2017 Year in Review
“It’s very
rewarding to feel and see progress. I am
going to put my head down and keep plugging away. I believe the best is yet to come.” - Shalane
Flanagan, U.S. Olympian and 2017 NYC Marathon winner.
Firstly, hats
off to Shalane and her inspiring and emotional win at this year’s NYC Marathon,
the first American woman to do so in forty years; and to Meb Keflezighi, retiring
from a storied marathoning career. Secondly,
as 2017 comes to an uninspiring close, I can only look forward to 2018 with a positive
and optimistic outlook to my running. I still
have the burning desire to pursue an unfulfilled challenge – to qualify for the
Boston Marathon. That begs the $64,000
question. Will it happen anytime soon?
Allow
me to get off the subject at hand for a second. Throughout my college career many moons ago, I
had to endure some statistics courses as a requisite for my engineering degree. I once had a professor who called it
“sadistics” who took pleasure watching his students writhe with problem sets
and exams.
There’s a
statistical phenomenon called “reversion to the mean” signifying that the
greater the deviation of a random variable from its mean, the greater the
probability that the next measured variable will deviate less far. Simply put, an extreme event is likely to be
followed by a less extreme event. Think of
it as an outlier. But I digress.
Successfully
completing eleven marathons throughout the 2016 calendar year, in addition to
checking-off ten additional states seemingly as fast as a viral epidemic
proliferates the nation, turned out to be a tough row to hoe. On the flip side, traversing the country from
California to Georgia to Maine and to the Land of the Midnight Sun, Alaska, crossing
multiple time zones was a great way to see the country while racking up thousands
of air miles. Because of the hectic year
and feverish traveling, my wife and I decided to cut the number of 2017 marathons
basically in half, completing just five states, in hopes of improving our finishing
times and healing our bodies while still focusing our attention to conclude our
fifty-state quest by 2020.
The year
brought with it some good runs, some bad runs and some mediocre runs, but
nothing was more satisfying than knocking off the four remaining Midwest states
in the heart of the Corn Belt and one New England state, as well as four local
half marathons, serving in the capacity of a pace leader. Oh, those half marathons – so, so enjoyable.
I understand
that the ideal runner and sub-four hour person still resides in my inner self,
but for some reason, seems to be afraid to set aside his agoraphobic affinities
to make himself recognized. Hopefully,
opportunity will knock on the proverbial door during the new calendar year. I will delightedly let that person pass
through.
I closed out
last year by running more miles throughout the course of a year than ever
before. After the hectic, exhausting and
grueling traveling schedule, I happily wound up the year in November with a
local inaugural marathon, albeit a dreadful heat related disastrous performance
that wreaked havoc on my body and psyche.
I looked forward to a four-month rest break for both physical and mental
convalescence.
Where I live in
California, early April brings warm pleasant temperatures and a rebirth as
nature reawakens after a long winter nap.
Bright flowers on the fruit and nut trees paint the landscape with their
cheerful colors. Our apian friends are
hard at work and the hues of the region’s Blossom Trail attraction are at its
peak symbolizing a new beginning. It’s a
magnificent time of the year (at least for the non-allergy folks) and hopefully
a new beginning for my marathoning.
Predictably, I found
April in New England is nowhere near the splendor of April in Central
California. Although their floral
springtime blooms have yet to expose themselves to the outside world, what I do
know, it’s marathon time!
We christened
the new season in April with a trip to Boston.
With my wife being lucky and fortunate enough to gain entry into her
fifth Boston Marathon, we hinted to ourselves about incorporating a separate
marathon in a new state that coincided with our Boston experience.
Following two
local half marathons serving to whet our appetites for our upcoming 2017
marathon adventures, my wife and I entered the annual running of the Newport
Rhode Race in Newport, RI during Patriot’s Day weekend leading up to the much
celebrated and renowned Boston Marathon.
From my perspective,
I love visiting Boston with its rich historical significance to this country. In mid-April, marathon excitement rings in
the air, and there is always something around to remind you of race day. It can be a special time for the fortunate
runners who secured an entry. Although I
can only show my support by looking on from a distance, I still enjoy the
atmosphere and hoopla (the expo, visiting Hopkinton, taking photos at the
finish line, etc.)
I staked out my
vantage point alongside the endless protective barriers lining Beacon Street adjacent
to the Green Line train tracks all but a few blocks from Coolidge Corner nearly
an hour before the elite women runners made their presence, in the meantime,
watching the wheelchair athletes whiz past at high rates of speed. The high-spirited crowd waited with
anticipation hoping to catch a glimpse or snap a few photos of Meb, Galen Rupp,
Des Linden, or perhaps some friends or family members. The gods of the sport headlining the day were
amazing and made running look so easy, unforced and effortless.
Ironically, the
Newport Rhode Race coincided with the fourth anniversary of the Boston bombing
tragedy. It was evident auras of sadness
radiated from runners during a moment of silence shortly before the race start. I believe that moment meant more to me than
most since I was there on that fateful day waiting in the crowds for my wife to
emerge from the finish line crowd, dazed, confused and alarmed of what had
happened. The chaotic nature of the
aftermath is something that will live with me forever.
The picturesque
beauty of the course along the seaside shores of Rhode Island’s Aquidneck
Island overshadowed the melancholy I felt before the marathon start. The weather and setting were picture-perfect for
a marathon.
The cool
morning air fortified by the sea breezes off Narragansett Bay made the first
half of the marathon an enjoyable experience.
But as time passed, the hills and the bright April sunshine slowly eroded
my efforts to secure a great second half time split. My fatigue levels seemed to grow
exponentially, overwhelming my focus and drive.
At times, I resorted to some mind games to get me through some difficult
miles. Of course, the leg cramps I
suffered during the last few miles undeniably added to my running struggles. My finish time certainly reflected the weariness
I felt during the second half.
What seemed
like barely enough time to wash the crusty salt off my face, it was off to the
Land of Oz to run the Garmin Marathon in Olathe, KS the following week. I grew excited about Kansas and the thought
of being in the state brought back some childhood memories such as the Wizard
of Oz or beliefs my brother and I had, that if we hung curtains from the car’s
windows, they would safeguard us from the dangers of tornadoes. Only a child can think of such
irrationalities.
The ominous and
threatening weather at the start magically improved during the first half of
the course that looped and twisted through the city streets of Olathe. The scenic grandeur of the Mill Creek Trail
during the second half was the highpoint of the day. The solitude and serene sounds of footsteps,
riffles in the creek, monkeys hanging from the trees and birds chirping in the
wooded thickets were calming experiences – except for the tenacious sounds of
diesel locomotives chugging through the area pulling various rail cars,
blasting their horns as if the engineers wanted to purposely disrupt our
enjoyable moments in the “wilderness”.
Even with the course’s
hilly topography and the day’s strong gusty headwinds distressing runners
during their final mile, I fought hard and succeeded in improving my time from
Rhode Island. I was content, did the
best I could and only hoped that I would fare better on the flat lands of
Fargo, one month later.
The radiance of
May was so strong that the rest of the year felt like it was in its
shadow. The Fargo Marathon and its
companion Pub Crawl is a widely celebrated event for the City of Fargo and its
residents. For me, the marathon highlighted
the month.
The flat and
fast Fargo Marathon, with only infitessimal elevation changes, is regarded as a
true BQ course. Beginning and ending at
the Fargodome, the route led runners through two states and two colleges.
Before the
marathon start, unhappy rain gods threatened runners with rain and ugly weather. However, Mother Nature pulled rank over the
rain gods, bestowing upon us cloudy but cool weather with near ideal running
conditions. It wasn’t until shortly
after we finished, Mother Nature allowed the cold and nasty rain to fall,
dampening the spirits of the Pub Crawl participants. However, after the consumption of a few adult
libations, no one really seemed to care.
I was riding on a new high bettering my Garmin time by a whopping ten
minutes.
I hoped that
the afterglow of Fargo carried over into August for Nebraska’s State Fair
Marathon in Grand Island. With some
additional training and the reputation of the course being as flat as a pancake
comparable to my hometown landscape, I could once again regain some confidence
and endurance for a near or sub-four marathon – sadly, something I hadn’t been
able to accomplish since 2012.
The outlook I
had on Nebraska took a sudden nosedive. I
found myself beginning to spiral out of control. With the relentless and punishing summer
heat, inner thigh and heel pain more and more annoying, exasperating and
irritating, I resorted back to my on-again off-again training. My miles decreased and my long runs were in
spirit only and seemed to vanish to parts unknown. I went into Nebraska holding my head high,
with no expectations of a great time, but only to finish. It was clear, this marathon was only a hyped-up
long run, just in another state.
The hot and
humid atmosphere of the Nebraska locale, in addition to the psychologically demoralizing
out-and-back portion of the course, just added to the misery of my endurance
levels; however, the incredible sightseeing, tours of the pony express HQ,
Jesse James’ house, a surveying and engineering (PLSS) point of interest, Lewis
and Clark history, and a tour of the state capitol salvaged a lackluster marathon
performance into a productive expedition.
An impromptu
entry into the Sioux Falls Marathon in South Dakota made our way into our
marathon circuit, the fifth and final marathon of the year. With a similar frame of mind to Nebraska, I
went into Sioux Falls with no expectations, but only with the mindset of just another
glorified long training run.
I felt
confident I would have a great run, but deep down, I knew it would be a repeat
of Grand Island, just that I only hoped for a better finish time.
As for the race
itself, I can assertively say I really enjoyed the first twenty miles. For Fifty Staters wanting to run South
Dakota, to put it mildly, just prepare yourself for the final six miles on top
of a flood control levee. The long and
drawn-out drudgery of the levee trail could have an affinity to grate on ones
nerves and could conceivably confound ones appetite for long distance running. Luckily, that didn’t happen to me as I just
tried to enjoy myself the best I could and the gusty gale-like southwesterly
late morning winds delivered a much hailed tailwind to assist with my
struggling efforts to salvage a tough day.
To me, playing
mind games
to divert attention from my struggle was an essential component.
I found the nearly spectatorless segment of the course a perfect way to
engage my mind with some of the engineering design elements of the flood
control levee – the weir structures, bridges, levee embankment construction and
the various channel flow regimes, to name a few.
It wasn’t the
flattest or the hilliest course around, but the looped course undoubtedly offered
an interesting mix of parks, downtown landmarks, historic neighborhoods and, of
course, Falls Park, one of the iconic pillars of Sioux Falls. The hills presented themselves mostly during
the first half of the run with very few in the second half. I believe the event organizers threw them in
just to make the course interesting, yet challenging enough to test ones
fitness.
Looking back at
my 5:20 performance in Grand Island, it was my initial inclination to consider
that time as some sort of an outlier considering all my marathon data points
and that my time in Sioux Falls would somehow revert back towards the
mean. That was farther from the
truth. My time in Sioux Falls was two
seconds slower than Grand Island. I can
logically hypothesize, with some degree of confidence, that my training and
endurance levels were solely to blame and was not some extreme random event.
The running of
Sioux Falls completed my thirty-fourth state.
With sixteen states remaining, our 2020 completion goal is well within
reach – I can see it, taste it and feel it.
In retrospect, it wasn’t too long ago when I concluded my sixteenth
state (Shiprock, NM), as I thought to myself, “OMG, only thirty-four states
remain.”
South Dakota, a
state that I had first thought would impose a great challenge to complete, unpredictably
turned out to be a very remarkable weekend long run. I can only hope that any remaining so-called
“boring” states will follow suit and deliver thrilling experiences (though if
anyone can give me a road map to excitement in Delaware, for example, I’m all
ears). Maybe Delmarva’s widely touted
Monster Mash or scenic Rehoboth Beach will deliver that needed excitement.
Precisely how
many states I complete in 2018 may still remain uncertain; but, in the
meantime, my next date with the 26.2-mile beast comes in January as I head
off to Louisiana’s Bayou, to compete in the Louisiana Marathon in Baton
Rouge. Topping my Louisiana itinerary
will include some mouth-watering Cajun fare complemented with a hunk of king cake
for a traditional southern confectionary dessert course.
Between now and
then, the key to my well-being will be focus, perseverance and training. I’ve learned over the past few years that I’m
not invincible. Beleaguered with on-and-off
injuries and the lack of discipline and training gave me the intellect to move
forward into the next year with a cautious, but optimistic, approach. I’m not sure what adventure each marathon
will convey, but I know each will have its own twist and ensuing unpredictable
story about conquering the monstrous distance.
Overall, since
I was unable to end 2017 on a high note, I can only hope to begin 2018 on a
high note instead. I’m still assessing
the inherent worth of 2017 and the little voice inside asks, “Do I consider the
year a success?” I do in terms of
marathon quantity and the fact the mileage reduction gave my aged body a chance
to recover. In terms of training, quality
runs and injuries, the year was not as successful as I intended. My 2017 average finish time came in slightly
higher than my 2016 average, but that may be an inaccurate comparison given the
disparity in the data point populations.
As I sit back reflecting
upon 2017, there really wasn’t much to boast about. I conceded the year with many ups and downs
as rapid as a fiddler’s elbow jamming to Charlie Daniels’ The Devil Went Down to Georgia.
Summing up my five marathons, the mean finish time computed to a paltry 4:59:17,
with a standard deviation of 0:20:22.
September and October is a time when the leaves of
broad-leaf trees transition from greens to yellows and oranges, the extent of daylight
hours significantly shortens with each passing day. The fruit and nut trees in the valley begin
their annual preparation into dormancy stages. In the meantime as the troposphere begins to
cool, it’s the most run-derful time of the year. It’s my opportunity to prepare for the months that
lie ahead as a time to hide away from marathoning and focus on my
cardiovascular fitness, endurance, perhaps running a half marathon or two to
keep things interesting, and VO2 max training. Yes, it’s hard, but commitment and mental
toughness are key to reaping the rewards a little heavy breathing brings with
it.
As the days pass, it becomes more obvious that I may
need to add a running group component to my training whose sole purpose is to
earn that envious time, a big step for someone who uses running as a means to
disconnect from the world. My hope is
that it will reinvigorate my drive to improve my running times, and at the very
least, allow me to curtail my dreaded walking stints (excluding aid stations)
and to once again, post competitive times for the upcoming year.
The local running groups tend to meet up in the wee
hours of the morning – a monumental challenge for me to accept. Sure, it’s wonderful to hit the roads in the
cool dark air of the morning and cranking out six to ten miles before I sit
down at my office desk to crank out a day’s work, but that leaves me dragging
in the afternoon hours. The addictive
nature of the endorphin high doesn’t seem to carry over past lunch.
After hitting the roads solo, or with my wife, for the
last seventeen years, I cannot seem to close in towards my marathon PR achieved
during California’s Long Beach Marathon (October 2010), nearly seven and a half
years ago! I certainly cannot expect to
improve my times every year, but as I sit down to write this post, I’m not
remotely close to either a BQ or a PR. Even though I enjoy the physical act of
running, the community is what keeps me connected to the sport. Maybe perhaps it’s time I actually run with
people without bibs.
Although my eagerness and passion are not enough to protect
me from injury, lack of fervor, training, dedication or my own self-willed
drive for improvement, I believe every year that passes is a year of experience
– and a year of surprises, both good and bad. And with each surprise is a new lesson learned.
I just need to stay focused and
committed.
For those who know me, it can be said I typically fit
the stereotype of an engineer. While my
spelling and grammatical skills are, at least I think, up to par, my writing
seems to deviate towards the technical side of things that includes a lot of
extraneous details and, on the face of it, unimportant jargon of my marathon
travels. I throw it out there and I
happily leave it for the reader to decide.
Since starting my blogging, I’ve learned a great deal about
writing. First and foremost, it takes
practice and I believe nothing gets worse with practice. I’ve actually accomplished more than I had
realized and that motivates me even more to continue. While they may not be perfect or award
winning essays, as long as progress is made, that’s all I can hope for. The same goes for running.
For anyone reading these long technical and detailed diatribes
and discourses on my long road to fifty statehood, I can only hope that I humor
or educate you every so often as I try to translate my passion into writing. I hope you chase your exciting goals in 2018 whether
or not you sport a pair of running shoes. Running, and so many other sports, affords us
the opportunity to be together and to improve ourselves whether in training or
during a road race.
With the world around us quickly drawing ugly lines in
the sand or some mentally deranged homicidal psychopath whose mission is to devastate
the innocent lives of everyday people, we need to embrace every friendly
gathering and strive to help and encourage everyone reach their own finish
lines. Whether your pace is a fifteen-minute
mile or six-minute mile, it’s still a mile.
As I run away from 2017, I set my sights on the many
new and unpredictable adventures that lie ahead. I look forward to 2018 with a mix of
emotions, apprehension and motivation.
However I choose to blaze my path, I hope to share it with anyone who
enjoys running – from the novice to the sure-footed veterans. We may not all search for the same thing on
our running journeys, but we sure can enjoy each other’s company along the way.
Here’s to a happy and speedy new year and to a new
year filled with great marathons! Gotta
run!
To recap my 2017 endeavors:
15
April – Newport Rhode Race, Newport, RI (4:51:43)
22
April – Garmin Marathon, Olathe, KS (4:46:28)
20
May – Fargo Marathon, Fargo, ND (4:36:38)
26
August – Nebraska State Fair Marathon, Grand Island, NE (5:20:47)
10
September – Sioux Falls, Marathon, Sioux Falls, SD (5:20:49)
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| 34 down -- 16 remain! |
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It's onward and upward, one step at a time, as my long journey continues. Stay tuned... |
