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.
Thursday, August 30, 2007
Wednesday, August 15, 2007
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.
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.
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