After having taken some time away from my campaign in order to participate in the Blackberry Curve Urban Challenge Grand Finale event in San Francisco (as discussed briefly in my last post) I am ready to get back to my primary mission of the year: Running in honor of our soldiers. Next week I will be participating in two 5-mile races; the 25th Annual POW-MIA Race for Freedom in South Boston and the 4th of July Minuteman Classic in Concord, MA both of which pay tribute to the soldiers who have risked everything for this country.

Since my normal running schedule had been so upset through all of my recent travels, my regular blood donation (every 8-10 weeks), and my first 100 mile week (thanks to the Western States Training Camp) I tested myself last weekend with a local race; the Auburndale Community of Newton, MA "Rove the Cove 5k". This race provided me an opportunity to gauge my current capabilities in a shorter (i.e.. faster) race while also helping my friend Alain promote his series of race events that directly conflict with the POW-MIA Race for Freedom and my work shift at Karma Yoga Studio next Sunday by distributing flyers for the Boloco Heartbreak Hill Grand Prixand wearing his race shirt. It doesn't hurt that I am also a huge fan of the Boloco burritos and smoothies.

Well, I found that I can still run in the low 6-minute range over varying terrain on a hot and humid day so my race performances should be fine next week. Now I just have to figure out how to get out to Concord in time for the start of the race on July 4, since my wife will have the car for her residency at Tanglewood, the Train doesn't run early enough, the buses aren't running, and I don't necessarily want to run the 15 miles each way to race for 5 more. Maybe I can borrow a bicycle.

I can't believe that it has been nearly 2 weeks already but that is what happens when you go away for a week...you have a week of catching up to do PLUS the normal day-to-day life things waiting for you to return. And though I am nowhere near caught up yet, I don't want to let this go too much longer. In a whole chicken/egg sort of way I spent the holiday weekend participating in the Western States Training Camp (thanks to Rodale - publishers of , Montrail, and of course Greg Soderlund the Western States Endurance Run Race Director) paying tribute to the memory of those soldiers who paid the ultimate price in service to this country as part of RunningBull's Run to Honor America's Veterans in support of the New England Shelter for Homeless Veterans. The Training Camp consisted of 3 days worth of trail running across 70 miles of the infamous Western States Trail that ultimately cumulate in the town of Auburn, CA.



And though I did not bring my camera along with me on these 3 runs, you can get an idea of the terrain from the photo tour (complete with topographical reference map and course profile) available at the WS100.com site. However, these photos don't quite capture the true experience of our first day spent running nearly 28 miles through a constant rain; constant if you don't include the segments spent above 5700' elevation when the precipitation was actually freezing rain mixed with snow. Strangely enough, running in and out of misty fog banks through mud and puddles, wet pine needles, poison oak, and jagged rocks on a narrow trail hugging the side of a mountain with 2000+ foot drop was an incredibly introspective experience. Though I guess I shouldn't be surprised that my mind found other things to do while I was running/hiking for 5 hours in a borderline hypothermic state.

I found myself reflecting on the experiences of my father in the jungles of Vietnam, of the early colonial militiamen in the deep forests of New England and Canada during the French-Indian War, of the soldiers both Confederate and Union in the Appalachian Mountains during the Civil War, and of soldiers in all the other conflicts great and small throughout our nation's history. I thought about how they might have felt, cold and wet and hungry, marching/running through unfamiliar lands under a constant state of anticipation and trepidation. I thought of how their simple actions helped shape the course of history in creating our nation and how that would allow me the freedom to undertake this opportunity to dwell upon these cultural ancestors of ours.

The Foresthill Bridge is the highest bridge in California, 730 feet above the valley below. I drove across this bridge twice a day traveling between my hotel and the Camp and admit to being unnerved by it each time. I ran down a slope that descended about 100' more than this bridge is high within the first 5 miles of my run...and then the real hills (down and up) began.

Fortunately(?) it only rained that first day. Our second day was bright and sunny and though a bit chilly at the start it quickly warmed into the upper 60's and 70's as we descended from the town of Foresthill to the Middle Fork of the American River on a soft yet firm trail with many many rocks and a couple of minor stream crossings. Unlike the actual 100 Mile Western States Run being held later this month, we did not get/have to ford the river. Instead we were treated to a nice 3 mile long uphill climb under the midday sun to await our 20 minute bus ride back to the base camp. By this time I had logged nearly 50 miles of running over a 26 hour period and in that time I came to realize that I am actually relatively good at downhill running. Of course the alternative being trip, fall, and probably break something (if I was lucky) I had great motivation to become a good downhill runner. The drawback to this of course is that although I minimized the negative effects on my ankles, knees, and feet (from sliding friction in my shoe), I did a tremendous disservice to my quadriceps. On the third day, Memorial Day, I was really starting to feel the cumulative effects of all of this running.

Though you wouldn't know it to look at me at the finish; because my stupid grin doesn't reflect my actual collected experiences from the previous 3 1/4 hours in which I lost the trail twice, slipped and fell for the one and only time (while going up hill), and reached true dehydration. This last came in a revelation with about 7 miles to go as I was running through a charred and blackened meadow and with the scent of the recent wild fire strong in my nostrils and my thoughts still wandering. My head was cold. The sun was beating down nicely on this 70-degree day, but the sweat that had been drenching me for hours was now chilling me. That and my motor reflexes felt about 1/2 second behind where they should have been. Fortunately, the feeling passed after a quick 20 oz of water, a Gu Roctane packet, and 5 minutes with my hat firmly planted on my head. I made sure to take advantage of that final aid station at No Hands Bridge while savoring the scenic views before starting the final ascent 3 miles from the finish.

Thankfully the mud of Saturday became the dust of Sunday and Monday because even with my new pre-release edition Left/Right Technology PowerSox and my pair of Vasque Blurs with the sticky rubber soles it was a tough run with treacherous footing over some truly difficult terrain (trail or not). No, that is not a tan line but a demarcation of where the poison oak stopped carressing my ankles. Happily I can report ZERO blisters, bunions, caluses, or lost toe nails from this encounter.

Thank you again Jim Rigney for your words of inspiration and personal examples of determination and dedication which led me to enter the Essay Contest that made this experience possible. I hope to some day form an Asha'man or Shen an Calhar running team of other like minded individuals to participate in some of the trail relay events in thanks to your contributions and in honor of your brothers-in-arms. You are not forgotten.

And neither are the 4600 American soldiers who have died in Afghanistan and Iraq for our current War on Terror, or the hundreds of thousands who fell in service before them. At least, not by me on this day of picnics, ballgames, white sales, and the like.

This past weekend I ran a nice 15 miler in the cool morning fog near my mother's house in northwest NJ prior to visiting with my second youngest brother for lunch to celebrate his birthday. From there, the weekend was a bit of a roller coaster.

I was scheduled to run the NJ Marathon as the 3:30 pace leader, which I did on Sunday morning - finishing in 3:29:34, but Saturday afternoon was absolutely brutal. The temperatures were in the low 40's with howling winds coming in off of the ocean at 35 MPH all accompanied by a persistent misty rain. The pre-race expo was tightly constrained within its big top tent and the crowd was incredibly thick with nervous first timers. I attended the pasta dinner and offered advice and encouragement to a few of those rookies over pasta and salad before a less than appealing hour long drive to the Paterson area where I was staying with my best friend from high school. After 3 hours of sleep, following 2 hours of Gauntlet on the Xbox360, we pointed the car south on the Garden State Parkway and arrived an hour before the start.

Race weather was nearly perfect, especially considering what it looked like just 12 hours earlier, 52-degrees, intermittent breeze off the water, overcast for the first hour. Locking in the pace took about 4 miles while the crowds broke apart and I could corral my group into a relatively cohesive unit so that we hit the 1/2 marathon together at 1:45, right on target. Of course this was while I was battling persistant lower GI pressure that forced me to make a pit stop at the next row of port-a-johns 4 minutes later. Fortunately, I was able to catch up with my group again less than 2 miles later after pushing my pace down to 7:00. Unfortunately, this wouldn't be the only time I had to make use of this tactic during the day.

During my second multiple mile game of catch-up I avoided all of the negative thoughts that would have killed my chances of catching up and getting back on the pace to fulfill my mission, to help other runners reach the finish at their target time of 3:30. I focused on the positive experiences from my recent Boston Marathon. I thought of how I overcame the hills, the heat, the sun, the wind, and a much more prolonged period at a similar pace. I focused on my successes and on the successes of those I had met that weekend; from champions such as Joan Benoit, Lance Armstrong, Ryan Hall, and Pam Reed to the countless number of everyday heroes with whom I shared the road that fine Monday morning. I tried to put this into words just before mile 24 for a runner who needed some additional motivation, and a bit of distraction, but I don't think it came across so well while my pace slowly pulled me away from her. Then again, I don't think it is coming across so well here either so I will just end this as I started - Find your inspiration to keep going, to keep fighting, to keep running - and keep it handy because you never know when you might need it.

Now that I have finished telling the recap of my entire day for the 23rd time to my coworkers and immediate family I can write a quick and simple little update for everyone else...Yes, I finished the Marathon on Monday.

I finished it in style too, setting a new personal record (PR) of 3:10:36 which bested my previous PR by 39 seconds and was a 22 minute improvement over my previous best time for the Boston Marathon course. The weather was near perfect for running and the crowds were thick and extremely supportive. The only things that could have made it better would have been to have a tailwind and some cloud cover. But at least my sunburn is mild and only on one side of my body, the benefit of a point-to-point course.

I had one minor muscle cramp episode that did of course impact my ultimate finishing time, but not by too much and fortunately wasn't enough to keep me from qualifying to compete again next year. It happened just after cresting the infamous Heartbreak Hill as I entered the water stop in front of Boston College. I pulled off to the right hand side of the road, reached out for the cup of Gatorade, and quickly pulled up short in a staggering hop between two of the volunteers who were very concerned with my well being (Thank you for that). Fortunately, I was able to quickly massage my left hamstring into a more user-friendly condition and carry on with my down hill journey through Brookline to Boston and the finish line. However, other than that setback, everything went according to plan and my even effort pacing remained right on target from start to finish. I even accounted for enough time to stop and give thanks to the Wellesley Scream Tunnel prior to the mid-point of the race.

I brought a disposable camera with me on the run and hope that at least one or two shots come out useable. I guess we won't know until they come back from being developed. However, I now have these two photos from the weekend of events to share. The first is me working at the Expo on Friday evening distributing Runner's bags (with T-shirts). The second is of me preparing to depart the Athletes' Village for my starting corral at the Hopkinton Common.

Oh sure, my legs hurt, my sunburn hurts, and I have remained tired and worn out for the past 49 hours, but in a good way! I will still be running at NikeTown tonight and giving thanks for the post race massages and Ben & Jerry's they had for us yesterday.

Not so surprising is that I was unable to find 10 minutes this weekend to post this update, but I am getting ahead of myself.

I have to believe that my Tempo Hill run described in my previous posting helped make a difference for the Bataan Death March Memorial Marathon because after months of training in Boston, 65-degree (and rising) temperatures, 5000 foot elevation (see attached course profile), and over 20 miles of loose rocky/sandy trails should have destroyed me. Instead, I was not only able to finish in a time just 4 seconds slower than my Boston Marathon finish from last year, but I finished 1st in my Division and in 5th place overall.

Granted, I will be lucky to finish 5,000th in my next marathon, the Boston Marathon, in just 11 days.

However, I am not going to live too far in the future when I can still savor my recent success and remember the inspirations and motivations that helped buoy me on through the incredible challenges of the course. Did I mention the near constant winds that were in our faces on the inclines? The send off we received from the former POWs who survived the Death March, the camps, the transport ships, and all of the horors that came with each and the knowledge that whatever discomfort, pain, injury, case of dehydration, or other ailment that I might suffer over the course of those 26.2 miles, it would be only a drop in the bucket compared to what they overcame. Putting things into perspective like that helped me to appreciate my accomplishment, but made me give even more credit to the teams that completed this endeavor together and those individuals who finished the event wearing full military uniforms, complete with boots and 35lb packs. Those "heavy" division participants were the reason that I went back out on the course in the full mid-day sun for 3 hours after I finished, rinsed off the sweat and grime, and ate before I finally had to drive back to El Paso for my return flight to Boston.

I am now providing links to my events and results from my campaign pledge page for those who want to follow along with my progress.

There, that wasn't too bad...it just took about twice as long as I expected it would. Now I have to run to catch up with my weekly Nike Run Club.

I didn't realize it until I was filling out my running log after today's long run around the Charles River and through the Back Bay Fens out to Jamaica Pond but I not only surpassed 55 miles in one week, but also passed 60 for the first time. I ran just over 25 miles today which, when combined with my other runs through the rain, sleet, snow, wind, and just general February in New England of this past week bumped me out to greater than 50% more weekly mileage than I had run all of last year. And my muscles and joints are not protesting in the least.

Oh sure, I can feel that I should probably rest tomorrow by just focussing on some weight training instead of running, but my body is actually accepting this increased mileage. Which of course makes me a lot more confident going into the first of my 3 marathons in a five week period, before the real test of my new fitness and ability at the Western States Endurance Run Training Camp over Memorial Day weekend. Running hills through the snow today and Friday has at least given me some idea of what to expect from the New Mexico sands at the end of March, though there isn't much more I can do about preparing for the altitude, heat, and sun in my neighborhood.

This past weekend Boston saw more than the effects an excellent pressure defense has on a pocket-passing QB, it also saw the inaugural running of the Super Sunday 5k / 10k through the Seaport and FanPier Districts. And through my role as, last minute, Course Director I got to experience first hand the amazing efforts extended by race volunteers (and a few conscripted spectators) to ensure that all participants in the event had a wonderful racing experience.

It was a great event with an amazing turn out for a first-time local event with under a month of active promotion on a day when most people in the area were only thinking about a particular football game that evening. I can only imagine that next year's event will be even better and I hope to be a more effective part of that event through better management of volunteers and course resources. Fortuunately, even though I was kept incredibly busy running around ensuring that we had all of the important details covered, I was still able to interact with some of our participants before, during, and after the event. Knowing that I helped, in my own small way, to make this a positive experience for so many other people is incredibly rewarding.

Building upon that rewarding feeling from helping others have a fabulous and memorable race experience, I have once again succumbed to the Pace Leader Bug. So you can look for me to next lead the 8 minute/mile runners through both the half (1:45) and full (3:30) marathons on May 4 at the New Jersey Marathon, 13 days after I tackle the Boston Marathon and 20 days before I undertake my first Ultramarathon experience at the Western States Endurance Run Training Camp. It will be my first time participating in a formal running event since 1993, when I failed to move on from the first heat of the 400m intermediate hurdles at the NJ State Championships track meet. Fifteen years might have slowed me down some, mostly from lack of speed specific training no doubt, but it hasn't deminished my enjoyment of a weekend trip to the Jersey Shore. Eating funnel cake and curly fries counts as carbo-loading, right?

First and foremost, take it slow, start small, and accept that your windows of free time are going to be closed down dramatically if you are starting from scratch (like I was). If you are currently participating in zero physical activity, start doing something, anything really, that will get your body used to exercising. Take a cardio-class at a local gym, start building some base mileage on a treadmill, walk/jog around the neighborhood, take the stairs instead of the elevator or escalator, bicycle, swim, just do something more than you currently are. This worked for me. I was able to learn how to fit exercise into my daily schedule, how to make it part of my routine, and how to get my joints and muscles used to the new demands I would be placing on them.

I began walking the 1/2 mile to and from my local grocery store, which is also more environmentally friendly than driving, when I did my shopping. I enrolled in the twice weekly 45-minute cardio-fitness class at my office gym and started running 15-20 minutes on the treadmill. I subscribed to Runner's World magazine for education and inspiration on running. I bought some running specific technical apparel and got fitted for appropriate footwear based upon my biomechanics.

I started participating in more local events as both a runner and a volunteer to gain better exposure to the running community and to learn tips on good locations to run, groups to run with, clubs to join (which I still have not done), and other events to participate in. After about a year of this I felt ready to test myself with a Half Marathon, the 1st annual Boston's Run to Remember in March of 2005. It wasn't nearly as hard as I thought it was going to be, even with the fresh snow and ice turning the course threaded through downtown Boston and the industrial port area into an especially fun filled treat. When I finished I found that I was only about 7 seconds per minute off pace for my age group to qualify for the Boston Marathon. I was completely amazed at how far I had progressed and how attainable my goal seemed to be. I say "seemed to be" because those 7 seconds per mile combined with an additional 13.1 miles were not quite as automatic as I had thought that wonderfully blustery March afternoon. A fact that would become all too clear 7 months later in Hartford, CT.