For awhile now I've observed and asked other runners who is your running hero? For many of course, it's Steve Prefontaine for his guts and heart. Others have more specific heroes based on their own interests: vegan runners look up to ultra marathoner Scott Jurek, the run/walkers adore Jeff Galloway.
Mine would be Terry Fox, the young Canadian amputee who attempted to run across Canada in 1980 for cancer research. He made it two-thirds of the way before his cancer recurred and forced him to quit right outside of Thunder Bay (he died about 18 months later.) I have been to this spot, which is memorialized with a statue of him heading west towards home in Vancouver, and it's very moving. Since his death, his goal of raising twenty-two million dollars (one dollar for each Canadian) has been surpassed many times over in North America and around the world.
As you may remember in my last blog, while I enjoy getting medals, many a time I have run a race for a good cause and received nothing but a wristband and a smile, and I loved it. The charitable aspect is very important to me, and one of my goals is to do a fundraiser on a bigger scale, like walk the eighty-mile Mountain-Bay trail for a wildlife rehabilitation center or something. So I greatly admire this man for his courage and positive outlook through great personal adversity.
This also got me thinking: who are the heroes from other sports that actually got you moving in the first place? I have told the story of Gene Kelly inspiring me to get off the couch many times. (You bet dancers are athletes!) I have always had great respect for Hank Aaron, and was thrilled to get his Bobblehead at the Brewers Mini-Marathon last year.
But who, who represents you as an athlete? The underdog, the misfit, the one who may seem like a joke to some, but who is out there training and busting their butt like everyone else? Why of course! The Jamaican bobsled team.
Back in 1988, they were considered a joke. C'mon, a bobsled team from a country with no snow?!? But they had guts, and hung in there longer than was ever expected. In reality, it wasn't so unbelievable, because of the great Jamaican sprinting tradition (exactly what you need to push a bobsled.) Sadly, they had not qualified for the Winter Olympics since 2002, until yesterday. Their 47-year old driver has come out of retirement, and they are ready for the Games next month. However, they are sledding on a shoestring budget (sound familiar?) and will have work to do before they even get to Russia. You bet I will be cheering them on.
Other than being painfully slow, I know I have some assets that others admire. The biggest would be heart and endurance. Just yesterday a lady said "you got some good steam going up that hill." But the looks I get sometimes when I pass people late in a race (sometimes dirty!) or come thundering across the finish line can be fun to watch. I'm not what you expect. I'm proud of that, and I'm sure the bobsled boys are proud of themselves as well.
Sunday, January 19, 2014
Monday, January 13, 2014
A mile in different shoes
My car and I have been together for 10 years now, for thousands and thousands of miles for concerts and road races. Alas, it is wearing out, on 143,000 miles now. So almost every time I go out of town I hear the "your car is going to break down" chorus from my dad. I know he certainly has a point, but he has always specialized in paranoia. So I try to keep my out-of-town journeys to places my family is a familiar with.
So when some friends from my Zumba class asked me if I wanted to go to two snowshoe races on separate days about 70 miles away, I jumped at the chance to go along. While I am very grateful to be included, it certainly showed me a little different insight into the minds of some runners.
The lady that organized the expedition is 64, has only been running about two years, and is just naturally talented. She places most of the time, even in races of 1500. It seems, however, that is her almost her sole focus and motivation. She gets antsy during long award ceremonies.The minute she has the medal in her hand, she's ready to go home, as in grab your bag right now. She doesn't do fun runs where there aren't age groups and no medal and glory. Don't get me wrong, me and my buddies like hardware too. But we also run for enjoyment, and our own satisfaction. As I've spent more time on the circuit, I've learned myself to slow down and relax and just socialize with other runners. I did not enjoy being hustled out right after the race and not getting to talk to my buddies. This is a very nice lady, and I realize she was Captain of the ship, but time with these friends is something I don't like to give up.
But a more serious contrast of philosophy turned up on this trip, one I admit that I'm rather sensitive about. We had done two hard races on back-to-back days, and the Captain said "I don't know if I want to do that again." Maybe I was boasting a bit, but I said I've done it many times, even doing as many as three in a day, so I was used to it. And she said "yes, but we RUN the races!" she emphasized. I know for fact that the other lady that with us is also a run/walker like myself, but she is just faster than me. She also seems to share my attitude of just having fun with it and doing your best: in fact we are planning on walking (gasp, don't tell the "Captain!") a full marathon together in June. But that implication that I am less of an athlete for not running the whole thing bothers me. I know it is quietly there with some runners, but I truly think those that doing it for the love understand. I have extremely fast friends, and turtle friends like myself. \Most know that I am giving my very best effort, whether both feet are on the ground or not.
And that is what I politely told her. I know she is new to the game, and doesn't realize that you can't always run every step, and is probably not familiar with the Galloway method or John "The Penguin" Bingham." She may not know that Bill Rodgers won Boston one year with a four minute walking break, and that in the ultra-marathon game only the very elite can run every step. And that doing 30 half-marathons in 3 years, even if some were strictly walking, is an accomplishment worth being proud of.
She just recently did a 5-miler and wants to run a 10K this year. I wish her nothing but the best of luck. But I do hope she learns to run not just for the hardware, understand that others are not as gifted and will someday try a half marathon, even if she does have to walk part of it.
So when some friends from my Zumba class asked me if I wanted to go to two snowshoe races on separate days about 70 miles away, I jumped at the chance to go along. While I am very grateful to be included, it certainly showed me a little different insight into the minds of some runners.
The lady that organized the expedition is 64, has only been running about two years, and is just naturally talented. She places most of the time, even in races of 1500. It seems, however, that is her almost her sole focus and motivation. She gets antsy during long award ceremonies.The minute she has the medal in her hand, she's ready to go home, as in grab your bag right now. She doesn't do fun runs where there aren't age groups and no medal and glory. Don't get me wrong, me and my buddies like hardware too. But we also run for enjoyment, and our own satisfaction. As I've spent more time on the circuit, I've learned myself to slow down and relax and just socialize with other runners. I did not enjoy being hustled out right after the race and not getting to talk to my buddies. This is a very nice lady, and I realize she was Captain of the ship, but time with these friends is something I don't like to give up.
But a more serious contrast of philosophy turned up on this trip, one I admit that I'm rather sensitive about. We had done two hard races on back-to-back days, and the Captain said "I don't know if I want to do that again." Maybe I was boasting a bit, but I said I've done it many times, even doing as many as three in a day, so I was used to it. And she said "yes, but we RUN the races!" she emphasized. I know for fact that the other lady that with us is also a run/walker like myself, but she is just faster than me. She also seems to share my attitude of just having fun with it and doing your best: in fact we are planning on walking (gasp, don't tell the "Captain!") a full marathon together in June. But that implication that I am less of an athlete for not running the whole thing bothers me. I know it is quietly there with some runners, but I truly think those that doing it for the love understand. I have extremely fast friends, and turtle friends like myself. \Most know that I am giving my very best effort, whether both feet are on the ground or not.
And that is what I politely told her. I know she is new to the game, and doesn't realize that you can't always run every step, and is probably not familiar with the Galloway method or John "The Penguin" Bingham." She may not know that Bill Rodgers won Boston one year with a four minute walking break, and that in the ultra-marathon game only the very elite can run every step. And that doing 30 half-marathons in 3 years, even if some were strictly walking, is an accomplishment worth being proud of.
She just recently did a 5-miler and wants to run a 10K this year. I wish her nothing but the best of luck. But I do hope she learns to run not just for the hardware, understand that others are not as gifted and will someday try a half marathon, even if she does have to walk part of it.
Wednesday, January 1, 2014
Running resolutions
A friend posted on Facebook last night that someone is going to leave a status today that says "new year, new me!" I told her you won't be getting that from me! While I would like to tweak a few things like getting my diet back on track, I am generally satisfied fitness-wise. I have never been one for resolutions on January 1. I believe if you feel the need to change something in your life, you do it whenever the time is right for you. In fact, Runner's World has proven that many runners actually start their regimens in March, which is just when I did, going on, (gasp!) five years now.
So many of my running friends know exactly what they want. As usual, I'm flopping around on the dock like a grouper. One wanted to run up mountains, so she spent the summer in Maine doing just that. Two others just signed up for a 50 mile ultra (to which I have the utmost respect!) Another is still going strong attempting to become a 50 stater; others have the Disney challenges in mind.
Oh, I'd know what I'd want if I had the resources. I'd be a 50 stater 50 times over, not to mention every Canadian province. Then I'd go race in funky places like Istanbul or Auckland. But for the budget runner, it's a bit tougher.
I have been finding out that rest really doesn't do much for me (though a few non-runners dispute that. They think I get too worn out and crabby.) Since October 27th, I've only done one half, four 5k's and two non-competitive snowshoe events. I also dropped out of a five miler due to the lingering affects of a cold combined with frigid conditions. Yes, that might be a year of racing for many fast people, but not for this chick. The thought of a starting line really does help keep me motivated to keep working out even when I don't feel like it during the week.
So what DO I want? I guess I will give it a try:
I would like to break 3 hours in a half marathon. You can all stop clutching your stomachs from laughter now, but for me it would be something. Mostly I'd like to get a little faster so that I don't have to worry about the SAG wagon. Time limits make me very nervous. Even though I was in no danger in Milwaukee, I think I pushed a little harder than I should have in that concrete jungle (to quote my brother-in-law) which is how I got injured. I didn't do the fall race in Madison due to a time limit, so I stood on the sidelines watching people I passed in May go by me. A friend said I must have looked like Aaron Rodgers standing on the sidelines after he broke his collarbone, thinking "give me the ball and let me play!"
Which leads me to Grandma's. I want to try to get into the Bjorkland half up in Duluth, which has a 3:03 time limit, although apparently it is not heavily enforced. Everyone knows how I love the Great Lakes, and you know that I am a firm believer in combining running with my other life interests.
Within a few years, I'd like to do a snowshoe 10k in a respectable amount of time to qualify for the National Championships. They always say if you want to go to the Olympics or become a national champion in something, find a niche sport like team handball to do it in. Apparently, the snowshoe championships aren't much bigger than a regular race, but it would really be something to me to compete and finish there. Improving fitness isn't the biggest obstacle though, it's my fear factor on downhills and in the heavy woods.
I want to finish my book, tentatively called "The Absolute Beginners Guide to Racing" and get it on the Kindle. Even though a plate of escargot is faster than me, I think I have enough experience and knowledge to help someone else out.
Then there's the big one. Even though no one has ever said it, I can sense the question in the back of some minds when I tell them I've done 30 half-marathons: so when are you going to do a REAL marathon? My mother is skeptical, my dad watched a woman who was out cold for 45 minutes at the finish line, so he is convinced that's me. But my runner friends are much more optimistic. In fact, they are using a little friendly peer pressure: if you do the Fox Cities Marathon we will do it too and be there waiting for you. How can I resist that?!? I will sign up, and I can always drop back to the half if needed.
So apparently I do have some goals in mind after all. But a ticket to the London Marathon wouldn't be turned down either...
So many of my running friends know exactly what they want. As usual, I'm flopping around on the dock like a grouper. One wanted to run up mountains, so she spent the summer in Maine doing just that. Two others just signed up for a 50 mile ultra (to which I have the utmost respect!) Another is still going strong attempting to become a 50 stater; others have the Disney challenges in mind.
Oh, I'd know what I'd want if I had the resources. I'd be a 50 stater 50 times over, not to mention every Canadian province. Then I'd go race in funky places like Istanbul or Auckland. But for the budget runner, it's a bit tougher.
I have been finding out that rest really doesn't do much for me (though a few non-runners dispute that. They think I get too worn out and crabby.) Since October 27th, I've only done one half, four 5k's and two non-competitive snowshoe events. I also dropped out of a five miler due to the lingering affects of a cold combined with frigid conditions. Yes, that might be a year of racing for many fast people, but not for this chick. The thought of a starting line really does help keep me motivated to keep working out even when I don't feel like it during the week.
So what DO I want? I guess I will give it a try:
I would like to break 3 hours in a half marathon. You can all stop clutching your stomachs from laughter now, but for me it would be something. Mostly I'd like to get a little faster so that I don't have to worry about the SAG wagon. Time limits make me very nervous. Even though I was in no danger in Milwaukee, I think I pushed a little harder than I should have in that concrete jungle (to quote my brother-in-law) which is how I got injured. I didn't do the fall race in Madison due to a time limit, so I stood on the sidelines watching people I passed in May go by me. A friend said I must have looked like Aaron Rodgers standing on the sidelines after he broke his collarbone, thinking "give me the ball and let me play!"
Which leads me to Grandma's. I want to try to get into the Bjorkland half up in Duluth, which has a 3:03 time limit, although apparently it is not heavily enforced. Everyone knows how I love the Great Lakes, and you know that I am a firm believer in combining running with my other life interests.
Within a few years, I'd like to do a snowshoe 10k in a respectable amount of time to qualify for the National Championships. They always say if you want to go to the Olympics or become a national champion in something, find a niche sport like team handball to do it in. Apparently, the snowshoe championships aren't much bigger than a regular race, but it would really be something to me to compete and finish there. Improving fitness isn't the biggest obstacle though, it's my fear factor on downhills and in the heavy woods.
I want to finish my book, tentatively called "The Absolute Beginners Guide to Racing" and get it on the Kindle. Even though a plate of escargot is faster than me, I think I have enough experience and knowledge to help someone else out.
Then there's the big one. Even though no one has ever said it, I can sense the question in the back of some minds when I tell them I've done 30 half-marathons: so when are you going to do a REAL marathon? My mother is skeptical, my dad watched a woman who was out cold for 45 minutes at the finish line, so he is convinced that's me. But my runner friends are much more optimistic. In fact, they are using a little friendly peer pressure: if you do the Fox Cities Marathon we will do it too and be there waiting for you. How can I resist that?!? I will sign up, and I can always drop back to the half if needed.
So apparently I do have some goals in mind after all. But a ticket to the London Marathon wouldn't be turned down either...
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