Sweet Victory

Out-thinking Winter

2012-02-13T05:20:00.000-08:00

Of all the reasons I don't enjoy Winter (and truth be told, there are many), one of the trickiest is trying to plan key workouts around finicky weather. Take last weekend, for instance. Please.

The plan called for me to do the Squirrely Tail Twail Wun, a half marathon trail race on Sunday.

To prepare for this race, I'd foregone my regular Thursday tempo run. While not a big deal, it's also not easy decision. We're about 9 weeks from the Boston Marathon, which means there are approximately 25 key workouts left. A decision to skip one shouldn't be taken lightly, and I didn't.

And then Saturday turned out to be mini snow squall after mini snow squall, and there I was deciding whether or not I was going to do this race on Sunday.

On the plus side was the fact that Sunday's forecast was for 30mph wind gusts and morning temps around 15-20 degrees; in other words crappy for running a workout. Far better to be distracted by a race.

But there were two big minuses. The first was the fact that the race had some technical areas and if they were slick, there was a chance I could hurt myself. Usually, that wouldn't bother me, but this time around, it's Boston I'm training for and who knows when I'll get back there? I couldn't ignore this possibility.

But the bigger minus for me was my fear that the course would be so slippery that the race would turn into a half marathon walk, which would negate any positive workout effects. It's tough to convince myself to run 13 instead of 20 on the weekend... To hike it would've, quite frankly, felt like a waste.

And so after changing my mind about 7 times during the course of Saturday, at 8pm I decided I wasn't racing. And while the decision relieved me, there was still the matter of how to get in a quality workout on a cold and blustery Sunday. (And to be clear: the weather has to be near deadly for me to consider getting on my treadmill.)

I opted to go on the Conewago rail trail, running from Colebrook to Lebanon and back. This course has the advantage of being somewhat shielded from the wind.

I'd settled on the idea of running it easy and then trying to drop in 5-7 7:15 miles. But once I got on the course, I had to change plans for winter YET again. The blustery snow squalls of the previous day had made the course fairly runnable but also unpredictable. Some miles the trail was bare. Other miles had up to 2 inches of snow on it. Most of it was somewhere in between. So I ran fast when I could and slower when I couldn't.

In the end, I finished the 20 miler at a 7:41 pace. This included 2 at 7:18 pace and a ton of them around 7:30. All in all, it was my fastest run of more than 18 miles in 3 years, and the quality type of workout I want as we head toward Boston. So I was pleased, which wasn't where I thought I'd end up. You can see all of my splits here.

It wasn't perfect, though... I pushed enough into the anaerobic zone that my blood sugar was 300 near the end. I would've known this if it hadn't been so cold, but my meter froze. Nevertheless, as the speed creeps up on the long runs, I'll need to watch my blood sugars a bit more.

Even so, I'd rather out-think diabetes than winter any day. For me, the former is far more predictable.

January Review - Pre Boston Marathon

2012-02-01T05:22:00.000-08:00

Thanks to surprisingly good January weather, the month wrapped up really well workout-wise. To sum:

* Missed workouts - 0. I've found that work, weather and health issues usually knock me out at least 1-2 days per month, but January was flawless. I had 4 planned rest days and took 4. One workout had to get moved due to weather, but that was it.

* Total mileage was 204. That's my third highest total of the past 12 months. Perhaps more important, it's a very nice volume for me so far before the Boston Marathon. It bodes well for a good build.

* Re-introduction of speedwork. The best surprise of all was 4 successful tempo runs, culminating with an 8 miler that included 7 miles @ 6:52 pace. I also did 4 hill workouts that will now turn into interval workouts.

* Diabetes-wise, things were pretty good, though not as well as I'd like. According to my numbers, I spent 3% of the time higher than 170 and .6% of the time lower than 60. Both of those figures are a bit higher than I'd like. It seems when I'm really jamming I'm only over 170 about 1.5-2% of the time, and can keep the lows to as little as .2%. But still, it wasn't horrible.

February will bring my annual trip to our UK office, but this one will be a couple of days shorter than other years, which means I shouldn't have trouble hitting all of my long runs prior to and immediately after the trip. With jet lag and work, I keep things casual running-wise on those trips, getting in easy miles when I can and not sweating it if I can't. The shorter trip this time means it shouldn't hurt my fitness much at all.

Historically speaking, I hate January more than any other month, due to the horrible weather, the limited light and inevitable head colds. This year was a pleasant surprise, and I'm happy to be on the back half of winter already.

Surprising 60

2012-01-23T05:42:00.000-08:00

The plan wasn't to run 60 miles last week.

The schedule had me planning for 53 or so, just a notch up from the previous week's 50. But Saturday's scheduled long day got snowed out, which pushed the long day to Sunday. And rather than take a rest day on Saturday, I hopped on the dreadmill for about 6.5, because I knew that I wouldn't be able to get out today (Monday). The result? Exactly 60 miles, and the first I'd ran that far in a week since last September and only my 6th in the previous year.

Everything feels good right now, I think mostly because I'm doing the right things. I'm following up hard days, with very easy days - trying to slow those down to 9:00 miles. It makes a huge difference. I neglected to do that last Wednesday, zipping through a bunch of 8:20 miles and the result was that I got through Thursday's tempo, but it was an effort. Hard - easy, Hard - easy - it makes a difference. Not just in days, but in weeks, which is why last week's 60 mile week will be followed by one of about 40. My bg also behaved like a champ on this week's 20 miler, hanging around 120 for most of the run. I finished at 74 but knew I was falling and would've taken a gel about 2 miles sooner had I planned to be out longer.

Sh*t Diabetics Say

2012-01-18T10:19:00.000-08:00

I love the funny video series making its way around the Net. It started with Shit Girls Say, and has spawned many funny sequels. But none for diabetics, until now!

If you like the camera work, that's my 15 year old daughter at the helm. My son was home sick from school and my daughter felt she needed a "mental health day," too. I said, "Sure... I can use your help with something, anyway!"

2012, and Go!

2012-01-12T05:36:00.000-08:00

Hard to believe it's been a month since my last post, but as usual, that's generally a good sign. When things are going good, that's usually when the blogging takes a back seat.

Diabetes-wise, all is status quo. In fact, I just got back an A1c of 5.9, which I'm pretty sure is my lowest ever, if not, certainly in years. Ironically, though my CGM is certainly partly responsible for that great number, I've been sensor-less for about 3 weeks now as I miscalculated my reorder and then had to wait for new insurance info. to get sorted out. But even so, things have been excellent blood-sugar wise and the good news is that a big shipment of supplies is on its way to me, so very soon I'll be CGMing again.

Running-wise, things are also going well. After an injured November leading to a lackluster December marathon, December ending up being nearly a 200 mile month, injury-free. In addition, I started adding in tempo work and this past week awesome coach Missy had me add in hill work, which serves as the precursor to speed work. All of this is important because in 2011 I taught myself to run much higher miles than ever before, mostly injury-free; 2012 is the year I try to add in regular speed and tempo work without getting hurt. And after a month of tempos, things are going well.

The purpose for all of this is to be ready for the Boston Marathon in April. That said, running Boston is a dream come true, and I'd like to PR there, but the course and weather usually conspire to make that tough, so I'm really only concerned with being as fit as I can be there. If that means a PR, fine - if it doesn't, fine.

Coming off of Boston, there's a better than average chance I'll go for a PR at the Cleveland Marathon a month later with better weather and a friendlier course. But of course, that depends on the next 3 months and how Boston goes.

If you're a diabetic running nerd, you should know that this weekend's Olympic Trials are important, as they include only the second diabetic (and first diabetic man), ever, to run in the Olympic Marathon Trials in the US. Tommy Neal's challenge is somewhat unique, however, as he qualified for the Trials early last year, and only was diagnosed with diabetes last summer, so this will also be his first marathon as a diabetic. There's a great story about Tommy here. Here's hoping he knocks it out of the park!

And finally, Team Type 1 is going through tons of planning for a great year. The pro cyclists are gearing up in Europe while us domestic amateurs are preparing to help SANOFI here in the US. All in all, it's shaping up to be a great year.

What Comes After Humbled

2011-12-11T21:38:00.001-08:00

Last weekend was my third marathon of the year, in addition to one ultra, and I owe readers a race report on it. But first I'm going to spend time discussing several things that happended at the Team Type 1 Training Camp, which happened in Tucson at the same time as the Tucson Marathon.

There were a lot of reasons for the Camp to take place. For the Pro Cycling Team, it's a ten day long series of workouts in the desert and the mountains. In addition, it was a rare opportunity for us amatuer athletes to interact with one of the finest professional cycling squads, certainly in the US, and more every day, in the world.

In addition to seeing some of my best friends on the team, the Camp gives us the ability to meet "in real life" people we may have only met online. Generally speaking, Team Type 1 folks follow each other on Twitter and friend each other on Facebook, but this was the chance to actually meet. Anne Findlay, Laura Eli, Patricia Brownell, Mike Hebe, etc... The list goes on and on of friends who bdcame more than virtual this weekend.

It was also the first time the new runners and triathletes had the chance to meet with us. The running and triathlon team has gotten so much faster with the 2012 additions, which I hope to cover this more in the coming days. But selfishly, I did want to talk about finally meeting, in person, my coach, Missy Foy, as well as Ryan Nichols. Ryan and I have been online friends at least 2 years, and it was through me that Missy became Ryan's coach, so having all 3 of us together was absolutely a blast.

Saturday consisted of mostly a strategy session. Team Type 1 Sanofi is so committed to working with Sanofi for the good of everyone affected by diabetes, and it was great to discuss how we are going to do that in 2012. Specifically, look for the team to focus more energy, more appearances, more events, more races, etc. in certainly key markets. What's particularly exciting is many of these cities, thus far, havent been that exposed to Team Type 1, so everybody involved has the opportunity to truly benefit.

Saturday afternoon consisted of quick photoshoots with a man whom has worked with Lance Armstong. I doubt he was able to make me look as dangerous as Lance, but I am optimistic!

After the photoshoot, those of us running on Sunday went out for a short shakeout run. To participate in these runs really can't really be described, unless perhaps you've run cross-country with a team. The mood is light, the jokes are great, and often diabetic themed.

Saturday night was a keynote presentation by Phil Southerland, one of the founders of the team, and about the biggest superstar in the diabetes business. Before that night, I had heard "Phil stories," and we'd chatted online, but we'd never met in person. It's impossible to come away from a Phil speech without being awed and everyone involved certainly was.

Toward the end of the presentation, Phil announced that for the first time ever, the team was awarding an Amateur Athlete of the Year Award, to be given to someone who most exemplified what we stand for.

As it was described, it occurred to me that I would not have wanted to decide who to give such an award to. Truth be told, the room was full of 100 of the finest spokepeople for diabetic athletes I've ever known. Every day they inspire people. How do i know this? Because they inspire me.

As Phil went through what the athlete had done in 2011, I recognized myself right away. Qualifying for Boston was a huge highlight for me in 2011 as was the NJ Ultra Fest. But he went on to describe that Team Type 1 is about more than athletics and at length, he described my 86 mile "Tour for Advocacy" that I'd in July, when we secured support for House Bill 1338 in 9 of my local 10 local legislator's offices. At this point, I heard some of my teammates say, "it's Marcus." And I was called to the stage, in front of everone, to accept the award.

I'm a fortunate man. I've recieved awards before in my life. But two things hit me as I walking to the stage. The first was that I was being given a standing ovation and I'm certain that's never happened. The second was that I was humbled to oblivion. These people are my heroes.

How do you accept an award you couldn't have possibly won without the daily inspiration of the people you were inevitably chosen over? A day later, I don't have an answer for you.

But I know this: what I love most about Team Type 1 is that the flow of inspiration is so strong that I leave every event I do with them bound and determined to do better. I look at the athletes who out-perform me and resolve myself to train more, to train smarter and to, inevitably, get faster. And I learn about what they're doing with the diabetes community in their hometowns and find myself becoming more committed to doing the same. And though my diabetes is very well controlled, my A1c is not the best on the team. Truth be told, in everything in my life, which includes my Team Type 1 life, I can do better.

There is a scene at the end of Private Ryan where Tom Hanks knows he's dying. He looks at Matt Damon, whose life he basically has spent the entire movie saving, and says, "Earn this." While I don't know that it's possible for me to feel deserving of this award, I know this: I'm going to do everything I can to earn it.

Running Thankful

2011-11-23T06:39:00.001-08:00

A year ago, I was nearly through my first month of almost 200 miles/month of running. November 2010 was the first of many high mileage injury-free months. This year, I'm dealing with some tendonitis in my foot that won't allow me to run on back-to-back days. It's my first injury in over a year and like all injuries, it's annoying. But even so, I come into this holiday (my favorite holiday, actually) thankful for the year of running I've had.

* This year I ran races of distances I never did before: my first 10 miler, my first 16.3 trail mile race and my first 50 miler.

* This year I PR'd at both the 5k and marathon distance.

* This year I enjoyed AG awards in 10 of my 12 races, plus 2 races where I was top 3 overall. This included my first 2 trail race awards and my first ultra award. The only 2 races I didn't win an AG award at were both of my marathons, which gives me a nice goal to continue to chase.

* This year I qualified for the Boston Marathon. I've chased this goal for a handful of years and the 5th time was finally the charm. I should also point out I'm thankful for my coach who helped me make it after I declared after my 3rd marathon that I was giving up on that goal.

* Of course I did all of this inspired by my teammates on Team Type 1, who have been even more amazing than I imagined. Next year's squad includes some names I know will make incredible contributions, too.

The smart thing to do with any injury is to allow yourself the ability to heal completely, but I'm not doing that quite yet. Team Type 1 is gathering for one more event - the Holualoa Tucson Marathon - on December 11. (Speaking of thankful, this will also be my first trip to Arizona!)

Until then, I'm doing a lot of cross training, and running 3-4 days per week and hoping that gives me a decent performance in Tucson. But after that, it looks like my next focus race will be the Boston Marathon, which gives me the opportunity to take a few weeks off and let my foot heal completely. I'm thankful for that, too. My 2011 race calendar was aggressive and I need to stop running fast for a little while, so that's the plan.

And even if Tucson doesn't work out in a great race, I've got nothing to complain about. Running-wise, this year has had way more ups than downs. I'm looking forward to being healthy and fast again, but for now, thankful will have to do and I'm ok with that.

From Team Type 1 SANOFI's Run Across America - Night Shift

2011-11-11T19:19:00.001-08:00

Night Shift by Marcus Grimm

“We saw what you wrote about us,” Team Type 1 SANOFI runner Eric Tozer said to me, in a way that made it clear that he and his night-shift teammates, Jon Obst and Ryan Jones, were not entirely pleased with one of my earlier dispatches.

The fact that Tozer would voice his displeasure at all meant something in and of itself. If you were to make a list of the most easy-going members of the team, you’d be hard pressed to top the youngster from Sacramento.

Tozer’s complaint was in regards to my first story about the team’s new strategy nearly a week ago. I had written then that the plan for the night-time crew was to run slower and to cover fifty miles per night. In my defense, that was the plan. But as we all have come to learn, many things in the Run Across America didn’t go according to plan and one of those was the success of the night crew, which somehow managed to run similar paces as the day crew, despite limited visibility and fewer than half the number of runners.

“I think our shortest night has been about sixty-five miles, and most have been around seventy-five,” said Ryan Jones. I asked the night crew why the plan had been for them to run slower and why they hadn’t.

“Some of the guys don’t like running at night as much,” Tozer speculated. “So early on, I think a lot of our night running was slower. Truth is, I think some guys got weirded out by some dogs early on and other strange sounds. Me, I don’t know… I think it’s kind of cool. I don’t know if I thought that when we started, but I think it now. “

“The first few hours, when the cars are whizzing by are a little tough,” added Jon Obst. “But then it gets real quiet. The cars are very few and it’s just beautiful.”

Though the squads share a common mealtime and are more united than the two shifts earlier in the trip, make no mistake; the night shift thinks of themselves as being a little different from their day-time counterparts.

“We’ve got this thing,” Jones said, with a twinkle in his eye. “Wherever Dave (crew manager Dave Eldridge) tells us to stop, we go further. Some nights it’s ten or twelve miles further. One night it was only one. But we like to have them wake up and be surprised where we are.”

Looking at the night-time crew, haggard, thin and yet brimming with energy as they waited for the day-shift to drop off the van, I couldn’t help but ask Tozer how things would be for him in just a few days, when he was forced to reprogram his sleeping schedule for the third time in two weeks.

“It’s going to be a little strange,” he admitted. “I’m probably going to be a mess. I could see my wife hating me for a few days.”

And if Tozer couldn’t have been more right when we first started talking, it wasn’t lost on me that he was probably entirely wrong now.

From Team Type 1 SANOFI's Run Across America: The Importance of Team

2011-11-11T06:09:00.001-08:00

The Importance of Team by Marcus Grimm

Run across the country for two weeks and you figure, a man could change. Things that maybe seemed impossible before might be entirely possible now.

In conversations I’d had with Matt Patrick, who won a 100k (62.5 mile) race earlier this year, he’d often told me that he thought guys like Jon Obst and Ryan Jones, who compete regularly at 100 miles, were crazy. That there was “no way” he’d do something like that.

And so it seemed like a logical question to ask him how he felt about such races now; now that he alone has traveled nearly 300 miles in two weeks, on slight sleep, through mountains, snow, ice and rain. Truth be told, the writer in me was looking for a story about a man being transformed.

“After a couple days of doing this, I was sore,” reflected Patrick. “But strangely, the soreness went away. Your body adapts and things don’t always get worse. So, physically, I think, ‘Yeah, probably my body could do that.’”

“But then again,” he said, “I really feel like so much of my energy is coming from these guys around me. It’s impossible to not be motivated by every one of them, and I’m not sure I could do one of those races without that sort of inspiration around me.”

“So yeah, if they were with me, I think I could do it.” Patrick scanned the RV, looking at his exhausted teammates, icing injuries and desperately trying to replace thousands of calories of lost nutrition. “But good luck convincing them.”

Somehow one gets the feeling it wouldn’t be that hard to do.

From Team Type 1 SANOFI's Run Across America: Whatever it Takes

2011-11-09T15:48:00.001-08:00

Whatever it Takes by Marcus Grimm

As Team Type 1 SANOFI heads into less than one thousand miles to go in their amazing run across America, the excitement of their new strategy coupled with some solid sleep has the runners moving at a more rapid pace than on any stretch of their journey so far.

Utilizing their new plan of seven men running fast pulls during the day, and three men running slower miles through the night, spectators in Illinois were surely to be disappointed if they weren’t paying attention, as the team crossed the entire state in a mere twenty-four hours.

“We’re in a totally different place now,” said Kevin Powell, “There’s chatter in the van, again, and all kinds of excitement.”

But recent calculations determined the team still was behind their goal of the East Coast by Sunday, so the men have ratcheted up the logistics of the journey. Now, the van drops a single runner off, moves another mile and then does the same and repeats the process until six runners have been dropped off. Just as quickly, it circles back and picks up each runner at the conclusion of their respective miles. If they do it well, and after a full day of practice, they are doing it very well, they can cover six miles in the time it previously took them to do three.

“Logistically, it’s crazy,” said Powell, whose bum knee relegated him to spending most of the day behind the wheel, assigned to the unenviable task of driving the van and managing who got out when and, as important, when they got picked up. “But we’re making up time and that’s what it’s all about now.”

The day-time crew also found themselves energized by their three teammates on the overnight crew, who passed their own fifty mile goal and decided to keep going.

“Unbelievable,” said Powell. “This whole trip has been about just missing our goals, just missing our marks, and these guys blow right through the stop sign and pile on fifteen extra miles. Epic, completely epic.”

The same can certainly be said for the entire team, putting more and more of the country in their rear-view mirror with each passing minute.

From Team Type 1 SANOFI's Run Across America: Happy Birthday, Ingrid

2011-11-05T10:47:00.001-07:00

Happy Birthday, Ingrid written and edited by Tom Grossman & Marcus Grimm

Tom Grossman had felt many things since the start of the Run Across America a week ago; highs and lows, both in spirit and in blood sugar, as well as fatigue and energy. But what he hadn't felt until today was the realization that he was simultaneously exactly where he should be at the same time it seemed he was precisely furthest away from where he wished he was.

Grossman, like all on Team Type 1 SANOFI, understand the importance of what they're attempting here, to revise the public understanding of diabetes, so that they can better encourage those that live with it it. As someone whom has lived with diabetes for nearly three decades, Grossman is particularly qualified to understand the misconceptions diabetics are prone to receiving from those around them.

But there on Highway 56 in Kansas, Grossman felt his mind drifting, as it did often, to his home and family in Midland, Michigan. He thought of his dear wife, Jennifer, his son, Tommy and daughters, Gretl, Liesl and Ingrid. Truth be told, today he thought the most of Ingrid, celebrating her eighth birthday while her father pounded the asphalt on a windy Kansas highway that couldn't care less about his cause. Still, Grossman was steadfast in his purpose.

"Ingrid turns eight today," he reflected. "The same age I was when I got diabetes. Seeing her at the age I was when I was diagnosed drives home the importance of our mission; how much it matters and what we're trying to do."

For Grossman, the choice was made and the sacrifice of time followed, but not without love. In Midland, Michigan, Ingrid Grossman received a bouquet of flowers addressed to the birthday girl, sent from a loving father, still more than a thousand miles away from seeing his children, but getting closer every day.

From Team Type 1 SANOFI's Run Across America: Aretaeus Returns

2011-11-05T10:46:00.000-07:00

Aretaeus Returns by Marcus Grimm

Most people are unfamiliar with Aretaeus and the place he holds in medical history. A disciple of Hippocrates in ancient Greek, he was the first to name “diabetes,” based on the Greek word “to siphon,” emphasizing the symptoms of excessive thirst and frequent urination common when the blood sugar is high.

Aretaeus referred to this, mostly incorrect, “as a melting down of flesh and limbs into urine.” And despite the fact that Team Type 1 SANOFI is made up of a group of remarkably well-controlled diabetics, it’s possible that Aretaeus might feel otherwise had he come upon them, running their way across the windy plains of Kansas.

The group, fit and trim when they started the journey a week ago, are thinner to a man. Their lives are as simple as could be, consisting only of running, eating, sleeping and managing the mathematics of a disease that demands you know how these factors will affect your blood sugar at all times. And make no mistake – simple and easy are unrelated perhaps more often than they are. The runners are balancing all of these factors on little sleep, and without the benefit of the comforts of home.

To succeed, the excesses of their lives have been stripped away. Phone calls home are necessary, but their fatigue necessitates, too, that they are brief. Meals are consumed with passion, but quickly, so that there is more time to sleep. Everything has changed for them. Everything, that is, except the running and the diabetes, the two unrelenting factors in their lives right now, that refuse to let up.

From Team Type 1 SANOFI's Run Across America: Going to the Dogs

2011-11-05T10:44:00.001-07:00

Going to the Dogs by Marcus Grimm

As Team Type 1 SANOFI said goodbye to New Mexico and hello to Oklahoma today, it's fair to say the runners are hoping for slightly different types of homeowners.

Matt Patrick said, "I hate to generalize, but it really seems as if a lot of people in New Mexico have dogs, and many of those dogs are of the loud, scary variety."

The threat of defensive canines was no more prevalent than at night. Said Kevin Powell, "It was so dark, you'd hear them before you saw them; just a frantic barking coming out of the night."

When the runners could spot the dogs in advance, they adapted a sneak tactic, having the vans pull up beside them and drive slow. When the canines caught on to them first and seemed intent on dining upon diabetic runners, the members of Team Type 1 SANOFI would be forced to dig deep for a fast twitch muscle response and dive into the van.

By the third night through New Mexico, however, the decision was made to purchase a spot light so that a non-running crew member could hopefully detect the dogs prior to the runner surprising them. The team hoped that would create enough of a buffer to protect them from a serious altercation.

"There's no question that the dogs are probably the scariest thing we've faced so far," said Casey Boren, "but they're just being protective of their property. They're simply doing their jobs."

The same could be said of the runners, just hours away from reaching the one week mark of their incredible journey.

From Team Type1 SANOFI's Run Across America: Snowbound

2011-11-05T10:43:00.001-07:00

Slippery Situations by Marcus Grimm

Of the many hazards faced by Team Type 1 SANOFI thus far on the Run Across America (and to be clear, there have been many), one of the obstacles they haven’t had to face was the weather. Until today, the runners had enjoyed remarkably clear weather, with sunshine during the days and bright stars at night.

This all came to a close shortly past three AM this morning as Van A traveled from Taos, New Mexico toward their final destination of Eagle Nest.

As the runners crawled higher toward nearly two miles of elevation, a flash blizzard came upon the crew. For the runners, the road became slippery, yet passable. But for the vans, equipped for conditions in California, where they were first rented, the situation turned much worse.

The van struggled to make it up the high ascents, as did many of the vehicles around it. The situation went from bad to worse as a semi-truck in front of them began to slide backwards and sideways, both toward a steep ravine and toward their own van.

The van found itself in a precarious situation, trying to avoid the semi sliding backward while keeping contact with their runner, still negotiating his way toward the summit. Eventually, the semi stopped, mere inches from the van carrying the four others members of Van A’s crew.

Tom Grossman called it, “A harrowing experience for everyone,” saying, “The weather has been a blessing for us until now, aside from the very cold nights. But we’ve come to realize that the weather conditions can deteriorate particularly quickly in these steep elevations. It’s something we’ll have to keep a special watch out for over the next several days.”

To counter the low visibility in bad weather, the team has taken to wearing the same gear during bad weather that they’ve used at night, courtesy of RoadID. Products from RoadID’s Firefly line provide the runners with illumination and reflection to guard against vehicles on the highway. Team Type 1 SANOFI runner Jon Obst says, “We’re concerned with so much right now that the RoadID products offer a great level of protection, so that we can be less concerned about the vehicles on the road.”

Team Type 1 is made up of 100 of some of the finest professional and diabetic athletes in the world. Their mission is to promote wellness and achievement among diabetics worldwide. The Run Across America, a journey of more 3,000 miles, culminates on November 14, World Diabetes Day, in New York City.

From Team Type 1 SANOFI's Run Across America: Setbacks and Recoveries

2011-11-02T12:29:00.001-07:00

Setbacks and Recoveries by Marcus Grimm

Cuba – New Mexico –

For Team Type 1 SANOFI runner Brian Foster, it seemed like the Run Across America was over almost as soon as it began. Foster, of East Amherst, New York was navigating a construction-strewn shoulder of a road on the first night of Run Across America when he rolled his ankle. Pain shot through the joint immediately and Foster had to pull over, forcing teammate Matt Patrick to take over early.

At the time, Foster thought he’d be back to action in time for his next run in the rotation. He hobbled a few more steps, expecting the pain to subside, but it didn’t. And very quickly he realized that with only four miles done of the three hundred he expected to run during the next two weeks, he incredibly might be finished.

Worse, Foster’s injury meant that the runners in Van A were pressed into twenty percent more mileage, and twenty percent fewer recovery breaks. They accepted their fate easily. For Foster, it was much harder.

“For several hours, I sat in the back of the van, sweatshirt pulled over my head. I was upset; upset for myself, upset for the team; just upset.”

A small relief came when Van A met Van B for the relay pass and Foster was attended to by Chris Zenker, who in addition to being a diabetic distance runner happens to be a podiatrist. If there were anyone who could understand the situation, it was Zenker, and the prognosis was good.

“No broken bones and no broken tendons, which kind of surprised me,” he said, “But it meant that when Brian could bear the pain, he could return to action.”

The pain was intense, however, and Foster attacked his recovery with a vengeance while his teammates attacked the asphalt. Icing, elevation, and ibuprofen every few hours. For Tom Grossman, Foster’s setback seemed familiar to him.

“It kind of reminded me of how we all come to deal with diabetes. First, there’s shock and more than a little anger. Then, we find all kinds of support in our loved ones. And finally, we realize that we hold the fate to getting better, so we do.”

And yesterday, after more than two days without running a mile, Foster returned to action for Van A, completing every one of his scheduled pulls. The injury isn’t gone, and Foster attends to the ankle by wrapping it before every leg and icing it whenever possible. But he’s back, and thrilled to be so.

“It feels wonderful,” he said. “Not my ankle. It still feels awful, but it’s getting better, and I’m so glad to be able to contribute the way I wanted to.”

8:15 Miles - From Team Type 1 SANOFI's Run Across America

2011-11-01T13:06:00.001-07:00

8:15 Miles by Marcus Grimm

The Run Across America itinerary is based on Team Type 1 SANOFI running 8:15 miles.

How fast that sounds, of course, is relative. To the men on Team Type 1, an 8:15 mile – or a few of them strung together – is not particularly fast. In fact, most of their marathon times are faster than that per mile.

But don’t kid yourself; 8:15 isn’t exactly slow. Go to any local 5k in your neighborhood, pay the twenty bucks, toe the line and knock the race out in about 25:30. In most cases, that time will put you in the top third of the field, and depending on your age group, you may even come home with a magnet or ribbon for placing in the top 3. Now realize this: the pace you just ran is equal to what the members of Team Type 1 SANOFI are averaging for their entire run across the country.

Not that they’ve been able to knock out even efforts so far. At this point, in Arizona, more than seven thousand feet above sea level, they’ve climbed a lot of hills. In Van A, Matt Patrick jokes that Tom Grossman has been lucky enough to have taken most of his pulls on the uphills while Patrick has benefitted from more than his share of the descents, which he’s taken at more or less his own 5k pace. For reference, that’s about 5:30 per mile, while Grossman has chipped away at the grotesque uphills at a much slower pace. Still, when you average it altogether, Van A seems to be holding up their end of the 8:15 bargain.

Speed is one of the advantage claims of Newton, the upstart running shoe company out of Colorado that sponsors Team Type 1 SANOFI. Many of the runners on Team Type 1 SANOFI believe there’s more than marketing behind this claim.

“The shoes really make you feel fast,” says Jon Obst. Obst has been pounding out many of his miles in the Distancia, one of Newton lighter models, primarily designed for speedwork or shorter races. Then again, for Obst, used to one hundred mile races, the Run Across America is somewhat like speedwork.

Meanwhile Matt Patrick has been chewing up his miles, downhill and otherwise, in the Newton Gravitas and is very impressed with their performance. The shoes encourage a mid-foot strike that Patrick loves. Heel striking, he knows, can be the equivalent of tapping the brakes and with millions of footfalls from California to New York, nobody has any interest in hitting the brakes on this trip.

The secret of the Newton shoes are the lugs, a raised platform in the forefoot of the shoe, that helps to roll the foot forward, creating a fulcrum-like effect that propels the runners forward. Eric Tozer is taking pictures of the lugs as the journey progresses.

“These shoes are incredibly durable,” he says, “But I’m eager to see how they change by the time we get to New York.”

Curiously, we could all probably say the same about the runners, who are merely one-quarter into their epic journey at this point.

Magnification - From Team Type 1 SANOFI's Run Across America

2011-10-31T13:12:00.000-07:00

Magnification by Marcus Grimm

Caption: Brian Foster takes his turn in the Recovery Pump
As Team Type 1 SANOFI nears Flagstaff, Arizona, Van B’s Chris Zenker observes that everything the runners do is intensely magnified.

“Every decision we make reaps a result,” he says. “A great choice in anything leads to great running and recovery, but the opposite has an equally negative effect.”

Like their teammates, the runners first had to deal with ratcheting down their insulin requirements. Failure to do so results in low blood sugars. CGM alarms and the intuition of your teammates prevent the athletes from being in danger, but a runner with a low blood sugar is also a slower runner, and despite this being the most ultra of runs, speed is somewhat of the essence.

And as the miles pile up, how the runners prevent injuries is equally important to Zenker’s magnification theory. Indeed, if you don’t do everything you can to keep healthy, you, your teammates and the entire journey are put at risk.

Sleep helps and as the team enters their third day on the road, the routine is now allowing them to sleep when they must and their bodies soak up the recovery like water into a sponge.

“It’s amazing how exhausted you are and then five or six hours later, we’re ready to go,” says Eric Tozer, the youngest of the runners. Ironically, Tozer’s biggest complaints thus far are chapped lips and a sore wrist.

But most of the runners’ complaints are coming from their lower extremities, and so the Recovery Pump has become a favorite of nearly every runner. Despite their comical appearance (picture inflatable balloon legs that cover your own), the compression effect that comes from the Recovery Pump improves the circulation for the runners, aiding the recovery they will so desperately need.

Ultra specialist Jon Obst agrees, “The Recovery Pump has been awesome. My Newtons are my best friends when I’m on the road and the Recovery Pump is my best friend when the shift ends.”

Van B is also working together to ensure each runners’ healthy. Realizing that the first leg of their shift is always the toughest, the squad has shortened that pull to be only a few miles, to ensure the runners don’t strain their groggy muscles. In addition, they’re responding to how each of them reacts on the terrain.

“Last night, Chris had some shin pain on the downhills,” said Jon Obst, “So I relieved him. We’re finding what everyone can do to be successful out here and making sure we take advantages of each of our individual strengths.”

Zenker agrees.

“I’m learning more and more every day – both about diabetes and about running really far. The trick is to see what you learn and apply it right away. Mistakes get punished out here, but the right moves get rewarded immediately, too.”

Adjustments - from Team Type 1 SANOFI's Run Across America

2011-10-31T05:11:00.000-07:00

Adjustments by Marcus Grimm

October 29, 2011

After a night of running through the Mojave Desert, Team Type 1 SANOFI now finds itself in Arizona, the third state in their RUN ACROSS AMERICA. Gone is the excitement from the pier in Oceanside, CA and the pandemonium of the first day and well-wishes of friends and family. What remains now is the realization that the desert is very quiet and that the team has so very far to go.

In Van A, the runners are learning what twenty miles a day of work means to their diabetes.

“I’ve lowered my basal rates by about 30%,” says Tom Grossman, referring to the amount of long-acting insulin that regularly enters his body via his insulin pump. Matt Patrick counters that he’s down 20%, while Ironman Casey Boren hasn’t adjusted his rates a bit. It’s one of the many ironies of diabetes; it’s such a personal disease that even if you and another man are spending all of your time together doing the same thing, you won’t slay this dragon the same way.

To a man, though, their bodies are now far more sensitive to exercise. Each of their shifts average around thirty to forty minutes of running, a short enough span that seasoned athletes wouldn’t expect their blood sugar to change much. And yet, during a spell through the desert last night, Kevin Powell watched his blood sugar plummet one hundred points during a single shift. At times like these, the runners are immensely grateful for healthy fast-acting carbohydrates like PowerBar Energy Blasts. And of course, for each other.

“You’re running in the middle of the desert in the middle of the night,” says Matt Patrick, “and yet you’re surrounded by a bunch of guys who know how to keep you safe and keep you moving.”

For now, keeping moving is what it’s all about.

Lost, from Team Type 1 SANOFI RUN ACROSS AMERICA

2011-10-29T12:12:00.000-07:00

Lost by Marcus Grimm

After the seven-mile hill into Beaumont, CA, a weary Van A gratefully passed the baton to Van B, whose runners include team manager Tom Kingery and Kona Ironman finisher Ben Semeyn. Unlike Van A, whose participants had been forced to run on little or no sleep, Van B’s day started with a siesta in the RV’s.

Despite the excitement of the day, Kingery said sleep came quickly for him and his teammates. Figuring they got about four good hours of rest, the day seemed to be off to a great start for the group. But when Semeyn missed a turn onto a tiny dirt road early into his run, the runners in Van B instead found themselves looking for the Ironman in the California desert.

Semeyn wasn’t concerned for his diabetes. A wise diabetic plans for such contingencies and he had plenty of carbohydrates to maintain his blood sugars. But still, time was wasting. Semeyn had persuaded a kind stranger to use their cellphone just as Van B tracked him down forty-five minutes later. Semeyn said he wasn’t scared, but still, “I was frustrated about the time. We’ve got a long way to go and I didn’t want to be costing us minutes so early into it.”

The miscue wouldn’t be the only thing to slow the runners down, though, as desert headwinds, mountainous climbs and dirt roads all continued to challenge the goals of Team Type 1 SANOFI. Still Semeyn isn’t deterred.

“We’ve always been a group of guys who are in tune with each other’s blood sugars,” he said, “but it’s amazing to me that we’re already doing the same thing with each other’s runs. We’re very quick to understand who can run further or shorter, faster or slower. ”

Kingery agreed, adding that despite the loss of time and what he called a “beautiful, desolate” landscape, “Spirits are high and we’re thrilled to be out here doing this together.”

From Team Type 1 SANOFI Run Across America

2011-10-29T12:10:00.001-07:00

The first leg – by Marcus Grimm

It’s hard to imagine Team Type 1 SANOFI finding a more beautiful town to run through than Oceanside, California, but with three thousands miles in front of them, there’s no need to award that distinction just yet.

Still, there’s no arguing that the small city, just up the coast from San Diego, is the kind of place you’d be fortunate to call home, with its ample coastline and year-round weather to die for.

It’s also the childhood home of Barbara Mandrell, which doesn’t mean much for today and the Oceanside Pier, which does.

The pier is the longest in the Western Coast of the US, stretching nearly two thousand feet into the Pacific Ocean. The pier is also where Team Type 1 SANOFI started the Run Across America last night.

In the past twenty-four hours, the athletes have flown in from all around the country. Their support crew has worked tirelessly to prepare the two vans and RV. Twenty-four hours, of course, does nothing to get you used to the West Coast time zone, but then again, for these adventurers, time zones will mean nothing for the next two weeks. The runners will instead be creating their own timezone: RAA Time, which basically looks like this:

Run three to six miles.

Sit in the van while the other 4 guys in your van take turns doing the same.

Run three to six miles again.

Watch your buddies again.

Repeat a third time. Maybe a fourth.

Chill for 8 hours or so while the other van does what you just did.

Though the runners will complete most legs alone, the historical significance of the event dictated that they share in its beginning, so they all walked together to the end of the pier, while curious strangers looked on.

“Have you guys ran across the county?” one asked, a question that might have hurt lesser men.

“Nope,” came the chipper reply from Casey Boren. “We’re starting now!”

Boren’s excitement was shared by everyone, including Tom Grossman, who voiced the feelings of all the runners on the pier.

“I’m tired of telling people we will be doing it,” said Grossman. “I want to go to where we’ve done it.”

As the runners finished their ceremonial run in from the sea together, the task of taking on the first solo leg fell to Boren, who had to deal with the fact that everyone was still settling into what as going on.

“It was a little crazy,” he said. “Emotional and exciting, but also you’re running through a city and the vans are trying to make all the right turns. It was a little nuts! It was easier for me to just have to worry about running.”

In time, the excitement of the beginning gave way to the monotony of the road and by the time 5AM rolled around and Van A passed through Beaumont, CA, the runners were more than ready to pass the baton to Van B.

“We’re excited but also fairly tired at this point,” said Matt Patrick of Larchmont, NY. “Some of us just flew in yesterday and there were tons of logistical issues to iron out prior to the actual Run Across America. And then on top of that, we had our first shift of running all night.”

The combination of logistics and running mean most of Van A has been without sleep for nearly twenty-four hours, and all of them have completed four shifts of running through the night from Oceanside, CA. That’s a distance of more than seventy miles and as important for the athletes, an elevation change of more than half a mile.

“We’re just finishing up a hill that seemed seven miles long,” said Patrick. “At least it’s dark, so we didn’t know that going into it.”

Their diabetes, thus far, has not been an issue for the team. Blood sugar tests, carbohydrates from sponsors like PowerBar, insulin and five athletes that know how to balance these have kept the squad healthy and on pace thus far. The answers of how to add sleep deprivation and twenty miles of daily running to the mix lay ahead. But at the very least, the seven-mile hill into Beaumont is now behind.

We Interrupt This Blog...

2011-10-25T10:17:00.000-07:00

When I joined Team Type 1 last year, I regrettably told them the only commitment I wouldn't be able to agree to was to participate in the Run Across America, a relay style journey with a squad of some of the finest diabetic endurance athletes in the nation crossing 3,000 miles.

It was an amazing idea. I thought so then and I think so now. It broke my heart to say no, but with work and family commitments, it just didn't fit. To be clear, I never asked my employer or my wife because I think both of them could've been persuaded; I just didn't think it was fair of me to put them in that position.

As it stands, it was the right call for me. I typically have 2-3 speaking engagements for work per year. Incredibly, I have 4 in the next 3 weeks including our most important tradeshow of the year. None of these opportunities would've been able to happen if I was running across the country, so from a professional standpoint, it was the right thing to do.

In talking to Team Type 1 manager and runner, Tom Kingery, I discovered that one of his many responsibilities during the run was to be chronicling the journey for the TT1 website and other outlets. Not surprisingly, he was less than thrilled about having to do this while running 18-20 miles per day. And then it hit me: I could do this for him.

And so I am. Beginning this Friday, I'll be reaching out to the runners via cell phone as they make their way across the country. My goal will be to convey the journey to the readers - the achievement and camaraderie, certainly, but also the pain that comes from running so far, and the challenges that result from doing it with diabetes. I hope the runners' experiences and emotions translate into content that inspires and entertains the readers as much as their adventures have already inspired and entertained me.

And I hope, not just a little selfishly, to feel a small piece of what they do, as they accomplish the trip of a lifetime.

My introductory story about their journey, A Recipe for Success, can be found here. I'm still not sure where the stories will be posted, but when I know I will always link to them from this blog or from my Twitter account.

Fidelis 5k Race Report - Not as Mean as I Thought

2011-10-17T06:10:00.000-07:00

I tend to think of myself as a grumpy competitor. Simply put, if you're in front of me during the race, I want to put you behind me. But maybe that's not always the case.

After last week's Chicago Marathon, I took a solid 5 days off from running. Because I've been on an amazing streak of no injuries, I hadn't had a break that long in over a year. But with 2 marathons in the next 2 months, it seemed like the smart thing to do.

But the problem with being a diabetic athlete is after a few days of not working out, your blood sugars start to creep higher. By the 4th day, you're doing a lot of correction boluses and by the 5th day, you either need to correct constantly or - if you're a pumper like me - be prepared to redo all of your basal rates.

Or... jump back into running full stream with a 5k race on the 6th day.

To be clear, you will never find any coach that recommends running a marathon, taking five days off and running a race right away. It's dangerous stuff, to be sure. While your legs might feel fresh, they're also confused, stiff and all around wondering why you must abuse them so much.

To soften the blow, I did a nice long 2.5 mile warm-up, and noticed immediately that I had some serious hamstring stiffness. Again, a smarter man might've opted not to race, but I'd paid my $25 bucks and already had the t-shirt. Well, I told myself, I'll just slow down if it feels bad during the race.

During the warm-up, I ran the last mile of the course and knew that it wouldn't be a fast day anyway, as a stiff headwind would be blowing in our face for the entire last mile, aside from the very last 100 meters of the course. Judging by the wind and my stiffness, I figured a sub 20 minute day, at best, would be the most I could hope for. I also hoped to have someone to share the wind with on that last mile.

The race started with a fast downhill mile and I settled in behind a small pack of high school cross country runners around 8th or 9th place. I made a move on the boys going up a small hill and found myself temporarily in 4th place until an older man came by me breathing hard. I've ran enough 5k's to know that if an older guy is breathing hard when he goes by you, he's probably got a lot of race experience in him and knows that you can run a 5k without blowing up. I tried to go with him, but his pace was just a bit swifter than mine.

As the race turned into the last windy mile, I realized that I was probably in serious trouble. The older guy was working the wind with a young kid, and I was a good 20 seconds back. Meanwhile, looking over my shoulder there wasn't anyone close to me. I was in no man's land, not close enough to draft off the pair in front of me, but looking at my watch as the wind blew harder, not looking assured to break 20 minutes at all.

And then, just as I'd resigned myself to a breezy boring finish, the kid surrendered to the wind and started walking. Suddenly, 4th place sounded a lot better than 5th and I picked up my pace, hoping I'd catch the kid before he started running again. I went by him and heard him struggling to catch his breath. And that's when I surprised myself.

I can't promise you I would've done what happened next if the walker were anywhere near my age group. I can't even promise you I would've done it with someone this young in another race. But for some reason, I yelled, "Let's go! Tuck in behind me!"

The kid wheezed, "Thanks!" and he lumbered behind, safely in my draft.

Just like that, my race had become fun again. Within 200 yards, I knew the kid had stayed close, as I felt his shoe clip mine. I also knew that with a marathon a week prior and a balky hamstring, if the kid was with me when we turned the last corner, there was a better than average chance he'd outkick me. If I was going to beat him, now was the time, so I pushed the pace harder and harder while the kid stayed out of the wind. Forgetting the time, now, I did everything I could to drive the speed against the wind. If the kid beat me, I thought, fine - but he's going to have to earn it.

We made the sharp left turn out of the breeze and I heard the crowd cheering. I tried to turn on one last gear but it wasn't there. The kid came by me on the left and I was heard myself shouting, "Go kid! Go!" And he did. We both got recorded in 19:58, but he was clearly a step ahead of me.

I don't know what his story was, but his joy at his time was immense. I heard his family yelling, "You're back, Ian! You're back!" Back from what, who knows. I told the kid, "Nice finish!" and walked through the chute with a smile on my face.

I walked up to the older guy who bested me and shook his hand. He mentioned the kid and complained loudly how the boy had no pride and had drafted off of him for that entire windy mile. He also told me I shouldn't feel bad that he'd beaten me because he'd been a 2:19 marathoner "back in the day."

"Nah," I assured him, "I've been beaten by guys a lot older than you." I limped away, hoping my hamstring would forgive me in short order.

Time: 19:58
Place: 5th out of 170
First in Age Group, 2nd Master

Race Report - Chicago Marathon

2011-10-11T14:31:00.000-07:00

Yesterday, I posted about my awesome teammates at Team Type 1 and the great time we all had together in Chicago. But at the end of the day, we were all there to do some "road work" in Chicago, specifically 26.2 miles of it.

As a precursor: I was coming off a 3:17:30 marathon in May. My training all summer and into the early fall had gone well, and I was hopeful that a 3:15 was well within my range and toyed with the idea of hooking up with the 3:10 pace group.

As last week progressed, however, each day seemed to bring a higher predicted temperature. And while the conditions couldn't be called horrible, the temperature at the start was 64 - about 14 degrees higher than ideal.

The night before the race, Brian Foster (another TT1 athlete) and I decided that given the temps, we'd aim for a 3:15. Both of us, I think, were too nervous about the weather to go for the 3:10.

The 48 hours prior to the race were absolutely ideal for me - plenty of rest, plenty of food, plenty of hydration. When my blood sugar was 110 upon waking up, I still felt confident that I was off to a great day. And when Brian and I found a line of unoccupied porta-potties hiding in the predawn darkness, well I thought the running gods had truly smiled down upon us.

We made our way to corral B and shuffled close to front of it. Corral B was set up for runners in the 3:10-3:35 range. I ate my Clif Bar (with no insulin) 30 minutes prior to the race, set my basal rates for 50% for the duration of the race and was 153 and trending higher when the gun went off. Perfect!

Considering I was starting with more than 37,000 other runners, the start was calm and Brian and I were across the line and running within one and a half minutes, heading north through Chicago. Within one mile, however, we passed through a tunnel, which I absolutely hated. Though the outside air wasn't warm, yet, the tunnel was hot and stuffy. For the first time, I wondered if the heat would be an issue.

After 2 very calm miles around 7:35 pace, Brian and I dropped down a few 7:10-7:15 miles and were happy to be on our way. Except, we really weren't, because I began to notice that each time we'd get near a mile marker, we'd say, "We're going to be fast," but would end up spot on. In other words, it didn't feel as easy as it should've.

I had started the race with a 24 ounce water bottle, which I drank from for the first 7 miles. Per my routine, I took a sip of HammerGel every 3.5 miles and had Endurolytes and Anti-Fatigue Caps every 7. Despite all this, however, within 10 miles I realized this wasn't going to be my day. I willed myself to stay with Brian until the mid-way point, when I told him my legs were heavy and he should just go, which he did.

The 14th mile was a slow one for me, as I took extra time at the water stop and finished it around 7:45. That slow mile put a bit of a spring in my step, and I did the next few around 7:30, barely off 3:15 pace. I kind of kept a casual eye on Brian, about 50 meters up and was pleased he wasn't adding ground on me.

The next thing I knew, however, was Brian was right reside me, and not because of anything I'd done. Rather, he'd miscalculated his electrolytes and had slammed into the wall at the 18 mile mark (I learned this afterward, of course). I told him to stick with me, but he was as powerless as I'd been 5 miles ago. I shuffled on alone.

When I passed Brian at the 18 mile mark, I was also finishing off my last goodish mile, and started my own slide shortly thereafter. A few 7:45s gave way to a few 8:00 miles and before I knew it, I was hanging on for dear life. I prayed for a 3:20 finish but when the 3:20 pace group passed me with 3 miles left, I prayed to the god of the 3:30 pace group to not catch me. And though my pace continued to falter, I finally finished to a roaring overly appreciative crowd at 3:23:45. My blood sugar was 120.

At first glance, I was pretty upset. While not my worst marathon by a long shot (this was pretty much a median effort, all things considered), I really felt as if I was ready for a 3:15 run. That said, one thing I know about myself is that - more than anything - I am a top 10% runner. It takes an amazing race for me to do better than that, and it takes a crappy race for me to do worse. And when you look at the results of the 2011 Chicago Marathon, I came in 337 out of 3320 runners in my age group: the 10.2% percentile.

So when I look at all of that, I really feel the weather was a big factor in my lackluster time, and I really feel on a good day there's definitely a 3:15, or faster, ready to come out. That said, with fall here, I'm going to concentrate more on speed work and tempo runs to complement the parking lot sized endurance I have. That 3:15s in there, but it probably won't come out without a little pain. Then again, that's pretty much the point.

Chicago Marathon - The Post Before the Post

2011-10-10T09:23:00.000-07:00

While I do have a race report coming (3:23 marathon in blah conditions), I first want to write about my Team Type 1 teammates.

While the March event was a better race experience for many of us, the nature of this weekend allowed for infinitely more team bonding. Most of us got in Friday, which allowed ample time for the expo, pre-race chilling out and pretty much just being a bunch of marathoners who happen to have diabetes.

The cast of characters for this crew was slightly different than the March one; some guys who were at the UltraFest weren't here and vice versa, but those I hadn't met before were just as awesome as the ones I had. So, because I have this thing for trying to learn whenever ever possible, here's what I learned from the Team Type 1 participants at the Chicago Marathon:

1) Ben Semeyn - It's about more than the workouts. The day before the marathon, Ben put on a "display" with an assorted list of torture tools I've seen in the back of running magazines. The "stick" I'd seen before, but never used, but Ben also had rollers, balls - basically anything you can rub on a runner's muscles to induce pain. I compared this to my post work-out routine of turning on the air conditioning and realized I could do much better.

2) Eric Tozer - Large gains are attainable. In March, Eric did his first marathon with Team Type 1, finishing around 4 and a half hours. Yesterday? Nearly 1 hour faster.

3) Cale Gondringer - Large gains are attainable, even when sleep isn't. Cale's improvement from March was closer to 40 minutes, but he did it while sharing a hotel room with a two month old baby.

4) Jerry Willis - Great diabetes control is always possible. Jerry is unbelievably resourceful in finding affordable ways to get blood sugar strips, insulin and Omnipods at great prices. Not only that, but he can find creative ways to make money. Did you know Omnipods use the same expensive batteries as PowerTaps, but when the Omnipod dies after 3 days, the batteries are 95% full? I didn't. But Jerry breaks the old Pods open and sells the batteries to his cycling buddies for $2 a battery. I also learned a lot about the alcohol laws in Oklahoma. Yikes.

5) Tom Grossman - The weather doesn't have to be an excuse. It was for thousands of us, yesterday, but not for Tom, who nailed his goal time. As 1 of only 2 guys on yesterday's squad that has had diabetes longer than me, Tom was an easy guy for me to relate to as we joked about old meters.

6) Matt Patrick - Though Matt taught me dozens of small running things this weekend, what I really learned from him was what my wife puts up with. On the first night, Matt's Dexcom went off in the middle of the night, and I found myself sounding just like my wife: "Matt, check your blood sugar!" And then 10 minutes later, "Matt, you're still beeping." Married to a diabetic, I realized, must be a pain!

7) Nathan Bartels - I always enjoy my conversations with Nathan because he's the epitome of West Coast laid back, but what I learned from him this time around was to always be on the lookout for a bargain, even when you are in pain. We were limping around after the marathon and Nathan made a gimpy bee-line to a RedBull car pulled over on the corner. I followed him and we scored free samples, which helped us hobble to the train.

8) Jon Obst - Set bigger goals. You've probably heard of ultra-runners who do "birthday runs;" celebrating by running 1 mile for each year on their birthday. Jon does this, but with an interesting twist: he runs 1 hour for each year of his life. He's done this for about 4 years now and will turn 28 in January.

9) Brian Foster - Get creative with basal rates. Brian and I are two of the pumpers on the team, and he has a somewhat confusing but very innovative way to handle his basal rates leading up to the marathon. While my plan also results in great blood sugars (I finished at 120 yesterday), Brian's would allow me to not consume a Cliff Bar 30 minutes prior to my run, which theoretically pulls blood away from my muscles. Though all of the guys on our team do their own weird things, obviously the stuff the pumpers do is more relevant to me. This was also the first time I met Brian, and we ran the first half of the race together. I knew going into the marathon that he and I were fairly well matched for speed, but I had no idea how well we'd gel running together less than a day after we met. But in the end, results aside, we had a blast, and I can't wait to run side by side with him again.

10) Tom and Colleen Kingery - You don't have to have kids to make marvelous parents. As usual, Tom banged out a great marathon while Colleen ran the first half as a planned training run, but they also did so much more. From the airlines to the hotels and dinner plans, they did everything possible to provide a great weekend for all of us. And keep in mind, we ARE 11 diabetic marathoners. A snapshot of the long walk back to the train after the race: 10 hobbling runners, 1 vomiting, 1 looking like it was a distinct possibility, 1 stopping for ice cream because he got low, and another one who needed to get on the road home to his family. And yet the Kingery's took it all in stride, leading us home like 10 wounded diabetic ducklings.

As always, I can't say enough about the opportunity I've been given to compete on Team Type 1. It's a special blessing that leaves you literally grateful to be diabetic.

Chicago Marathon 2011 - the Goals Post

2011-10-03T14:35:00.000-07:00

So this Sunday I'll be running in the Chicago Marathon - my 6th marathon and 9th race of marathon distance or longer.

My PR for the marathon distance is 3:17:30, set last May. Goal-wise, I'm tempted to go for a 3:10 (7:15 miles), but would happily settle for a 3:15 (7:27 miles). Realistically, I plan to let things shake out for a few miles and then settle into 7:15-7:20 pace and see what happens.

Here are five reasons why I'll have a great race:

1.) Best long run build ever. I've done 7 twenty milers and 3 other 16-18 milers in this build. That's way more than I've done before.
2.) The Chicago Marathon course is the flattest, fastest course I've ever run. My PR came on a flat course, but it was a rail-trail course. Asphalt is faster than trail.
3.) 2011 has been an awesome year. While this past 4 month build has been good, the one in the Spring was also great.
4.) Team Type 1. My wife will tell you that the reason why the NJ Ultra Fest 50 Miler went so well for me is that I was surrounded by my teammates, and nearly a dozen of them will be with me in Chicago. In my own corral will also be 9 time Boston qualifier Brian Foster, and we'll both be going for a 3:10 - 3:15.
5.) Dynamite peak workout. The workout 3 weeks prior to the marathon is kind of the pinnacle workout; very much a dry run of the possibilities. I was in Florida 3 weeks prior to my May PR, but 4 weeks prior did a 22 mile run, with 10 miles @ 7:40 pace. This time around, 3 weeks prior, I did a 22 mile run, with 10 miles @ 7:26 pace. The overall pace for that workout was 17 seconds faster per mile, too, all of which goes to mean that in theory, I could be 7.5 minutes faster than I was in May.

Certainly, anything can happen in a marathon (as my own race disasters have shown me), but probably the biggest thing to contend with is that this is my first large marathon. I have zero experience with big crowds (my largest marathon had 1200 finishers.... in Chicago, I expect to FINISH around 4000, out of 35,000!), and zero experience with being on the start line trying to stay warm.

The weather forecast could also be tricky, though right now there seems to be a better chance it'll be a little too warm than too cold. Either way, there's nothing I can do about it.

When it comes to being a race predictor I tend to be a little overly optimistic, but I'm hoping the crowds of the Windy City carry me through. I won't be crushed if I don't hit it, but I'm putting my prediction time down at 3:12:00.