Back With The Team

Old Barn Along The Highline

Time To Get Serious

I’m back training with the team after a few weeks away. The morning run today was the longest yet of my training runs and some of the soreness that resulted from my morning workout persists as I type. We gathered at the First Church of The Nazarene which has a generous parking lot and access to the Highline Canal Trail. The trail, winding for miles through Denver, is no secret to the running community as evidenced by the many early-risers  on the trail today. Other athletes biked and walked the trail. There was even a guy wearing all terrain roller skates and ski poles getting ready for the ski season this winter. Coaches Rick and Greg had a specific plan for me today. I would go for fifteen miles starting out about a minute slower than my marathon pace and then every 25 minutes I’d pick up the pace to test my abilities on tired legs. The first couple of miles were easy and I ran along with another teammate, Lauren, who also has ambitions to qualify for Boston. Rick pedaled his bike nearby to provide more details about the plan today. After a couple miles when the pace quickened, Rick stayed with me to help monitor my pace. I continued on the gravel trail, crossing over or under a road every few miles until I reached my turnaround point. My pace quickened again, but without a way to monitor my speed too well, I picked up the pace too much. I felt good for a while, but the excessive speed of the workout after my turnaround caught up with me late in the run and I struggled to meet my pacing goals. As I neared the finish I caught up with Cathie, one of our team managers that works at the Leukemia and Lymphoma Society. She filled me in on the latest statistics-we have 90 runners that have made the final commitment to raise the money and race the miles that will help end blood cancer. When I reached the finish, I turned around to jog back out and meet Rick and Lauren as they finished. We talked about cadence, the rate of each stride. We’re going to try to speed up the turnover of my running stride which should mean I’ll have more efficient movement and ought to better reach my goals. The three of us spent some time conferring at the end of the run to plan a strategy for the next week. The race is in sight at this point so the training will continue to get  more intense and focused so that I’ll be healthy and ready to accomplish my racing goal.

In Memory

Hilary Fitzgerald

A Life Well Lived

I made a special trip to Telluride this week to remember Hilary Fitzgerald, a friend from college who tragically lost her life last week in a car accident. Family and friends gathered on a mesa outside of town to share heartfelt memories of this amazing sister, daughter and friend. My thoughts have been with her parents and sister these past few days. They shared a letter she wrote some months ago that provides a glimpse into the way she chose to live and I’d like to share it with you here in the context of the loss of anyone we care about and the way we might also choose to live knowing that life is a fragile gift.

“Never stop creating or building your dreams. Never settle for less than what you know you want. Be bold and dream, think and live Big! With love and light,” written by Hilary, December 2008.

Mile High Rush

Cherry Creek Bike Path

Fit As A Fiddle

If you’ve been reading the blog, you know I regularly run along the Cherry Creek Path as it cuts through the parks and neighborhoods around Denver. It is named after the large cherry orchards that used to crowd the banks of the creek. Today was a quick 40 minute run along the concrete path shortly after the end of the work day. I must have passed over 200 runners, bikers, and dog walkers going this way and that along the trail. Seeing the numbers of residents out on the path reminded me why Denver consistently shows up on lists of the fittest and healthiest cities in the country. The mayor, John Hickenlooper, aside from owning one of the most popular breweries in the city, the Wynkoop Brewery, works out three days a week. Residents who reported similar routines totaled 55% of the city, more than the average across the country. Denver has more park acreage per capita than nearly all other cities too and direct links have been found between access to open space and obesity. Denver residents, on average, participate more in martial arts, pilates, snowshoeing, snowboarding, skiing, cycling, yoga, and mountain biking than any other city. According to the 2009 American College of Sports Medicine’s American Fitness Index. Only Washington D.C. and Minneapolis-St. Paul ranked higher in this year’s survey. With that in mind, I cruised along the path for twenty minutes and then turned around to head home. As I passed under the bridges of the streets above, another runner passed me. This usually doesn’t happen, and though there was no reason to (aside from ego and the fact that this guy’s form was pretty bad), I decided to pass him back. I gave him a head start and didn’t speed up drastically, but over the next half-mile or so I reeled him in. Hopefully the twinge of competition I felt on the short training run will help me push myself to reach my goal at the marathon too.

A Game of Tag

Denver Skyline From City Park

City Park Out And Back

Another night in Denver and another run on the streets. I decided to traverse a segment of the actual Denver Marathon course. I’d learned from the coaches and other athletes that had raced in the marathon before that one of the most challenging segments in the gradual hill along 17th street that sarts about five miles in. I left the house with my headlamp and reflectors in place and quickly reached lower downtown. I turned onto 17th street and settled into a quick, easy rhythm. The hill was sustained, though not very steep. Unsure of how far I might go that night, I decided to see if Icould tag the entrance to City Park on the far side of downtown from where I live. I could reach it if I kept on 17th street, passin the coffee shops, restaurants, and small stores that line the avenue along its whole length. when I reached the corner of 17th and York and peered into the shadows of the trees that line the park, I decided not to venture in but found satisfaction in making it out. I raced back along 17th street to the tall skyscrapers of the Central Business District and then popped up to 18th street for some variety on the way home. Before I knew it, I’d reached the house and had eight more miles down in the training log, a few more of the hundreds I’ve put on my shoes in preparation for the main event.

A Bust

Not Every One Is The Best One

The original plan for the day was to travel to Leadville. A friend of mine would be competing in the Leadville Trail  100 Endurance Race. The 100 stands for 100 miles (and you think I’m crazy!). Competitors follow a series of roads and trails through the mountains around Leadville, the nation’s highest city at 10,152 feet. It is one of several renowned 100 mile races standing with the Hardrock 100 in Silverton, Colorado,  the Western States 100 in California, and the Wasatch Front 100 near Salt Lake City as one of the most difficult physical challeneges around. I’d be playing the role of a pacer, runner/helpers that basically try to keep their companion from dying during the course of the race. When I called another member of the support team to find out about my friend’s progress, I ended up talking directly to my friend. He had dropped out of the race at 40 miles after running 23 miles with crippling foot pain from a case of plantar fasciitis. He was eating pizza and beer. I felt sorry for my friend but a little relieved for myself. I still determined to head out for a run and it went terribly. I left the hotel with the intent to go for a couple hours to the trails that connect Gunnison to Crested Butte. From the beginning my feet felt heavier, my shoes felt thinner, my knees felt achey-er and my lungs felt weaker. Then my mind felt weary too. All the worst questions filled my head. Why are you doing this? What if you’re hurting your self? Will it matter if you stop now? It was late, my plans for the whole day had changed, and I decided to give myself a break. I turned around early and padded back to the hotel. I was disappointed that the run didn’t go as planned, but I knew that the next day would be a fresh start and there was still plenty of time until race day. The next time this happens though I’ll have a new plan. Just lower my head and keep going…

Running In Circles

Autumn In The Mountains Outside Gunnison

Back In The Bowl

I had another day on the Western State College track. One lap around the track equals 400 meters, approximately a quarter-mile. A warm-up for a few laps on the empty track loosened up my muscles and readied me for the strenuous workout ahead. The track session consisted of 4 sets of 3X300 meter lengths run nearly as fast as possible. I missed being with the team today because track can be a monotonous series of repeated laps. I prefer to look at the changing scenery on most runs, or talk up my fellow teammates. Without their presence, a track workout boils down to focus and counting-good for developing the mental toughness racers also need to achieve their potential. At the end of the workout, I cooled down by walking the hill at the end of the track where I could see the town of Gunnison below and it’s 5,000 residents. The sun was setting over the Palisades, a large cliff just west of town, and casting shadows upon the Taylor River wending its way down the valley from the mountains that surround Crested Butte, not far to the North. The comfortable August-evening temperatures gave no hint to the reality; that the Gunnison Valley is often one of the coldest places in the country when the snowy season comes to Colorado (average low in January is -7F). The surrounding sageland and cloudless sky, broken by the tall cottonwood trees that line the valley floors presented a classic frontier vision and its easy to understand why Western legends like Wyatt Earp would find Gunnison an agreeable place to settle. Hundreds  of miles of trails and gravel ranch roads reach out from and connect the surrounding cities of central Colorado and with places like the Black Canyon of the Gunnison National Park, Monarch Pass, Crested Butte, and the Maroon Bells-Snowmass Wilderness just a short trip away, I could also see how a committed runner could find Gunnison a worthy home too.

The Enemy

Red Blood Cells

A Look At Leukemia

I ran on some of the trails on Guunison city property, a series of rolling dusty tracks cutting across sage- and brush-covered slopes that afforded views of the campus of Western State College and the surrounding ranch lands. The run was pleasant and wholly unremarkable so I thought I’d take some time to talk about leukemia, the disease I’m working so hard to stop.

Leukemia is a cancer of the blood. A mutation in a patient’s DNA reprograms cells of the bone marrow (where blood cells are produced) and the blood cells that are generated do not function properly. The mutation causes these ineffective cells to reproduce more quickly than normal blood cells and crowds them out. Red blood cells, the kind that carry oxygen, aren’t produced as much so patients often feel fatigued. White blood cells, those responsible for immunity, don’t work effectively so patients are more susceptible to and have difficulty recovering from sickness. Platelets, the blood component that aids clotting, also function poorly so leukemia patients bruise easily and have complications resulting from injury.

Current treatments attempt to achieve complete remission. They include chemotherapy, and stem cell (bone marrow) transplants. Clinical trials are also underway to find new treatments with fewer side effects. More and more patients survive longer and with a greater quality of life than at any other time. The energy of thousands, is going to end the disease entirely. 40,000 athletes with Team In Training will contribute to the mission this year alone. With recent advances in research and technology we get closer to ending blood cancers like leukemia for everyone. Thank you for the support of my efforts. If you’d like to learn more about leukemia and ways to help further the mission to end blood cancer click here.

Dark In Denver

Open Late

We have one day off during the ten-day medicine course and I needed to return to Denver. At the end of my work day in the classroom and the end of my car ride, I was feeling the need to exercise. I laced up the shoes and left the house at ten. I stuck to the well-lit streets that run through downtown. In the cool of the evening, I could run quickly without overheating and with the benefit of several days at altitude the air here seemed rich with oxygen. The run felt great and ended too soon. I ran around the capital building, it’s gilded dome lit against the black sky. One of the best things about running is that it can be done anywhere at anytime. All one needs is a good pair of shoes, a little bit of time, and a small amount of willingness to get out the door, even if its late.

An Ancient History

The Marathon

In 492 BC, Darius I, ruler of the vast Persian empire sent his navy and ground forces across the Aegean seas to invade Greece as punishment for the small country’s military support of Ionia in an earlier revolt. They landed at the plain of Marathon where a defensive force of Athenian hoplites met them for battle. Hoplites are citizen-soldier spearmen that fought in phalanxes of soldiers standing close enough for each one’s shield to not only protect themselves but the warrior beside them too. This group, outnumbered and less professionally trained, surprised the confident Persians and decisively beat them in a bloody encounter. As the Persian ships withdrew and rounded the highlands to surprise the Athenians in their backyard, a lone messenger set off on foot for a run that would change history. As legend tells, the messenger, Pheidippides, arrived at Athens to tell of the victory at Marathon before dying of exhaustion on the floor of the forum. Troops amassed to defend the city and the Persians, seeing the trouble ahead turned their ships around. The Greek civilization would dominate western history for centuries to come.

Dorando Pietri At The 1908 Olympic Games

In 1896, at the first modern Olympic Games in Athens, the organizers were looking for a way to stir national pride and enthusiasm and they found it by recreating the legendary journey of the beloved messenger as a foot race. At first, the marathon was not a set length and would vary at each games as the organizers wished. In 1908, at the games in London, a diminutive Italian runner, Dorando Pietri led for much of the race. In the final yards, within a stadium where even the Queen had come to enjoy the spectacle, he lurched and staggered towards the finish dangerously close to complete collapse. Officials swooped in to carry him across the line,  disqualifying him from the race despite his valiant attempt. Though the gold medal was given to another runner, the little Italian’s story and the dramatic olympic race popularized the marathon around the world. In recognition of the history that was made on that day, the International Amateur Athletic Federation set the official length of the marathon to the length of the run on that day-26 miles, 385 yard (26.2 miles) It is now the official marathon distance. The marathon continues to have an honored place at the Olympic Games as the last official event often finishing just before or as part of the closing ceremonies.

The Start Of The New York City Marathon

Today, millions of people race in marathons to connect with this history and face this challenge. Prestigious races take place each year in Boston, New York, Chicago, London, Berlin, Paris, Stockholm, and Honolulu. Many other marathons attract racers to exotic locations and give everyone an opportunity to participate. Most racers aim simply to finish. My goal will be to qualify for the Boston Marathon, the oldest annually-run marathon in the world. I’ll need to complete the course in Denver in less than three hours and ten minutes. The current world record in the marathon, set by Ethiopian Haile Gebrselassie in September of 2008, is 2 Hours 3 minutes and 59 seconds. This means that he ran a 4:41-minute mile for all 26.2 miles of the race.

Crashing The Race

Hartman Rocks

Out In The Sage

Long runs typically take place on Saturday and I decided to go to Hartman Rocks today, an area of jumbled granite outcrops, sagebrush hills, and big sky. I went to a local shop to get a map so I would avoid getting lost on the criss-cross of roads  and trails that dissect the area. Administered by the federal Bureau of Land Management, the agency responsible for more square mileage of our country than any other, Hartman Rocks is know for mountain biking, off-roading, and bouldering-a form of rock climbing where practitioners stay relatively low to the ground and forego ropes and some of the more cumbersome gear that other climbers use. The shop had no map, but I decided to go anyway. When I reached the trailhead, out beyond the county airport, the trail was marked with signs, arrows, and flagging. I quickly realized that their was a mountain bike underway and they had marked the course perfectly for me. No way to get lost today-lucky! The bike racers had signed up for an event called “24 Hours of Sage”. They began riding at noon that day and would keep riding the 11-mile loop over and over all through the night and until noon the next day. And you think I’m crazy! The trails are in excellent shape, smooth and wide enough for a solitary runner or biker, but still wild. The climb out of the trailhead came to a rubbly crest with a great view to the west and the miles of sage that cover the valley floor and stretch out across the Colorado Plateau. As I ran along I needed to look over my shoulder frequently so I could hop out of the path and let bikers continue their race. I would offer some applause too, maybe the only spectator the riders had on the course. They were appreciative of my encouragement. The course wound through the hills and at one point a racer wearing an afro wig, tie dyed pants, and sporting an old boom-box lashed to his single-speed bike with a bungee cord, screamed past me, clearly enjoying his time on the trails. I passed him back on an uphill (the disadvantage of no gears on your bike) and he passed me again on the next rambling descent. Next, the trail crossed some slabs of granite to a notch in a ridge and my last look west caught the sun in its final flush for the day, the sky aflame with a glorious orange hue before the golden globe vanished on the horizon. The trail then plunged down a rocky gully into a creekside section surrounded by greenery. I arrived back to the trailhead at dusk and considered that the racers would be lapping the course for the next 15 hours before they could rest. At least they’d be in a grand landscape.