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)