The NCR Trail Marathon

Ugh.  It was ugly.  It was almost as ugly as the Presque Isle, Erie, PA, marathon we did a couple years ago in October.  Both were flat, both were in cool weather.  Both should have been easy because of that.  But both entailed repetition, covering the same territory.  And both were done while my weight was elevated.  I have no idea how much I weighed during the Erie Marathon, well maybe I do but I'm not saying.  It was at least ten more than I weigh now, I think.  And for every pound you carry over what you should be to be fit, that slams down on the ground, reverberating up your body many times over your actual weight.

It is tough to be a fat runner.  I know from experience.  But here I am, once again attempting to out run my fork.

For the NCR Trail Marathon I was up maybe five or seven pounds more than for the Baltimore Marathon last month. And I felt it.  It took me maybe a half hour longer than the Baltimore Marathon.  My right foot didn't hurt as bad as it did with the Erie Marathon, but like the Erie Marathon, I psyched out around the 14 mile mark.  That's pretty early to be mentally dumping the race. In the Baltimore Marathon I knew the race route, knew my city, felt good despite the heat and the hills.  I did good for me, for what my usual timing is on a marathon.

But in the month between the Baltimore Marathon and the NCR Trail Marathon I put on pounds, I began eating comfort food, I felt stressed with my daughter's wedding planning and venue hunt (and the upcoming costs for her and for us and the fact she couldn't/wouldn't make decisions whereas I make them pretty quickly and live with them), and stressed with our house hunting, first in Delaware and now, focusing on North Carolina in the mountains. (OK, so maybe I am dragging my feet on the house selection, waiting for just the right fit, just as my daughter is dragging her feet on the ceremony and reception venues, waiting for just the right fit).

Also, I was physically beat up coming into the NCR Trail Marathon.  I carried two big piles of our possessions which were in boxes and bags in our friends three story attic.  I placed them all on the bottom floor near the door while Dave was out golfing.  Most of those boxes were full of books.  Heavy.  I did all this by myself, except for a couple larger items that Dave helped me with the next day. Then we loaded it all in our old motorcycle trailer and drove it all to our storage shelter and packed it all in.  More lifting.  I felt my age because my back and neck were very sore from carefully navigating the three flights of stairs, trying to avoid bumping into framed paintings and plants. This was the Tuesday and Wednesday before the NCR Trail Marathon. I began taking Tylenol and was on the mend but not quite there.

The NCR Trail marathon is a small marathon, maybe 600 runners between it and the half marathon run that started on much the same route and just ten minutes after the marathoners took off.  It might be around the same size as the Erie marathon.  Both are definitely small compared to the Baltimore, or the mother of all marathons, the Marine Corps Marathon.  Why would that be important, you might ask?  Because if you're slow like me, you risk being the last one in.

Who cares, I should ask?  Well, me.  But let's look at that.  Of all the people in the world, how many never even consider running a marathon?  How many are overweight, content to nurse bad habits of ill health, laying on couches watching sports instead of participating, dropping potato chips between the cushions, dribbling ice cream on their clothes?

Of all the people who decide they want to run a marathon, how many even finish the training and show up for the race?  Of those, how many finish?  We've now whittled the population down to a, yes, I'm going to use this phrase - elite few.

So I have always known I was a slugger, a slogger.  Slow runners sometimes refer to themselves as penguins which is funny because that is how we look running so slow our feet barely seem to be moving us ahead. Penguin runners come in all sizes and shapes and ages.  But I think of myself as an old clydesdale.  I'm big and strong and not meant for speed. I'm slow and sure despite my aging frame. I get the job done.  I always have.

Next to the slender, truly elite athletes I look out of place.  When they quit a marathon it is because they are having an off day and are afraid of injuring themselves.  I have always finished what I start. Knock on wood. I say I will crawl to the finish if I have to. That is an exaggeration, but I am not too proud to walk, to try to cover a limp, to put on a smile to cover my grimmace. I know I can do long distances by hiking, running, walking.  I can get the job done.  But the mental part of knowing people are waiting for me, that I might be holding race volunteers up from shutting down the race and going home, holding up family members and friends who are finished and ready to leave, that bothers me some and I fight those thoughts as I make my way down the path, suffering but stubborn.

Dave volunteered at the NCR Trail Marathon, along with our son and grandson.  They were all at the 5 mile mark which was also the 21 mile mark since the NCR Trail Marathon, run on the NCR Rail Trail, is an up and back run.  Dave said all the other volunteers, members of the sponsoring Baltimore Road Runners Club, knew each other and probably most were truly elite runners.  Dave said some where commenting that people who run 12 minute miles or over shouldn't even be doing marathons.  I'd like to say shame on them for their impatience, their long view down their noses towards those of us who are also fellow runners just trying to accomplish something difficult in our lives, maybe the most challenging thing we've ever done.  Runners coming in last in marathons are struggling.  It takes lots of guts to be last.  The pain is ugly, and we do it knowing most everyone else is finished.  We are stragglers.  Dave said he gave one elite runner a ride from the 21 mile mark back to the finish line because he said he just didn't have it that day and didn't want to injure himself.  He made sure to declare that he'd run ultras, finished hundred mile races before.  He wanted people to know he wasn't a loser.  Whoop-t-do. He didn't finish the NCR Trail Marathon and I did.

I remember once lamenting after Airborne School that my roommate there was discharged out of the military due to shin splints so bad that it made her physically unfit to continue in the Army.  She had just come out of Officer Candidate School and those were the days of running in combat boots for everything.  Her legs were all beat up by months of running on asphalt in non-running gear.  She was a much more gifted runner than I was, faster by a lot.

Yet I graduated jump school and she did not.  Survival of the fittest, I was told.

The Baltimore Marathon

So I have another marathon under my belt.  It wasn't pretty, and none of them have been. By pretty, I mean that I don't run fast.  I did 12+ miles and from the time I ran my first marathon at age 22 until now at age 58, I can say that I am nothing if not consistent in my times.  I stay right around the 5:30 finish time, maybe ten minutes earlier, and once, ten minutes slower. 

Aren't these medals cool?  A crab.  Opens.  Fort McHenry on the inside. Once, when I was still on Face Book, a friend from somewhere else in the US complained about her experience at a professional baseball or football game where her team played Baltimore.  She thought it was disrespectful that the Baltimore fans shouted a loud "O" for Orioles when the words "Oh" comes along towards the end of the anthem.  I wanted to jump in and respond to her, explaining that Baltimore is where Francis Scott Key's poem that became our National Anthem was written.  He was captive in a British ship sitting outside city listening to the "rockets red glare" and knowing that our flag still stood as long as the Brits were still fighting.  Our Baltimore homies were defending the city.  Like they are still today, they are rough and tough, and disdained by many so-called gentle folk across the country.  People are afraid of Baltimore, our crime rate.  But we are proud of our city, proud of our heritage.  And our homies have a special relationship with our National Anthem.  It is not a lack of respect, but a feeling of ownership, of pride.  That's our song.  Those are our words.  The woman, the so-called friend who insulted our fans doesn't think very deeply or she'd have realized all that I just said.  She is too suburbanized. She is a mall girl.  She doesn't know shit.

 In the picture below I am skipping along as I approach Fells Point and see Mike Beckner, the owner, and a good friend, of the B.O.P.  (Baltimore's Brick Oven Pizza).  He was standing at the intersection watching.  I gave him a big sweaty hug.  This was right around the 15 mile mark. 

 I love my city.

Long Fun Runs & Finding Bottle Caps

With two marathons coming up this fall you'd think I'd be seriously training.  But then, that would show that you don't know me very well.  I've never seriously trained for a marathon or even the 50K. I'm not bragging; I'm not a fast runner.  I'm just saying; I don't care that I'm not a fast runner.

My training style for years was just to do around six miles a day and maybe up to a ten now and again. Now my style is just doing long walks with an effort to put in a 15 mile run here and there, hopefully one a week.

But now I am morphing to just a long fun run which is really a combination of running and walking.  I stop to collect old beer bottle tops off the ground, many smashed flat, some packed with mud on the underside, some twisted, some so old they are fully rusted with no previous color evident.  You can't tell what flavor they capped.  I like the patina on those and the slightly lumpy bumpiness on the generally flattened cap.  

I find bottle caps all over the place, in parking lots in upscale neighborhoods, outside package stores and bars, along the highway, on trails in the woods and along bike paths.  But mother lodes can be had around neighborhood trash bins, but mostly in neighborhoods that have seen better days.  Mother lodes also appear near industrial or working class venues as if the employees get off work and down a few cold ones before hitting the road.  Or maybe at lunch and after work.  

I am going to use the beer bottle tops for some kind of art project, a sculpture of some type.  I'm not sure yet. 

Fifteen Miles and a Spotted Sandpiper

We are still in the Fairbanks, Alaska area.  I went for a 15 mile run on Fort Wainwright and saw this little spotted sandpiper.  In fact, it ran with me a little while.  It must have a nest nearby. 

Fifteen Miles and Three Moose

I ran 15 miles on Fort Wainwright, taking the river road along the Chena River.  A momma moose and two of her calves crossed the road in front of me.  

Running Long & The Long Run

My plan is to run two marathons this Fall, the Baltimore Marathon in October and in November, the Torrey C. Brown/North Central Rail Trail Marathon east of the I-83 corridor in Baltimore County.  That one is particularly well scheduled - the Saturday after Thanksgiving. I love the idea of a marathon right after Thanksgiving.  You may not outrun your fork but as long as you are thinking about running and staying in shape to run a marathon, you are better off than just approaching and passing through the Thanksgiving holiday porking out. 

I thought I was done with marathons.  And now we have two on the schedule.  The idea hatched to run another marathon a few days after we'd volunteered at the Donna Marathon, "the marathon to end breast cancer" when we were in Jacksonville, Florida this past winter. In the running packets at the Donna Marathon, we stuffed each competitor's goodie bag with a hard covered book.  It wasn't any ordinary running book.  It had a pink dust jacket for one thing.  It was memoir written by Donna Deegan, a former JAX TV anchor and three-time breast cancer survivor who was also an avid distance runner with many marathons to her credit.

There were many books left over when we began to shut down the expo and we volunteers were encouraged to take as many as we wanted.  I grabbed a couple and sent one to a friend in Baltimore who was an avid runner.  When I contacted her to let her know the book was coming, I found out she hadn't ever run a marathon. She has run at least one mile a day, no matter the weather or her life situation, for at least six years.  She is a fast runner and can smoke a lot of guys and a lot of younger folks at distances of 10K and 5K.

During our on-line discussion of running we decided to run a marathon together and I suggested the Torrey C. Brown/North Central Rail Trail marathon since it is small, mostly flat and has a soft surface of crushed rock and packed dirt and is scenic and mostly private. I was aware of the Baltimore marathon in October but from having run the Baltimore half marathon several years ago, and from having lived in Baltimore, I knew that route was pretty hilly and all asphalt which is hard on the body and can be pretty hot if it turns out to be unseasonably warm.  We discussed the pros and cons of a popular marathon versus a small quiet one like the Torrey C. Brown/North Central Rail Trail marathon.  I know that first marathons sometimes work better for people who want or need the constant cheering, like the Marine Corps Marathon, which is known as the People's Marathon and is almost totally lined with cheering people the whole way.  But there was something that had been pulling at me, something very appropriate about running a marathon the weekend after Thanksgiving.  And since I've walked/run and bicycled the Torrey C. Brown/North Central Rail Trail route a few times, I looked forward to getting into my zen zone and anticipated that my friend might enjoy the peace and serenity of the route as well. The route is tree lined and has the Gunpowder Falls river lining parts of it. We would be embraced by Mother Nature instead of crowds of people. 

But unbeknownst to me, my friend had also signed up for the Baltimore marathon on the sly.  She wanted to make sure she could run the distance before running one with me.  She had asked me not to tell anyone we were running a marathon together in case she couldn't finished.   My reassurances to her fell on deaf ears.  So imagine my surprise when I contacted her to tell her I'd decided to run the Baltimore marathon as well, and learned she'd already signed up for it.  It is still a secret from others so I won't mention her name. 

My decision to run the Baltimore marathon took place when we visited Connecticut last month to see our son and his family.  He is a Coastie and an avid runner.  He's the one who got us started running the Ragnar Relays, which got me into being OK with staying stinky for a couple days at a time and sleeping on the ground and grabbing food whenever we could and our bodies allowed it.  That all started Dave and I on the road, literally, where we live now, traveling in our truck and 38 foot fifth wheel toy hauler trailer - no traditional home to return to. So when we discussed the Baltimore Running Festival and how my daughter and her boyfriend were going to run the 5K and that they had great "crab medals" which were even cooler for the marathon, an idea was hatched to make it a family event.  Nick was interested in running that marathon.  I told him I'd run it with him if he signed up.  So my husband and I, and our good friend Ian, being the good sport that he is, all signed up to run the Baltimore marathon, part of the October 2017 Baltimore Running Festival.  My granddaughter may run the 5K and our son's sister-in-law may run the Baltimore Half Marathon.  A family event! 

As for family running events, my other son who lives in Maryland, and our daughter-in-law, signed up to run the half marathon portion of the Torrey C. Brown/North Central Rail Trail running event the day after Thanksgiving.

So both events will be family running events.

I am gearing up for these events.  In addition to my distance walking, I'm throwing in some running distances.  I've run two back to back ten mile days which worked and felt great, surprisingly.  I didn't really plan to do the second day of ten miles. It was a cool and foggy morning and we were at a nearby park with miles of trails through the woods.  My husband and one of our friends were kayaking in the lake.  I ran loops in the woods until they texted me to say they'd hit the beach and were done for the day.  When I checked my Fitbit, I'd done ten miles of small hills. 

A few days later I went out on the roads and did 15 miles.  My new thing is to start out walking but with my running clothes and shoes, and with my Camelbak.  I don't necessarily go out to do a long run or any run, just to go out and walk and maybe run if I feel like it.  There is something about that that works for me.  I start walking which I enjoy. I look around and enjoy nature.  There is no pressure to knock out a run.  Pretty soon I feel like breaking in to a run.  I've also mentally added decision points along my route, so that I am not mentally forced to run 15 miles.  I can hit a certain intersection  and decide to bypass the extension or to turn back.  I have a 15 mile route outlined with the help of my Fitbit but segments can be lopped off.  This works great mentally. 

The idea of doing these long runs now and then, rather than a focused marathon training program was born in part due to some of my reading about ultra runners and how they train, and partly due to our plans to drive to Alaska and travel around there this summer.  It is hard to maintain a set running program when you are traveling thousands of miles.  And when you are passing through grizzly territory, you think twice about where you choose to do a long run.  So thus, I figured if I got a couple of ten mile days in each week, or one 15 or better day, I should be able to be in good enough shape to do the marathons this fall. 

So that is how I am working to outrun my fork.  Actually, I fully believe there is no such thing as outrunning your fork long term.  You can do it when you are hiking everyday for several months.  But those friends who have done that and hit that beautiful point where they just can get enough calories and can eat anything they want and as much of it as they can stand when they hit a town, find that a couple months after their hike has finished, they've put back on much if not all of the weight they lost while hiking.  I am in it for the long run now.  I record my weight each day in a journal and record what I ate the day before.  I am slowly going down in weight.  I am down 25 pounds from where I was last Spring this time.  I have 19 more to go.  At one time I was as close as 15 more to go.  I keep going up and down the same five or six pounds.  I am learning, with this slow boat of ups and downs on my waves of food craves, to eat what my body can manage and to manage my weight and gradual weight loss.  It is the right way to do it.  For me. 

I will never again go up 25 pounds.  This is permanent. 

My Long Walks

My walking goal is up to 7 miles a day.  I don't always make it but more often than not, I do. 

Here are some of the scenes I have seen recently.

And yes, this Santa suit was a little random.  It was hanging from a fence in a well kept but probably seldom used Howard County park near Woodbine, Maryland, on the banks of the North Patapsco River.

And below, is a water bottle that we enjoyed seeing.  It's not everyday you get to see folks with like mind who aren't shy about minority beliefs in this country.