In November 2008, my friend Jay and I completed the Richmond Marathon. It was the first for each of us, and a successful culmination of a 16-week training program to get us across the finish line. The goal of our program was to simply complete the marathon, not in any particular time, but just to complete it. Among the many sights along the course in Richmond, was the shirt of an older gentleman that proclaimed he was 'Larry' of the '50 State Marathon Club'. He was an inspiring and humbling sight. Jay and I finished in 5:56:57 and were both happy just to have completed the race before the course would have closed after 7 hours. Having assumed at the time that running one marathon would be enough to check that off my 'bucket list', I was a bit surprised when, within an hour of our finish, Jay said, "I bet we could do better".

The idea of running a marathon was not a recently found fascination for me. As a kid, I read both of Jim Fixx's books from the late '70s that helped to spur the increasing popularity of recreational running. And I referenced the first book extensively in a grade school report I wrote titled 'The Marathon'. My mother and I gave the second book to my Dad for Father's Day in 1980, and in the inscription I wrote, "Dad, We're gonna run a marathon by 1983, so start reading!" So I was off by 25 years on that prediction, but clearly the idea stuck.

Jay's suggestion that we could do better stuck as well, and just less than a year after Richmond I ran my second Marathon in Baltimore, where I beat my goal of breaking five hours with 10 minutes to spare. Done, right? No. Earlier in the summer the Surf City Marathon in my hometown of Huntington Beach, CA called out to me, and when Jay said he'd like to do it too, we signed ourselves up and ran it in February. A trip home is always nice, and I shaved a whole 24 seconds off of my Baltimore time, and we brought back some excellent surfboard medals for our effort. And then, just six weeks later I found myself in Virginia Beach running in the Shamrock Marathon, in which I ran with an orange beard, fell short of my goal time or a PR, but was consoled by some fine Yuengling Lager's provided by the race sponsor.

Last July there was an article in Runner's World about a man named Larry Macon. Larry earned himself a spot in the Guinness Book of World Records for having completed 105 Marathons in a single year. It turned out that this was the same Larry that Jay and I had run behind for a good portion in Richmond (he finished a minute and 42 seconds ahead of us). I'll certainly never challenge Larry's record. And it's unlikely I'll ever be a member of that 50-state club. But I do believe I'll keep running marathons, maybe one or two a year, hopefully in different cities; Chicago, New York, Philadelphia, Dublin, OBX... so many choices. Running down the middle of closed streets with thousands of other runners is a truly unique way to see city.

Today I registered for the Marine Corp Marathon which will be run next Halloween. This one is really the DC area's premiere marathon, and so a must do for any local marathoner (To the 50-stater rules, it counts as a Virginia race since it starts and finishes in that state, despite being run mostly in DC, so it does nothing to help me advance towards that membership and I already have two Virginia marathons now). The Marine Corp Marathon sells out quickly each year, so I was happy I got in. And this afternoon I learned some more good news, my running buddy Jay is registered as well!

Yesterday I ran the Baltimore Marathon. It was my second Marathon, and won't be my last as I'm already signed up to run the Surf City Marathon in my hometown of Huntington Beach, California next February. Not quite a year ago in Richmond, my friend Jay and I accomplished our goal of running a marathon and we completed a 16-week training program to reach the goal of just finishing the race. During long runs in those weeks of training, Jay and I would frequently comment that if we reached our goal of completing our first marathon, it would certainly also be our last. And yet, within hours of completing that goal (we finished in 5:56:57), Jay was saying, "We could do better", and the thought of doing another was planted.

Among the things that I really enjoyed about running Richmond was that it was a great way to see a city. How often can you tour a city, with police stopping traffic so that you can run down the middle of major roads, and with cheering fans lining the course offering high-fives, snacks, and beer? It is truly a unique experience, and the thought of taking such a running tour of other cities holds great appeal to me. Some marathoners pursue the goal of running a marathon in all 50 states. I don't know that I'll go that far, but I've learned to not rule anything out either.

My Runner's World magazine, a Christmas gift from my wife following last year's marathon, brings a monthly dose of motivation, and advertisements for marathons across the country. And from those ads, Baltimore stood out, mostly for being relatively nearby, and in July I made the commitment and registered for the race, along with friends and family who were going to run the Half-Marathon and the 5k.

I set my goal for Baltimore at 5 hours, an hour faster than Richmond, where just finishing had been the only goal. In a previous half-marathon and a 10-miler, I had found success at reaching my goal times by creating a Pace Tag which I pinned to my shirt to keep me on track. Having goal splits handy makes every single mile a race of it's own. Make those mile splits, and you'll reach the goal time for the whole race. To reach my 5 hour goal time in Baltimore required a pace of 11:27 per mile. That's a very easy pace when doing shorter training runs, but I had no idea if I could maintain it for all 26.2 marathon miles.

Happily, I found that I could. And my day-after geek came out today wanting to compare my actual performance with the goal pace I had established. The below table shows my goal pace, goal time, actual splits, pace difference, actual time, and actual difference. Where I am ahead of my goal pace, the number is in green, and where I am behind my goal pace, the number is in red.

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The race started uphill for the first 3.5 miles (see the elevation chart) As you can see I started steady and just ahead of pace and from miles 3 - 14 was enjoying the long downhill and running almost a minute ahead of my pace. By the time I had completed 16 miles, I was a almost 16 minutes ahead of my goal pace. There was a really great street party going on at mile 16, and at mile 17 I ran past the home of friends Phi and Sean, who lived up to their promise of having a mimosa waiting for me. By this point in the race I had eaten bananas, an orange, potato chips, pretzels, gold fish, vanilla power gel (gross), Skittles, and of course lots of water and Gatorade. But that mimosa went down better than any of it. Sean warned me that I was about to head into a not so great neighborhood, and suggested this knowledge may encourage me to pick up my pace (The Baltimore Sun had likewise been thoughtful enough to share information about where the marathon route intersected the worse areas of crime in the city). So I lost a minute enjoying that mimosa, and headed into the second hilly portion of the course, and as you can see, I began falling behind my goal pace, happily not by much, and not by enough to get behind the time I had banked in the first 16 miles. Miles 20 - 23 were the hardest, running around Lake Montebello, but then the course leveled and the long downhill to the finish line at the Inner Harbor began. The crowd grows, the cheers get louder, someone always seems to be offering a beer by this point, and the knowledge that the finish line is within reach provides a finishing surge. Jennifer, Colleen, and the neighborhood gals who had completed their 5k hours earlier were there at the end to see me finish, and I ended up right behind Jay who was finishing his half-marathon (he'll join me again for his second marathon in February).

An explanation for the 5 minutes that this chart says it took me to run the final two-tenths of a mile, I promise I did not drop off that much. As I ran, I found an increasing gap between the point at which my Garmin was telling me I had hit a mile point, and the actual mile-marker for the race. First it was a tenth of a mile, eventually a quarter mile, and by the end my watch fully three tenths of a mile ahead of the actual mile markers. My only explanation is that the accumulated drifting from side to side along the race course added this extra distance. So the splits in this chart reflect my Garmin time, while the final result of 4:50:26 was my official race chip time. I forgot to stop the timer on my Garmin until I was in the chute after finishing, collecting my medal and a drink, but when I did it had my time at 4:51:20 for a distance of 26.56 miles.

Thanks Baltimore for the great running weather (overcast with some light rain, felt great), great fan support, and mostly to my family and friends who have turned running into an activity at which we motivate, participate, and celebrate together.

With 15 days to go until the Baltimore Marathon, it is clearly time for me to get some new running shoes. I've read that prior to a marathon you should replace your current shoes with an identical pair three weeks prior to the race, and also that you should run a Marathon in shoes that haveless than 100 miles on them.

I bought my current running shoes almost a year ago, in advance of running the Richmond Marathon last November. I have logged 83 runs while wearing them, for a total of 516.96 miles. If you Google the question, "How many miles should a pair of running shoes last?", you'll find a general consensus among the answers you'll find that they should last between 300 - 500 miles. So I have to feel good about the mileage that I got out of these shoes, and confident that it is in fact time for a new pair.

I was the easiest sale of the day on my fast lunch hour jaunt to The Virginia Runner, and I was in and out in no time with a shiny new pair of Adidas Supernova Classic running shoes. The only difference from my two previous pairs was that the color scheme is now yellow/black/white instead of blue/grey/white. They feel great.

And as happy as I am with my new shoes, and looking forward to running two marathons and many miscellaneous miles in the in the months ahead, I've recently read a number of articles that point to our fancy running shoes as the root of all running evil!

And today I began reading the book, Born To Run by Christopher McDougall, for which I had ready a very good review in The Washington Post, and caught the author's August visit to The Daily Show. I have yet to complete the book, but I've gathered enough already to know that it will make a case that running shoes do our feet more harm than good. I'm interested to learn more.

But I'm not ready to go running in naked feet just yet. Besides, if running shoes are bad for us, surely so must running shorts and shirts be. So look for me to take up naked running, maybe next year. For now, I have this song stuck in my head. Hopefully I can outrun it.

for further reading...

You Walk Wrong
New York Magazine, 4/21/08

Foot Loose (review of Vibram Five Fingers Shoes)
Runner's World, 8/15/08

To Run Better, Start by Ditching Your Nikes
Wired Magazine, 7/10/2009

Barefoot running gains toehold on respectability
The Baltimore Sun, 9/22/09

Each issue of 'Runner's World' magazine, a read I've been enjoying since taking up running again a year ago, ends with an interview with a generally well-known figure; athletes, actors, politicians and such. These interviews are called 'I'm A Runner', and I enjoy reading them and learning of this lifestyle that I've embraced and have in common with these individuals.

This week, the August issue of Runner's World came out, and the subject of the 'I'm a Runner' interview was Sara Palin. I enjoyed the interview and was impressed to learn of her having run a sub 4-hour marathon, or that she will still venture out to run in 20-below temperatures (although this reinforces my belief that she is also bat-shit crazy).

The interview made some minor buzz, because in it she claimed she could beat Obama in a race due to her higher endurance. A soft political jab at worst that got mentioned at the next briefing by White House Press Secretary Robert Gibbs. Maybe she could, it doesn't matter. I'm still glad to have a bodysurfer (and smart person) in the White House.

But despite political differences, the interview reminded me that their are things that can connect us despite our differences; political, religious, or whatever. I wouldn't want to join her on a run, because according to her interview, she prefers to run as a solitary activity, as do I most of the time. I had a similar reaction recently when I found I had a new Twitter follower. A look at her profile showed her to be a Communications Director of an county-level GOP party in Indiana. So why would she have any interest in my occasional Dem rants? A closer look showed she was a Cubs fan, and that was likely the connection that led her to me. Hobbies, sports, music, alma maters... all provide reasons to sometimes ignore a larger difference (for a moment at least), and recognize these things we do have in common.

Don't get me wrong. Politically, I loathe Sarah Palin. Her selection as McCain's running mate was a desperate, but doomed attempt to change the dynamics of the race. Over the course of the campaign, she repeatedly demonstrated herself to be clueless on the issues, and little more than an attractive and expensively dressed windbag shouting nonsense about Obama 'pal-ing around with terrorists'. But I enjoyed learning she's a runner, and admire her stated appreciation and ability at the sport.

An hour ago, news broke that Palin has announced she will resign her position of Governor of Alaska by the end of this month, and won't be seeking re-election in 2010. Many speculate that she is doing so in anticipation of running for President in 2012. She would be not running for Governor in 2010, to allow her to run for President in 2012. That will be worth quite a few laughs in the years to come.

So keep on running Sarah. When for office, I'll oppose. But when for the joy and exercise of the activity itself, I wish you the best. Break a leg! :-)

Last month, when entering a run in my running diary, I noticed an anniversary was approaching. One year ago today, I put on a pair of crappy sneakers and set out on a run. It was a Thursday morning, and I did a three mile loop in 45 minutes. My doctor had told me that I could afford to drop 20-pounds, and I thought I'd do some running in addition to the weight training I also started doing.

I hadn't run since high school, at least not without being chased. I had done a few 5 & 10ks, and my longest run had been a 10-miler around the Newport Beach Back Bay. I read Jim Fixx's book, The Complete Book of Running, and shared with my father an idea that maybe we'd do a marathon one day. But that dream got shelved and forgotten for 25 years.

But a year ago, at age 43, I took up running again, and a year later, I'm still at it. Time to reflect, why have I stuck with it and what good has it done me?

Keeping a running diary has played a very major role in my running. I was fortunate to find a great Mac program, TrailRunner, for logging and mapping my runs and maintaining a diary. I recommend it highly to anyone. Not only is the program great, but the developer is very responsive to help requests and is constantly improving what is already a great program. And it's because of that diary that I can report that in the last year I've headed outside to run 123 times, and covered a total of 652.45 miles. I also recently added a Garmin Forerunner 305r

I read somewhere that the difference between a jogger and a runner is the 'entry form'. I've certainly found that a looming race provides much needed motivation. In the last year I've run two 5k's, a 10-miler, two Half-Marathon's (1,2), and last November in Richmond, completed a Marathon with my friend Jay. The picture above shows us running in the final mile, joined by our kids. That was definitely a highlight.

I've been chased by big snarling dogs in Vermont, and out-paced by my boss in NYC's Central Park. I ran to the top of the hill in Kitty Hawk that the Wright Brother's launched their gliders from, and the country roads of Central Illinois. I've run along the shore of Lady Bird Lake in Austin, and Cherry Creek in Denver.

I lost the 20 pounds, and two toe nails (they came back, hopefully the weight won't). And for every time that I find myself asking what the hell I'm doing, lifting legs that feel like sandbags, there is usually a nice Forrest Gump moment to capture the quiet peace and beauty of just running through your surroundings. It took until last year for me to figure out what IS chasing me... age. Hopefully my running will keep me just a few steps ahead of it.

We're scoreless here at NGP's office outing to the Braves @ Nats game.  The Nat's mascot, Screech, just blew his beak in our Cubs blanket, so I had to kick his ass. Regardless, Go Nats!

Still, it's hard. There are probably fewer teams that take more crap than the Cubs. Their 100-year championship drought is the biggest monkey on the back of any team in baseball (so screw you Indians and your measly 60-years!). Last year's pre-election SNL special is a good example, watch this debate bit and keep an eye out for Cub-fan Bill Murray's question. Or this headline from this weeks copy of The Onion, Cubs To Continue Tradition Of Playing Baseball. Ouch!

Well, as I sit here at home, Cub flag flying outside in the dark, watching the Cubs winning 3-0 in their season opener against the Astros, I invite all detractors to just keep it coming. I had very high hopes for last year. Now I'm thinking, maybe this year. And failing that, I'll repeat baseball's timeless refrain, 'Wait until next year!'.

Update: Cubs win their season opener, 4-2.

I was no stand-out as a little leaguer. I had my moments in the outfield, catching a pop-up here and there. But my greatest defensive contribution was probably my effective chatter (hey-batta-batta, schWING!), while on offense my Eddie Gaedel size strike zone put me on base with a walk much more often than my bat ever did.

But on this particular Thursday night, I had a fine sports moment. My team, the Orioles, had a one run lead going into the final inning. There were two outs and the Phillies had a runner on third. The batter hit a fast grounder that might have been an easy game-ender, had it not got past our first basemen. But it did, and it instead rolled to me in right field (the traditional position for the most skilled little leaguers, naturally).

It would have been understandable to hear a few sighs from our meager crowd of parents, looking at the prospect of extra innings should the runner on third score and tie the game (were there more runners on base? I don't remember, let's say there were and two runs would have meant a loss). The play was at home, and I made the throw to our catcher 'Tank', and it somehow got there in time and on target. The runner was out at home, game over, Orioles win 11-10.

In the dugout, the coach asked the team, "Who gets the game ball?", to which they responded in unison, "Casey!". In recent years I've re-discovered a love of baseball that I haven't had since those days as a little leaguer. From my five or six years of little league baseball, there are only a few such memories. This was one of the best.

Update: DAMN! Cubs lost, 2-0. It was a sad game, but still a good day out at the ballpark.