races do not. He’s in the 70 and Over category…..and I’m guessing when he reaches 80, he’ll be lobbying for a new age group recognition!

Two memorable races within 7 days; runners don’t get much luckier than that! Thanks to all who volunteered to make them possible, and to all who participated.