"More to Life:" a JFK 50-Miler Report

Mikes Keene and Valliant at the pre-race meeting at the Boonsboro High School Gymnasium just prior to the start of the 45th annual JFK 50-mile race.

For what is ostensibly a "race," none of the runners in the JFK 50-mile race seem to be in any sort of hurry. At least not if you run where I do in the race. The opposite really: everyone is chatting, encouraging each other, laughing. It's more like a group run. But that's probably what deciding you are going to try to run 50 miles will do to you.

For those who are less narratively-inclined, there were three Eastern Shore boys that we know ran on Saturday. All three finished:

Stephen Bardsley - 9:35
Mike Keene - 10:35
Mike Valliant - 11:28

If you are interested in scoping the official results, you can check em out on the JFK website. Interesting how we each finished an hour apart from each other, though I have to say that it was in direct proportion to how prepared each of us was. Bardsley trained like a madman. Keene has unbridled energy and seems to bound between strides. And in this particular case, I was not trained well for the challenge, having been sick, then short on time.

It didn't make the most sense for me to try to run on Saturday. But maybe the best way to describe the reason I did is to steal a quote from the back of the shirts a certain team wore: "the JFK 50 miler - there is more to life than logic and common sense."

I had a sense that if I took my time and focused on my mantra for the day--"conservation is key"--that I had a shot at finishing. And crossing the line under the 12-hour cutoff time was my only goal for the day.

The race is a run in three parts: 15-ish miles leading up to and on the Appalachian Trail, 26.4 miles on the C&O Canal Towpath, and then a little more than 8 miles on the road, winding up and down hills to the finish. Anyone who knows me and running, already knows that the single-track and switchbacks on the AT were the highlight of the race for me.

I cruised on the rolling stretches, passing a good number of folks, then zagged ahead of a group I was with on a set of serious switchbacks. I ended up hitting the C&O in a little under 3 hours and 30 minutes.

The canal towpath is scenic, flat, and dirt. Given how long you are on it, it can feel like a revolving loop--that you are running over the same stretch of some alternate reality. Though completely untechnical, and having no hills, this was the hardest part of the race, for mental /psychological reasons.

A few key factors went in to me finishing at all: 1) taking Succeed "S" (electrolyte) caps, which kept my legs cramp-free for 50 miles, 2) a decision to shun Gatorade for water and get calories and carbs from gel, bananas, pretzels, and food along the way, and 3) the advice of JFK veterans on the Annapolis Trail Runners group to tackle the towpath in an 8 minutes running, 2 minutes walking cadence, or some variation thereof.

As soon as I got on the towpath, I started following my watch and rocking the 8-2 split. My 8s were not fast, but I will tell you that 8 minutes seems to last a lot longer than 2. Knowing that I had a scheduled time to walk, and then get going again, kept me occupied and moving forward with a plan. It allowed me to keep moving forward, by design.

That stretch of the canal path was one of the most difficult combinations of mental and physical determination that I have ever been through. I wouldn't call it fun, per se. But what brought it close to being fun, was the STELLAR aid stations, volunteers, crews, fans, etc. who are there cheering, feeding, encouraging everyone. A memorable hand-written sign at one station said, "Never underestimate the power of a large group of stupid people." Another, advice from a wife/crew to her husband running the Badwater Ultramarathon (135 miles), "You aren't puking, nothing is broken, so get going!"

The emotional lift I got when we turned off the C&O canal, and stepped back into reality on the road was surreal. With 7 miles to go in the race, I had more energy and better legs than I did with 7 to go in the Baltimore Marathon. I was cruising by people--largely in the dark at this time--giddy, slaphappy, and digging it all. I pushed a little hard, and neglected an aid station, and with 2.5 miles to go, I started feeling light-headed and stumbling a little.

I thought about those people who pass out or collapse within sight of the finish line, and how much that would suck to have happen after running 47.5 miles. So I throttled back and walked the next mile, while sucking down a gel, and some M&Ms at the next aid station. I put back enough in the tank to shuffle downhill and across the flats to come in to the final quarter-mile and be able to run the end and cruise into the finisher chute in 11:28:47.

I found Keene in the locker room and from there, through the bus ride back to Mike's truck, through the entire ride home to the Shore, swapped race stories; folks we ran with; low points and highlights; the overall experience. I will have substantially more to say about what I take away from the JFK at a later date here.

It all comes back to the shirt. Logic and common sense would have had me sitting home (where I am thrilled to be right now!), waiting until I was better trained; or bagging the notion of running 50 miles. Instead I have cultivated, explored, and expanded those parts of the soul and the body, where logic sits quietly, in awe, and enjoys, not having to think.

Acknowledging the Herons

Spotting a heron on Papermill Pond is an unspoken conversation with both Nature and the running gods--it dials me in to the world and often helps psychologically create, or further, a good run. Photo by Robert Grieser, courtesy of CBMM.

I would consider bringing a heron along with me to Hagerstown on Saturday, if it was practical. My friends on Papermill Pond along both St. Michaels and Oxford Roads, scoping a heron often gives me a mental lift and kick-in-the-running-shorts during a long morning run. They've been good for running and for a two-way smile with Creation, a grinning glimpse possible only by putting the time in outside.

There are games, signals, and mental marks all along my frequent routes for runs. This past Friday, on an 8-mile out-and-back up Oxford Road, I passed geese pitching in; startled some whitetail deer across from Waverly Road, and (figuratively) tipped my hat to a heron stationed on the shoreline. It was one of those "why I run" moments, which frequently occur during early morning runs.

Yet, the head-shaking moment came passing the YMCA, both coming and going, with folks plodding along on the treadmills, elliptical trainers, stationery bikes, and stairmasters. I am sure there is something enjoyable about shooshing along to Headline News first thing in the morning, much the same way as a hamster supremely digs the wheel he runs on in his cage. The key difference I see between the two--the treadmiller and the hamster--is that the hamster is making the best of the surroundings he's dealt. The treadmiller chooses his/her wheel.

I don't mean to bust on the cardio-moles here. This is my own, leaning askew perspective--a mindset developed from running outside in a variety of temperatures, seasons, and times of day. I will hop on a stairmaster or treadmill in a pinch and enjoy the workout, but I would rather run in 20 degree weather outside for the adventure of it.

Did someone say adventure? The calendar says that the JFK 50-miler is this Saturday, November 17 with a 7 a.m. start. Training and health have been makeshift, as has been well-documented in past entries, but feel like they have been moving slowly in the right direction. I ran my 8-miler on Friday in 1:13:32, at a sustainable pace, for negative splits, with a good pace for the last 2 or so miles. That puts the pace at a hair over 9-minute miles without really dropping the hammer.

Conditioning, nutrition, equipment, weather on the tangible side; momentum, determination, Aries-like stubbornness on the intangible, will be telling factors for Saturday.

Funny, somehow I have already moved my running outlook to the other side of the race, appreciating runs of any distance; savoring the setting; running just to run, not as part of a training plan, but as a way of life, a way of being; and acknowledging the herons.

Running in the Woods

July, October--what's the difference really when you get to go run in the woods?

Much on the mind these days...Monday, October 29, met Stephen Bardsley and Mike Keene for a longish Tuckahoe run, which ended up at 2:56:51 for me (which includes clock running during an 11-minute refueling break at the end of about 10 miles, reached in 1:51), and 5-10 minutes less for the speedier Bardsley and Wood Frog. Must have been a 15-ish mile run when all was done, perhaps farther. It was great to be running in the woods, catching up and talking shop about the JFK-50 miler. It was an encouraging run for me, 1) in that in many stretches I could just run like a kid, smile on face, and feet on terrain, and 2) my legs actually got tired before my breath gave out, which is REALLY encouraging after recent runs. Bardsley and Keene, in my mind, are poised for great first-time finishes at JFK. I am hoping to rock the under-12-hour finish, given my conditioning and training as of now.

Much on the mind these days...Nov. 3 was a new day for American marathon running with Ryan Hall dominating--as in pulling away from an elite field of American marathoners by running a 4:35 mile at like mile 18--the field, to win the Olympic Marathon trials in NYC, in only his second marathon race. He is also the guy who set the new American half-marathon record by running the half in 59 minutes and change. However, what should have been a straight-up celebration, ends up a sad day for running as 28-year-old Ryan Shay, one of the best of the Americans, dies suddenly at mile 5-and-a-half.

Much on the mind these days...the next day, Martin Lel and Paula Radcliffe win the NYC marathon, with Tour de France legend and now Olson twin dater Lance Armstrong rocking a 2:46 marathon, bettering his 06 time by 14 minutes or so, and Tom Cruise wife Katie Holmes runs her first marathon in 5:23. Certainly a circus of a marathon, with celebrities, elites, and the world's biggest city as a backdrop.

Much on the mind these days...a stellar weekend spent with family, which included a fantastic bonfire get-together at Wood Frog's Wittman lily pad, with all kinds and all ages. I enjoyed the time with friends and family there, and the rest of the weekend with not much of an agenda, but a lot of good time with the girls.

Much on the mind these days...a question of balance and discipline to make time for things to happen. Haven't run in a week, since Tuckahoe, am entering a planning, creative, forward-looking, forward-thinking time at work right now; Girl Scouts and gymnastics for the girls; freelance writing jobs; Historical Society board; keeping up with everyone and everything. Wished-for abundance, but tough to keep pace at times.

Much on the mind these days...thankful. Brought home by the simplicity of one foot in front of the other, either in quiet or with tunes. But brought home also by Charles Schulz and tracking down a copy of Charlie Brown's Thanksgiving, and Linus' great thoughts on Thanksgiving and the fact that America is the first country to have made a national holiday to give thanks.

Much on the mind these days...but I am going to stop on thanks. And abundance. And family. And work. And running in the woods. Like a kid.

The Fence

Team Bay Hundred with Johnny U. at the Baltimore Marathon Expo, Ravens Stadium. Wood Frog fancies himself a QB...

How is it we are supposed to figure out what qualifies as the small stuff that we are not supposed to sweat? This past week, I couldn't get my health back where I wanted it to get running. Then the President of the United States decides to make an announcement at the Museum where I work, so there is a two-step backburners running for the week (at least half of the two-step was a cool excuse, though!).

Finally got a 5.5 - 6-mile run in Sunday morning, so it was nice to re-break the ice. Still can't shake the cough, but I'll take progress at this point. Post-marathon, the rational/sane brain says coast it out til the end of the year, enjoy a Backyard Burn 10-mile trail race, and settle in to 5 - 15-mile winter runs. And that sounds great. Yet there is the part of me that signs up for a race, and despite health and poor training, says it's still on the books, so get the miles in, and get ready for JFK. That would mean a couple more long runs; practice with the Succeed caps; practice the walk-run combo; work to cross JFK off the to-do list. A 5-hour marathon could translate to a 12-hour JFK, which is the time limit requirement.

It's way too easy to over think. In the meantime, I just have to run. And SLEEP (tough for me). And eat right. And train the brain. Sounds simple, but each of those steps poses it's own challenges for me right now. What I really want to do in the running department, is get back on the trails.

Bay Hundred Bruisers: Baltimore Marathon Report

Four Bay Hundred Baltimorons: Mike "Tucks" Valliant, Mike "Wood Frog" Keene, Jim "Postmaster" Richardson, Pierre "Gel-in-his-hat" Bernasse, post-race, Oriole Park at Camden Yards for backdrop.

One week ago, I finished a 10-mile run, out of breath from having been sick, and was sure I couldn't have run a marathon. After one more 4-mile run during the week, I went to Baltimore on Saturday with the goal of simply finishing the marathon. I accomplished that goal. The better story is the camaraderie and accomplishment, that our group of Bay Hundred banditos came away from Baltimore with. The short story version is:

Mike Keene - 3:52:00
Pierre Bernasse - 4:17:04
Jim Richardson - 4:35:21
Mike Valliant - 4:40:18

Jim Richardson earned two significant awards: 1) best time vs. goal (he guessed about 5 hours, first official marathon), and 2) coolest bib number: #2345.

Pierre ran his second, and hilliest, marathon to date, and set a PR on a tough course.

Keene went up with the hope of breaking the 4 hour barrier. He signed up at the expo with a 3:50 pace group, and straight took care of business. Baltimore is not an easy course to set a tough time goal against. Mike went out hard and kept it going.

As for me, I feel good when I complete a marathon. I am thrilled for where I ended up Saturday vs. a week ago. And it made the race and the day to be there and have all four of us finish. A moment like that, shared, is sublime.

By way of a race report, the Baltimore Marathon was, for me, a tale of two races. There is the 18-mile race, that I ran well for--walking only at aid stations to get water or Gatorade. I ran with or ahead of the 4:15 pace group for the first 17 miles of the race. My splits for the race were (clock time, not chip time, which was about 1 minute, 15 seconds faster): 59:34 at mile 6; 1:36 at mile 10; 2:06 at half-marathon; 3:09 at mile 19; 3:36 at mile 21.

Then there was the 8.2-mile race, after the 18-mile one, that I limped through. At the half-way point, I was feeling good and on pace for a 4:10 finish. Everyone who runs Baltimore is well aware that the race begins at mile 16, after you have gone through Fells Point, and then turn uphill for miles 16 - 23. It is only truly "all downhill" when you hit the 25-mile mark.

For my compadres: I was able to catch a glimpse of Mike K. at an aid station outside Fort McHenry at mile 10, as I had just passed mile 9. Pierre came up behind me between miles 14 and 15, looking fresh, we chatted a bit, and then he trotted ahead, looking like 4 hours might be in the making. I looked up and saw Jim as I was grabbing Gatorade at the mile 17 stop. We ran together for a good part of miles 18 and 19, he went ahead, then I started catching up to him after we rounded the lake at mile 21, only to have to let him go.

Two years ago, when I was well trained, I hit the half-way mark in 1:55 and was crushed by/at mile 15, for various reasons. This year, I past the mid-mark slower, but held pace until almost mile 19. Much better in that respect. Also on the positives I should note that I really didn't have muscle cramping like I can get. I tried to drink more, and took one Succeed S-Cap every hour or so. Two other notable occurrences: 1) I picked up speed consistently on the last mile, running at a good clip through Camden Yards, and then finishing the race down the chute at a full sprint, whipping by baffled runners over the last 100 yards, and 2) I finished 3 minutes or so faster than the last time I ran Baltimore.

I have yet to run a complete race in a marathon or longer race. This year, inconsistent training, then bronchial sickness, made me work for my finish. The last two races (Holiday Lake 50K and Delaware), debilitating leg cramps stopped me to a hobble, until I could push through them, but where I had good paces going through 17 miles in the 50K and 20 miles in the marathon. And my first shot at Baltimore was a similar story to this year.

I feel like I have been in shape to run a sub-4-hour marathon, though not on Saturday. I do feel like I have unfinished business--food on the table--with the distance. But that business will go unfinished, the food will go cold, for a while. Maintaining a balance with family, work, house, etc., is too much right now with long race training. The 2008 race calendar, for me, will peak at 13.1 miles, with a goodly number of 10s thrown in for good measure.

Race times aside, Saturday was the best race experience I have had--where everyone felt such a sense of accomplishment; so much a part of a community who have done something remarkable in its own right.

A Woody Sighting

Wood Frog explains the quirkiness of a a draketail workboat to our boy Woody, the AT thru-hiker, who made a detour to Bay Hundred.

Returning readers may recall that Wood Frog and I encountered a southbound Appalachian Trail thru-hiker on Crawford Path during our White Mountain adventures. Attentive returning readers may further recall that said thru-hiker, James "Woody" Woodring, had grandparents who lived in St. Michaels; had a deep-routed interest in sailing and wooden boat building; and anticipated a stop-off in Maryland.

This week, we got a call from Woody as he was making his way from Annapolis to St. Michaels. After a tour of the Chesapeake Bay Maritime Museum (aka my place of employment), a meeting with our Boat Yard Manager Richard Scofield, a tour of Higgins Boat Yard and log canoes from Mike Keene, a sandwich from Lighty's, a tour of the Keene boat shop in Wittman, a quick boat ride aboard the draketail workboat Dora, and a feast of a dinner at the Keene residence, our pal Woody is picking back up where he left off in Harpers Ferry. He anticipates finishing the AT in December, and who knows, we might see him back in St. Michaels again after. Great to catch up and hear about his adventures in thru-hiking. If you are curious to follow along at home, you can check in at Woody's online journal.

In other news, the Baltimore Marathon is tomorrow morning, with kindly running weather in the forecast. Pierre Bernasse, Jim Richardson, Mike Keene, and I went up for the expo and packet pick-up this morning. I have no idea what tomorrow holds--hopefully something good! And to all, a good night.

Trials and Tribulations

"A child said What is the grass? fetching it to me with full hands;
How could I answer the child? I do not know what it is any more than he."
--Walt Whitman, Leaves of Grass

I have come to realize that breathing is an important part of running. Funny how that works. So when I get saddled with a bronchial infection that keeps me from taking deep breaths and sidelines me for almost two weeks leading up to a marathon, I shouldn't have expected much good from my first run back.

The training schedule called for a 10-mile run a week out from the race (never mind that I missed a 15, 8, many others). So my hope was to run it fairly easy in 90 minutes for 9-minute miles.

I got out the door at about 3:20pm or so and ran to Baileys Neck (on Oxford Road) and back. My legs felt fine and went out at their normal pace, trying to keep it slow to assess where I was after such a long layoff. I hit my 2-mile mark faster than normal, and ended up hitting the halfway point on pace in 44:10. The problem: things were going downhill fast.

My legs always felt great. But I had NO breath. My doctor mentioned this as what would happen, and I had the same experience playing old-time baseball last week. I couldn't get a full breath anywhere and was literally running out of breath. I walked for 5 minutes after the turnaround, then ran until Waverly Road, walked for a couple minutes, then ran from the "downhill" to the other side of five-corners light, walked until Rails-to-Trails, ran to Brookletts Avenue, walked to Dover Road, then ran the rest of the way home. My time in the end was 1:39:44, so just shy of 10-minute miles, with a combined 12-15 minutes of walking counting towards that total. Frustrating is not the word for having your legs work fine, but your lungs not able to keep up.

So I'm in a bit of a dilemma. If the marathon were yesterday, I wouldn't have been able to finish, at least not likely. My thoughts of a PR are long past last call. And I am back to the point of wondering whether lungs and body are in shape to even finish this Saturday. In February, I was probably in my top endurance shape, certainly 4-hour marathon or better, and pushed through the hilly Holiday Lake 50K trails.

A lackluster training regimen and ill-timed bronchial infection later, it's reckoning time with running and health trials and tribulations. I am giving myself a few days and couple more runs to see where I am for the weekend. I'll let you know.