It’s a Long Way Home

By Nicole LeClair Jones

How far is far? Well, I guess that depends on what your definition of “is” is, or how you rationalize the term in front of a grand jury. Regardless of the definition, far is certainly a relative term.

People throw it around today like it’s nothing. Before the Lilac 10K, my daughter asked me, “Mom, how far are you running today?” I answered with something like, “It’s just 6 miles.”

Just 6.2 miles.

Which, compared to the little race at the end of October that I’m registered for, is 20 miles less. Maybe it’s just a case of the nerves, but mileage has been on my mind a lot lately.

This weekend, as I turned on to Cooley Road headed back to Brighton from Canandaigua, I thought to myself, in a few months I won’t be driving this — I’ll be running this.

Canandaigua to Brighton. Think about how far that is.

Head up Cooley Road, turn on New Michigan Road, turn on 444, up Route 96 through Victor, past Eastview Mall, through Bushnell’s Basin, along the canal, through Pittsford and up Monroe Avenue past Mario’s to the 12 Corners in Brighton.

Now that’s far.

So why do I run, and why do millions of others? What’s wrong with us?

And why do some people run to extremes? As if running a marathon isn’t enough, there’s now ultramarathons! Is it to experience moments of sanity and serenity, for the health benefits or just to achieve the fabled runner’s high?

When I read the book ‘Run: 26.2 Stories of Blisters and Bliss’ by Dean Karnazes, I gained a little insight as to why someone would run more than a marathon.

Adrenaline and addiction pretty much sums it up, but it’s still worth the read. Reminiscent of a Bill Bryson book, I read about Dean’s struggles at Badwater, an ultramarathon across Death Valley and how he prevailed. Dean had me laughing and crying, but most of all convinced that running, regardless of how far, is such a powerful experience we come back for more.

“Endurance is one of the most difficult disciplines, but it is the one who endures that the final victory comes.”  ― Dean Karnazes, Run!: 26.2 Stories of Blisters and Bliss

Nicole LeClair Jones is the Special Events Coordinator for Camp Good Days and Special Times, which serves children and families affected by cancer. She’s the mother of two young children, and an avid runner (5:50AM you’ll find her running somewhere) She serves as the race director for the Just Clowning Around 5K to benefit Camp Good Days. Contact her at reporternick@gmail.com if you’re ever looking for a running partner or if you’ve got a story idea.

 

The Running Dead

Fun at the Color Run 5k in Rochester, May 2013

As I write this, I am lying on the couch, sick.  It’s not just a garden-variety cold, but a Walking-Dead-ish, call-the-CDC plague with nasty, big pointy teeth.  The exhaustion is comical; I have to give myself a pep talk in order to complete such strenuous activities as blinking. It’s the kind of illness that makes you hate everyone around you who has the audacity to walk upright and breathe.  Jerks.

I rarely get sick now that I am a runner.  Not long ago, I would whine to my family about chronic little aches and pains — sore muscles, tender joints, all-around fatigue. Exercise? Ha! How could I, when I felt so lousy?  Working out was out of the question, I convinced myself.  It was only a matter of time before the inevitable weight gain began.  The additional pounds brought on additional health problems, like high blood pressure and depression, and in the human equivalent of chicken-and-egg, I was caught in a negative spiral that seemed to have no beginning and no end.  Too tired to get moving, I’d curl up on the couch and — oh, the irony — read fitness magazines.

One day, in a moment of clarity, I recalled advice from an old friend: “You will change when you’re sick and tired of being sick and tired.”  I suddenly realized how bored I was with my sedentary lifestyle. I am too young to feel this old, I told myself.  I summoned all my energy and courage, slipped on my old sneakers and took that long walk to the treadmill.  And from that first ugly quarter-mile slog six years ago, I began a lifelong journey back into health.

Here’s the paradox:  Running gives you energy, but you need energy to run.  And  what do you do when you are so energy-depleted that the thought of running to the mailbox seems like an impossible task?  On one hand, I see the wisdom of staying here on the couch, cozy in my son’s old Noah’s Ark blanket with my trusty cocker spaniel warming my feet.  My body can rest and restore itself.  On the other hand, I hear the siren’s song of birds in the field, summoning me to come out and fill my lungs with pure spring air.  A cleansing sweat from an invigorating run could be ambrosia for the body and soul.

Some people follow the “neck rule” concerning running: If you’re sick above the neck (sniffles, headache, sneezing, etc), go ahead and run.  If you’re sick below the neck (bronchitis, body aches, digestive tract, etc.), stay home and chill.  Unfortunately, this croup du jour has settled into my joints, lungs, spleen, uvula, eyeballs and hair follicles, so I’m not sure what I should do.  But I know I have to get back on the road soon.

I have several races lined up, including the Utica Boilermaker 15K, the Rochester River Chase 10 mile run and October’s Corning Wineglass Marathon (26.2 miles).  But the race I’m most excited about is a simple 3.1 miler — the Pat P.’s 5k on Thursday, July 18, in West Bloomfield. Patrick Parrish, a rising senior at Bloomfield High School, lost his life in a car accident last July. My students in the school’s International Baccalaureate program are hosting this race in his memory, with all proceeds going to a scholarship fund in his name.  It may be the shortest race on my list, but it is definitely the most meaningful one.  I refuse to let this “viral infection, unspecified” threaten my training plan.

I’m going to try a slow jog to the corner and back tomorrow. If all my body parts cooperate, I’ll add a little distance the next day. With my pasty flesh, dark under-eye circles and lumbering gait, I might look more like an extra in a zombie apocalypse movie than a marathoner-in-training, but it’s a start.  Wish me luck!  Stay healthy, my friends.

West Bloomfield resident Teresa Benoit Keyes has been running since 2006. At age 50, she is considered a Masters runner, which makes her laugh. She lives by the motto, “Run the mile you’re in,” and acknowledges that while she may never set any course records, she is still faster than people sitting on their couches. She can be contacted via Facebook.

Ready to Race

Chris Compson

by Chris Compson

It’s time to admit it, at least to ourselves. We runners are odd individuals. We bring new meaning to conventional words like quirky and obsessive. We monitor our miles like California seismologists in search of even the slightest quiver of disruption. We have particular socks we wear for trail runs or runs in the rain. We eat two waffles with an eighth of a cup of syrup precisely two hours before a long Sunday run. We are odd.

In most instances, there is logic behind our quirkiness. Our mileage follows a plan. Our “rain socks” never cause blisters. Our waffles provide just the right combination of carbohydrates and simple sugars to get us through 20 miles. To fellow runners, our behavior seems as benign as checking our shoelaces three times and finally tucking the bunny-ears into the tongue for added security. However, one oddity of the running community has always perplexed me – the runner that never races.

I have met countless members of this “runner non-racer” cohort, and I always feel that they are missing out on one of running’s greatest characteristics, the community.  Invariably, they avoid “racing” because they do not feel like they are fast enough, don’t enjoy competition, or are afraid they will look silly. I understand all these fears even after decades of competitive racing. But what outweighs all these fears is the joy of the camaraderie and spirit of a great race. Three weeks ago, after finishing the Toronto marathon, I sat in the food tent and could not help but smile despite exhaustion, pain, and missing a PR by ninety seconds; again, as I watched thousands of fellow runners revel in the spirit of the marathon.

Races reveal the unique celebration that is running. For most of us, a race is never “against” anyone, it is a chance for everyone. Races allow us to test our limits or simply enjoy an experience that is otherwise absent on our daily runs. Races speak to our primal pack instinct which is unleashed in its full glory when the starter’s pistol fires. In my experience, there is nothing that stirs the runner’s soul quite like a great race, which is why the following races should be fixtures on every runner’s calendar.

The Utica Boilermaker (15k – July 14 – http://www.boilermaker.com)

I book my hotel reservation for the next Boilermaker when I checkout after running that year’s race…I do not miss a Boilermaker. The Boilermaker is a unique chance for recreational runners to join Olympians in the atmosphere of a world-class event. The citizens of Utica turn out by the thousands and the roar of applause, cowbells, and celebration lasts from the canon-shot start to the F.X. Matt brewery finish.

The Rochester River Chase (10-mile – August 17 – http://www.gvh.net)

Full disclosure, I am one of the Rochester River Chase race directors, but this event promises to bring a unique excitement to the upstate race calendar. The River Chase will feature a wave start with the fastest runners starting last. This “anyone can win” environment should make for a truly memorable experience for all participants as they “chase” to the finish. Combined with a great post-race party and scenic route and you have the ingredients for a tremendous celebration of the running spirit.

Any weekend 5k!! (check local running calendars)

Often we think that to experience the glories of running we need to travel far and wide in search of something with the words “Warrior,” “Tough,” or “Rock & Roll” in the title.  However, one of the greatest pleasures of racing is seeing that Saturday’s forecast calls for bright sunshine and a high of 75 and simply jumping-in a 5k that starts a mile from your house. Some of the most fun races I have run have been race-day whims and are reminders that despite our obsessiveness, oddities, and innumerable quirks, there are hundreds of other equally odd individuals out there every weekend waiting to celebrate with you! Embrace the Race!

Chris Compson has run at the state, national and international level and spent several years coaching beginning runners. He would love to hear your comments and questions. Please send responses to clcruns@gmail.com

 

The Company You Keep

By Nicole LeClair Jones

Birds of a feather flock together. Qui se ressemble, s’assemble’, or so the French proverb goes. It’s so true. In life. In running. Just think about it.

Hang out with couch potatoes; you’ll be a couch potato.

Hang out with a bunch of runners, and guess what, you’ll be a runner.

I’m living proof.

For years I never really challenged myself. Merely plodded along; status quo. Life was comfortable, I was comfortable, and I was that couch potato.

Then I was introduced to two simple words; Push Yourself.

I began to surround myself with people who believe that ‘Push Yourself’ can change the world. It’s certainly changed mine.

Push Yourself. You can use it in just about any context, in any situation, any time of day or night. It’s not just a running thing. It’s a life thing.

A few years ago I ran as part of a team in the Fly By Night Duathlon down in Watkins Glen. I drove down, ran the three legs and drove home. No celebration involved, just a run, and a struggle at that.

Now, insert Push Yourself two years later.

Again, I ran as a team, ran my three legs, but pushed myself as hard as I possibly could — I’m talking ALL OUT — ran my butt off! The whole time, thinking to myself “Push Yourself, Push Yourself” It was the same race, but a totally different experience.

Surrounding yourself with people who want to succeed, who push themselves both mentally and physically is ultimately the challenge. It’s easy to roll in with a crowd that doesn’t constantly strive to be the best at everything they do.

Just this morning, I caught a little bit of Marti’s morning show on Fickle 93.3. She was talking about her 100 mile ride for Missing and Exploited Children this past weekend, and her positivity was absolutely contagious. Sign me up I thought after hearing her! Marti was talking about how she broke down the ride into different stages — rather than looking at it as a huge 100 mile ride; celebrating success at each of the seven stops. Clearly, Marti pushes herself, because I saw her at the Lilac 5K the day after the ride. Crazy lady!

Maybe I’m the eternal optimist, because I’d like to think that we all have what it takes to Push Yourself. It’s just digging deep enough to reveal it. I’m happy to say, I’ve dug pretty deep over the last few years and found the company I keep, I mean really keep, helps me push myself every day.

Nicole LeClair Jones is the Special Events Coordinator for Camp Good Days and Special Times, which serves children and families affected by cancer. She’s the mother of two young children, and an avid runner (5:50AM you’ll find her running somewhere) She serves as the race director for the Just Clowning Around 5K to benefit Camp Good Days. Contact her at reporternick@gmail.com if you’re ever looking for a running partner or if you’ve got a story idea.

Runner’s knee a pain you shouldn’t push through

Instead of pacing the 1:50 group in the Flower City Half Marathon, as I had done in the 1st 3 years of the race, I led the 5k on my bike.

Studies vary widely, but it is estimated that between 30 and 80 percent of regular runners are injured in a given year. Some studies have reported that the injury percentage increases to 90 percent of those training for a marathon. The most common running injury? Most all sources I have explored report runner’s knee.

Why am I so knowledgeable on this topic? Because for the last three months much of the time I have customarily spent marathon training has instead been spent researching and rehabbing a case of runner’s knee.

It all began with a twinge in my knee in mid-February in the midst of training for the Boston Marathon. In the past I have recovered quickly from (shin splints, groin pull, ankle sprain) or been able to run through (Achilles tendonitis, plantar fascitis, hamstring strain) injuries which hobbled fellow runners for long periods of time. So I figured the combination of ART (Active Release Technique) from my chiropractor, the cure for so many prior running ills, and the tried and true runner’s remedy of “RICE” (rest/ice/compression/elevation) would get my knee back to 100 percent in no time.

Success (or so I thought) less than two weeks after feeling my first twinge I not only ran the Lake Effect Half Marathon in Syracuse, but ran a personal best and won my age group. My knee felt pretty darn good. Maybe a little forced rest during marathon training was a blessing!

I ran so well in the half, I had to be cured, right? The continued knee twinges-had to be the last vestiges of runner’s knee, which I had beaten just like my prior injuries. Time to push it again-Boston was only seven weeks away. The stellar half could only portend a stellar Boston-qualify for 2014 at worst, hopefully PR and maybe even break the 3:20 barrier!

But as goes the old Yiddish proverb, “Man plans and God laughs.” My knee became sore again, this time both while active and at rest. Think of sharp pebbles between your skin and kneecap. Though I continued ART and RICE, and based on Internet research added strengthening and stretching, the pain continued, and my running waned from 5 times to twice a week. Running, my savior, became pure agony, constant pain, limping-instead of mentally rejuvenating it became mentally exhausting!

On March 24, I finally accepted reality. My attempt at a final 20 mile run before Boston ceased at 16, mentally exhausted, my knee aching. The Boston Marathon 2013 (many in hindsight saying fortuitously) was not to be.

So the last month-and-a-half, when I expected to run so many of my favorite races — Spring Forward, Boston, the Flower City Half — I instead spent in physical therapy and on the elliptical and bike. Not surprisingly, I didn’t listen to my physical therapist and pushed myself too hard Boston weekend, which ended up setting me back weeks.

Just a few days ago I saw no end in sight. But with the cautious approval of my physical therapist I participated in the Fly By Night Duathlon Saturday, and I ran almost pain free!

I’m not ready to call myself cured. Just hope with continued PT and by running “smart” I will have my revenge in the summer and fall. So this is definitely a story “to be continued,” with the hope and expectation of a happy ending!

Steve Levitsky is a lawyer by day, runner by night. He has run hundreds of races, ranging from 5k to 50 miles, and ranks his greatest running accomplishment as qualifying for and running the 2012 Boston Marathon (which he will repeat in 2013). Steve welcomes feedback and story ideas at stevenblevitsky@aol.com.

Our Running Marriages

Chris Compson

by Chris Compson

“Trust and honesty – the keys to a successful marriage.” I read this on a magazine cover in a checkout aisle, right above “Best Celebrity Summer Bodies” and “Scandals that Rocked 2012!” I admit the irony was humorous, but there are probably few of us who would argue those tenants are not key to any relationship, not just matrimony. Perhaps this is one reason why runners are constantly comparing their relationship to running in nuptial terms. Our marriages to running teach us innumerable lessons (some of which are vital to our civil unions as well, like unexpected words of encouragement are sometimes the most meaningful and running shorts are not suitable for all occasions). However, two of the most important lessons that running teaches us are trust and honesty.

Running is an indiscriminate humbler. In this manner, it is the most honest sport on the planet. Regardless of age, experience, or talent, running does not grant anyone a “free pass.” In other athletic arenas, you can get lucky. In fact, I have based my entire approach to the sport of golf on the “luck” principle, as anyone who has seen me swing a club can attest. But there is little “luck” in running. Certainly, we might get lucky with pristine weather on race day or with a welcome tailwind in the last mile of a marathon, but if you base your race plan on “luck” you are in for a long morning. Running teaches us to be honest, especially with ourselves.

A few years ago, after a summer of sub-par training, I signed up for a half-marathon to start the fall racing season. I knew I had not put in the work necessary to run my best, but nevertheless I took off with the lead pack. After the first seven or eight miles went by and I was still feeling comfortable with the pace car in sight, I began to think that perhaps I was wrong. Perhaps the few interval sessions and half a dozen longs runs were enough. Maybe I was ready for this after all. “Heck,” I thought, “maybe I will even get lucky and win this thing.” No sooner had these words passed through my head than my lucky-streak came to a crashing halt, as did my pace. For the last three miles, I argued with my body and cursed my foolishness. Running reminds us of the value of honesty, and the price of deceit, often in a terribly painful manner.

Running’s brutal honesty is one of the reasons that it teaches us the importance of trust so thoroughly. Waking up early every weekend, trudging forth in rain, snow, and sleet, passing on a Friday night with friends, are all small acts of trust. In many of life’s endeavors, we receive timely, if not immediate, feedback that lets us know our actions have been worth it. From a paycheck to a “thank you,” we are rewarded for our efforts. Running is different. It does not often say thank you, and even more rarely provides a paycheck. So we are left to trust that the miles spent on dimly lit streets and soggy trails will eventually pay off. We step to the starting line and have to trust wholeheartedly that we are ready when the gun goes off.

The honesty and trust required to be a successful runner at any level is what makes running such a special and unique experience. It is what challenges us to be the best version of ourselves, even if it is only for the duration of a race. And perhaps, in the process, it even helps us to be better spouses, though the pile of muddy shoes and dirty laundry in my basement might argue otherwise.

Chris Compson has run at the state, national and international level and spent several years coaching beginning runners. He would love to hear your comments and questions. Please send responses to clcruns@gmail.com

Not So Fast … But That’s Alright

We were stretching out after our six-mile run when Aunt Bev phoned. She had heard about the tragedy in Boston and – get this – was worried I was running there.  At such a dark time, this was a terrific moment of comic relief, as I laughed so hard I snorted Gatorade through my nose.  Corey assured her I was safe; thankfully, he didn’t add that I’m not fast enough to volunteer at a water station at the Boston Marathon, let alone run the darn thing.

To paraphrase the famous Olympian Boromir of Gondor, one does not simply run in the Boston Marathon.  One must qualify.  Most avid runners know their BQ – the cutoff time they need to make before they can even try to register for race. Other races around the country lure participants with the prestige of being a Boston-Qualifying course.  Slow runners like me simply don’t have a prayer.  To put it in perspective, this year’s winner, Lelisa Desisa, could have run the race, run it again, caught the T-Line back to his hotel, freshened up and ordered his celebratory Moet & Chandon before I crossed the finish line.  Yeah, I’m that slow.

I began training for my first marathon 18 weeks before the event.  A challenge of that magnitude required putting virtually everything else in my life on hold.  Guilt would wash over me as I’d leave the house for another long run, dust bunnies waving encouragingly from their baseboard homes.  I could feel the icy glare of my neglected garden gnomes, left to battle invasive weeds on their own.  If my supportive husband had not been the family cook to begin with, I am sure the Department of Social Services would have had me on its watch list.

I ran three days a week and took my LSD on Saturdays.  (Long Slow Distance run … what did you think I meant?)  On a good day, I’d run a 10:44 mile, so running a dozen miles would easily take more than two hours. Tack on pre-run prep and post-run recovery, shower and laundry, and I was lucky to have more than a few hours for anything but Advil-induced couch surfing.

When I completed the September Wine Glass Marathon in 5:07:45, I felt a sense of accomplishment I still cannot describe. The run, and the training leading up to it, was the most transformational, affirming experience of my life.  I certainly wasn’t first over the finish line, but I made it over that line.  I was euphoric … until I read a runners’ forum post the following week.

An acquaintance congratulated me and commented that there weren’t many people in the world who could claim to have finished a marathon.  Curious, I went online to look for statistics and found a discussion on the topic.  I found this:

“Don’t bother counting anyone who finished in more than five hours.  That’s not really running, is it? It’s more like fast walking.”

I was stunned, hurt and ashamed.  So I wasn’t a “real runner,” after all.  My slow, plodding pace didn’t count.  I admit, that one comment threw me off for months.  I sunk into a depression. I wouldn’t talk about the marathon unless pressed.  Eventually, I stopped running altogether.  It took months of soul-searching and about $800 in retail therapy to come to peace with it.

I concluded two things:  First, the jerk who posted that comment is probably compensating for something. Second, I’m not an elite runner.  Unless I get bionic body parts, I’m probably never going to reach my BQ (4:00:00 for women ages 50-54).  But I’m still going to lace up my shoes and run, because I am a runner, and that’s what runners do.   If you happen to be faster, great! Just wave as you pass by, and wait for me at the finish line.  I’ll get there eventually.

West Bloomfield resident Teresa Benoit Keyes has been running since 2006. At age 50, she is considered a Masters runner, which makes her laugh. She lives by the motto, “Run the mile you’re in,” and acknowledges that while she may never set any course records, she is still faster than people sitting on their couches. She can be contacted via Facebook.

Sarah Williams, Heather Ruger, Michelle Spring and I joined others around the world to run in solidarity with the people of Boston (April 17).