Down by the River

Reading "50/50" by Dean Karnazes today, I ran across this very insightful viewpoint regarding an intriguing contrast of both passion and motivation in regards to running. Here is an excerpt from his book:

The best way I know to overcome low motivation for running is to get back in touch with the source of my passion to run. Motivation and passion are somewhat different. Passion is an overwhelming love for the experience of a favorite activity. Motivation is a drive to engage in an activity based on some reward the activity offers beyond the simple enjoyment of the experience itself. When you have great passion for running, or anything else, you don't need any extra motivation. But motivation without passion can only take you so far.

Nonrunners become runners by developing a passion for running. But runners often take their running in directions that distance them from the source of their passion. Trading the simple joy of running for a focus on competition is the classic scenario... That being said, there is no question that setting event goals can be a powerful motivator for runners, and it has had a positive effect on my moral in the past. Looking forward to a specific event goal has a way of making each individual training motivation level high. However, goals only have this effect when they are appropriate, and when they are viewed with the proper perspective. For example, if you set a goal to run a marathon as a way to impress others, it probably won't keep you motivated. Goals have to come from the heart. They must represent achievements that you desire for yourself. And if you place too much importance on any goal, then it won't keep you motivated. If achieving a certain finishing time in your next marathon becomes the only thing about your running that matters to you, then you may not enjoy the process of training for that marathon. Sure, achieving a goal can be rewarding, but it's the journey--not reaching the destination--that brings true fulfillment.

Okay, I sheepishly admit...I secretly love playing dodgeball with the church youth on Wednesday nights. I'm certainly not an dodgeball expert, because frequently you'll see me being completely owned by those who are younger and, realistically, more expertly-trained than I. But even though I am clearly not the dodgeball professional I aspire to be, I still utterly enjoy it. You could say I have a passion for it. Now, if Jon were to make good on his regular promises of fist-fulls of candy to the winning team, rather than only his "undying love and affection", things might change. However, I am thinking that still wouldn't affect the outcome of the game for me. Though such motivation is obviously good and all, just the act of this favorite pastime, shared with our group of middle-schoolers, is simply more than enough to suffice.

Sure, some runners say that running and motivation go hand-in-hand. That by seeking motivation first, the desire to run (and run successfully) will surely follow. I can relate to this. Who wouldn't say that motivation isn't a strong stimulator? I'm certainly not denying the effect that it has on pushing us out of a warm bed at those freakeshly-early morning times, or the response that it develops in us as we inevitably work increasingly harder towards prized goals. That's life. Without motivation, most of us wouldn't tackle the hard stuff. But remember, if all you strive for is a set of results, then that motivation is inevitably going to keep you locked on a one-way path headed towards lack of enthusiasm.

Dean is obviously onto something here. It seems that some of us have forgotten the basics of how powerful passion can be within our lives, as well within our running.

Can you remember back to the original enthusiasm that brought you to running in the first place? Maybe it was the liberation from your own self-doubt...you know, those limitations you thought that eternally separated you from the casual runner you'd see time to time running across town, seemingly without a care in the world. Or how about the courage your running developed...the desire to experience or do something you thought previously wasn't possible, and the glorious self-awakening you felt when you did it. The rush of endorphins, and the knowledge that by breaking through those limitations you had found a hidden runner inside yourself.

I feel that running and passion go hand-in-hand. That, by finding and remembering your passion (and making this a running foundation), your motivation and the success of your running will surely follow. It's all about getting back to those basics. Back to the acceptance that some goals may or may not be reached, a race may or may not be finished, a PR may or may not be set...it's acceptance. It's back to running for and with a passion, and letting the motivation grow from there.

I like this quote by Jesse Owens -- "I always loved running...it was something you could do by yourself, and under your own power. You could go in any direction, fast or slow as you wanted, fighting the wind if you felt like it, seeking out new sights just on the strength of your feet and the courage of your lungs." How true this is, that when you break running down to its very core, the single strongest element that encourages and pushes us is the passion from which it was originally developed.

I'm just like you. I have my days of good running, and some days of bad running. My motivational levels swing up and down, much like the thermometer currently outside. Today was clearly one of those days where the pool of motivation was lower than normal. But then I found an old trail down by the river, and for an hour I simply ran. Through four inches of fresh snow, patches of ice and sharp gusts of wind, I ran. Thoughts from the pressing matters of life dropped away for a few brief moments, and somewhere along the way the passion was found again.

And in finding this, I kept right on running.

Adventures in Off-Roading

I am what you would call a self-described, enthusiastic, part-time trail runner. I'm the type of person who enjoys the quiet, the scenery, and the challenge a trail provides. Indeed, dirt paths are easier on the legs and feet than hard-surfaced roads, and most are away from traffic, but they can also be a true test of strength and stamina. Besides, being out in nature can turn a blasé run into an adventure.

Trails are also a great way to keep running while you're on vacation visiting state and national parks. However, remember that some trails are easier to negotiate than others.

Here's a quick guide to different trail types if you're interested in a little off-road running yourself.

RAILS TO TRAILS

Throughout the United States, thousands of miles of old railway lines have been converted into multiuse trails. They're flat (never more than a three percent grade) and scenic, and some have mile markers-- perfect for most workouts. Surfaces are either dirt, gravel (crushed rock), or paved; a paved trail often has a parallel dirt path alongside it. Find one near you by visiting Rails-to-Trails.

GROOMED TRAILS

Packed-dirt paths often travel along rivers or creeks, or around lakes and parks. Their smooth, forgiving surface makes them the best choice for reducing impact without the added hazards of rocks and roots. Some are measured, and some are wide enough for your kids to join you on their bikes.

HIKING TRAILS

These narrow, rugged paths tend to have obstacles like rocks, roots, and stream crossings, which challenge your balance and lateral motion. They make for a great workout but can also lead to sprained ankles, so start with a hike-run. Run the flat sections, then walk the hills and tricky terrain. Hike with friends, tuck a map into your fuel belt, and be prepared for hazards like animals, bugs, or weather changes.

Race Report: 2008 Living History Farms XC

Race: Living History Farms
Date: November 22, 2008
Location: West Des Moines, IA
Distance: 7 miles
Official Time: 1:05:49
Pace/Mile: 9:24

A light wind blowing, temps hovering in the high 20's, and the slight hint of flurries in the air...the perfect weather for a racing classic. With over 7,500 runners converging Saturday morning on Living History Farms in West Des Moines, this race certainly continues to live up to its billing as the largest cross-country race in North America. Where else can you see runners dressed as reindeer pulling Santa and his sleigh, a flock of women in emaculate white wedding dresses, guys in swimsuits and goggles, the entire entourage from the Wizard of Oz, an Elvis-impersonator or two, and a guy in a cow costume. In a word, this race is 'udderly' crazy!

Hoping to find a better parking spot than last year which would allow me to be closer to the start but also provide me an easier exit with the post-race crowds, I arrived around 7:00 a.m. The area was already beginning to fill up, with scores of runners jogging to and fro, some picking up their race packets with others nervously pacing in an attempt to stay warm. Having picked up my packet the night before, I was glad to be sitting out my early morning wait in a warm vehicle instead of the long line I saw outside the main pickup & registration location. Pulling out my morning newspaper and half of a peanut butter and honey sandwich, I hunkered down to pass the time.

Closer to 8:00, I stepped out of my Jeep and began my pre-race stretching routine. The cold air was certainly crisp, but with this race, I'd rather have it snowy and cold than sunny and warm any day. Finished with my stretching, I walked over to use portable toilets (surprisingly clean) and then ambled towards the large crowds. An interesting mix of runners had already begun to congregate in front of the registration building. It included an impromptu ritual dance by the man dressed in only a indian loincloth, famed for running barefoot in every race he attends, and a small crowd of giggling brides dressed in bright white gowns (soon to be a muddy brown, of course). Though I'm never typically surprised by the costumes which appear each year for this race, I do wonder once in a while whether the people wearing them are a bit crazy. I mean, who in their right minds would wear nothing but a diaper to a 7-mile cross country foot race? Makes me feel somewhat overdressed in my long-sleeve and running tights. But at least I'm comfortable.

Lining up in the starting corral, I realized then just how large this popular Iowa race has become. Crowds of runners extending virtually forever in all directions around me, almost 700 more than last year alone. After a few brief announcements, including that of reminding runners to be sure timing chips were firmly attached to shoes, the entire assembly came together for the singing of the National Anthem in unison. Then the last-minute fidgets before, while we counted down to race start. And we're off!

Having positioned myself in the first 1,000 runners near the starting line, I only had but a minute to wait before those around me began the transition from a slow creep into a nominal running pace. Someone next to me kept asking, "where's the start? where's the start?", to which I replied, "just look for the timing mats". I figured that since we were wearing timing chips, we'd assuredly trot over some sort of timing mats at or near the start that would kick off our official race timing. But as we passed under the final banners and photographers, we all soon realized that someone must have forgotten that crucial element. What, no timing mats? Quickly triggering the chrono on my watch, I increased my pace a little to make up for the 'late' start, eager to make the best time overall that I could.

The first mile of the course took everyone around the 1800's-replica farm town and past the hundreds of spectators that lined its dirt streets, all screaming their encouragements. As the roadway wound up and around the outskits of the village, we then entered the tunnel which would pass us under Interstate 35 to the outlying fields beyond. Mile 2 saw us headed down a dusty road past the large barn and horse-powered farm, just as the crowd of runners began to thin some. Towards the end of this mile, we would turn onto a double track trail along the edge of a tilled field. Having experienced a sprained ankle on this same uneven path a previous year, I did my best to find the flatest route and followed a group of eager young runners as they wound their way past a few of the slower ones.

The next mile found us following the fields as they ebbed and flowed around the existing farmland. The winds were light, but still chilling in their effect on those of us who were beginning to grow warmer with every step. I pulled the zipper on my thermal shirt down a couple notches and rolled my sleeves slightly, trying my best to equalize the heat and cold my body craved and yet required.

Mile 3 clicked by like clockwork, with my watch showing roughly 26:30. In the distance, I could see the hoards of runners as they dropped into the first wooded section containing one of the many famed creek crossings we were sure to encounter. As we followed those in front of us, we entered the woods and were immediately faced with our first water event. Not hesitating, I jumped down to the freezing water below and proceded to scurry as quickly as I could up the other bank. The water had been over ankle-deep, and was quite a shock to the feet. But I knew they would warm up within minutes if I kept my pace. Out the other side and through the trails of yet more hills, we plodded forward.

Exiting the first section of woods, we came upon yet another expansive field. This open portion would last a mile or so. Part way through, we passed over the marker for Mile 4 and past a primitive village site. Nearly tripping on an exposed campfire pit, we turned onto a narrow path that would lead us into the next wooded foray. Again, we were subjected to more ups and downs, creeks and riverbeds. Many times, we found ourselves clawing our way up muddy slopes with only the aid of knotted ropes. Oh, what fun!

Shortly after Mile 5, we once again entered the thundering tunnel under I-35 and left the roadway for the final wooded section of the course. Here, it was hill after constant hill, with more water than we'd experienced the entire first half. By now, my toes were beginning to lose feeling, but I encouraged myself to continue on without a break. At Mile 6, we began a long downward trail towards the final creek crossings. Glancing furtively at my watch, I noticed I was still doing fairly well with a time of about 56:12. Knowing the last mile contained the mother-of-all-hills, I dug as deeply as I could and raced through this final wooded section and launched myself over the final watery pit. Before me loomed "the hill".

Taking a brief 15-20 second respite from the punishment at hand, I quickly assessed myself and began focusing on the remainder of the course before me. I loped back into a uphill jog, picking up pace slightly as I reached the top. All along the meadow above, runners were panting and heaving, trying to catch any air they could. But all of us knew that stopping now wasn't in the cards...that finish line was but a half-mile away. Up and over a few modest hills, not to mention a log to two, we found ourselves on the downhill portion and entering the farm town setting again. Putting on a burst of what available speed I had, I did my best to pass as many people as I could before literally falling over the timing mats at the end.

Walking up the hill from the finish line, I met my friend Tom who had finished a couple of minutes before. He was already starting to tremble from the cold, and mentioned he would be looking for some hot apple cider as soon as possible. Making my way to the post-race refreshments area, I found a couple of donuts waiting exclusively for me. Ah, how did they know?

Do you know when a race is considered hugely successful? Just glance around afterwards and notice the thousands of finishers with telltale grins on their faces, sharing war-stories from the past hour or so. That is Living History Farms in a nutshell. Oh, that and the jelly-filled donuts.

Be sure to check out the Des Moines Register video.

Race Report: Des Moines Half Marathon

Race: Des Moines Half-Marathon
Distance: 13.1 miles
Official Time: 1:50:43
Pace/Mile: 8:26

There's nothing like waking up race morning to a nice, cool 48° outside, partly cloudy skies, and a slight wind. What better conditions to set a new half-marathon PR with? That I did.

With only two weeks until my planned trip to New York City for the marathon debut of my life, I originally decided today would be treated like a training day. A nice and easy 13.1 miles on a spectacular course, with very few ups and downs along the way. But all that went out the window when I realized the prime conditions we'd been given this race morning. Suddenly, I found myself dreaming of new splits and a myriad of ways to increase and maintain my pace...oh, that elusive sub-1:50 would soon be mine. Heck, maybe I'd take off the kid-gloves and do some serious swinging towards a 1:45...

Toeing the line (okay, officially I was more like a full 100ft back), I eyed the competitors in my immediate vicinity and braced myself for the start that would inevitably unleash the furious nature that I surely had inside... ready, GO!

Moments later, unfortunately I quickly learned the "furious" nature from within had apparently decided to sleep in. That long training run on Friday suddenly reminded me that my legs were still a tad tired, and contending with slightly warmer starting temps than I'd expected, I decided it might be better to conserve a little energy and play it safe. Nestled in a crowd of a few thousand of my closest running friends, I began calculating an 8:10-8:15 pace that would give me a chance at breaking the 1:50 barrier.

Though the crowds were a little thicker than my experience from previous DSM marathons past, it did make for finding other like-minded runners of the same pace much easier. Settling in behind a few guys who were talking of BQ dreams, the first few miles of the course soon flew by, taking us from one end of downtown to the other, past the half and full-marathon split, then down onto Fleur Drive. My pace during this time fluctuated only slightly per mile, primarily due to the crowds.

Turning off of Fleur Drive, racers then entered the Water Works Park area south of the downtown area. Here, the next five miles would take us through the beautifully wooded roadways and past a long stretch of the Raccoon River. This is a particular favorite area of mine, and I often spend my lunch hour on training runs there. The park road is bounded by George Flagg Parkway, making it a great place for spectators to get close to the action without having to walk far. Shortly past the 5.5 mile mark, I encountered my kids doing their best to enthusiastically high-five every runner they could. Both they and my wife gave me big hugs, then cheered me on as I pulled away to begin the large loop portion at the back of the park. Miles 6-8 clicked off rather quickly, and soon I found myself reapproaching Fleur Drive.

Crossing over the roadway we next entered Grays Lake Park, widely considered the “Place to Meet” in the Des Moines Metro area. The centerpiece of the park’s renewal plan is the two-mile trail encircling the lake, also a runner favorite. Here I felt my pace beginning to lapse somewhat, my mile average dropping to roughly 8:30 or so. I could tell I was feeling tired, but I also knew I needed to keep going if I wanted to stay close to my 1:50 goal.

Rounding the lake, we began the push up the bike trail, over the MLK Jr. Parkway bridge and onto the final stretch. Mile 12 came up quickly, and I noticed my watch reading 1:41...this would be cutting it close. I picked up the speed as much as I could and followed the course as it turned north towards the downtown finish line area. You could hear the crowds during this final half-mile, and along with Laura and the kids about a hundred yards from the line, they carried me my final steps.

Though I missed my sub-1:50 goal by only mere seconds, I'll admit I am still happy to be bettering my PR by close to two minutes.

For those of you who have not had the pleasure of running the Des Moines Marathon or Half-Marathon, I seriously suggest you check it out. It is well-known for it's beautiful course and plenty of friendly spectators. Definitely, a "must do" if you live in the Midwest.

Finally, a guick shout out to my family for their support and encouragement today...without you my racing would never be as special you make it for me.

Maintaining Motivation

Is it just me, or is autumn not the best time of year to be a runner? Typically, still warm enough for shorts, but just cool enough to inspire you to pick up the pace. This summer, you got yourself motivated...the right running shoes, the right running routes, and the right running partners. But keeping it all going through the fall is key to staying with it through the more challenging winter. So why should your fitness drop when the leaves do?

Like me, I am sure you've taken advantage of the long summer days to log more miles or train for races. Possibly you are more fit than you've been all year. But this otherwise ideal season is fleeting, and without the right focus you could lose all you've gained as winter rolls into town. "The key to long-term improvement in running is adding another layer to your fitness base each year," says Eugene, Oregon-based coach Brad Hudson.

Here's some ways to make the most of the best season for runners.

Take Aim
Now that you've reached your original goal of becoming a runner, set your sights on another running goal to keep yourself pumped. Lots of new (or returning) runners get motivated by choosing a race as a goal, but use whatever target works for you, whether that's building up to your first 10-mile run, running five times a week, or logging 100 miles in a month. "A good goal keeps you excited," says Jenny Hadfield, coauthor with her husband, John "The Penguin" Bingham.

Go Off-Road
Consider trading concrete for dirt this fall. Running on trails reduces your risk of overuse injuries because the surface is more forgiving. "Fall is a beautiful time of year to enjoy trails," says Hadfield. Fartlek runs, which randomly alternate faster bursts of running with slower jogs, are a great way to challenge yourself--and have fun--on trails. After warming up, set your sights on a big boulder or towering tree up ahead and increase your pace until you reach it, then run easy for a while before picking another landmark. But be careful when you hit the trails because the unevenness of the terrain can increase your risk for an ankle sprain. "Keep your eyes about three feet ahead on the trail," says Hadfield.

Vary Your Pace
Mix in some faster running to keep things interesting and enhance your fitness. Hadfield suggests the "negative-split run" as a good way to start speedwork. Pick an out-and-back route. Run for, say, 20 minutes, then turn around and try to cut one or two minutes from that time coming back. You can also incorporate faster running into your normal routes by dividing some runs into five-minute segments, says Hadfield. Run the first one or two minutes of each segment at a pace that is noticeably faster than regular training pace, then ease back for the remainder of the five minutes. Repeat until you complete your run.

Experiment
Simple logistical changes to your regular running routine can help keep your enthusiasm high, says Hadfield. Do you always run alone? Start running with a friend, or join a local running club. If you normally run in silence, try running with an iPod. Instead of always running from your front door, occasionally drive to a nice park or beach for a change of scenery.

Breaking News…Lance to Ride Again?

Some are beginning to wonder, does Lance have a chip on his shoulder? It seems rumors are ablaze that Armstrong, the cycling monster, will come out of retirement to return to competitive racing. (What?! Did he and Brett Favre sign a secret "stay-out-of-retirement" pact together? Maybe I should change the blog title to "Lance Armstrong to come out of retirement to sign with Jets", just so I can scoop everyone else.)

VeloNews claims Armstrong will come out of retirement next year to compete in five road races with the Astana team, including the 2009 Tour de France. The rumor, which has been rampant for nearly a month, gained some legs when former Discovery Channel team director Dirk Dernol recently signed with Astana for 2009. Adding fuel to the fire, Johan Bruyneel (Armstrong's former team manager) is also currently Astana's team boss. Not to be overlooked, but even Trek, a favorite of the Lance-camp, is Astana's main bike sponsor. Is the deal finally getting too sweet for Lance to pass up?

But Bruyneel is uncertain whether even Armstrong can return after three years out of professional cycling. “He’s continued training and he’s done marathons, but he’s coming in with a very different style of life to a sportsman,” Bruyneel said. “Three years without competing is a lot.”

The current speculation is that the ex-Tour king might want to return to prove he's drug-free, since Armstrong at least appears willing to submit to drug testing. The U.S. Anti-Doping Agency confirmed he is part of its out-of-competition testing pool and would be eligible for elite competition on Feb. 1, 2009. The Amgen Tour of California conveniently begins Feb. 14.

Okay, it's not as if Armstrong hasn't been working out. Other rumors are that Armstrong will continue to pursue mountain bike racing, and may try his hand at cyclocross as well. In August, he finished second in the Leadville Trail 100, a lung-searing 100-mile mountain bike race through the Colorado Rockies (photo at left). He also plans to compete in his third New York City Marathon this November, where he hopes to crush his time of 2:46:43. Co'mon, let's face it...this guy's off-days are typically better than any of the stellar attempts we've made in our dreams.

Still, all the brouhaha begs the obvious questions…will Lance ride again? Could an 8th victory at Tour de France be right around the corner?

As I've admitted before, I am not a Lance-fanatic, though the guy is astoundingly athletic. I suppose I'd miss him [ahem] and his marathon-running prowness. But I will proudly admit one simple fact, one which I'm sure millions around the world are breathlessly anticipating at this very moment...it would be incredible to see him come back for an eighth attempt.

We'll have to wait and see.

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Updated 09/10/2008: It's official...Lance is BACK!
A video announcement can be found on his foundation's web site. With a scheduled announcement set for Sept. 24 in New York, it’s a sure thing the next couple of weeks are going to bring more electric news. And, so, the countdown to the 2009 Tour de France begins...

Six Word Memoirs

The theme for this week's Take It and Run Thursday is "Six Word Running Memoir". Think of it as an abbreviated account of my personal life and experience through the focus of running. Normally I could come up with a single quote that said what I wanted to say, but running is different in so many ways for me. So I've shared a couple of my top favorites below.

Running is life's challenging, silent partner...

That simple sentence above has been the truth for me for a long, long time. Running, to me, does feel like a partner...the silent partner that doesn't second-guess me and always gives me the bare facts, each and every time I run. While growing up, I'd find comfort in long runs around the lake where I grew up in northern Minnesota. It was where I could push myself, to be stronger and faster. And it was also a form of release for me, allowing carefree contemplation and retrospect that only a quiet trail could offer.

Running's pursuit will always challenge me...

Funny thing, I was recently reflecting on my running experiences and wondered to myself, "will I ever find a day when running just isn't what I want to do anymore?" That's certainly an odd question to ask myself, especially when I look back at how long I've been running. It has been a virtual staple of my life for so long. But would I ever give it up? Well, let's look at running, not as a race but as a journey. A journey without a destination. So when I am completely honest, I realize I don't see running as a destination in my life. To me it's only a process by which I learn more about myself. Every road or trail I run only serves to continually reveal who I am and what I am made of. And it's the challenge of that which keeps me running.

Race Report: Grandmas Marathon

Race: Grandmas Marathon
Date: June 21, 2008
Location: Duluth, MN
Official Time: 4:54:06
Pace/Mile: 11:12

We're finally back from a very relaxing vacation in the northwoods...a much needed respite from all the rain and flooding concerns we've been accustomed to over the past few weeks. Fortunate for me, my basement remained dry during my absence and I was able to spend my focus on camping with the family, as well as a little running.

This past weekend marked my 15th Grandmas Marathon - an all-time race favorite of mine for well over two decades now. It seems, I just can't resist the scenic course as it winds down along the shores of Lake Superior from Two Harbors to Canal Park in Duluth. It's a race that has grown immensely in the past few years, likely due to the heavenly location and hoards of enthusiastic spectators. Our family has created a nice little tradition of heading up a day or two before the big event, then spend a few days after camping and exploring along the northshore. Of course, having family and friends along for the ride is an additional pleasure, enjoying s'mores around a late night campfire and experiencing the outdoor splendor together. And, also fortunate for me, they happen to be the best chase group a runner could ever hope to have.

This year's Grandmas Marathon happened to be one for the record books. A total of 9,888 entries, 7,103 starters and 6,759 timed finishers. Wow, that's a lot of runners. I really need to begin putting that into perspective, because soon I'll be swimming in deeper waters when the New York Marathon comes around in later fall. Still, it's a sight to see on a normally quiet stretch of lakeshore drive at 7:00AM in the morning. And as my dad once put it, it's "a sea of humanity to behold".

We arrived around mid-afternoon on Thursday at our designated camping spot in Jay Cooke State Park, a few scant miles outside of Carlton, MN, where we set up our campers. This area just 20 miles southwest of Duluth happens to be one of the most beautiful parks in the region, with miles of hiking trails and the St. Louis River running through it all. It also happens to be where I graduated from many long years ago, so I was already familiar with the area and able to take the family on a few adventurous excursions off the beaten path. One of these being a trip to the secret beach just past the old trail-trestle bridge bikepath crossing, where you can find ample amounts of agates and loads of flat stones. I'm guessing we spent nearly an hour just skipping rocks over the river with the kids one morning. (Shhhhh...don't tell anyone I told you.)

The next morning, after a hearty campfire breakfast of eggs, bacon, pancakes, hashbrowns, skillet biscuits, etc. (need I go on?), we headed over to the DECC center in Duluth to pick up the customary race packet and wander the expo. However, upon arriving I happened to do one of the dumbest things ever while vacationing...that is, locking your keys in the car. I really don't know yet how I did it, except that I was removing unnecessary keys to lessen the clutter in my pockets and accidentally switched the sets in my hand. The set I threw into the console happened to be minivan key. I think I realized it the moment I shut the door, to which I let out a gigantic sigh in disbelief. A blessing for us, some wonderful volunteers at the expo info booth knew of a local locksmith, and within 20 minutes the key was back in my hands and we were inside cruising the crowds…$40 dollars less to spend. Unbelievable.

After spending way too much time walking the expo, we headed outside where we signed the children up for the annual Whipper Snapper Races for kids. That was a blast! Each child received a race number and a finisher ribbon for their efforts. I even broke down and bought them each their own official shirts to commemorate the fun event.

After our trip into Duluth, we traveled back to Cloquet and enjoyed a tasty pre-race pasta meal consisting of lasagna and pizza at the local Sammy's Pizza. For the past few years, this has become our carbo loading hangout-of-choice, with more than enough choices for everyone in the group. It's really a diamond in the rough...check it out if you ever have the chance. Happily, we also were able to dine with a couple of friends who lived in the area and enjoyed good conversation for a couple hours. Later that night after returning to our camp, we roasted a fair share of s'mores around the fire and soon turned in for about 5-6 hours of sleep before our early morning 5AM wake up alarm sounded.

And race morning came early indeed. My wife and I quickly set about busily packing the van with our race support materials (which consisted of bananas, orange slices, gatorades, sunscreen and Endurolytes) and sleepy-eyed children. After dropping off an extra family vehicle at the DECC center where the race would eventually end at, we combined forces for the remaining drive up the Hwy 61 bypass to the North Shore Road starting area just south of Two Harbors where a huge mass of racers and spectators waited. After taking my time stretching out with the kids and getting a round of good luck hugs from all, I trotted off to squeeze myself into the starting chute just minutes before the race was to commence. Packed together like sardines with thousands of other runners, we spent a brief moment of silence to honor last year's champion, Wesly Ngetich, who recently had been fatally shot due to ethnic disputes in his native African homeland. After the tribute, we pressed forward in anticipation like waddling penguins as we listened to the all-too-familiar strains of "Chariots of Fire" float across the loudspeakers, signaling the countdown to the start of the race. Moments later, the gun sounded and we were off.

Well, sort of. By my watch it took me over a full four minutes just to cross the official starting line from where I had been standing. That's a lot of people on a roadway only 25 feet wide! Starting the timer on my watch, I settled in for a good pace and began my mental calculations for time splits and possible hydration stops. However, as I look back now, I think I may have started off strong. Too strong. One of the cardinal rules of running a marathon is to hold back just enough during the first half so you'll have enough to hopefully match your pace during the latter half. Unfortunately for many runners, including me, the weather was a bit too warm to notice until further on. Coupled with the unusual humidity, this race was going to be different than the cooler races in years past.

By the time we ran through Knife River Harbor past the five-mile mark, where my posse greeted me with my prescribed dose of Endurolytes, the effects of the heat were already beginning to show. Though I still held a smile, my normally sufficient pace of ~9:00 per mile was slowly beginning to erode away. Though the starting temp had to be in the higher 60's, much of the initial course is far from the shores of the lake with no winds to speak of. Rather, the trees on either side of the roadway act more like a barrier and trap much of the rising morning heat. Add to that the rains we had experienced the past couple of days leading up to the race, it was starting to feel like a pressure cooker. And I could tell a majority of the runners were beginning to feel it as well, as racers began hugging the left portion of the roadway where shade from the trees was still available. I decided to slow it down a couple of notches, to lessen the chance of hydration and possible cramping later.

Miles 6-12 were relatively uneventful, except for the high-five I got from Al Franken along the course, and spent just shadowing any available runners who approximated the pace I was feeling most comfortable with. But by the time I reached the halfway point (13.1 miles) and saw my support crew, I had slowed down to around 10:30 per mile...well less than I had anticipated. Re-assessing the conditions and my pace, I knew my shot at a finishing time of sub-4:15 was just not to be had this day around. Instead, I set a new goal of 4:30-4:45 in order to allow myself a bit of leeway for additional water breaks and an occasional fast-walk.

Around mile 18, we emerged from the scenic North Shore Drive near Lester Park and transitioned onto London Road. My crew met me shortly after with a ziplock full of the most tasty orange slices this side of heaven, definitely one of those must-haves in the later stages of any marathon...man, those guys are great! Then, tanking up on water and Ultima drink, I headed off towards the finish line only a 10K away.

I felt the tightening in my calves a mile or so later at mile 21. At this point I knew I'd be glad to finish with anything under 5:00 and shifted my goal to "just finishing". With Lemon Drop Hill looming before me at mile 22, I scrapped conservatism and made it a point to run the entire length up, passing a rather large majority of walking runners. However, my calves thanked me for it by persuading me to back off for a block or so at the top. Oh well, at least I hadn't let the infamous hill beat me. Now, on to the finish.

Following London Road up onto Superior Street, we began the final leg through the downtown streets of Duluth. Here, the crowds lined the streets for blocks, and the cheering from the crowds of onlookers was close to deafening. It's one of the best reasons while I love Grandmas Marathon so much. Passing the 25 mile mark, we turned left for a short downhill trip around the DECC center and along the harbor edge. Summoning the last of my reserves, I changed from the shuffle-run I'd been using to keep my stiff and sore muscles from barking too loudly to a semi-respectable stride rate for the final few hundred meters...and came across the finish line at 4:54:06.

Just past the finish line, I found my wife yelling estatically from over the crowd control fence and gave her a big hug and kiss. Grabbing my finisher medal, as well some orange juice for replenishment and snack items galore, I met up with my family by the Marine Museum where I gladly rested my weary feet and shared my vast goodies with the kids.

While I didn’t beat my goal time, I am pleased with the overall result. Finishing has always my key goal. Knowing when to back off and refocus your efforts just to save your race is something I learned many a race ago. And while a sub 4:15 would have been nice (heck, I would have loved a sub 4:00), the course conditions eventually took their toll on a majority of us runners that day. But it was still a beautiful day, even if I hobbled a little back to the car.

Next long-distance race up...New York Marathon!

Race Report: IA Games Adventure Race

Race: Iowa Games Adventure Race
Date: June 8, 2008
Location: Boone, IA
Length: 5-8 hour sprint adv race (~25-30 miles)
Official Time: 6:19:00
Official Finish: 2nd place 4-person men / 10th out of 41 overall

With an unseasonably high amount of rain for the region, I had begun to wonder whether race officials would be postponing the race in favor of a drier day. Obviously, that would have provided easier access to the river basins for the area we were slated to participate at. But the word came down the day before the event from IA Games officials that we were moving forward with the race as intended. Only a few slight changes were to be announced at the pre-race meeting. And so, after picking up our team members (Mark, Bryce, and Van) on race morning around 6AM, including loads of mountain bikes & adventure racing gear, we headed our way an hour's drive north to the Seven Oaks Recreation complex near Boone amidst torrential rainfalls.

Once we arrived at the transition area (aka: the parking lot), the rain graciously subsided enough for us to erect our large canopy tent under which we busily set about making final preparations and gear tweaks. Race check-in and gear-check promptly began at 8AM, then it was back to any last minute tasks. We had been instructed to stage our bikes at the top of the ski slope, and completed this with ample time to spare. A few local teams we knew stopped by and we exchanged the usual "good luck" and "be careful out there". But conversations quickly moved to the weather and ultimately what courses we might be taking. You see, with adventure racing, anything goes. Literally.

This type of team sport combines a variety of disciplines, or skills, in any order the race director sees fit. These might include any of the following: orienteering/navigation, mountain biking (singletrack and gravel), running, paddling, climbing/rappeling, and a host of other mystery challenges tossed in for good measure along the way. Throughout the race your team is tasked with locating checkpoints (CPs), which are either manned with race personnel or unmanned with only a signature punching device. No two races are ever the same, and you won't typically learn what your race will contain until the race begins. Also, races aren't normally measured in distances, though some early information normally offered up will give teams a chance to make some adequate preparations. Instead, they are measured in hours or days. While this day's particular race was roughly considered a "sprint" race (6-8 hours), we have been in races that have lasted days. Training and preparation there is crucial. Seriously…try spending eight hours in a canoe on a large river system, force yourself to mountain bike 40-60 miles of gnarly singletrack, then navigate through the Ozark mountains at night. Let's just say, this sport is not normally considered for the faint of heart. And, though the race be small, today would be no exception.

Lining up for the start of the race, each team's set of maps/instructions were secretly stashed in the captain's backpack and groups of two (teams consisted of 2-4 person teams) were tied together three-legged style for, what looked to be, a mad dash up the muddy ski slope to the top of the long hill. Only after the official "go" sounded were we able to tear into the instructions. At that moment, we learned we would need to simply race on foot up the hill to where our bikes were staged, then navigate through 6-7 miles of muddy backwoods singletrack back to the transition area (TA) for the next leg of the race. Quickly stashing the maps and papers into my waterproof mapcase hanging around my neck, we all wildly dashed up the slope. Easier said than done. Each step tied together had to be precisely timed, since any slip in the mud only brought us done to our knees. Finally getting our timing down to an art, Bryce and I made quick work of the hill and released our tie strap from our ankles just as our other team group arrived. Stowing the straps in our packs, we ran to the bike transition area and mounted up for what would later be considered the ride of our lives.

Following the trail along the upper rim of the ski slope, we entered the backwoods with a few other teams, only about 3-4 teams back from the leaders. We didn't need to travel much more than a few yards in before realizing that these trails were unfortunately clogged with the worst tire-sucking mud we'd ever encountered. You could only ride about 5-10 meters before you either came upon a section of trail that was unrideable or was washed out completely. A few scant areas we found manageable along the way allowed us to run with our bikes along the trail, but they didn't appear often. The climax of this harrowing section occurred roughly 3-4 miles along the winding trails, when the chain snapped off Mark's bike. A quick inspection in the rain and mud found the chain to be fixable. However, after 20 minutes of attempting to rejoin the links proved impossible, we instead decided to ride/push the bike out to the TA area where we would have additional tools. Of course, the next few miles of singletrack between us and there proved to be the toughest, as we continued to slog back and forth up the narrow and twisting switchbacks until we finally reached the summit. Pushing off from the crest of the hill near the ski lift, we rode the mud all the way to the bottom where we were suprisingly greeted by race management with a garden hose. Thankfully, we used this to quickly wash off the additional 10-20 pounds of caked mud both our bikes and ourselves had picked up during the past two and a half hours of racing. Once the broken bike was washed off, and we could actually see what we were fixing, we ran to our transition tent. Using his superior bike talents, Van managed to remove two full links from the chain and proceeded to bash the remaining pin back into the chain with a rock from the parking lot. We were off again.

Heading out of the TA on bike, we hopped over to the opposite side of Hwy 30 and traveled east for a mile to where the next challenge awaited us…the canoeing and portaging section of the race. Originally, we learned, the race had intended to send teams down the Des Moines River, but then reconsidered after the past week's worth of rain had swollen the waterway past emergency specifications. So, instead, we were tasked with paddling a large gravel pit area while obtaining a single checkpoint punch. Sounds easy, until you factor in that you had to bring your bikes WITH you during this portion. That's where the those straps from the three-legged race come in. With two persons to a canoe, the trick is you each lay your bikes down over the middle thwart, or horizontal crossbeam, so that the top bike lays opposite on top of the other. You have to find the sweet spot in order to get them to balance each other, otherwise your canoe will be too heavy on one side and you'll tip. Then tie both top tubes to the thwart using the strap...voila! Of course, then trying to get said canoe down a steep 12-foot embankment to the water without losing anything was another unique challenge in itself, but we both managed and off we went gliding through the waters. Crossing a smaller body of water, we soon learned the only route to the larger body where the CP was located involved a 200-250 meter portage through rough terrain. So, off came the bikes, and a couple of trips were made through the woods to the next water section. Finally, after dropping back down into the water and a few long minutes of hasty paddling, we spotted our flag punch among the tall weeds. We quickly grabbed it just as another 4-person mens team entered the scene. Then we made quick work of covering the final quarter mile of waterway, putting some distance between us and the other team there, and a bit of additional portaging before we were back on our bikes heading towards downtown Boone.

After heading up a long uphill portion of Old Hwy 30 into the west outskirts of Boone, and now over three hours already into our race, we scouted our route for a convenience store where we could purchase a little Mt. Dew refreshment fuel for Van. Little did we know, but we would also have the chance to pick the brain of a local who knew the area better than we. Our race instructions had told us we needed to locate a challenge site in a particular city park. However, like most adventure races, it didn't give us explicit directions on which roadways we needed to take. Finding a rundown bait shop, with an overly-talkative owner, we soon exited without the soda but with directions needed to find a relatively unknown backroad into the park. At least it would save us a few extra minutes of searching. Carrying on, we rode paceline-style for a few miles, including a long stretch through a few quaint but populated city streets. I'm sure the pedestrians there were quite shocked to see our motley group of individuals; wet and entirely covered with mud from the past few hours of intense off-road racing. However we didn’t care, as our turn into the park quickly came up and we returned to game-on mode again.

The special park event ended up being a team memory challenge. Arriving at our destination, we were greeted again by friendly and enthusiastic race personnel who then directed us over to new vehicle deposited there by the main sponsor of the race, Toyota. Our instructions were to pore over the vehicle, an 2008 FJ Cruiser, and memorize as many minute details as we could...from the sales sticker all the way down to the VIN number...apparently, anything was game. The, once we were ready, we biked further on to another location where we were quizzed on perhaps a dozen features we had seen. Things like, MSRP price, options, mileage, etc. Luckily, the only incorrect answers we had were true or false-related, so to fix the answer was quick (the alternative being having to return to the vehicle again). We then dropped our bikes for the next leg of the race.

This next challenge involved carrying logs and brush piles approximately 250-300 meters. Though some of these logs were huge, luckily we were still feeling somewhat fresh and we pulled this off in faster fashion than we thought. Finishing up, we were handed yet another map and set of instructions which detailed an orienteering section through the wooded portions of the large park we were currently in. Orienteering, or as some people commonly refer to as navigating, is a skill every team needs to be good at. It involves the use of a topographical map and a compass to help locate checkpoints throughout an expansive area. Typically, the area is a heavily wooded portion with considerable elevation changes. The park we happened to be in wasn't pronouncably (is that a word?) hilly, but it did have some reentrant or ravine systems that could easily make racers think twice about any intended path. Confidently, we set off in a northerly direction to find the first CP. After a hike, we collected the punch and proceeded to run a muddy access road south for a while until an open meadow showed us the location of the next flag. From there, it was up a long steep hill up and back into the woods for a series of winding trails and brush-hacking until we had located each of the eight mandatory checkpoints. The final being situated across a large, and deep, divide that took a little effort. Then a quick run back north to the bike transition area and on to our final challenge...golf?

We had been given instructions to follow the main road south out of Boone, down to a popular country club a few miles away. There we found our next challenge sitting on the tee-off area. The race official proceeded to explain that the challenge was to hit a golf ball approximately 100 meters into a couple of hula hoops laying on the fairway. For each ball we hit into the hoops, our team would have 30 seconds deducted from our final overall time. At five balls each, that calculated to a free 10 minutes...couldn't be easier, right? Wrong. Right-handers had to use left-handed clubs, and vise-versa. Say what? Okay, I'm not admitting I could hit the ball with the proper club in the first place (actually, I can't), but using the opposite club only compounded the problem for each of us. In the end, the closest we came was only 20 feet away from a hoop, and we had wasted over 10 minutes doing so. Groan...oh well, it was fun at least.

Receiving our final instructions to utilize a specific winding and hilly gravel road to our south in order to head back to the main transition area, we jumped onto the bikes for the final push home. Strategically placed, this particular road had a rather gruesome hill that sapped much of what little strength we had left. Conveniently, I had brought along a bike-towing system that allowed me to tow Van, whose knees were beginning to feel painful at this point. Finding the last CP along the way, we came out onto Hwy 30 in a driving rain and turned west for the long and fast downhill coast across the Des Moines River and back into Seven Oaks park. There, race officials had created a makeshift finish line (the wind and rain kept them constantly running for cover) and we proudly wheeled over the finish line in unison…a full six hours and 19 minutes after this creative race had begun.

All told, the rough estimates show we raced a total of: 7 miles muddy singletrack biking, 1.5 miles paddling/portaging, 4-5 miles orienteering, 15-16 miles gravel/paved biking, and only about 2 miles of actual running.

As we pushed our bikes back to our transition tent, we were greeted loudly by a wet group of family and friends who provided congratulations and some much-needed hugs. They were a great set of troopers who had followed and cheered us on, literally, from start to finish the entire way. We cannot express how appreciative we were that they braved the storms and weather that day just to see us race together. To be completely honest, it just isn't a race unless someone's there to experience it with you.

Finding our way into the ski chalet, we found the building relatively empty except for a team or two trying to seek shelter from the constant rain outside. Apparently, only a handful of the 41 registered teams had finished so far. We set about doing our best to clean ourselves up, and soon found some comfortable chairs to relax into and chat about our race experience, as our kids released their pent up energies by chasing each other around. A while later, after numerous cookies and watermellon slices, the race director approached and apologized that there wouldn't be a post-race ceremony due to the amount of teams still out on the course. She informed us that we had finished 10th overall and congratulated our team for being in the top three teams for the 4-person mens category, then handed each of us a 2nd-place finisher plaque. You mean to tell us we just medaled at the Iowa Games?? We had raced our hearts completely out, and even though we had an hour of cumulative downtime due to a broken chain incident early on, we'd still managed to finish on the podium. Just incredible…those results made us all completely humbled!

I have raced in countless adventure races, but this particular race will go down as one of the favorites, if not also the muddiest race ever, I've participated in. Just the experience of the gnarly singletrack alone, where the mud was so bad the tires on our bikes wouldn't even turn, was rewarding enough. You only typically see that type of action on advanced, multi-day races. And I couldn't have found better teammates anywhere…each of these guys were extremely awesome. I'm looking forward to our next adventurous escapade -- ahem, this year possibly?! -- when we can combine our talent, skills, knowledge, and eagerness to go that extra mile again for and with one another again.

So, what have I learned? Well, here's some quick post-race advice...

• Do carry an extra bike chain in your transition gear, or at least a master replacement link or two in your bike pouch...odds are you'll need it one day.
  
  
• Don't ski down muddy trail hills on your feet while holding onto your bike next to you...it's just as terrifying if you ride it all the way down in the first place.
  
  
• Do practice your golf strokes with alternative-handed clubs...it may come in handy in some weird adventure challenge someday.
  
  
• Don't navigate through the woods in early summer without long trekking pants while the poison ivy is thick and waist high...just don't do it.
  
  
• Do race the hardest you can, as far as you can, for as long as you can, with your best friends...the experience IS priceless.

Monday Run-Down

Decided to update the title of my usual Monday mind-dump to something with more of a running theme...thought run-down was worthy.

• Well, I ended up biking in for Bike To Work Week on Tuesday…a roundtrip total of 42 miles. While it offered a nice, serene ride, it was also exciting as I ended up sharing the experience with six or so deer along the way. A couple were trail-hogs. It made for a great opportunity to spend some additional training time on the bike in anticipation of an adventure race coming up this next month.
  
  
• The final night for The ROCK youth group is Wednesday. We're taking the kids out for an old fashioned scavenger hunt around the city…basically deciphering clues which will then take us to certain locations where they need to answer a trivia question about the location. Looking forward to an awesome time...realizing this is our last night. Sigh. Need to talk with Jon about how I can get involved over the summer.
  
  
• Read this totally incredible blog from US marathon runner Josh Cox recounting a 50-mile race he once had…you have to check this out. Wow, how true it is that we need to learn to speak His words? He is so much bigger than we give Him credit for.
  
  
• Whew...it seems the days are already beginning to ramp up with activities, and it's not even summer yet! Praying for some extra peace, a little patience, and more time. Just feeling a bit strung out.

hy·dra·tion

hy·dra·tion, [hī-ˈdrā-shən] noun: the act or process of combining or treating with water in order to restore or maintain fluid balance; the quality or state of being or becoming hydrated, to restate balance.

I went for a run during my lunch today. It was around 40 degrees outside, heavily overcast and hinted at possible showers...all conditions I normally love to run in. Of course, I pondered the thought of changing the workout into an inside weight routine (not hoping for a cold to develop before my NYC trip), but I'm typically a glutton for punishment anyway so I grabbed my vest and running hat and headed out the door. Crossing over the river and into East Village, the tiny droplets inevitably began to fall; a few a first, then a steady stream followed. I pulled the brim of my hat down a bit lower and tucked my arms in closer to hopefully lessen my ability of being a direct target, but then realized the attempt was pointless. It didn't just shower, it rained...hard. Midway through my run, I faced the normal decision of turning back towards my downtown starting point or extending my outing by a few additional miles around Grays Lake. Again, my adventurous spirit took over and I plodded off down the wet trail in search of extra mileage, not willing to end this unique run so soon. By then I had become so accustomed to the cold and windy rain that I just let my feet carry me onward, while allowing my mind to wander.

I began thinking about this Thursday's Runner's Lounge topic on hydration. Though I am most assuredly no expert on the subject, I feel I do know a bit about hydration and its effects from my years of adventure racing. In that type of an event, you ultimately need to be quite sure of a few things come race day. That is: 1) that you are properly hydrated before the race even begins, 2) that you carry adequate hydration with you throughout the course, and 3) that you exercise proper fluid intake at predetermined intervals to achieve optimal athletic performance. We developed this practice where one of us teammates would set the timer of his/her watch to sound off once every 20 minutes, then we'd each take a nominal drink of fluid to help stave off any inklings of dehydration. I can remember back once, during the long biking portion of a sweltering 30+ hour race we were in, when a teammate of mine neglected this simple ritual and his body literally just shut down. Fortunately for him, we were near a farmhouse and were able to quickly find the assistance we needed. It was such a simple example of how crucial hydration is...and how without it the body can easily become unbalanced in many ways.

Okay, getting back to my run through the rain today. In allowing my mind to meander, I realized yet another type of hydration that we often do not consider. Okay, you know how some days are just so busy being filled with things to do, places to go, that they literally make your head spin, all the while wishing for that one rainy day when we can call in sick, just so we can stay at home and push the pause button on the remote of life, allowing ourselves that simple but rare moment of recharge? I've had those days. Well, running through the rain I remembered how hydration is not just important for my body, but how it is also essential for my spirit and soul. I guess I'm not talking about hydration as being the type of fluids you intake, but more like it being literally anything that allows you to become balanced, as in that shift or influence that helps enable us back into a sense of balance? You see, something that motivates you can also "hydrate" you.

Hydration for me is one of many things, one of which is running. It's funny how I can find enjoyment running outside in the cold rain, but I can. It's something I realize I like to do, that possibly many others do not find comfort in. Possibly I take joy in knowing it makes me unique. I also enjoy playing with my kids, even when they're jumping off the "high ropes" of the couch onto dear 'ole dad below. They and my wife both give me the insight and ability to ground myself in these ever-demanding days. If it weren't for them, I know my days would be just a blur. And just last night, I took a step outside my comfort zone and signed on to become a leader on our church youth leadership team. It was an awesome and humbling time hanging with those kids, not only from being totally owned in dodgeball (I have a few paypacks to deliver next week) but also from seeing their open minds and hearts yearning for attention and answers. Now, that really re-hydrates me.

I suppose hydration can easily be about the flavor of Gatorade you drink after a long run, or the complex fueling strategy you may have for your next race. But it's not just about the carbohydrates...it's about you. Consider for once how hydration can also have an effect on who you are and what you're made of.

We all need hydrating sometimes. What's your hydration method?

Ten Golden Rules

Alberto Salazar is one of the greats. He knows a thing or two about this sport called running. A former world-record holder in the marathon, and three-time winner of the NYC event, Salazar has learned many of his lessons the hard way. The famously competitive runner's body broke down at age 27, as a result of years of superhuman, 150-mile training weeks. In fact, he was once read his last rites after crossing a finish line with a 108-degree fever. Let's just say he'd be an interesting training partner.

Just this past summer, he survived a near-fatal heart attack. Now, fully recovered, the 49-year-old coach of Nike's Oregon Project is pairing cutting-edge technology with meticulous workouts to shape the most promising crop of American running hopefuls in a generation. This is a man who has almost given his life to the sport on multiple occasions.

Fortunately, he's lived to share a few pieces of essential wisdom ... his Ten Golden Rules of Running:

BE CONSISTENT - Find a training plan that you can stick to long-term. If you can run four days a week, every week, you are going to get 90 percent of the benefits of training seven days a week.

TAKE RECOVERY DAYS SERIOUSLY - The day after a tough workout, the most you want to do is jog lightly or do some form of cross-training, like cycling. You need a recovery day after a hard day. No exceptions.

INCREASE MILEAGE GRADUALLY - Do not increase your weekly mileage by more than 10 percent every month. No matter how good you feel, be very gradual. You won't know until it's too late that you're overdoing it.

STAY ON THE TRAIL - Pavement damages joints, tendons, ligaments, and muscles. The more you can run on grass, wood chips, or dirt, the better off you are.

RUN FASTER - It's hard to race faster than you train. However fast you want to run a race, you've got to do some shorter intervals (aka: speed work) at least that fast.

STRENGTHEN YOUR WHOLE BODY - Good runners condition their whole bodies. The arms drive the legs. Keep your upper body and core toned with a lot of push-ups, pull-ups, sit-ups, and back raises (don't forget that the back is part of the core).

WEAR THE RIGHT SHOES - The second-most-common cause of injuries, next to running too much on hard surfaces, is foot pronation and shoe instability. The more you run, the more support your foot needs.

PERFECT YOUR FORM - Every motion your body makes should propel you directly forward. If your arms are crossing or you are overstriding, you're losing force. Your posture should be straight, and your striding foot should land directly underneath you.

EMBRACE TECHNOLOGY - If you don't have enough knowledge behind what you're doing, you're not going to run well or you're going to injure yourself. With the Internet, GPS phones, advanced heart-rate monitors, and even your iPod, you now can be coached individually, even while you run. Use the knowledge and tools that are out there.

And, perhaps, my most favorite:

TACKLE DOUBT HEAD-ON - At some point you're going to push yourself harder, you're going to enter into a gray area that can be painful, and you're going to doubt yourself. Push through it. Never think you are mentally weak.

Falling in Running Love, Again

At first, you couldn't get enough of each other. The grass was greener, the sky was bluer, there was a bounce in your step. You were running on air. But as the weeks turned into months, and the months dragged into years, things changed. One day, it hits you: you've lost that spark. You're going through the motions. The thrill, as they say, is gone. So where did things go wrong? And more important, can you rekindle the flame?

I'm talking about our love for running here, folks. And your relationship with your running, just like most relationships, takes work. Here are some ideas to keep your love alive:

Respect. Running is wonderful, but if you don't respect its power, it can lash out in painful ways. Acknowledge the rigors of the sport, as well as your own limits. Translation: Don't over-reach. If the farthest you've ever run is 8 miles, don't attempt a half-marathon tomorrow. If you're accustomed to running every other day, don't go daily all at once. Show running the respect it deserves, and it will treat you right.

Spontaneity. Familiarity doesn't have to breed contempt. You know all those vacation days you've amassed? Why not use one some random weekday, and go for a long, relaxed run? Sleep in a bit and hit your favorite trail or route while everybody else is stuck at work.

Quality Time. Too many runners heap on the miles, setting themselves up to see running as nothing more than a number in the logbook. No wonder they fall out of love...what kind of relationship is that? Learn to spend time deeply breathing in the sweet spring air, watching a flock of geese winging overhead, marveling at the sheer physics of human locomotion. It'll beat miles of head-down slogging any day.

Flexibility. Not the touch-your-toes variety. We're talking about the give-and-take that is necessary for any relationship to survive. If your expectations are rigid, sooner or later something will break-most likely your spirit. Not only that, but adhering to your training schedule too obsessively may leave your priorities all out of whack. Running should bend to accommodate your life-not vice versa. If you're feeling crummy, be flexible enough to allow yourself a day without running.

Appreciation. Let's face it, our love for running is full of ups and downs. Some find themselves plagued by series of injuries along the way, while still others lose enthusiasm. Whatever it may be that keeps you from hitting the trail at times, remember to appreciate it for what it is, even if you're not out there. Running, essentially, is freedom. It's your chance to get away, to reconnect, to focus or unwind. It helps us stay healthy and fit, many times encouraging us to push the envelope, but to also remember our limitations. And sometimes, it just teaches us to be humble and know we are human. For some it is as simple as answering the age-old question of why: "Because I can."

Spread the Love. Every relationship is a two-way street, and the more you put into it, the more you'll get out. There are plenty of ways to "give something back" to the running community. From volunteering at a local race, to assisting your local high school cross-country coach, to encouraging a sedentary friend to join you for a short weekly jog. You'll feel better about yourself, and being around new runners will rejuvenate your own love for the sport.

So what are we left with? The initial thrill of the beginning runner inevitably fades. You can't stay gaga forever. The good news is that beneath the infatuation is something even better, more mature, and ultimately more rewarding-a love that will sustain you for years to come.

- Runner's World