Well what do you know, another day of freezing rain/sleet/ice to make my life more interesting.  Currently things are just wet so hopefully tonight's run won't have to be canceled or abreviated because I really need to get myself back into race condition before my next 5K (16 days) and marathon (17 days).  But that future stuff can wait...

Now is the time for a little reflection on the recently concluded year; a year of unprecedented (for me at least) performance.  Yes, somehow I managed to make it through 2008 in better condition than I could have even imagined at this time last year.  I not only survived my "ambitious" personal challenge, that saw me race more than 350 miles in 16 races over the course of the year, including 12 as part of "RunningBull's Run to Honor America's Veterans", but I also managed to finish in the top 10% for each event (that I was not participating in as a pace leader) including 8 finishes in the top 5 of my age group.

I ran a grand total of 2094 miles for the year. Unfortunately the local weather conditions did not permit me to run on New Years Eve, sort of like the LSU defense did to Georgia Tech in the Peach Bowl (again ), so I did not reach 2112 and thus could not find the Passage to Bangkok or the Temples of Syrinx before passing into the new year.  But still, that is more than I ran in 2007, 2006, 2005, on back to at least 1993 combined and am therefor not all that disappointed in having to wait until New Years Day to knock off those remaining miles.

My efforts to help support the New England Shelter (now Center) for Homeless Veterans in 2008 were mostly successful.  I came up about $3000 short of my fundraising goal BUT I did generate some additional publicity for the Center, generated some good will and feelings of appreciation for our veterans and active duty personnel, made my father proud and gave him something to talk about at the VA hospital where he lives.  For all of those reasons, and more, I have decided to continue my efforts into 2009.

However, this year I will not be focusing my schedule around participating in the Thematically linked events that I had in 2008, which dictated my travel, training, and race availability.  I will instead focus on completing one or two dramatic ultra-endurance level events while also expanding my role of service to the sport in honor of the service of our soldiers.

I will be continuing my new found role as a Marathon Pace Leader: currently scheduled to lead the 3:20 group in Miami and either the 3:30 or 3:15 group in Little Rock.

I am the Volunteer Coordinator for the 2nd annual Marathon Sports Super Sunday 5k/10k on Feb 1 in S. Boston.  I was the Course Director last year.  Volunteers are still welcome to sign up for on course support during the race (water table, course monitor, timing chip collection).

I joined the newly formed Race Director Committee for the 13th annual 24-hour Around the Lake Team Relay, Ultra-marathon, and Marathon presented by the Somerville Road Runners in Wakefield, MA on July 24-25.  I am currently operating as the Director of Sponsor Relations undertaking great efforts to keep this event fun, exciting, and affordable to all participants.  I hope to be able to find a way to actually participate in this event and enjoy the fruits of my labors, but odds are I will too many duties that will need my attention that weekend and will have to sign up for someone else's Ultra.

Speaking of sponsors, I feel that it is time for me to pass the torch and will be stepping down from Team Aquaphor after my 3 years of representing their Endurance Athlete Team.  I had a great time, met some wonderful people, and enjoyed some excellent benefits but feel that it is good to spread the wealth and will not stand in the way of some other deserving up-and-coming athlete.

And of course, I am registered to both volunteer for and compete in the Boston Marathon in April.

Have a great year everybody.

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.

Okay, so maybe the motivation and inspiration provided were not to sit behind my computer cropping and resizing digital photos before trying to milk my thoughts into a logical progression so that I can share how the events of last Sunday morning helped me push through to a new PR at last Monday's Boston Marathon.

But I expect that you probably respect me more for getting back out there and running Wednesday night, conducting 5 project inspections Thursday and Friday (including two night time Interstate resurfacing inspections in the wee hours of Friday morning), and putting in a decent 18 on Saturday; pausing for 15 minutes to cheer for the participants of a 5k that overlapped my route than for writing this earlier.  And if I am wrong...so be it.

Sunday, April 20, 2008 saw 146 of the best female distance runners in the USA absolutely conquer the 4 loop marathon course through Boston's Back Bay and the East Cambridge waterfront during the 2008 Olympic Team Trials.  Though only the top three finishers will be travelling to Beijing in August to represent their country in the marathon competition, 47 of those women qualified for the next Olympic trials with their performances.  41 women ran new personal best marathon times, including 13 or the top 15 finishers.

From the very beginning Magdalena Lewy Boulet, 5th place finisher in the 2004 Olympic Team Trials, took ownership of her own destiny by opening a commanding lead of nearly 2 minutes from the rest of the pack.  Her determination to run the race her way on her terms had most of the spectators around me wondering (1) who was this woman, (2) could she hold on at this pace until the end, and (3) what will the other competitors do in response?

Magdalena Lewy Boulet showed no fear of failure, no chance for regret.  She went out there and sent a message to the world that the USA Women's Team was not going to be  "Dena +2".  I can honestly state that I was so impressed and astonished by how easy she made this look that it took a few hours for the magnitude of her accomplishment to sink in.

And some of that was due to the performance of the pre-race favorite 2004 Olympic Marathon Bronze medalist Dena Kastor, shown here making her move to separate from eventual third place finisher Blake Russell (far right).  During the final 6 miles of this race Dena overcame a 1:17 deficit to overtake the leader at Mile 23.5, a feat I missed while fighting my way through the crowd 10 people deep lining the course so that I could watch the final 100 meter stretch leading up to and across the very same finish line that I would be chasing after less than 24 hours later.

But I was there to see Dena Kastor brandishing an American flag picked up along the course as she sprinted through the finish to win with a 44 second margin over Magdalena Lewy  Boulet.

The crowd exploded in celebration as Massachusetts born Kastor merrily pranced back down Boylston Street to the Lord & Taylor before stopping to accept some congratulatory handshakes, pose for some photos, and even sign a few autographs while the remaining women streamed in to the finish behind her, including 1984 Olympic Marathon Gold medalist Joan Benoit Samuelson as she broke the US 50+ record with her time of 2:49:08 in her final competitive marathon.  Joanie, as she is known far and wide in this part of the world, has never finished a marathon slower than 3:00.  Which in an amazing coincidence, I have never finished a marathon faster than 3:00.

Perhaps I should shoot for never finishing slower than 4:00, which is a positive statistic that I currently hold and can feasibly maintain.

I was incredibly inspired by all of these amazing performances, by the sheer emotion rolling off of the crowd, and the determination pouring out of these fabulous athletes racing for pride.  As much as I should have been off my feet and resting in advance of my impending marathon, I didn't care.  If anything, I am writing it off along with the 16 hours spent on my feet working at the Expo the previous two days as conditioning for next month's Western States Endurance Run Training Camp - my first ultra running experience.

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.

Family, friends, and co-workers seem to be almost constantly asking me some variation of this question and the truth of the matter is that there are literally countless numbers of reasons to either do or not do anything. So why should running be any different?

As I previously mentioned, running long distances had absolutely zero appeal to me for the first 28 years of my life. As an example, I remember my sophmore year in college chatting with a rather attractive young lady who mentioned that she and I shared many of the same classes, had similiar interests, and that she was also a runner in high school. Now remember, I attended Georgia Tech, an engineering school with a rather dismal ratio of men to women so pretty much any opportunity to spend non-class time with a member of the opposite sex was relished. However, when she started talking about joining in on her afternoon 5 mile runs or her weekend long runs...excuses to be elsewhere couldn't come too fast and that was pretty much that.

So what happened to change my perspective? In 2003 I moved from Atlanta to Boston. In Atlanta, outdoor running was not even an option during most of the year given the heat, the humidity, and the horrible air quality - at least not for a beginning runner. But in Boston, we actually get noticable seasonal variations in the weather that allowed me to get outside more during the day. Plus the area is just so much more pedestrian friendly with a true urban core and a functional transit system that it encourages one to do chose not to drive from home to work to shopping mall to big box retailer to...you get the point. So when I saw the advertisement for a night time Halloween costumed 5k fun run through the Boston Common and the streets of downtown I wasn't quite as apprehensive as I would have been in Atlanta. Sure, I had only run that distance that one time before, but that was in the heat of early summer as opposed to the chill of late October. And we were all a bunch of adults running around in costumes (I was a pirate with an eye patch and a cutlass) through the streets of a city. I finished without having to stop or walk, granted I have some serious doubts about the accuracy of the course length, and the post race party was a blast. So I learned that running a couple of miles wasn't necessarily hard and could actually be a lot of fun.

Fast forward 5 months to April, 2004 and the days leading up to the 108th Boston Marathon. The City and the whole region were all abuzz with talk of the Marathon. Stories about the Marathon were everywhere; in the paper, on television, around the office, and on the train. I learned that it is the oldest annual marathon event in the world. I learned that it is the only such event, besides the Olympics and World Championships that requires the participants to qualify for acceptance. I learned that since it is held on a state holiday (Patriots Day) most businesses are closed and hundreds of thousands of people line the 26.2 mile length from Hopkinton, MA to the finish line in front of the Boston Public Library. I learned that the Red Sox arange their schedule so that they always have a home game that day timed to let out as the racers come by, adding thousands of additional cheering spectators to the streets. But until the day of the race I didn't know what any of this really meant.

Watching 3 time Olympian, 2 time Boston Champion, and 61 time participant John A. Kelley sing "Young at Heart" before the start of the race, watching Rick and Dick Hoyt battle the hills of Newton, and watching the crowd shots along the course on TV was enough to get me off the couch and on the train to experience this in person near the final mile at Kenmore Station. It was only here, in the heart of the crowd nearly 25 miles from the start that I could witness the dedication, the determination, the agony, and the ecstasy of the runners, where I could literaly feel the energy coming from the crowd to support runners over an hour behind the winner. I had never experienced any truer expression of love of sport in my entire life and I had attended college bowl games, experienced the NCAA Final Four, attended a World Cup soccer match, and even Michael Johnson's world record gold medal runs at the 1996 Olympics.

I wanted to be a part of this. I wanted _this _experience for myself. Right then and there I vowed to qualify for and compete in the 111th Boston Marathon, to be held in 2007. It was time to start training because my qualifying time as a male under 35 years of age is 3 hours and 10 minutes. This equates to a 7:15/ mile pace over 26.2 miles.

Next time: 0 to 26.2 in less than 3 years, not too difficult. Covering 26.2 miles in less than 3:10, now that's a bit harder.