“Excellence is an art won by training and habituation. We do not act rightly because we have virtue or excellence, but we rather have those because we have acted rightly. We are what we repeatedly do. Excellence, then, is not an act but a habit.” - Aristotle
“Promise me you'll always remember: You are braver than you believe, stronger
than you seem, and smarter than you think.” Christopher Robin to Pooh
~ A.A. Milne
As the Boston Marathon quickly approaches there's the annual hullabaloo among runners surrounding all things Boston - in real time and on the interwebs - Boston chatter will be reaching a fevered pitch. I remember watching, witnessing, running friends prepare for Boston 2011 and then vicariously joining them, longingly, on their journey to Beantown. And then a sudden feeling, an impulse, hit me square between the eyes - I want to do that - but I'm not good enough - am I???
That thought planted a seed, started something that was both good and bad, exciting and terrifying, and I secretly set out to do it. Or, I would secretly find out I couldn't do it - but that would remain my little secret and, perhaps, my little shame if I failed...
Reflecting on this, I've changed my feelings on all that...and at the same time I haven't.
Then the other day a friend was feeling down in the dumps. Watching the build up to Boston, watching friends train and plan, she said: 'It's in my face all day, every day...I'm not good enough. :( " I know this feeling. I've been there.
And the fact is that there are always some goals we will reach and other we will fall short of. That's the risk of trying, of reaching, of dreaming. But it's the reaching that matters. It's the effort that matters. It's the life, the energy. We LIVE in the pursuit of what is best in ourselves.
And the fact is that I am still in the exact place where my friend finds herself - I still have many many other goals. Those may never be reached, but they keep me excited about trying and sometimes they take me pretty dang far even if I don't get there - or they lead me down a new road I had not seen or been aware of before.
But the real issue here is: What's the alternative? We can all set our sights nice and safe and low, and achieve them all, pat ourselves on the back for achieving things that really didn't demand much from ourselves and never know what we could really do (This does allow us to lie to ourselves - "Oh I could do that if I tried." or "I could do that if I wanted to." Baaaa). Or - or - we can go for the wildly outrageous, crazy, pie-in-the-sky goals that get our spines tingling. On the other side of the hullabaloo equation, there is the regrettable response, or backlash, to all that is Boston - a reaction (and reaction is always dictated by something outside of yourself - it's not creative - it offers nothing new) instead of an action. Instead of aiming high and perhaps failing, they dismiss the whole enterprise: Who cares about that stupid, over-hyped, elitist race? Who needs Boston?
Well, who needs any of it?? - Who needs marathons, or 10ks, or 5k, or that jog around the block without stopping for the first time? Who needs any of it? Why waste your life reaching for things you may never get?
Why? Because, as Socrates put it so well back in 399 BCE, "Not life, but good life, is to be chiefly valued."
I am reaching for new goals, and I may not achieve them, but it would really be a shame, for my life, if I did not try. If I don't succeed I will not be ashamed. In the trying I am doing. In not trying I am doing nothing. That is not the life for me.
“To dare is to lose one's footing momentarily. Not to dare is to lose oneself.” ~ Soren Kierkegaard
“Don't you know that a midnight hour comes when everyone has to take off
his mask? Do you think life always lets itself be trifled with? Do you
think you can sneak off a little before midnight to escape this?”
~ Soren Kierkegaard
My love of Soren Kierkegaard's writing sucked me into philosophy many years ago. I was at that age where all in life felt possible, open, exciting and a little ponderous despair from time to time felt good and deep and honest and admirable and authentic. And even today, in my moments of fear and trembling, I still turn to him to grasp and accept the human condition that we all share but which we would rather avoid, ignore, push aside, bury away. But sometimes, our best efforts are no match for life. And then you notice something essentially important that has gone not quite right. Maybe you just catch a glimpse of it out of the corner of your mind - maybe you're not even sure what it it - but it burns into you - you can't shake the awareness you've worked so hard to hide from...
“The greatest hazard of all, losing one’s self, can occur very quietly
in the world, as if it were nothing at all. No other loss can occur so
quietly; any other loss - an arm, a leg, five dollars, a wife, etc. - is
sure to be noticed.”
~ Soren Kierkegaard
You realize that you have become that (mythical?) frog, sitting, seemingly contented, in a pot of water as the temperature gradually goes higher and higher unaware that things have gone horribly wrong but it has happened so slowly that you hardly notice.
“The most painful state of being is remembering the future, particularly the one you'll never have.” ~ Soren Kierkegaard
A leap of faith is what we take when we sign up for that first race, venture out on a run that is farther than we've ever run before...call ourselves a "runner" for the first time. The leap of faith is when we stand, poised to make a move, entirely unsure that there is anything we can trust in, but believing that it will be okay. And even if it is not okay, it's worth the risk. And as we pick up our foot and move our balance forward, as running is always falling and catching ourselves...falling and catching ourselves...and with each step that choice to act is irrevocable: it can not be undone. That is commitment: The step forward, The shift out of balance, where the action is done and we do not know if we will hit something solid when the next foot comes down.
What Kierkegaard means by the "leap of faith", so well illustrated in the clip above, is that there comes a time when we must commit (if we truly want to live), when our life depends on that commitment, even when every shred of reason and rationality screams "NO!!" vibrating inside your skull. In fact the "Leap of Faith" happens ONLY when it is taken on the basis of faith with no reasonable support - risking all you have to risk. We often look for comfort, support, justification - we want someone to back us up, tell us we're not crazy, that everything is going to be okay. But all those reassurances are false security.Don't fool yourself. The leap requires courage and faith only.
“To venture causes anxiety, but not to venture is to lose one's self....
And to venture in the highest is precisely to be conscious of one's
self.”
~ Soren Kierkegaard
This is not comfortable or pleasant. And I think runners are just good-crazy enough to understand, and occasionally embrace and welcome the leap.
I'm falling forward. I don't yet know if there is anything there to catch me, to stop me from falling into the abyss...
Throw caution to the wind. Tell that reasoning, rational, safe mind to shut up. Take a chance. Act on a feeling. Commit to that race...that run. Dare to be great. Doing so makes it so.
“It is very important in life to know when your cue comes.”
~ Soren Kierkegaard
"Life isn't about finding yourself. Life is about creating yourself" ~ George Bernard Shaw
"What, if some day or
night a demon were to steal after you into your loneliest
loneliness and say to you: "This life as you now live it and have
lived it, you will have to live once more and innumerable times
more; and there will be nothing new in it, but every pain and every
joy and every thought and sigh and everything unutterably small or
great in your life will have to return to you, all in the same
succession and sequence - even this spider and this moonlight
between the trees, and even this moment and I myself. The eternal
hourglass of existence is turned upside down again and again, and
you with it, speck of dust!"
Would you not throw yourself down and gnash your teeth and curse
the demon who spoke thus?... Or how well disposed would you have to
become to yourself and to life to crave nothing more
fervently than this ultimate eternal confirmation and
seal?" The Gay Science ~ Fredrick Nietzsche'
This is a "what if". A conditional. In philosophy, it's called a "thought experiment", and it's meant to tweak certain intuitions - to press certain issues - to challenge the way we may see things. Thought experiments are often frustrating, because we're not allowed to change them to suit our purposes. We aren't allow to change the conditions so that the problem magically disappears. This makes us uncomfortable. But then in life, can we just make our problems disappear?...
Now you can say to dear Mr. Nietzsche, there's no way life can be all good - that I would want to live every moment over and over, for all eternity - but how about the whole of your life?? That's what he's getting at. When you are about to take your last breathe, have you lived well?
So I reworked this idea to, perhaps, make it more manageable:
Think about the last 365 days. What do you
remember? What will you remember 365 days from today? How about today?
Will you remember today? How about tomorrow?
I
purposely say this as the "last 365 days" because perhaps we should be
asking ourselves this each day of the year, not just on January 1st,
and then after some weeks pass, dismiss the thought altogether, until the next
January 1st.
This thought occurred to me as I realized that I just
passed the one year anniversary of a fairly serious and scary
concussion, that left me pretty messed up for several months...and
moderately messed up for several more. But thinking back on this year, even with the bad parts, these past 365 days have been an amazing adventure, much of it rooted in running and the challenges and gifts running presents to me - IF I grab them. And this year I did grab them I said "Oh what the hell, I might as well..." a whole lot more than I have for the past several years. I played it a little less safe, even though there is no safety net waiting to catch me if I fall, and sometimes it's terrifying. But in the end I feel like I actually did live, at least a little.
We all know, even if we don't consciously acknowledge it, that time passes, and days pass, and years pass, and then we find ourselves on the other side. But where have we been? Where have we gone? What have WE done? What has simply happened to us? It's so easy to get caught up in the daily challenge of just getting through it. We take a deep breath and push on. We survive. And then we do it all over again...and again...and again. And then ten years later? What? In Letter from Birmingham Jail, Martin Luther King Jr. touches on the issue of time and change, and while his focus is on social/moral change, what he says applies to each of our lives as well. He correctly points out that there is a:
"...strangely irrational notion that there is something in the very flow of time that will inevitably cure all ills. Actually, time itself is neutral; it can be used either destructively or constructively...Human progress never rolls in on wheels on inevitability; it comes through tireless effort..." MLK, Jr. Letter from Birmingham Jail
The idea that TIME itself changes anything is bogus, passive, reactionary - and I believe, ultimately, pessimistic. It's action IN TIME that creates a life as opposed to just letting time pass and allowing life to happen to me. Most of us (perhaps my assumptions are incorrect on this), okay sometimes I, allow life to happen and I ride it like a wave. The wave takes me where it will. I get to shore and breathe a sigh of relief. I made it. But I'm not really living my life in those instances, I'm allowing my life to live me. I'm allowing the things around my to direct me, like a maze set out by something else. I just passively wind my way through - the way one must go. This is not how I really want to live. But it is so much easier.
I need to remind myself of this, over and over again, as I get caught between taking the safe route, staying with what I know, with what I have, or risking it all...and for what? I don't know. I go back and forth between the self talk: "Oh, things could be worse" and "You've got a pretty good deal even though you're miserable". Be reasonable...reasonable...reasonable. May the strength I've gained through running help me in other ways over the next 365 days...and beyond.
"Your Problem is how you are going to spend this one odd and precious life you have been issued. Whether you're going to spend it trying to look good and creating the illusion that you have power over people and circumstances, or whether you are going to taste it, enjoy it and find out the truth about who you are" ~ Anne Lamott
"Champions are everywhere: all you need is to train them properly..." ~ Arthur Lydiard
If I had a penny for how many times I've been asked "What's the best marathon training program to use", I'd be a very, very wealthy woman.
Many marathoners, both novice and experienced, end up doing a lot of cutting-and-pasting when it comes to marathon training. Noodling around with this workout or that workout or running what they feel like running - taking this and that from different training programs: long runs, Medium long runs, GA (general aerobic) runs, hills, tempos, AT (anaerobic threshold) runs, progression runs, MP (marathon pace runs), intervals (400/800/1200/1600???), etc. The logic goes like this: If I just take the best sounding training runs from each approach I'll have a killer program...and of course it might just kill me too. Worse of all is the tendency to stick with what you've done before, even if it didn't work (remember that tried and true definition of insanity). Oh, but this time it will be different! Or, having new goals and doing exactly what you've done in the past, which may have worked in the past but will doing the same thing work again, now with new goals. If a plan worked, I'll just do it again but I'll run everything faster. Brilliant!
"Noodling:
A form of fishing in which a crazy person runs
into a lake and searches for holes on the bottom with his foot. Then he
inserts his finger into the hole and lets something bite it. Hopefully,
it's a catfish. If so, he wrestles the catfish to the surface and drags
it to shore. If its not a catfish, he may lose his finger to a snapping
turtle or his life to a water moccasin." (Urban Dictionary)
You, taking charge of the situation. Yo!
Now there's many other definitions for "Noodling" (most of them sexual -
as in bad sex - in nature) but what the above definition points to is
the somewhat crazed, ad hoc, haphazard, risky, willy-nilly nature
of noodling around with training programs. I don't care that this is
not an approved use of the word (Hello, OED, take notice - new use in
the lexicon ;)
I've even had runners contact me and ask me to look at their training and their program. I look at what they're doing and make suggestions. The response is often: "So I should just add some miles on to the plan I'm using???" Oh dear!!! That is NOT how it works. That's noodling - here you tweak the plan without taking all the variables into account. You can't just take a given plan and add miles to it and call it a "better" plan. There are certain principles in training - stress and rest, super-compensation, different length cycles, cycles within cycles, etc. - all aimed at maximizing your body's response and making it stronger, faster, better at running. Adding to one component just gets that all out of whack - or it may anyway.
But, the fact is that sticking with a set program for 24, 18, 16, 12...whatever number of weeks, is always a challenge. Schedule conflicts, weather, injuries, illness, etc. seem to throw wrenches into the whole system just as things start clicking. So when things start to go all pear-shaped, what's a runner to do?
Often times it's not necessarily discipline that is the limiting factor. Most runners I know are fairly strong on the discipline side - and this can sometime cause problems itself, such as overtraining and injuries as we pigheadedly feel compelled to complete a run even when injured or exhausted because...HELLO!!! IT'S WRITTEN ON THE SCHEDULE!!. The issue is how do I adjust to these blips along the way?
A couple years ago I was following Pete Pfitzinger's plan in Advanced Marathoning. This plan is fairly demanding, with lots of fairly long runs during the week. Pfitzinger's attitude (and this he clearly states in the book) is that you really have to suck it up and commit to the program and work your life around your training, not work your training around your life. Okay. Fair enough. Commitment is important, but so is paying the mortgage and being there (at least occasionally) for your kid(s), and perhaps even your partner.
So, everything was ticking along and then I hit the proverbial training wall. I was lying in bed one night, facing a 12 mile run in the cold and snow during the 2 hour window I had from 9-11 while my daughter was in pre-school. I'd been doing this for several weeks at that point and now something snapped. I said to my husband, I just can't do this. I'm completely wiped out. Training, parenting, working...I hit my limit. And I gave up.
I slipped back to my tried and true approach, which I knew I could do, and I knew it would result in the same ho-hum results it had in the past. But what else could I do? At that time I didn't know how to fix the plan so that it could work for me. And so I threw out the baby with the bathwater.
Today I have a little more understanding and appreciation for how this all works. As a USATF, RRCA, and Lydiard Foundation Certified Running Coach I have more resources available to me. I read training books before bed for the fun of it. I can see all the mistakes I've made in the past. I understand that I will, no doubt, continue to make mistakes, because the fact is, this is all difficult business. If there was ONE way that ALWAYS worked for everyone, then we'd ALL be DOING IT! But alas. Life and running are not so simple. And if they were it would be boring.
So, out of a twisted curiosity, I decided to make myself a guinea pig of sorts and a couple months ago I embarked on my marathon training experiment: I decided to test the Lydiard Foundation's Running Wizard Training Program on myself.
A Lydiard based training program is based on five basic principles:
1) Aerobic Conditioning as the Foundation
2) Response-Regulated Adaptation
3) Feeling-Based Training
4) Sequential Development
5) Peaking/Timing
So how does all this work within a set, pre-planned, program? Well it works and it doesn't work - and this is the problem with all pre-set programs, though this program is, in my experience, far superior to other 'cookie-cutter' type programs because it provides multiple feedback mechanisms. Importantly, Lydiard based programs ALWAYS build on where you are presently at, what you've done in the past, and where you want to go, and helps in establishing realistic short and long term goals.
A couple weeks ago I finished with my "aerobic base" sequence and I felt super strong. Now I was set to begin my "Hill" sequence. Only one problem. I was dealing with an injury, and I am convinced that this was not caused by my running. One of the things I have to remind myself (and those I coach) is to be very careful about adding new stresses when you are already pushing things. I am not always good about listening to myself - and since I was feeling like gang-busters, I started pushing too many things at once - too much swimming, too much core work, too much stuff!! And I snapped. I felt this snap in an instant. I felt the straw that "broke" my back (in my case, my SI joint) as I placed it there. Butt-head, butt-head, butt-head...
So I put off the hill work for a week. THIS is Response-Regulated Training, as much as adjusting paces might be response-regulated training. I did not add insult to injury and stick with the workouts I was "supposed" to do.
This is the most difficult part about working with a set plan. Gaaaaaaaaaaa. My experiment is already messed up! And yet is it? Rarely do any of us make it from beginning to end of a training sequence without dealing with some major hiccups. So I guess now the challenge and experiment means seeing how it works even when everything doesn't work perfectly. I feel so strong coming out of my first sequence, and I am committed to this experiment. I won't throw the baby out with the bathwater this time.
"There's no shortcut to the top..." ~ Arthur Lydiard
This story begins in May, 2012, when I attended an RRCA Coaching Certification Clinic in Denver. Now, there's lots and lots of running big-wigs residing along Colorado's front range, and I was lucky enough to be in class for 3 days with Lorraine Moller who was attending as a sort of expert in residence. Lorraine, originally from New Zealand, is a former runner with Aurthur Lydiard, Olympic Marathon bronze medalist in Barcelona (she ran in the first four women's Olympic marathons) and head of the Lydiard Foundation.
In class situations I'm pretty outspoken. I'm a college instructor, so I'm very comfortable debating and discussing contentious issues and theories. So there was a lot of debate going on during the class, and I found myself even questioning and challenging some of Lorraine's claims and assertions. But often I am more comfortable talking in groups than one on one. At the close of the course, I worked up the nerve to shyly introduce myself to Lorraine.
A month later I received an email from Lorraine inviting me to attend a Lydiard L1 & 2 Coach Certification Course being held in Boulder. I jumped at the chance to accept this fairly exclusive invitation.
And so began my relationship with Lorraine Moller and Aurthur Lydiard. I always found myself gravitating toward a Lydiard based system, but it wasn't really based on a solid grounding of what that meant except as it is often filtered through other coaches and the systems they develop, often incorporating aspect of Lydiard's principles. After taking the course and the exam, I realized that things are a lot more complicated than we often believe...and I still had a lot to (a lot I wanted/want to) learn about all of this.
After the New York City Marathon was cancelled, I floundered a bit. I had trained and tapered to race on November 4th. The soonest I could schedule a replacement marathon was December 9th in Tucson. Lorraine scheduled a get together for local Lydiard coaches about 3 weeks before I was to run Tucson. It was on a Friday, and I had every intention of doing a last 23 mile training run the next morning. I hadn't run a "long" run since pacing in Chicago in early October, so I felt I needed just one more before Tucson. I bounced this idea off of Lorraine.
Her response, "No. I don't want you running any more than 2 1/2 hours."
I gasped. I panicked. Dang it, dang it, dang it. Why did I ask her. I knew what she would say...hmmmm. Yes, I did know what she would say...But...What had I just done??? "But...but" I stammered "I haven't run anything over 16 miles in 6 weeks. I have to..."
She smiled, gently, knowingly, and said again "No more then 2 1/2 hours".
"But...", feeling a little desperate, grasping for some hope, "...I may run it fast, right??".
Again, her smile, "Nope. I want you to run a smell-the-roses pace." she replied in a bit of a sing-song tone.
Arggg. I pleaded, I groveled a bit, I bargained...to no avail. I really had no leg to stand on and I knew it.
The next day I ran a slightly too fast 17.3 miles in 2:34 - about as close as I could get to what I'd been asked to do. And then another taper began.
And when I lined up at the start in Tucson, I had not run anything over 17 miles since Oct 6th in Chicago. I thought this would be a problem, mentally, for me. But as the gun went off and we made our way down Mt. Lemmon and through the desert, that thought never entered my mind.
And I have never felt so good, so strong, so solid, so in charge, while running a marathon. By mile 20 I felt shockingly good, and my last 6 miles were the fastest I've ever run during a marathon.
I was sold...But still, I have a skeptical nature...So I need more.
After that, I told Lorraine that I wanted to make myself a guinea pig of sorts, and use the Running Wizard program for my Boston training. Running Wizard is the fairly personalized running program offered through the Lydiard Foundation for anyone racing distances from 1500 meters through marathons. Now, this is tough for me, because as a coach myself, I have a hard time buying into any sort of "cookie-cutter" plan. But I wanted to do it mostly to learn more about the principles (first hand and applied to myself) involved with a purely Lydiard based program. And so, after an insufficient downtime following Tucson, I embarked on my Running Wizard program.
Next, I will tell my story of the first phase of training...
"To know what is right and not do it is the worst cowardice." ~Confucius
These are the stated goals, the professed vision, of the New York Road Runners:
"We
are driven by a singular vision. We believe that we can change the
world through running. This is the dream and the promise that drives us.
Running is our favorite sport but it's more than just that. It's also a
route to bettering lives, building community, fueling positive social
change—and enabling folks to have a whole lot of fun. Since our earliest
days, our vision has allowed us to continuously move forward and to
challenge the status quo so that we can grow as individuals, as a team,
and as an organization."
Several weeks ago, after more than 7 weeks of deliberation and working through the details and options with their insurers, the New York Road Runners/ New York City Marathon announced their resolution to the issues surrounding the cancellation of the 2012 marathon.
Those who registered for and did not take the deferment option prior to the cancellation of the race, will now have a window of opportunity to choose one of the options below:
MARATHON RUNNERS
2012 Marathoners may choose one of the following options:
Option #1 – Refund. While NYRR has always had a
no-refund policy for the Marathon, given these extraordinary
circumstances, we are offering runners who were entered in the 2012
Marathon, and were unable to run due to the cancellation 1, the opportunity to obtain a full refund of their 2012 Marathon entry fee (excluding the $11 processing fee); OR
Option #2 – Guaranteed entry to the ING New York City Marathon for 2013, 2014, or 2015.
Entrants in the 2012 Marathon who choose this option will be granted
guaranteed entry to the Marathon for the year they choose. Runners will
be required to pay all processing and entry fees at the time of
application (in the given year), with fees maintained at the same rate
as those paid in 2012; OR
Option #3 – Guaranteed entry to the NYC Half 2013.
Entrants in the 2012 Marathon who choose this option will be granted
guaranteed entry to the NYC Half 2013, to be run on March 17, 2013.
Runners will be required to pay all processing and entry fees at the
time of application. Availability will be limited.
My immediate response was critical - Yes, the refund option is obviously the right thing, but doing something half right does not make the whole deal a good one. Option 2 falls woefully short of what is fair and right. When I express my disappointment and disgust, many people respond: "What did you expect? Did you really expect that they wouldn't charge you again?" Well, as a matter of fact, yes! Many people claim that this is a fair and gracious offer. I beg to differ...
Here's why:
Michael Bloomberg and Mary Wittenberg invited us to their city to run. Had the marathon been canceled in a timely fashion, I might be more sympathetic. They got our travel dollars (airport taxes, hotel fees and taxes, rental car fees and taxes, food, etc...). I know...First World Problem...but I refuse to give them $11 + $255 + ANOTHER $255 for 2013.
I know people believe runners are rich, so this whole fiasco amounts to little more than a "first world problem" which when compared to the problems faced by many in this world is absolutely true. But I saved and planned for this race (and I was raising money to support the education of girls in Liberia and Pakistan), and I know and have heard from countless others who planned for years for this trip to run NYC, some coming from much farther away then I came. I haven't taken a vacation in 2+ years. I'm a college instructor and running coach. My husband is a college instructor and climbing coach. I made this investment because (as I've explained in other posts) I've wanted to run NYC since I was 16 years old. NYC is WHY I started racing again 4 years ago.
So there is the cost factor, but that is not what bugs me the most. What bug me the most is that agreements (a type of social contract) have been broken and violated.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
So here's what I wish I could say to Mary Wittenberg:
Dear Ms. Wittenberg,
For some runners promises were made and those promises were broken. I ran a qualifying time to get into NY through the "guaranteed entry" option. This was not easy for me, and I dedicated the fall of 2011 to achieve this goal. But my guaranteed entry has never actually been honored, and for that reason I believe that the NYCM/NYRR has failed to hold up its end of the bargain. What about those who got in via the now discontinued policy, of applying 3 times in a row - if you don't get in during those 3 years you automatically get in on the 4th. Their guaranteed entry has also not been honored. Or those who did the 9+ program, running 9 NYRR races over the year and volunteering for 1. Those have not been honored either. We kept OUR part of the bargain, but the NYRR seems to have no problem ignoring your part in the agreement.
So what will I do? I will take the refund. I will not pay for a guaranteed entry that I already EARNED! I will not pay again for a race that was cancelled too late, under suspicious circumstances..
All those who traveled to NYC came in the spirit of support for NY and NJ. We were invited by the city and by you. In fact, had we deferred we would have been required to pay again for the chance to run. But we didn't defer. I came to run with my friends from NJ. They had no power. They had no gas. They lived in a disaster area, but they were still going to run. How could I not support them??
What will I do? Perhaps I will try to qualify again. What does that mean for me, well I'll need to run a 3:35 full marathon or a 1:40 half marathon. It will also mean that, other challenges I might wish to move on to will be postponed a bit. And I'm not sure I'm willing to make that sacrifice. I see no other way for me to do this. The easy way is to just cough up another $255. But that is not the right way. Perhaps there is no longer a 'right way'.
Unfortunately, this whole episode, and how you have chosen to handle this situation, has still left a very sour taste in my mouth about the NYCM. The decisions you made, I believe, are antithetical to the original aim of this race, and the vision of Fred Lebow. But it seems that the NYRR, and you, have lost the vision, and have become just another American capitalist enterprise.
I believe, that for many of us the NYCM will never regain it's stature as the greatest marathon in the world (thanks to this 'resolution'), as the peoples' marathon and the city's marathon. Perhaps you don't care. Perhaps you believe that this will all fade from memory. Perhaps, sadly, you are correct. But for this one runner, this one individual, the girl who stood in Central Park and watched with tears in her eyes and chills in her spine as Grete Waitz flashed by, you have shattered something that can not be repaired. What a shame. What a terrible, terrible shame.
Sincerely,
Caolan MacMahon
Character is much easier kept than recovered. ~ Thomas Paine
"Nothing can bring you peace but yourself" ~ Ralph Waldo Emerson
So, I'm a bit behind the Resolution curve in the blogosphere, but I've been away, chewing on things...ruminating...fermenting...And as it turns out, finding some true resolution (shall I say 'healing') in New Jersey following the NYCM/Hurricane Sandy episode.
2012 was a year of some pretty extreme ups and downs, and I suppose I enjoy a roller coaster ride, but unlike on a roller coaster, where you can see what's coming and where it's going, life is not so apparent.
Some stats on 2013: bear with me here...I'm doing this mostly for my own purpose: that of remembering.
Miles: In 2012 I ran around 2,493 miles. I say "around" because I always round down on my logging. If, for instance, my Garmin says I ran '5.15', I will log '5'. Only when it hits 5.2 do I log 5.2. Sometimes I run a little extra to tack on the extra .5 or .2, or whatever is necessary to reach that threshold and sometimes I don't.
Marathons: I ran six marathons in 2012. This was a bit of a fluke, and completely unplanned, but it worked for me. As I've said in the past I tend to favor quality over quantity, but at the end of it all I managed to pull off at least one decent effort (Tucson) and one mediocre effort (Fox Valley) - both of which turned out to be major learning experiences for different reason in my continuing education as a marathoner. Along the way I also became a Marathon Maniac, and managed salvaging a very disappointing and difficult late winter/spring. I learned a whole hell of a lot this year, and the learning did not come easy and was not always welcomed.
Shoes: I have absolutely no idea how many shoes I've run through this year. I want to estimate about 12-15, but that is because I had shoe/foot issues (still have, but they are being managed) throughout the year that caused me to experiment, a lot. The guys at Road Runner Sports hide when they see me walk through the door. Thank goodness for their return policy, though I have expected to see a "Wanted: For Return Policy Abuse" poster with my mug on it.
Races:13 (14, unofficial). Some I raced, some were training runs, all of them taught me something I needed to learn.
Injuries: 3. I began the year (really started on Thanksgiving 2011) with Posterior Tibial Tendinitis/Tarsal Tunnel Syndrome, and enjoyed very painful, weekly needling sessions (in the soles of my feet) to get me to the starting line of Boston (Thank you, Heather North, at In Motion Rehab).
In February I suffered a concussion which, while not a 'running' injury, proved to be the scariest and most challenging injury I've had to deal with. This hit me right smack during peak Boston training, and I really did not feel that I was myself again until probably October or November. Now the constant threat of getting hit in the head again, and it's possible dire consequences (instant death, even for a seemingly harmless hit) keeps me ever aware of my surroundings in ways I've never had to be before. If I think about it, it scares me. So I try not to think about it.
Nebulous foot pain/numbness. This has and has not been resolved. It hit me hard at Brookings and Fox Valley, both around miles 15-16 and made for excruciating finishes. Sometimes it hits me and sometimes it doesn't. Still working to resolve that one...
Friends: The absolute highlight of my year has been the new and dear friends I've made thanks to running and the prudent use of the interwebs. I've had the opportunity to travel and run with new friends all over the country. They have come out to support me (BQ Number Two: With A Little Help From My Friends) and I have come out to support them (http://www.chronicrunner.com/2012/10/the-threads-that-weave-through-life.html). This year allowed me to connect, intimately, with a much bigger and broader running community.
So that's where I've been...Now where shall I go...
The whole New York City Marathon fiasco initially cast a bit of a pall over the year for me. NYC meant more to me than any other marathon because of my history with that race, and the experience in NY/NJ was devastating. I know I tend to go overboard, emotionally, at times, and perhaps this was one of those times, but I was, honestly, crushed but that experience. I know it's just a stupid marathon, but for me it symbolized much more.
A few weeks ago the NYRR/NYCM announced their "resolution" (much more on that in my next post) which, in my view, falls far short of what is right and fair. In so doing, they presented me with my challenge, my resolution if you will, for this year (perhaps next, depending on how things go).
But first a few thoughts about a recent trip back to New Jersey.
I didn't return to New Jersey on December 28th looking for healing or closure, or any such silliness. I went to see my family, and quite honestly, I was not at all happy to go. In some important ways my experience in November, in a place I once called home, left more than a bad taste in my mouth. I really wanted nothing to do with that place any more. I was done with it. Period. Good riddance. But I got on the plane and set off to do my duty.
And this is where running and friends make all the difference, for me...
I had the opportunity to hangout with my friend Esther, to swim and run a race in her town, and with her running club, the North Jersey Masters (they even let me run as a member for the day as part of a competition they have with another running club - We won ;) At that race I got to meet other runners, fb friends, people I had met in May at another race in NJ, and I felt at home. I felt that I was among my people...runners. Something happened while I was running that race. My bitterness over NY seemed to evaporate. I accepted, again, the place from which I came.
~North Jersey Masters~
...After Athens sentences Socrates to death, he tells his students, who beg him to escape, that he must accept (though not agree with) the decisions of his city. He credits his city for making him the person he is, that he would not be 'Socrates' without Athens. As such he owes Athens something, for he would not be who he was without them...
I realized during this visit that I needed to make peace with my feeling about this place. I wanted to just put it aside, make it the past, turn my back, and never cast my eyes upon it again. But that's NOT actually what I needed.
And so, now I have my resolutions for 2013:
I want to qualify, again, for the New York City Marathon. I do still want to run this marathon, but on my own terms. I aim to surround myself, as much as possible, with the people who are uplifting, supportive, and life affirming, and to return that to others.
"Really great people make you feel that you, too, can become great" ~ Mark Twain
