Don't Look Back.

Today was a gut run.  You know the type of run I speak of I think.  It is a run that you need to do, that will be good for you, but your critical thinking portion of your brain says "Stay at your computer, maybe an email will come through and you will feel useful."

I wasn't going to let that happen. I did not want that to happen.  So I looked at the mileage sheet that my wife so wonderfully provided for me, and it said "3" meaning today was going to be a quick 3 rather than a long 18 or a short 12.  So I went for the run.  I went up the hills and across the foothills and through the traffic and over a couple of cross walks and then I was done.  I pushed myself because I could.  I pushed myself because I know that for the rest of the day I get to sit on my butt and handle issues or crisis or any number of tasks that might arise.  But, my run is done for the day.

So let me share with you a few kernels of wisdom that I had mashing around in my brain.

1.  Don't ever look back.  The past is something that you cannot change because it is done and you can't do anything else to change it now.  I hearken to Roger Bannister and John Landy - John lost his focus in the last few meters of the race and Roger blew past him to secure the race.  Don't ever look back.

2.  Don't ever stop.  If you stop you begin to tighten up and lose your resolve.  You won't have the ability to get up the next hill or the next mile. If you stop it will invariably take longer to get back home.  Back to your kids, your tasks, and your life.  Wait.  Maybe you do need to stop.  On second thought don't stop.  The one thing about running is that you get to go all the way out and all the way back.  You are in control of what you are doing and how you will accomplish it.  Don't muddle through a run - just go out and do it and get it done.  Unless you are truly injured, bleeding, or your leg has fallen off - get to it.  Your run awaits.

3.  You are in control.  You decide how fast to go - how long to go - your pace - and in the end, the results.  You get to choose where to go.  I apologize to all those that lived under Communist Running dictatorships where they told you how far and how long and what to do.  You choose.  You go.  Go do.

4.  Excuses.  Don't Live them, don't water them, don't repeat them, don't encourage them, don't appease them, don't love them, don't help them.  Like a avalanche of fire rolling down the mountain burning everything in it's path, exploding trees by boiling the sap from within, clearing whole swaths of the mountain and charging onward.  Don't timidly step out on the street, bull out there and make your statement.  You are your own nemesis.  Make your mark.

5.  Demons.  Name them.  Mark them.  Hunt them.  Kill them.  Win.

FMR

5.95 Boston Miles - 1 Hour 7 Minutes of contemplation.

As you enter the stream of my thoughts - bring a boat and a paddle.  For the flow is crazy.

Yesterday - 4/15/13 - I discovered via a news feed that a misguided individual or group, had decided to inflict mayhem and terror to runners and spectators at the Boston Marathon.  I don't know why a group would do that, and I don't understand their motive or their goal.  Hurting people is not how you get your message across - it is not how you get someone to listen to you - and it is not how you see results that last longer than when you no longer have the bomb or the gun pointed at my head.

My wife has explained to me that runners have an "internal locus of control" vs. an "external locus of control."  To bring that down to my cave man understanding - runners believe that they can control themselves and their environment - to act rather than to be acted upon.  Runners push through with a belief that they can conquer the next hill in front of them, the next mile that looms so large.  Runners don't start a race thinking they won't finish.  They believe that they have trained hard and long to get there and they understand their limits and their abilities.  Runners don't set out to fail. They plan, plan, plan, and plan some more.  They experiment with shoes and goo and hills and roads and snow and cold and rain and shine.  Runners purely do. 

So.  I went to bed late last night with the news in my eyes of the day.  I watched the bombs going off and I watched Americans do what Americans do.  They run towards the blast and they tear down the barriers and they use whatever is nearby to stop the blood - to carry the wounded, and they go the distance because that is what Americans do.  You grab a lanyard from around your neck and you stop the life from pumping from a gash caused by a cowardly blast.  I was not there.  I don't know what was going on.  I don't know who did it.  I don't know why.

But.  I know that inside - I am the same as those that lost their lives.  Color, creed, etc., are of no consequence when danger comes calling.  You take away the safety of one or a hundred Americans - we close the ranks around those that have been injured or threatened and we protect them, help them, love them, and care for them.  Why?  Because that is what Americans do. 

So, I had been watching my Facebook feed and there were running clubs around the US that were going on a run to show solidarity with their fellow Americans.  I read those.  I contemplated them.  I have a job.  It had an hours window of opportunity for me to go on a run. 

Now let me explain to you how I run.  I am slow.  I am not fast.  My marathon times is clocked in increments of 5 hours.  But I felt something different today.  I left the iPod at home.  I strapped on the shoes, put on my St. George Marathon 2011 shirt and I went out for a run.  Some would not call it running.  Others would call it shuffling.  Today I call it:  Boston. 

I don't know the three people who died in the bomb blast.  I don't know their lives or where they were going or where they came from.  My simple connection is that they were the same as me.  Sons and Daughters of God.  Placed here on earth to learn and to grow and to fulfill a measure of the opportunities that The Almighty had put here for them.  A coward stole those next moments from them.  I cannot do a thing to restore them - but I can remember them.  I can remember that when I take a breath - when I run a mile - when I hug my son and my wife that I have time they didn't, and won't.  I can remember that they were plucked off this mortal coil and I need to make every day count and every moment matter.

That is the "internal" locus of control  No matter how hard the wind blows, and no matter the battering that takes place - I can still make a better world each day that I shuffle forth.  God bless those that have left us and God bless us that have the opportunity to continue our run.

Essense Of Running

I had a run today - it was a Ranger Run - 5 miles.  My wife dropped Henry and I off at school and I had the privilege to run back home.  I was thinking about the essence of running.  What does it mean and where am I headed?

That of course is something that only I can answer - and so I will.  Running grants me some small freedoms.  It allows me to become disconnected from the world around me and to become independent of the electronic clutters this fair world.  Running helps me to push the sun back into the sky and to draw a few more breaths later in my life when it will matter more to me the days that I spend with my grand children and possibly my great grand children playing games with them and having them smile.  It allows me that time to look into their eyes and see the eternities spread before them.  Some would regret the time spent out there on the road.  The alone time that lets you become acquainted with yourself.  I don't regret that time because hopefully the moments spent now build a bank of time that I would not otherwise have.

Running does that to me.  Running gives me the vehicle in which I can keep the demons at bay that might end me early.  Diabetes, heart disease, cancer, and other health issues hang on my family tree.  But if I work at what I have been given, and work at making myself fitter, faster, and capable maybe I will just live a little bit longer and enjoy the life that I am saving for one run at a time.

Each person has their own drive - and their own desires.  I have the opportunity to lengthen my life by every step that I take and every pair of shoes that I wear out.  That is a worthwhile goal - to wear out so many pairs of shoes that the doctor that visits me close to the dying day will not see a pile of worn out shoes but a pile of extra memories and opportunities to hold the little hands and run down the long hills together with those that matter most.

Yes, lets pile the shoes and memories together.  Lets us go the distance together my friends. 

Dave

Quitters.

"thousand miles to be travelled, start with foot (placed) down".

To you that know me.  I am not a philosopher.  I tend to take things literally.  Very literally.  My wonderful spouse gets tight in the eyes when my Inner Viking starts the neighbors house on fire and is looking for glass to pack into the cannon.  Gone are the days of plunder and carrying off the women.  So when I begin my trial of 1000 miles - I reflect on the inner me.  On my brain and my heart and the fuel within me that keeps me going.

Introspection is not one of my strong suits - but what I find in my heart and in my soul is a drive.  Drive to go the next step and drive to get it done.  I find that I don't want to quit - that goals that I put no paper mean something and that what I say means something and that what I do speaks more volumes than are in a library.

Let me illustrate this point to you in 4.5 miles that I did today.  It is smoggy outside, 25 degrees was the high today.  I had been busy all day.  I had had conference calls from Hades's subdivision on the River Stix, and mentally I was fatigued.  But.  I knew in the back of my mind that I needed to get out and go.  I needed to tap my desire and fuel my legs and get my butt in gear and go the distance.

The tough part is that first step.  The tough part is getting yourself out the door and committing that you are going to make it.  The tough part is going.  As my wise Grandfather once said - "If you are going - GO!"

So, let me tell you what I was thinking while I was running.  I was thinking about those that quit.  I was thinking about those that pull up short and don't want to go any further.  I was thinking about how hard would it be to make me quit?  I was thinking about how much pain would stop me.

I would like to tell you that I don't know the answers to those questions.  I don't know how far and how long and how much I can go because I have yet to get there and I have yet to know these things.  I watched a runner in an event at the London Olympics.  She fell down or was tripped and she flipped around landed on the ground and gave up.  She could have gotten up  - she could have kept going - she could have finished.  She did not.  She gave up and she gave in.

Have I been in pain before?  Yes.  Have I wanted to quit?  Yes.  Have I wanted to take the bus home because I was 10 miles out and knew that I had 10 miles to get back home?  Yes.  Have I been running on a railroad track in the middle of the night and lost and I don't know where I am and I am scared that I won't find my way back?  Yes.  I have been in those circumstances.

But the difference between giving up and keeping yourself going is slight.  It is the drive and desire that picks up your foot and puts it back down on the pavement and pushes you another mile.  It is the desire and the drive to make your way home and your desire and drive to find your way back.  Sure you can take the easy way out and knock on the door of some stranger and ask for a ride home.  You can give up.  Or you can pick yourself up and move forward.  You can pick yourself up and make the difference.

You are not me, and I am not you - but I think everyone has abilities that if they look hard enough and deep enough they will find resolve, grit, and determination to go the next step.  You pick the foot up and you put it down.  You box up your hurt, fatigue, pain, anguish, issues, and you put it in a mental box and smash it with a hammer.  You gather up your inner strength and determination and you do what others are afraid of doing.  You push yourself because you want what is at the end of that run you want the knowledge that you did not fail and that you triumphed over what demons chased you the entire way.

If you are looking for a pat on the back because you finished - you won't find it here.  I will ask you what is next - and what are you prepared to do to get there.  If you stop - the demons win.  The demons of the clock, time, age, hurt, anguish, hips, bones, toes, face, and fat all just want you to stop.  Stop and rest a while - you can get going in a bit. Or a year or ten years.

I challenge myself to not stop.  To take the last full measure of angst and determination and put it in the furnace of desire and power me the next step.  I challenge you to do the same and beat me to the finish line.

The Fat Man - and his cells....

1/7/13

Ah.  You come to visit me again.  To learn of the fat man that runs?  Ah Yes, I know him - he has new shoes - runs in a balaclava, drags his dog along with him, and all at sub-20 degree temperatures.  Oh I know! Insanity must be his constant companion.  Instead of kindly fluffy angels with halos and harps - his accompaniment is the eggnog that he had for Christmas, and the spinach dip that only he could imbibe.  Did I mention the fudge - yes the few pieces that were left on the kitchen counter and disappeared?  Those pieces drag behind him like chains kept on Jacob Marley!  You see he runs at a pace that frightens his fat.  One by one he severs those chains that hold him bound and the fat cells  begin to quiver and instead of waiting for the brutal task master to whip them and deride them - they commit suicide and throw themselves into the eternally burning oven of the Fat Man.  You see the Fat Man accumulated those pounds by honest laziness.  Ahhh it was a bowl of dip there, and roasted turkey there, and a late night chug of evil chocolate milk - and possibly some Eggnog waffles on a Saturday Morning when he should have been out on the long run.  Now he has to pay the piper.  Now that is something that the Fat Man can do!  He could listen to the fat cells cheering him on... or as the master of his own Roman Galley, he can start to beat the drum, lashing the frightened cells!  Oh you can hear the pace setting drum now.... Thump.  Thump. Thump.  And then it increases the pace... Thump.  Thump.  Thump.  And now you see the Orange Rolls from Thanksgiving shaking in their shackles begging to cast themselves into the fire.  Thump Thump Thump Thump.  Oh yes now the Birthday Cake is weeping on row 2 and it seems to have a tub of frosting and some sugar cookies next to it in the same row.  Slaving to to faster and faster.  Now you have lost the caramels, and the clam chowder... Thump Thump Thump!  Soon the beating of the oars in the water and the wailing fat cells begin to burst into flames to feed the Fat Man... for there is only one way in - and one way out... The Fat Man Runs...

Maximum Effort

What is too hard for you to do?  I was watching a WWII movie "Twelve o'clock High" and the question of what exactly constitutes a "Maximum Effort?"

Oh I am not wondering about how fast I can go - but for how long.  I am not wondering about how far the other man can go - it is how far I can go.  I am pretty sure that I will not be able to compete at the 2 hour mark with the Kenyans.  But I can compete against myself.

What am I built for?  Several years ago I began running.  It began as short distances.  Then it began to be something that wore out shoes.  I had never worn out a pair of "running" shoes in my life.  I did not know that you could only run a certain amount of miles before all your shoes were good for would be to walk to the mail box and back.  Destroying shoes became what I did.  Right now I am looking at my current pair and wondering if the tread is water tight or if a squall would leave the bottom of my feet wet.

So - I wear out the shoes - and what is the goal  Do I run the races?  Oh yes - there is hardware to spare.  Shirts too. lots of them.  But glory such as that is fleeting - hardware rusts, shirts stain and piles of shoes decorate the closet.

No, it is not for the detritus of the runner, but to become closer to what my Maximum Effort would be.  Previous running does not indicate success in todays run, but it does teach your body that you are serious.  Oh anyone can out and go a mile.  People walk a mile every day.  But can you go the distance?  Which distance do you want to go?  How fast do you want to get there?  Who are you competing with?  What effort, sweat, grind, sun, snow, rain, grass, terrain, or obstacle are you going to encounter?

I don't think the outside forces matter.  Oh I think that if you have hypothermia and delirium tremmons that yes that might begin to matter.  But you can dress for the cold, you can dress for the hot, you can haul gallons of water to cool your cooking exterior and you can down runners goo by the gallon to give you the pep in your step to get through the next mile or the next 50 miles.

What makes the difference is in your cranium.  Today I went out for a run.  Six miles.  Yesterday was a titch over four.  When you are on the run - your body knows what you are doing - pump, run, pump, run, breath.  Oh yes it knows what you are doing.  You can leave that part to the physical.  The mental part is where you can either succeed or fail.  That globe mounted directly over your shoulders is going to drive you harder and faster and at a more furious pace than you would ever logically condone.

So what do you tell yourself to get to the next block?  The next mile?  The next, next, next?  Oh that is the battle of wits and that of the goal.

Outrun your fears, drive yourself to Maximum Effort.  I at times think - what exactly am I doing today?  Riding a desk little Red Riding Hood.  Quit being a baby and push it up.  Some might call it "Trash Talking" but when you are the only one in the coliseum and it is you against yourself - it is time to answer the bell, time to dig in deep, time to sacrifice some pleasure of eating the endangered Twinkie and avoid an open heart surgery bypass.  Tick go the seconds, grind go the miles, and the goal is out there.  Taunting, beckoning, Embracing.  "Come along little runner, run with me..."

Crossing the T

So how do you "Cross The T?"

Crossing the T - Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia

Running is a lot like warfare - in my opinion.  Previous success is not an indicator of tomorrow's success - but it provides a basis for going out tomorrow to see IF you are successful.  I think that running long distances is something that not everyone does and that makes you unique.  Not everyone goes out for multiple mile distances  - or has the drive to do so. 

So I come back to "Crossing the T" and what it means to me today.  If you read the above linked article and read down to the the Battle of Surigao Strait This was the "last" time in Naval Warfare that a commander decided to "cross the T."  The US warships were successful in their execution of the maneuver and the Japanese - not so much.  So where does that leave us.  I think that we, as runners, go forward and make a plan - which may or may not succeed depending on us and our execution.  But putting the right parts and pieces on the board make us successful

You know what I am talking about?  Nutrition, rest, blah, blah, blah.  You need to have the right goo - shoes - and in the end you have to want to go out there and do it.  Momentum helps to propel you into a state of mind that will help you to gut out the run - and get through it.  Once you have momentum it is hard to stop.  It is hard to not get out and run - it is hard to not look at the miles you have run and know that you are building towards success.

Constant gardening of your time, speed, distance, nutrition, ability, body, mind, spirit - all of these ingredients make your run more successful.

Do we "Cross the T" every run?  I don't think so.  Some runs are "easier" than others.  Some of them are "harder" than others.  Some of them take more commitment than others - and still there are others that grind you down and pound on you.  Running is sometimes like ice cream.  So many flavors that you just reach out and grab one to taste. 

Today was a "crossing the T" run for me.  It was mile 18  this week and it was  something that you need to be there to appreciate.  Hot, out of water, tired, pushing an empty baby stroller, and you are rounding the bend in City Creek Canyon.  You know there is 1 mile left until the end.  But the sweat is beginning to drip off of all of you - and the sun in just at the right angle to pound down on you and you notice that you have begun to shuffle more than run.  You can stop.  You can walk.  You can sit down.  You can quit.  Or you can move it out and get to the end.  You can Cross the T - and bring all of you guts and your desire to bear on this one last mile.  Oh yes - I pick option two.  I keep going - even after my strength is sapped and my vision is blurred with sweat I keep it going.  I may not be as fast as the other runners - but my heart is bigger and my lungs fill with the air of endurance.

Give me two feet, some shoes and some suitable clothing and let me go the distance.