To Excel In Life...Run!

18 Week 2018 Marathon Training Log - Brian Siddons - CELEBRATE BOSTON/ RACE FARGO

noreply@blogger.com (Brian James Siddons) — Wed, 31 Oct 2018 02:20:00 +0000

After ten years of beating myself up working toward a Boston Marathon Qualifier that would get me into the most famous marathon in the world, I was finally able to run the 122nd Annual Boston Marathon in April of 2018.

While Boston was a great accomplishment, I was hungry to reach for more of my potential. I marked the 2018 Fargo Marathon as my day to go after a faster time then the one I had hit back in 2012 for my first BQ, and subsequent missing of the final cut.

I felt a little crazy to have Fargo scheduled just five weeks after Boston, and yet I was mentally preparing for the post Boston recovery and final build-up to Fargo as if it was something I had planned. I had not.

Working with my older brother Al, as well as my running buddies Stan and Dave, I knew a tweak of my training program was in order. I was, according to the charts from McMillan Running ( McMillan Running) and Jack Daniels training ( Run Smart Project Calculator), fast enough for my goal of 3:36.30. What I was lacking was the endurance for the final 8 miles.

I added more miles to my effort and pace run days, and cut back on my distance runs. For all of these days I infused more quality. This was the key, for me, to running my fastest marathon since 1987!

At age 60 I ran 3:35.41 at Fargo, nearly three minutes faster than my first BQ in 2012, and nearly 9 minutes faster than my BQ in 2016 for Boston 2018.

I now have committed to a goal of 3:29.59 for Boston 2019. It's a stretch, but at this point that's exactly what I want. More goals, less attainments!

The link below is my 2018 training log for Fargo, which includes the Boston Marathon as part of the training. I have highlighted hard days in red, and key days in green. Feel free to download and customize to your needs. For me, this training session had fewer miles, more rest and more quality than my previous attempts.

I hope something in this program helps you attain your goals! I would be glad to discuss any of the aspects of the training. Good luck!

18 Week Marathon Training Program Brian Siddons Boston/Fargo

BrianJSiddons@gmail.com

Turning the running dream into workout reality.

noreply@blogger.com (Brian James Siddons) — Wed, 18 Jul 2018 13:47:00 +0000

I call them magic legs.

Deep in REM sleep, cozy and comfortable in the queen-sized bed that has given me years of dream-filled slumber, I am running with such ease I would swear I am flying!

Runners, like writers, have good days and not so good days. We have runs that are called grinders because it takes all we’ve got to grind out a few average training miles.

Writers know this same feeling. Once beyond the dreaded ‘block’, or as runners say, once out the door, you can be ready to write page upon page and yet the pen, full of ink, dares you to make a mark on the page. The grip feels awkward, your chair off kilter, the lighting too dim. And yet, after the cursory perp, the writing, as rough and chunky as it may be, is begun! You finish, in a time longer than expected, and are quite glad to turn the tablet to a fresh page for tomorrows effort.

On the morrow, the sun rises within minutes of the previous days peak above the horizon. My routine for a morning run remains the same and I am out the door headed on a familiar route like so many days before.

I tear down my street already feeling good. I won’t look at my GPS watch for fear of finding I’ve started too quickly and will soon burn out, regretting my decision to let my mood dictate what should be a monitored effort.

The tar of the bike path feels softer today as my legs respond to the pace with an ease that tells me I’m in for a treat. Breathing is neither labored nor easy. Somewhere between just rapid enough and not so insane that I sound like I’m gasping to survive.

By mile two I’m committed to the effort. I call it running with fatigue. I make a deal with my body like I’m talking with a coach.

Me: “I’ll keep this pace, but I’ll need to cut the mileage from eight to six miles.”

Coach: “No way, you need this workout to improve your endurance. Seven miles minimum!”

Me: “I know, and I’ve got to take advantage of how I feel. My body is flowing like I’m being pushed by the wind. My breathing is less labored than during my track workouts and my legs feel really fresh after a rest day.”

Coach: “Then it’s settled. Seven miles as fast as you can maintain!”

I agree to the plan. I’ll run with the fatigue I know will make me stronger. “I’ll do it”, I say. I have to, for today the magic legs are back!

Mile four clicks off and I begin to unleash my body for the last three miles. Mile five is a blur of effort, pain and joy as I prep for the last mile before the last mile.

I return the same way I went out on this out-and-back course. Arms working, body mechanics constantly in check for alignment. The sound of my feet pushing off the bits of dust and sand on the asphalt path remind me of running on the track, the place where speed is honed as we push ourselves as hard as we can. I feel like I’m flying the last mile, daring myself to go as fast as I can and still remain able to gas it all the way back to the finish line I call my driveway.

These benchmark runs are few and far between, and yet come at just the right intervals. After weeks of hard work a payday arrives and I cash the check without hesitation. Like a great session of writing, it feeds me for weeks, sometimes longer, between the daily grind of everyday results.

Trusting in the process enables me to keep the hope of flying alive, knowing the magic legs, and pen, are a blessing of cumulative efforts. Chipping away each day, resting when needed to freshen up the physical and mental self and then jumping back in with abandonment are what prepares us for that moment when the magic strikes!

Brian Siddons July 2018

Sometimes we have to hit the RESET button on our running.

noreply@blogger.com (Brian James Siddons) — Mon, 09 Jul 2018 16:30:00 +0000

Running barefoot on grass was a mainstay back in the '60's and early '70's. My brother, Al, has told me stories about workouts when their coach had them run barefoot on grass fields. Not that their shoes were much to speak of, usually thin layers of crepe for an outsole ( no midsole to speak of ) and a thin nylon upper.

A good friend of mine, Laser, has hit a plateau with his running, so I surprised him with a short workout last Saturday. We had previously discussed getting back to ground zero with his running; shoes, training schedule, racing, nutrition, cadence, etc. We even discussed the need to rediscover the joy of running.

If it's a chore, don't do it any more. Take a break. He was on the precipice of a long break from running.

We drove to a nearby middle-school track. Classic cinder, a few weeds here and there but overall in nice shape. The bleachers were at least off the track. And the grassy infield, used for lacrosse and soccer, was in fantastic summer shape. Lush grass perfect for the second half of the workout.

The plan was to let Laser feel the freedom of running as he cut across the grassy infield. Barefoot of course. I wanted to see if he could rekindle within himself what pure running was like, even for a short burst.

I did not let him in on the complete workout, and to his credit he allowed me to unpack the steps one at a time. Since he was fairly warmed up after riding alongside me while I put in a ten mile run, I asked him to warm up with a couple of easy laps, as if he were getting ready for an interval workout.

With his shoes on, and on the track, he did two laps of 'run the straight-aways and jog the curves'. I asked him to roll into the running part, hit a good pace, then glide to the end. Curves were for a complete recovery. Work on form, and feel the pace, nothing forced. If you feel yourself losing form, slow down and regroup. I filmed him for review later.

Next step was a 220. Cool it around the curve then open it up for the straight finish, building to the finish, no let up this time. He did it all and as I watched I noticed his pace and gait were constant. He was on a plateau, both mentally and physically. We both knew it, but busting through was going to take more than a single workout.

And that's okay. Laser is in this for the long term, as we are all. The multiple benefits running brings far outweighs a season, a year, or even a few years of setbacks. We now measure running as a lifestyle of decades, not days.

Sitting on a set of portable, metal bleachers, I let Laser know it was time for the second half of the workout. Time to take your shoes and socks off, I said. "Oh, really? This is going to be interesting," he replied.

It was the same routine; two warm-up laps on the grassy infield. Then two sets of strides the length of the infield, followed by one 220. Or about a 200 since it was on also on the grass. Time and distance didn't matter, I again let him know. It's all about feeling the run, working on your form, enjoying the run across the field and letting your barefoot self go.

Thanks to Laser's trust in my guidance, and his belief in himself, the workout was a success! During the grass portion, especially, he was excited and encouraged. When I asked him how it felt, he said, "It feels like my old, kick-ass self!". Laser loves to finish a race or workout hard, and it's been a long time since he's been able to do so. He talked about one of his racing goals, and said, "I just want that feeling of finishing a race hard and not dragging my wasted self across the finish line."

It was a blast for me to see Laser light up during and after the workout. Although he has some nagging injury issues right now, getting a taste of what's to come, what is still within him and waiting for an opportunity to blossom, it was fun to see that Laser is primed once again.

Building back from scratch is going to take some time, yet Laser knows it's all in his best interest. I love knowing he is all in with his goals and what it's going to take to get there. He believes in himself, and even if it takes longer than hoped for, he always finds a way out of the valley of doubt we all run through now and again.

Laser enjoying a run across the field, sans shoes!

Potential - The challenge of a lifetime keeps knocking at my door.

noreply@blogger.com (Brian James Siddons) — Sat, 02 Jun 2018 02:42:00 +0000

Potential.

While tough to fully realize, we all hope to bust through our inhibitors and squeeze as much from ourselves as we can. Along the paths we travel, life choices are made, wayward directions are embarked upon, and parameters are set that inadvertently hold us back.

Standards we will hang onto form around us for all to see, so we push our boundaries in secret, not wanting to expose true goals to others for fear of our possible failure. Hidden behind our best, no matter the level, is a desire for more, nestled in the harsh reality that we may not get there.

My running life has been a roller coaster ride on the Potential Train. As a high-school sophomore in the mid ‘70’s, I ran times that showed potential. 2:08 for the half-mile, 4:45 for the mile and 10:17 for the two-mile. Unfortunately, the rest of my high school seasons were marred with running injuries and disrupted by a less than perfect home life.

Garden Grove, California 1974 High School Cross Country

Brian

I found my way back to running in my early 20’s. Working in an athletic footwear store where there was daily motivation to run, my training became consistent enough to target my first marathon. Eager, but undertrained, I did what most virgin marathoners do; go out too fast and crash. Tumbling across the finish line in 2:59.48, while thankful for sneaking in under three hours, I swore off marathons!

First Marathon 1980 - Orange County, California

Brian

Roughly eight years later, my return to running marathons came in two options: “just to finish” and “pacing a friend”. It was fun, and safe. It would take another 20 years before I would allow myself the chance to go for a Boston Qualifier, and ten more to commit myself to go to war in the battle of Potential versus Performance.

Twin Cities Marathon 1991- For fun!

Brian, Kris

There have always been people that have supported and encouraged my running. I’m so much healthier in all aspects of my life, and they share in the better person I am because of the nearly daily physical, spiritual and mental rinse running provides. I’m so thankful for their support. After my wife, Jeanette, had hit her BQ, the bug infected me, and I began what would turn into a ten-year quest to run Boston. It’s easy to get frustrated and lose interest in getting a BQ, but I can enjoy the journey 100%, so my daily wins kept me from dropping the goal. I knew I had it in me, it was just a matter of getting the work done!

Friends and Family Running Crew 2015

Stan, Dave, Brian, Spencer, Al

In 2008 I attempted my first BQ at the Twin Cities Marathon. It was a disaster. I had over-trained during the final six weeks, including racing a 20 miler a month out as my last long run, and racing a 5k the week before as a tune-up. Even though this was my 15^th marathon, just like my first marathon I went out too fast. It was run-a-way freight train headed off the rails; I had to hold the drawstring on my shorts because all the gels I had pinned to them were pulling them down! My initial pace was too fast, and I wouldn’t slow down! Adding to the insanity, at about mile 9, a cold rain of big, heavy drops began to pour down on the runners. It lasted for over an hour and my body temp dropped as low as my spirit. My quads seemed to fill with cement. I finished over six minutes off my goal of 3:35.59 with a time of 3:42.08.

Three years later, in 2011, I was ready for another BQ attempt, again at the TCM. I was calmer, ready to go and ready to manage the race much better than in 2008. My friend, Bryan, #FlyBry, would run with me. We had planned to stay with a pace group, however what we didn’t plan for was having the pacer drop out at the five-mile point! “I’ve got to stop at the port-a-potty,” he said. “I’ll catch back up,” he said. Never saw him again! Not ready to run untethered, Fly Bry and I did our best to hit our pace with standard watches, no GPS. The race became a lost cause of mis-managed pacing, neither of us knew what our splits should be, with a nearly identical finishing time to 2008 of 3:42.18. Jeanette had a solid day and hit another BQ with a 3:54.41.

By 2011 my training group had gained a new running partner, Dave. Much younger than me, he soon found his distance legs and after his first marathon in the fall of 2011, was ready to not only train with me, but keep me focused for a third BQ attempt, this time at the 2012 Grandma’s Marathon. June, in Duluth, Minnesota, is a fickle time. Mother Nature came in with a typical hot and humid day in 2012. We knew by mile 8 it was going to be rough and I said, “Dave, I’m sweating way too much this early into the race!” We were just two of the thousands that were battered that day, crossing the finish line nearly 5 minutes off our goal pace of 3:40.00 in 3:44.40.

GrandMa's Finish 2012

Brian

Not wanting to admit defeat after Grandma’s (it had to be the heat and humidity!), we immediately made plans to try again in the fall. I was done with racing the TCM course for a fast time and instead decided to race Whistle Stop in northern Wisconsin. Dave, and another of our group, Stan, decided TCM would be their fall marathon. After our recovery from Grandma’s we lit up the training and got ourselves all pumped for October. Dave and Stan turned in great performances at TCM; Dave beating our sub 3:40 goal with a 3:39.53 in only his third marathon, and Stan set a course PR for himself in 3:56.57. Now it was up to me to come through a week later! Whistle Stop turned out to be the right choice, as I finally hit my first BQ! It was a cool weather day and a forgiving course (although mostly on dirt trials, which I would later realize is easier on the quads but slower on the feet). I struggled the last three miles, both physically and mentally, and felt I left some time out on the course. My finishing time of 3:38.32 was 1:28 under the BQ, and with the then-recent changes by the BAA to have already reduced times by 5:59, I was sure I’d make the cut for the 2014 Boston Marathon. Sharing the success of my first BQ with friends and family is one of my favorite days of running! I felt like I had reached a goal that was beyond my comfort zone and dipped into the effervescence of sweet Potential!

Ready for Whistle Stop Marathon 2012

Val, Brian

A funny thing happened along the way to my first Boston entry, which was for the 2014 edition. I was squeaked out by 6 seconds. Mission not accomplished. Potential not realized!

The sting of missing a chance to run Boston hung around like a sore hamstring. I buried it for a while but was determined to try again. The big carrot was a new age group time. I’d be 60 in 2018, and with a fall 2016 race I was confident I’d hit the time, but I wanted sub 3:40. Dave and I planned to test our revised training program, one that would build our late stage endurance, in the summer of 2016 at Grandma’s. Stan, not being one to miss a race, also signed up. It was another hot and humid day with weather warning flags going from yellow to black by the end of the day. Dave and I revamped our race plan accordingly to account for the weather. Since this was more of a time trial than a race we played it safe.

I’ve never seen so many fit looking runners strung out along a course due to heat and humidity. It got to Stan early but he was able to hang on and finish. With a moderate first 18 miles and plenty of drinking at the aid stations, Dave and I were able to finish strong. We leap frogged each other over the last eight miles, “If you’re feeling it, go for it!” Dave said at mile 18. We both pushed and, for the conditions, held up okay during the last miles. I was even able to put in a last mile of 7:40, and Dave came in less than a minute later, also finishing with a fast last mile. Although my finishing time was 3:44.51, it was all about testing the training program. With a solid last 8 miles, we were very encouraged for the fall!

GrandMa's 2016

Brian, Stan, Dave

The October date for TCM 2016, if successful, would get me into Boston for 2018, at age 60. Even though I knew the last six miles of hills was not the best way for me to race for time, there were four of us running, including my wife, Jeanette, and I felt confident I’d clear the BQ with enough cushion to get in. The real challenge, the Potential goal, was a sub 3:40. Turns out those darn hills got to me again and I finished in 3:43.08. Not bad compared to a 3:42.08 eight years earlier, and good enough for a BQ -11 minutes. I had hit my goal, but once again, not my Potential. Jeanette earned her BQ -12 minutes, which is standard for her. Dave rocked the day and finished with a new PR of 3:30.02. In five years, this once novice runner had shown me what can be done as he had dropped his time from just under four hours in his first marathon, to the new PR. I was lucky to have such a solid training partner. Stan stayed steady after coming off an injury just one month out and finished at 4:00.39.

Twin Cities 2016 Post Race

Jeanette, Henry, Andrea, Dave, Stan, Brian

After chasing my BQ for eight years, actually running the Boston Marathon was not on our radar. I had attained the BQ goal that would get me past the second cut, and yet neither Jeanette nor I had a burning desire to run the race. Life was busy, and we had other running goals. Over the winter of 2016-2017 we traveled to Huntington Beach in February to run the Surf City half-marathon, where I ran 1:42.54. In April, we raced the Goldy’s Ten Miler, where I ran 1:15.16, here in Minneapolis. By this point I was in decent early season shape and the itch of Marathon Potential was creeping in. I had promised to pace my friend, Stan, at the Lake Wobegon Marathon in May, which would get my summer off to a good start. Deep down I was setting things in place for an attempt at a sub 3:40 in the fall of 2017. To get me there I knew I had to do more than I had in the past ten years. I had to identify two of my biggest weak links and come to terms with them. It was time to come clean.

Goldy's Ten Miler - April 2017

Brian, Jeanette, Stan

Following my marathon escort run with Stan in May, which was a whole adventure unto itself (here is a link to my story on how Stan and Don survived huge challenges), I took some recovery time and then worked hard to be ready for a local 5k. It would be a speed benchmark for the remainder of my marathon training. On a warm day in early July, I was able to knock down a 21:04 finishing time. I felt ready to head into a running schedule geared toward endurance training, as I now knew I had the speed I needed for sub 3:40. What I had to strengthen was Weak Link #1: the need for better endurance over the final miles of a marathon, and Weak Link # 2: the need to sharpen my mental game for the last six to eight miles. I had to find ways to physically and mentally push past the part in a marathon where the course is lined with the walking dead. “I felt good for 18, maybe 20, then it all fell apart,” was not the refrain I wanted to repeat. Everyone feels good through 20. I had to find a way to race to the end!

Lake Wobegon Marathon - May 2017

Stan, Don, Brian

I began to read and study what others had written about breaking through walls to maximize ones physical and mental abilities. I was encouraged and felt I just might be able to do this. My friend, Stan, also wanted to come back with a fall race, so we made plans to race Whistle Stop, the same course I had earned my first BQ at in 2012. I continued to frame up my training plan, and in late July, high on the 5k time and feeling good about my chances, I wrote down a complete, day by day workout schedule to get me there. Two days later, on an easy run with Jeanette, I pulled my left calf and would be set back for three months! Potential chewed me up and spit me out like a cottonwood branch through a wood chipper. Stan wasn’t far behind me. He had back issues pop up and had to scuttle his plans for a fall marathon, too.

Schedule for Whistle Stop 2017

With any setback there also comes time to sit down and eat plenty of humble pie, as well as an opportunity to digest said meal with an honest review and dissection of your running program. The good, the bad, the challenges, the hopes and the goals. I was nagged by past near-misses and yearned to join the club of wall busters, those reaching their Potential. I wanted to know the race effort I could give would be smart, well planned and properly executed to the best of my ability. I wanted to leave it all on the course without having it come crashing down around me! I wanted to reach my Potential for at least a day!

Now that fall 2017 was out of the picture, Stan and I set our sights on the Fargo Marathon in May, 2018. Fargo would be a new course for both of us and one we had talked about in the past. It was flat and fast, well organized and we heard great reviews from friends. Except for the wind. It’s always windy in Fargo! Well, there’s usually some kind of weather during a marathon, we surmised, and agreed to take our chances on Fargo! I had a new target date with Potential.

Shortly after Stan and I signed up for Fargo, my wife and I, of course, decided to run Boston 2018. Our friends and family helped us realize what a special opportunity we had in that both of us qualified in the same year. Jeanette had qualified many times, but this was my first chance to run. We chose to enter and run together, at a slightly relaxed pace, to celebrate our BQ accomplishment! The only thing was, Fargo, my focus race, was just five weeks after Boston! How in the heck was I going to train, run Boston, recover and then race to my Potential at Fargo? Instead of worrying, I accepted to timeline and knew I’d be able to manage the training. I had to, there was no other choice. Reaching Potential isn’t an easy task, I had to break new ground if it was going to happen.

Before my calf injury, I had figured that after racing a fall 2017 marathon, Boston 2018 would be my 25^th marathon, and a good time to take a break from marathoning. I would have just turned 60, could focus on shorter distances for a couple of years and see what I could accomplish in my age group. Of course, all of this was conjecture as I was still dealing with a sore calf. I was excited about spring, but still concerned if I’d be healthy enough to finish Boston and race Fargo!

Looking back at my training log, I can follow the rehab I needed to get back to where I was before the calf injury. As we age, it sure seems like we get out of shape quicker, and it takes longer to get back to where we were! It was late October before I was able to push through a decent workout and feel like I was back; a 10k run on my own that I distinctly remember telling myself; “Run with fatigue!”. I averaged 7:53 a mile with a close of 7:41. My body was ready to go!

Or so I thought. Four weeks later I was taking three days completely off due to a melanoma spot on my left leg. I was lucky in that it was a local, In Situ, skin cancer, meaning it did not travel. So, a nice gash on my leg (the doc did an excellent job, hardly a scar) that needed healing, meaning about a week of easy running. I’m thankful it was caught early and was confined. As runners, we spend a lot of time in the sun, it’s important that we schedule yearly screenings for skin cancer.

In Situ Melanoma

At this point I was becoming a little paranoid that I’d never get to the starting line in Hopkinton, but once I got back to running after the surgery things picked up. Workouts were coming together, and I was able to test myself a few times. As winter approached it was time to head to the Y on a regular basis. Thankfully there were a few of us meeting there, including Stan, and of course having the luxury of Jeanette also training helped both her and I get to the Y more often.

One thing about treadmill running, you can really work on your mental focus. Over the winter months I was able to dial in on a weekly training program of five to six days running. It included Tuesday, Thursday and Saturday effort runs and two or three maintenance days. This kept me fresh enough to stay motivated, and consistent enough to see measured progress. Tuesday was a progressive run, Thursday was marathon pace day and Saturday, whether at the Y or outside, was an easy long run. As the weeks and months went by I was able to adjust times and efforts, and the physical and mental tools both benefitted. It was a particularly long winter, but other than a minor, three-day setback due to a sore instep, I was very pleased with the training. Potential was getting closer on all fronts.

Winter Training - Typical Week

As spring fought to gain ground on winter, Boston was quickly approaching. Fortunately, all systems were go for Jeanette and me. I told myself that bouncing back after Boston to be ready for Fargo would make me stronger. The plan was to treat Boston as a long training run, a very long training run, recover for a couple of weeks, ramp up for a couple weeks and then taper for about ten days. I was hoping the easy pace at Boston wouldn’t take too much of a toll on me. I’d respect the distance and get back into training as soon as possible. Wow was I in for a cold, wet and windy surprise!

The now famous Boston Marathon of 2018 was a battle, no matter the pace. Jeanette did a fantastic job that day! We made sure she was geared up to stay warm during the race, since her low body fat could lead to hypothermia. Thankfully, the gear we dressed in worked out perfectly! Keeping a steady pace and finally, heading right on Hereford and left on Boylston to the finish line, we conquered the storm! Even with inclement weather and extra gear, which after the race felt like a 25-pound sack of cement, we were less than five minutes off our goal time. Finishing in 4:04:53, Boston was a memory the two of us will share forever! I’m thankful, and lucky, that my wife is such a studette! We celebrated with a finish line kiss!

Boston 2018 Finish Line - The Kiss!

I took four days off after Boston to recover. It wasn’t so much the pace as it was the workload of running in the weather and wet gear. By the following Monday I was feeling pretty good and put in a nice 6 miler at just under eight-minute pace. The next Saturday, about two weeks post Boston, I did a 14 miler with Dave at 8:06 pace. The run felt great and we closed with a 7:19 mile just by stretching out the legs. I was optimistic but cautious. Having been through enough training setbacks I was making sure to take rest days when needed, and ease back on the pace during some of the workouts. For now, it was quality over quantity. The miles were in the bank, and as my brother Al, (the person that got me into running during high school) was telling me, it was down to a matter of sharpening what I had developed over the previous months, even years, for the opportunity to maximize my Potential at Fargo.

Sharing my running with loved ones has always been what makes the effort worthwhile, and the pain during a training run or race more bearable. Jeanette, Dave, Stan and Al, have been the cornerstones of my running over the past years. They have always shown great support, been motivating, listened to my concerns, and provided sparks to keep me going when the flame seems to flicker. I have learned much from each of them, as I have from others, but these four are the ones I think about during the tough times of a race. They’ve been with me on the runs, cheered me on the good days and consoled me on the not so good days. I also think of my kids, friends and family during races. They, too, have seen me work hard, succeed at times, and fail at times. I’ll never forget my kids taking care of me after one of the Twin City marathons when I was too cold and wiped out to move, and how much it meant to me.

The Next Generation of Runners

Bill, Theo, Jackie

As the reality of Fargo approached, I was beginning to feel the pressure to finally break through, to hit my Potential. I’d had enough of the ‘Good job’ races and wanted to do more, but I also held onto the knowledge that however the day went, I’d be okay. I’d have the love and support of family and friends that knew I had put in the prep work and, no matter the outcome, they would be there for me.

But I was ready. I wanted this one. It was about…damn…time!

Two weeks out from race day, marathoners begin to feel off their game. This thing called tapering starts and our training rituals are traded in for a succinct set of runs and off days we hope to parlay into a payoff come race day. After months of piling on miles and grinding through stress workouts, the notion of cutting back takes some getting used to. It’s not like we can set it and forget it, our taper, that is. Each season, each marathon, can be different. We improve, we battle injury, we get older. I knew I had put in the work, and that I was in better shape than I had been in over six years, maybe more, so I had to be mature and accept the taper like a seasoned runner should. Ugh! There goes my fitness, here come the extra pounds!

There was one key run, an 18 miler, just before my taper that I did change, thanks to talking with Al. Before Boston, Jeanette and I were lucky enough to hook up with my good friend, Kevin, (a stellar runner and as entertaining a conversationalist on training runs as you’re ever going to find) for a couple of long runs. Kevin’s group was a perfect fit! We ran the first half together, then I was able to run with Kevin’s friend, Todd, who was also training for Fargo, for the return miles at a slightly faster pace. It was a real blessing to have those runs with Kevin’s group. Post Boston, I was able to get a couple of solid 14 milers in with Dave, so I was looking forward to the final 18 miler two weeks out from Fargo as my last endurance test. Then I spoke with Al.

Group Runs Are Great

Bill, Dave, Kevin, Eric, Brian

Sometimes we try so hard to reach our Potential, we blow right by it. We get close enough to grab a cup of success and we have about as much finesse as a rugby player in the middle of a scrum. It’s easy to grapple in the mud, what I needed was a soft landing for race day, and Al set me straight. “The hay’s in the barn. An 18 miler will take you two weeks to recover from, and that’s race day.”

He was right, of course. I had waffled on the mileage, especially after my key runs had been going so well. I’d trade in a slower, longer run for a faster, moderate length run. It turned out to be the perfect answer, a 14 miler at just under goal race pace that didn’t tax me. It also allowed me the opportunity to come back the following Wednesday with a solid, hilly 8 miler at 7:38 pace with Dave. It was a confidence booster at just the right time! Ten days to go and I felt like I was supposed to; In position to succeed and that’s all I could ask of myself. I let myself accept the fact that race day could go well and tried not to let that weigh me down.

Two Weeks Out

The anticipation during marathon week is always exciting, and this week was right at the top for me. Since Stan and I would be traveling to Fargo on Friday, I had a short work week for the Saturday race. Working hard to concentrate on work during the day, not doing any crazy chores at home and trying not to think about the race too much filled my week. It flew by and suddenly it was Friday morning!

Marathon week is also the time to, as Strother Martin so eloquently put it to Paul Newman in Cool Hand Luke, “Get your mind right”. I usually have a few time goals in a marathon; A, B and C. I’ll usually admit C and B to my running group, but A I hold closer to the vest. That’s the Potential, of course. The raw number that McMillan and Daniels charts say I’m good for, according to my other times at shorter distances. The number I have yet to hit. It’s also about the same time needed to enter the New York Marathon as a time qualifier. Way out of reach, leading me to try for the half marathon entry time, which I feel is closer to my ability.

Once I set the time goals I figure my pace plan, which this time was a lot tougher. I announce two goals to my friends, “Sub 3:40, but I should be able to beat my 2012 BQ of 3:38.32 and be somewhere around 3:37.30”. I print out a pace band for 3:38.00. Deep down I feel I can go faster, but it’s safer to think 3:37. It would still satisfy me to beat 2012, six years later, but what have I really got in me? Can I find the perfect pace between crash and burn at 22 miles, and red-lining it to 26.2? My race plan would get me to 20 in decent shape. Hitting my Potential would take getting to the finish line feeling strong.

Fargo Expo

Stan, Brian

It is always windy in Fargo! Race morning was cold, about 42’, and windy, with gusts over 25mph. Stan reminded me that most of the course is in neighborhoods and parks, so we should have a decent windbreak. I accepted that, and once on the course realized he was right. Sure, we had some tough headwinds, but we also had some side and tailwind. Dressed in shorts, gloves, winter hat, and long-sleeve under a short sleeve, I was comfortable in my gear. It was overcast so I left my sunglasses in the car. I wasn’t going to let the weather affect me. With the memory of Boston so fresh in mind, this weather was, pardon the pun, a breeze!

I knew I had put myself in position to physically perform on race day, Weak Link #1 was history. I was ready to attack the Weak Link #2, overcoming the mental challenge marathons put me through from mile 18 and beyond. In the past I have gone into what I’d describe as a ‘foggy state of mind’ late in a race, and afterward wish I had been able to snap out of it, or not get lost in the fog at all. The fog can hit during any distance race. It’s that point when you should decide to go, and you just can’t get clarity. Being able to fight through would be key to a successful effort. I had to, as Dave advised, “Stay in the mile you are in!” I also had to stay loose at the start. I’ve been told I like to be social during marathons. It’s true. I do like to talk for the first half to keep me on pace and not go out too fast. It also helps me stay relaxed. I needed to be ready to focus at Fargo by the halfway point, so it was extremely important to stick to the pre-race plan; 8:25 pace for the first five, then 8:15 for the next fifteen. That would get me to 20 with clarity, and then it would be up to me to remain in the moment and get to the finish without any major setbacks. There would be no room for excuses today, I just needed the race to start and let if unfold, hopefully, as planned! Stan and I wished each other good luck, and then the Fargo Dome exploded with fireworks to start the marathon. It was time to run!

Funny how so much pre-planning can go out the window at the last minute. Fargo happens to start inside a large, domed arena, a place where most GPS watches won’t catch a signal. Hmmm, how’s that going to work for pacing? I knew this was the likely scenario beforehand and was planning to let the GPS grab the satellite feed once outside. I’d run on pace and miles regardless of how close they were to the official race markers. Later, much later, I would realize how helpful it would have been to know exactly how far off my watch was for overall time.

One of my key pieces of advice for the first few miles of a marathon is to start slow, and then run slower. Having just come off ten days to two weeks of taper, marathoners feel great and have a habit of running too fast at the start of their 26.2-mile race. It’s tough to control, however with a GPS watch you have no excuse for running faster than planned. Although I ran by feel for most of my road workouts, on race day I was an addict for my GPS pace. I monitored it often during the first three miles and as good as I felt, held back to maintain the planned pace. At this point I was running with a few other marathoners and we were beginning to form a group. By mile five we were a bit ahead of the 3:40 pacer, just where I needed to be, and I was feeling very fresh. So far, so good!

Running easy, talking with Florida Guy and Bismarck Guy, I was appreciating the workouts I had put in and the rest I had taken. It was working. Still early, but my mind was already thinking of when to make a move. The farther I got into the race, the more I began to prepare myself for the inevitable clash of mind over body. If I was going to get close to my Potential, I’d have to steer clear of the mental fog that would want to roll in about mile 22.

As much as I had talked in the first half of the race, the second half was all internal focus. I had planned to get to 20 and see what I had, however, I also had a back-up plan of going at 18, as I had in 2016 at Grandma’s Marathon. What I wasn’t expecting was telling myself that at 16 it was okay to get serious. I worked my way up to a small group of runners and ran with them for a couple of miles, and then slowly pulled away. The course then meandered back into neighborhoods, lined with awesome spectators keeping the runners motivated! Lots of music, lots of cheering. I fed off the energy and worked hard to stay on task.

I was excited as I maintained my goal pace, and freaked out when I put in a 7:44 mile around mile 20. It was happening! I had gained momentum by focusing on the mile at hand and was keeping mentally motivated by thinking of those that have been a part of my running. Miles were sweeping by and suddenly I was approaching mile 22, and in good shape!

As flat as Fargo is, there are some rises in the course. Nothing major, but they are there. One underpass comes in the 23^rd mile. This year, combined with the wind, it was the one section of the race where I look back and ask, “Could I have been mentally tougher”? I had prepared for this fatigue, it was the battle-royale for me and a key to my success. After coming up from the underpass the course made a quick right and put you right into the wind. It was a double whammy for me; the underpass took a bit more out of me than I had expected, and the wind was brutal. I adjusted my running gait and headed downtown toward the Fargo Theater, watching cups and paper blowing across the road in a frenzied race to the other side.

Although I did not know my exact overall time, I was pretty confident my pace was under 3:38. The mile splits had been consistently under 8:15 all day, except for the first few miles, so mentally I was feeling good about the finishing time. While I was able to fight off the fog, there was a light mist I had to deal with. At two aid stations, somewhere in the miles between 21 and 24, as I grabbed some fluids I took a few seconds to stretch out my quads. They were beat, as were my calves, however I knew from experience messing with my calves that late in a race can lead to serious cramps. Maybe it was 5 seconds, maybe it was 20 seconds of stretching. I have always felt a few seconds used on fluids or a quick stretch can easily be gained back, however on such a day when everything was going so well, I look back and wonder how bad was it? Did I really need the stretch, or was I fighting internal battles to stay “In the mile” and keep my clarity? Whatever it was I shook it off and continued, promising myself that I wasn’t going to stretch again.

The last two miles were all about getting the most out of myself and finishing strong. Striding along, working on meeting my Potential. I drew upon all the workouts I had done to get me this far into the race, telling myself, “You’ve felt like this in workouts, you can do this!” I thought about family and friends and felt their love and support. I was working so hard mentally that my body just went along for the ride. Yes, it was physically demanding, but the mental transformation from being a runner pushing myself along the route, to a racer letting my mind embrace the experience, made the last two miles the best part of the marathon! I was feeling my Potential!

The Fargo Marathon finishes inside the same dome it starts in. I can’t remember if I’ve ever raised my arms at a finish line, but for this one I did. Not knowing my official time (I had stopped my watch a few seconds late and wasn’t sure how much I had to add from the start), I knew the day was a success if just for the effort. I had run the plan and the plan had allowed me to push farther and faster, yet not be crushed. I had avoided the fog, run past the wall, and put in a solid last couple of miles. I had run to my Potential. Stopping just past the finish line, I gave a prayer of thanks to everyone I could think of, I hope they felt the positive vibes.

It’s weird finishing a marathon with no friends around. I wandered about, finisher medal around my neck and a bottle of water in my hand. The post-race food wasn’t very appealing to me, and I was starting to feel a little-light headed and queasy. Not uncommon for me after a marathon. I headed over to the first-aid area and nurse Maria checked me in, read my vitals and gave me a bottle of Powerade. Ten minutes later I was feeling much better and made my way to the bag check.

While going through my gear I was struck with the thought of how fortunate I am. Married to an incredible woman and having three amazing children is my pinnacle of luck. Jeanette and our kids have taught me many lessons and continue to inspire me with the things they do and the way they act. As a running partner with Jeanette and as a youth coach for Jackie, Spencer and Harrison, I’ve had the pleasure to see each of them, on numerous occasions, step up and reach their Potential in sports. As they have gotten older I see their new goals reached in education, life partners, friends and careers. It’s something I draw upon during tough times, and not just running. Their life experiences help me to be a better person, just as the experiences of other family and friends have helped shape the person I have become. The experience of one is shared by many.

It Isn't Always About Running

Harrison, second from left, back row, following his passion one pitch at a time.

Some say life is a marathon. We start out slow, cautiously finding our way among family and friends, jobs and careers. We work hard to maintain a pace we can handle, and grow from, and still enjoy the many adventures life will throw at us along the way. Sure, there are going to be miles (days, months, years) we will need to grind through, and days we just don’t feel like running, but the journey is so worth the effort.

The months of training, both physical and mental, helped me accomplished my A goal with a time of 3:35.41 and run to my Potential at Fargo. I finished nearly three minutes faster than my first BQ at Whistle Stop, six years earlier, in 2012. At age 60, I had run 25 seconds faster than my next fastest time, Twin Cities in 2001, and my fastest since a 3:26.25 at Grandma's in 1987.

I earned my third BQ, this one a -19:19 in my current age group, and a BQ of -4:19 in my previous age group, the one I was squeaked out of for Boston 2014. It was a good day.

If life is a marathon, I hope it’s one where we all reach our Potential.

It is possible.

Brian James Siddons

May, 2018

IT TAKES A VILLAGE TO RACE A RUNNER

noreply@blogger.com (Brian James Siddons) — Sat, 24 Mar 2018 01:56:00 +0000

My first attempt at a Boston Qualifier (BQ) was at the Medtronic Twin Cities Marathon in 2008. I was working for Running Room and was swept up in the fervor of marathoning by customers, friends and family members that either ran marathons or wanted to run marathons. I quickly discovered a support system was the elixir that would keep my motivation fueled.

For some, motivation may be an individual we run with multiple times during the week. For others it’s the weekend group run that keeps us on task. I ran for years on my own, however when I ramped up training to point for a specific marathon time, it was the training with and encouragement by others that helped me reach my goal in the fall of 2016 with a BQ -11:52 for 2018.

When we toe the line on April 16th, each of our village-of-supporters will be thinking of us and, in spirit, will be along for the ride. We’ll have times during the race that we’ll think of them; we’ll run a mile in honor of the effort they gave us during a training run, and we’ll crack a smile for them as we think of a workout that produced as much humor as it did sweat.

As race day draws near, I try to remember my supporters and keep them in the loop on what’s going on, to share the excitement and make sure they feel part of this historic event. Like the cheering crowds that line the course on race day, our village-of-supporters are there to help us succeed and it’s only fair we acknowledge them every chance we get. I can’t wait to share the experience of running the Boston Marathon with my family and friends. Without their support I wouldn’t be the runner I am today.

Brian James Siddons

3.23.18

Celebrating 60 Took A Few Days More Than Planned

noreply@blogger.com (Brian James Siddons) — Mon, 19 Mar 2018 01:40:00 +0000

I’ve been looking forward to spring 2018 for a couple of years now. Turning age 60, this past March 9, was at the forefront of my thoughts the past few weeks and included things like feeling lucky to be healthy, spending time with my wonderful wife and seeing my children continue along the path of life via schooling, marriage and bringing our first grandchild into the world. Reflections on the past have been bouncing around my head, but the push to keep reaching for new goals, new adventures and new lessons in life is stronger.

Last fall, my wife and I decided to sign up for this year’s Boston Marathon, our first, which is currently number one on our focus chart. Although we had both qualified with times over ten minutes faster than our respective age groups required, life was speeding by and we nearly let the opportunity pass. There will come another time that fits better with everyone’s schedule, we told ourselves. Let’s wait until the boys are out of school and the grandson is older, then everyone can go, we decided. It wasn’t long until our friends and family let us know we had to sign up for 2018, with many good reasons to do so. The top two reasons were, one, “Because you never know what life will bring!”, followed closely by, “When you will both qualify again in the same year?” And so, we signed up, and we are incredibly thankful for the encouragement.

As a lifelong runner midway through my fourth decade of running, I can detect when my training is going well. The last couple of years I have had, for me, decent results in the few races I’ve done. Looking ahead at entering a new age group, I’ve been motivated to line up my training to see what I can accomplish over the next couple of years. It’s been well over 30 years since my marathon PR of 2:59.48, but I feel ready to try and see if I can dip under 3:38 at age 60. I’d call that a successful season and something I should go after before it’s too late. Previous to my wife and I signing up for Boston, I and a friend had signed up to race the Fargo Marathon in May, just five weeks after Boston. I’ve been double-motivated this winter to be prepared for these two events, something that while exciting, does come with a front seat on the roller-coaster of long distance running.

Training for an April marathon in Minnesota does have its drawbacks. Prime running weather it is not, so we’ve put in many miles on treadmills at the local YMCA. With plenty of others around us also training for their own health and events, it really hasn’t been too bad. In fact, the consistency of the ‘mill has brought us into spring in decent shape. Coupled with a few long, outdoor runs things are looking good for April 16. Boston will be a celebration run for us. We are looking forward to enjoying our run together and soaking in all that race day has to offer for first timers. We will be spending time in the greater Boston area a few days ahead and after the marathon to enjoy the historic sites, too.

One thing I’ve learned over the past few years is that to gain a PR ( in my case an Age Group PR ) you need to remember it can also stand for Patience and Recovery. This struck again just last week, on the day before my birthday. I had come off my first 20-mile training run the Saturday before, which had gone well. I even took it easy the following Tuesday, backing off a bit on my progressive run. After another easy day on Wednesday, Thursday morning’s pace run was proceeding just fine. Six and a half miles into the run I felt a slight twinge at the top of the instep on my right foot. Okay, I thought, just a passing tweak. A few strides later I had to step off the treadmill belt and massage my foot. I had felt a much deeper twinge. Foot massaged and stretched, I was back on the treadmill. It took only a few strides to realize my run was over. This was a brand new pain, and sharp at that. I let my wife, J’net, who was running on a treadmill next to me, know that I was done with my run and I’d meet her downstairs. Heading to the locker room I wasn’t worried about running long on Saturday, I was worried about finishing Boston!

Injuries are a part of long distance running, and as we age they pop up much more frequently. It’s difficult to re-train yourself in the battle against injuries. When to hold off from running more often even when you feel good, or to lay back when you really want to push harder. It’s even tougher still when you feel you’ve taken the precautions to stay healthy and something new shows up when things are going just fine, as was the case with my right foot. I didn’t hesitate on treatment; Advil, ice, massage and stretching. Oh, and no running for three days. Not the way I wanted my first running weekend at age 60 to play out, but it was a hard reminder of how quickly things can change.

Having time to try and figure out what happened, I surmised that since my right foot strikes the ground at a straighter angle than my left, it was taking slightly more of a hit on the treadmill. Each time my right foot came forward it caught just a bit more of the resistance the belt feeds back in its reverse motion, especially during faster workouts, and eventually my foot gave way to a breakdown. At least that’s what I’m going with for now.

Forced rest isn’t always a bad thing, “You won’t lose any fitness” was the mantra from J’net and my running friends. I agreed and let the weekend pass with a bit more birthday celebrating and eating than I had planned, but it was all good. Sixty only comes around once in a lifetime!

By Monday evening things were going much better. My treatment had paid off and I was heading out the door with J’net for an easy five miler to test out my foot. I did change the lacing on my running shoes, I was not using the upper eyelets, hoping to ease the pressure on my instep. Throughout the run my foot felt fine, even as we sidestepped patches of snow and ice on the asphalt path through our local park. By the time we returned I was very pleased that my foot had totally ignored the effort. No pain, no stiffness.

My fears of not running Boston were put to rest. Of course, I was not taking the quick recovery for granted. The previous fall I had pulled a calf muscle and was out from running for six weeks, and with another six weeks to get back to a basic fitness level if was a three-month issue. Three days off was no big deal, and the next evening I headed out for an effort run. Usually on Tuesdays I do a progressive workout, starting with a warm-up mile, then dropping 15 to 30 seconds a mile each mile or two. On the treadmill I had worked up to doing the last five of my eight miles at 7:30 pace. This had taken about five weeks to accomplish. During those weeks I had substituted one of the progressive runs for a workout of 3 x 2 miles at 7:14 pace for something different. This would be my first outdoor effort run of the season, and my first age 60 effort.

Sometimes you know right away how the run may go. Taking shorter strides as I began, I felt better than I had figured I would. It had taken me a while to get out the door to run after arriving home from work. I delayed myself a couple times and almost didn’t get out. Down the block I went, gauging my effort from the start. A couple turns and I had a nice flat stretch ahead of me to get into rhythm. It was working. After two miles I knew I had started out well, even though I don’t look at my gps watch on these runs. I told myself, “It’s good to run fatigued!” About the third mile in, my system was, as I like to say, fully operational; lungs full, blood flowing, mind locked in on the goal. Just before the first of three moderate uphills started I was debating between a six or eight mile distance for the workout. Six seemed not long enough, even at the effort I was putting out, but eight, after the foot thing, seemed like it would be pushing it. I settled on seven.

Heading up the first incline I though of my Boston Buddies and the many hill repeats they have worked through. Motivation from thinking of them hitting their hills got me through the roughly two miles that included three inclines and declines. After that section the out and back course was mostly flat with a few subtle rises through neighborhoods. The last stretch was the same section that got me rolling, and was a blast to head back home along. “This is what running is!” I said to myself. Body working, mind on task, goal being met with a solid effort. This was fun!

Nearing the last turn into my neighborhood I kept steady. No kick, just keeping the effort, although I had worked harder the last two miles. When the mile seven beep sounded on my watch, I intentionally kept going for a few more strides, knowing I could have run longer. I hit the stop button and began my cool down jog.

I play the pace game many runners do before they look at their watch. You begin to guess how the run felt, and what the pace will end up being, secretly hoping for a ‘faster than it felt’ time. I did feel the run had gone well, and I figured low 7:40’s, maybe high to mid 7:30’s. I looked at the total time, did some quick math ( not my strong suit ) and figured, “Oh, 7:40’s.” Kinda bummed, but then remembered, “Hey, I ran seven miles, not six!” Final overall pace was 7:27, five seconds faster than my best mid-distance workout last year. I was much happier, especially since I finished the last two going 7:20 and 7:10, feeling good.

As disappointed as I was a mere five days earlier when I had walked away from the treadmill with a sore foot, the turnaround was worth it. I was humbled with an injury, and then humbled with a workout that told me things are gonna be okay. Stick with the plan, absorb the shocks of the roller-coaster with calm, and then get right back at it once it’s go time. Turning 60 and being midway through my fourth decade of running, it’s great to get as excited about running as I did in my youth. I’m still learning, and that’s awesome!

An Unexpected Running Experience: The 2017 Lake Wobegon Trail Marathon

noreply@blogger.com (Brian James Siddons) — Mon, 29 May 2017 03:07:00 +0000

Stan Brouillard, Brian Siddons nearing the 5 mile point at Lake Wobegon Trail Marathon.

CK Photograpy, Lake Wobegon Trail Marathon

An Unexpected Running Experience: The 2017 Lake Wobegon Trail Marathon
By
Brian James Siddons

Having just finished Matt Fitzgerald’s book, “How Bad Do You Want It? The Psychology Of Mind Over Muscle,” I was intrigued by the mental toughness tools used by the world-class athletes Fitzgerald cited, specifically race day focus, as aids to improve my own running performances. Looking back at my BQ (Boston Qualifier) in the fall of 2012, for a spot at the Boston Marathon in 2014, and then missing the revised cut by six seconds, I wondered if my focus had been better, wouldn’t I have run at least seven seconds faster?

While the stories Fitzgerald recounted were truly inspirational, I realized my quest for sharper mental performances might best be served through the experiences of runners fighting battles for improvements much less daunting than national championships or major marathon titles. Little did I know that within a week of finishing the last chapter, I’d be a participatory eyewitness to dozens of said runners, during the Lake Wobegon Trail Marathon, doing their best to show me the way. It would turn out to be my slowest marathon ever, and yet, running alongside my good friend and training partner, Stan, it would be one of the most incredibly positive events in my 40 plus years of running experiences.

Getting to the starting line of this marathon began innocently enough. Over the years, well decades, of my training, I’ve learned that to fend off injury setbacks it’s extremely important to be patient with our recovery days, not be a patient in recovery! Stan, too, is well-aware of the need to stay healthy. His recent marathon training programs have left him over trained with forced time off, usually at the crucial one month from race day timeline, resulting in slower than normal finishing times. In January, while discussing his most recent marathon crashes, we started talking about getting him back to his previous sub 3:55 finishing times for an attempt at a 60-64 age group BQ in a couple of years. As an alternative to his recent training regimes he agreed to follow a program I would design and guide him through for his next marathon, and then build on the results for his BQ race. Stan, or Laser as we call him due to his laser-like focus, was unsure at first. After a few runs and some table talks about how the training would work, he was all in! We’d take a low-key approach; he’d be slightly undertrained, but 100% healthy with no injury down time. Our race day time goal of a modest 3:59.59, with a secondary goal of 3:54.59, both well within his capabilities, were the foundation for our training paces. The Lake Wobegon Trail Marathon, where he had run his PR of 3:46 in 2013, was the easy choice for our race day effort on May 13, 2017.

Local, rural marathons are a meandering tour through wonderfully quaint places, and Lake Wobegon is right there with the best of them. From the early morning, friendly faces that direct you to catch a bus to the starting line of this point to point course, to each of the volunteers along the way, you are surrounded by great people all morning long. The marathon begins on the Holdingford high school track, and follows a single road for one and a half miles to the Lake Wobegon Trail, where you then run along a paved-over train line to the finish. Leafed out trees shade much of the first half of the course, which then opens up to running through a few small towns, along lakes and in clear view of gentle rolling acreage. The scenic course is very flat, with the exception of one small grade at mile ten that even I don’t mind. Aid stations are handled by helpful locals making time to support the event. With a limit of 450 runners, the participant mix is that of a few runners looking for fast times, others that have heard about what a fantastic event Wobegon is, plenty of return finishers and of course those that are on their maiden marathon trek.

Marathon training is a love affair with the running life. We run with tunnel vision, looking the only direction we can, forward, to the light of race day. The blinders we proudly wear keep us safe from distractions that would otherwise impede the progress we desire, that of inching closer to the escape hatch known as the starting line. We plan, we adjust, we sacrifice, we prepare. We chart our course like a salty ship captain returning to a cluster of islands known for coral reefs, rough seas and unexpected swells. When we break through the trials of training and into the light, race day can be its own master. The best laid plans may need to be discarded when the winds of marathon day rise. Some days we must go where the breeze takes us, for to battle the wind is akin to fighting an invisible enemy you’d never see attack or regroup. You will be left flailing until you fall, overcome by your inability to admit this particular day is not for winning, but for surviving. And sometimes, if you are lucky, I mean really lucky, you are presented with a life changing experience.

Committing to a new training program is a tough challenge, and Laser did a fantastic job of staying with mine. He would sometimes admit to feeling short on the long run tally, as our longest ended up being 18 versus his normal dose of a few 20 milers. On the interval score, Laser had done an amazing job. In addition to some half-mile and mile repeats, he came through with flying colors on one of our most challenging workout sessions, 2 times 2 miles! We’d warm-up with an easy mile and a half, then run two miles at tempo pace, take a three-minute easy jog interval, then run another two miles at tempo, followed by an easy mile cool down. Laser did this twice on the treadmill before the weather warmed up and we began training outdoors. After a ten-mile race in April, which we did not peak for, we began to back off o the intervals and work on endurance. A couple of weeks into this part of the training, Laser felt that his legs were really getting under him and his trust in the program grew. The tenuous walk along the rail of fitness is a tough balancing act and we were now on our third and most important section of the training program. Laser began to leave the muscle ache of intervals behind and find his endurance, and now I was becoming more confident that we just may have his training program dialed in for race day success.

Early on in training, marathon race day looms on the horizon like a hillside just beyond reach. We move toward it for weeks, when suddenly the marathon is now approaching us! The magnitude of the upcoming event hits hard. Our respect for the distance moves us to self-preservation mode and we begin our taper. With weekly mileage in the 45-55 mile range, we taper only moderately for two weeks. The pace is easier and we begin to allow the feeling of being race-ready to envelop us like a comfortable hoody and pair of sweat-pants after a tough workout. Laser and I had this final part of training set and made only a few minor tweaks, due to his busy schedule of moving his college age kids back home from school. Not the best thing to be doing during taper, but he’s done it before with no ill effects. We did our pre-race planning at this point, and addressed the elephant in the room; pacing for race day. Like so many marathoners, Laser has usually gone out trying to put a few minutes of cushion into the first half of the race, knowing he would tire after 20. This would be my toughest challenge to him; slow the early miles down! After much discussion we agreed, well, he acquiesced to my directive, to run the first six to seven miles at a few seconds slightly slower than race pace, (so as not to fade at the end and give back time in minutes) then run at pace until 20. After that we’d see what he had left for the final 10k. Besides, I reminded him, this was just a test event, a building block for later. He had nothing to lose and possibly a more fitting program to fine tune over the next couple of years. Again, he was all in and I inked the final copy of our race day plan as “Approved!”

Late in the afternoon on Friday, the day before the race, Laser called. He was making sure I had left work early so I had time to rest up before Saturday’s race. He’s such a good guy, and taking time to check on me was cool. Trouble was, he sounded as if he had smoked a pack of cigarettes that morning! His ‘allergy’ that had kicked in a couple of days earlier had gotten much worse. Afterward I said to my wife, Jeanette, that I wouldn’t be surprised if he woke up the next morning unable to speak…which sometimes isn’t a terrible thing, as Laser can be a talker!

Race day morning I received a great wake-up text from Laser, “Let’s run a marathon today!” Game on! I picked him up at 4:16 am and he sounded much better. He had a great attitude and during pre-race prep he showed few signs of any allergy problems. He had by-passed using over-the-counter meds for fear of dehydration or any other ill effects, but had doubled up on his Nettie-pot use to clear his airways!

Once we had picked up our race number, we did the normal pre-race routines; pinned our numbers onto our shirts, felt excited/nervous and chatted with fellow runners. We made sure that plenty of Vaseline was lubed in all the right places, Lasers’ water belt was filled and my GU packs were slid into the pockets of my shorts. Check list complete! The race began right on time at 7:00 am and we passed over the start line chip mat a few seconds later, taking a three-quarter lap on the high school track. As we moved along at 9:06 pace, Laser was almost giddy at how slow and comfortable the pace was. I was glad to see him rested and ready.

2017 Start of the Lake Wobegon Trail Marathon.

Photo by CK Photography, Lake Wobegon Trail Marathon

Marathon day is the celebration of a runners’ long-term investment of putting ‘Miles in the bank,’ to be ready for a major withdraw on race day. You can’t fake a marathon, and there are penalties for not investing enough or making poor decisions, such as going out too fast. Investments, however, are never guaranteed, and at the last moment you may need to adjust your portfolio. Being fit for race day is one part rest, one part eating right, and one part staying away from anything that will strain a muscle or get you sick. Some of these are in your control, some are not. And some, unfortunately, get through all your defenses to greet you on race day. Thus was the case for my star pupil, Laser, at this year’s Lake Wobegon Trail Marathon.

It wasn’t until we made it all the way to say, oh, mile two, that I began to feel something was awry with Laser. He had gotten quite already, and there was something about his gait that seemed off. After six years of running alongside someone, it can be easy to notice even a slight change. I kept a close eye on my Garmin and decided to err on the side of an even slower than planned pace. If his allergy had been more than a reaction to pollen, be it a cold or virus, I didn’t want him to use any more energy than needed as he warmed-up during the first half-dozen miles or so. As we slid to 9:14 pace during the third and fourth miles, Laser made a couple of comments about “not feeling it yet”, and getting just a bit grumpy. It was at this point that he admitted to not sleeping well the past few days, having no appetite and in general feeling run down. He wouldn’t let himself think he was getting sick, it had to be allergies. Laser is one of the nicest guys I know, and one of the hardest on himself. He will gut out a training run on the toughest of days, be it 30 mile per hour snowstorms or 100’ summer heat. Laser won’t quit, and today, unbeknownst to us, would turn out to be his most arduous race-day test yet.

Local marathons with just a few hundred participants have a way of becoming a close-knit community of heartfelt supporters in a way larger events can’t replicate. It’s just more intimate, and you remember each other easier as you play leap frog throughout the race. Early on it was Bladder Pack gal and guy, Vegas gal, Gatorade’s in the shorts guy, and others. Around mile seven Laser and I noticed ‘Headache guy’. He was walking on the side of the trail, looking as if a migraine was getting the best of him, but he was still moving. The other runners were a good distraction, but they couldn’t hide the fact we had lost sight of the 3:57 pace group so soon. After testing the waters of Laser’s condition for seven miles, I finally asked him to take the lead at mile eight. The next 12 miles were to be his section of the race and we had to make a move. Our plan was for him to find his groove and get us to the 20-mile point, where I would then take the rein and run us in. He lasted about a half mile at nine-minute pace, slowed markedly, and began the internal fight against the mindset of defeat.

Bladder Pack Guy and Gal, nearing the 5 mile point.

Photo by CK Photography, Lake Wobegon Trail Marathon

Our celebration of race day was not going as planned. The culmination of Laser’s investments; the miles run, the early morning workouts, the change in eating habits, some tough intervals and the steady long runs were now just useless weights upon his shoulders. Where were the wings he had earned to carry him along to the finish? At mile nine we began the conversation that was staring back at us every moment we looked at our Garmin’s; What’s our new plan?

Once a burden is laden upon you, while it’s tough to carry, it can be even harder to accept the situation and let it fall away with your expectations. With Laser’s hard-nosed desire to at least break 4 hours, and our sub goal of crossing under 3:55, admitting we wouldn’t be close was becoming not only frustrating, but debilitating. The mind wanders to many places and is easily discouraged. You question everything about your training, your preparation and then complain about how unfair it is that you got sick just a couple of days ago. Yet amid all this we begin to see the signs of others struggling. We pass Headache guy again, this time around mile 12, not realizing he had passed us. Laser and I talk again about how badly that guy must be hurting, and it eases Laser’s burden slightly seeing someone else battling rough patches that seemed to come more frequently, and fiercely, as miles were added to our legs.

Continuing down the trail, we talk more seriously about letting go of our time goals. This reconciliation would take another few miles for Laser to agree that today would be a finish goal only, no time stamp to worry about. Just when I thought we were on the cusp of re-charting our way to the finish line, I realized my work was just beginning as our day came dangerously close to an abrupt end at the 14-mile point.

If you’ve ever experienced someone losing contact with their surroundings, especially during an athletic event, you know things can change in an instant. Tracking Laser, I realized he was showing signs of overall fatigue that went beyond being tired. He was unknowingly weaving from side to side on the trail, his comments were sparse and not on point to the topic. His pace was very erratic. He easily overheats, and I began pouring water on him to cool him down. “Let’s run to that shade spot and then walk again,” I suggested. He stopped the instant he hit the shade, and it was then I noticed his eyes wandering, his body swaying. “Laser, what day is it?” I asked. It caught him off guard and he faltered, both physically and emotionally. At just past the 14-mile point Laser was out of fuel, and mentally off course. He hesitated, then with stumbled verbiage found the words to give me the right answer, albeit with a raw, humbled emotion I had not seen from him before. It was a tough couple of minutes down in that valley of doubt many runners have experienced. Walls crash down and yet there’s always at least one path for a slow climb up. And that’s what he did. Laser became characteristically focused and stated undeniably that he would make it to the finish line, walking the whole way if that’s what it would take. He most certainly knew what day it was now!

Laser was back, but I let him know that I’d do all I could to get him off the course if he faltered as he had at mile 14. From that point on we walked when needed, he drank more fluids than he ever had, and downed extra gel (warm gel late in a race is not a runner’s first choice, but he did it) to keep himself hydrated and nourished. It was at this point he finally let the finishing time burden slide off his shoulders, giving him a better outlook on the day. It was what it was. We were burning the chart and setting sail with the wind, not against it. We talked to more runners as we repeatedly passed and got passed. We made time at the aid stations to re-fill his bottles and get some of the snacks they offered later in the race. We bantered with each other as if on a long training run.

Our discussion topics ranged from running to kids, to work, to life goals. Heck, we had plenty of time and at this point everything was on the table to talk about. It’s amazing how bare you can lay your soul on a long run with a good friend. We were cleansing our physical bodies mile after mile, and our emotional selves, topic after topic. That’s when Laser peeled back a whole lotta layers and laid out the core of his motivation. Growing up, when he had a tough task ahead or decided to go after a goal, he was told he’d never get it done, never accomplish anything, so don’t even try. The classic, “You’ll never amount to anything” rang in his ears and pierced his heart. He did his best to try and please a father that had little compassion, but it wasn’t until years later that Laser would figure out his father was the lost soul. After that epiphany, Laser worked for what he wanted until he got it, and he has applied the same mentality to running. Be it a tough training day, hard intervals, or long training runs, he would prove his self-worth and accomplish his goals. His words gave me insight to his overtraining and his disappointment when he didn’t meet self-imposed expectations. I realized he still carries a few splinters from the cross he bore as a youth, but don’t we all? If part of the ache in our hearts comes from a place so deep that, even to our physical detriment, we will do whatever it takes to finish, to succeed, to meet the goals that make us happy, how can we not keep running forward?

With ten miles to go, the comradery between runners at the five to six-hour pace grows stronger with each step. By this point you’ve seen each other a few times on the course, stopped at aid stations at the same time, and heard each other talk to running mates or supporters along the way. For example, the two sisters. One was running, and the other would stop at different points and provide encouragement. It was great to see, and gave us something to ask about when we ran alongside each other a couple of times.

Marathon Sister nearing the finish line.

Photo by CK Photography, Lake Wobegon Trail Marathon

There was also the 70-74 guy. We must have passed each other a half-dozen times, exchanging words of support to each other. When we asked how many marathons he had run, he said “This is my first one…today.” It gave us a good laugh!

70-74 Guy coming through the covered bridge.

Photo by CK Photography, Lake Wobegon Trail Marathon

With the wide variety of runners I was seeing, I began to realize this was my opportunity to take off my tunnel vision blinders and get a much broader view of what it takes to focus and fight through racing struggles. It’s not about the pace, breaking through comes from a much deeper place. I saw five-hour finishers focused on the task at hand in a way that would equal any race winner. Men and women, young and old. Heads up, and heads being barely lifted. Bodies moving with little sway, and bodies bent at odd angles. Here I was with my running brother as he fought for every step just to run his worst time ever, on the same course he had set his PR, and these folks were doing all they could to set a PR, or at least have a good day. These were the regular runners I wanted to hear about!

There are certain points along the Lake Wobegon Marathon course that stand out. One of them is the 18-mile point, located in the small town of Avon. It’s a landmark Laser enjoys for three reasons. First, it’s 18 miles! Yeah for that! Second, there are plenty of volunteers to help with filling water bottles and to hand out fluids. Third, it’s a very easy point of access to the course for spectators, so there’s always a nice cheering section about a half mile long. It’s a shot in the arm as you emerge from the isolation of the trail, get pumped up, and then head back out to the quiet and begin to concentrate on getting to 20. Laser had rebounded and was running fairly steady as we came into Avon. We took full advantage of the aid station and the volunteers were awesome. I spotted a sponge so I grabbed that to carry and occasionally cool Laser down, as the temp had snuck up to the low 70’s with no cloud cover. Runners were showing the classic signs of heat fatigue, and with Laser’s propensity to sweat on even the coldest of days, I would do all I could to rain water his way. The sponge, and for a while a small towel that I eventually handed off to another runner, would be in my possession to the finish.

Small victories are priceless in a marathon, and on this day, we’d take every one we could get. A couple of our best miles were from just before 19 to nearly 21. I had stopped to take a quick pee break, and as I came out I tagged along with a guy we had seen running earlier with his wife. Laser had continued running during my break, and as is his habit he would keep up a slightly faster pace until I caught him. It’s a game he plays when he trains. Laser dislikes stopping on runs, so if someone needs a quick break for the bathroom, or, heaven forbid we stop at a traffic signal, he continues on. Even in his exhausted state, there he was, trucking down the trail, totally focused, looking like he was just out on a regular training run. The guy I was running with told me his wife had run ahead of him. He said they were looking for a race to run together and although he was more of a sprinter and she a distance runner, they comprised and choose the Lake Wobegon Marathon. Smart husband. Over the course of a half mile or so we caught up to Laser. Sprint guy ran a few strides with us, more like shuffles, and then said he was going to try and catch up to his wife.

Sprinter Guy and Distance Gal nearing the finish line.

Photo by CK Photography, Lake Wobegon Trail Marathon

Laser was ready for another walk break, so we looked for some shade and walked toward a stretch just ahead. Grey Shirt guy, another of the leap frog group, passed us again. He was doing well, keeping his own pace, sharing encouraging words with us. His wife, Concordia gal, would meet him at most of the aid stations and easy access spots along the course, typical of what we saw all day long. There’s something about a marathon that brings out the best in spectators and fellow runners, especially during the later stages of the race. Seeing fresh faces and listening to the high spirits at the start, spectators that follow the race and continue their support are invaluable to a struggling runner. Spectators bear witness to the steady decline of both physical stature and emotional well-being that 26.2 miles heaps upon a participant. “Looking good” is great cheer for about eight miles, but after that it’s a small fib for at least the next ten. After that we know they are lying, but we not only forgive them, we hang on to the belief that maybe we really don’t look like wandering zombies searching for our next meal.

“It’s like running from the five-mile bench, Laser,” I said, referring to a landmark we use on one of our common routes. We had now passed the 21-mile marker and could picture the last few miles in a perspective he could envision. “We’re doing this!” I added.

“Oh, yeah, baby,” Laser replied, and we started running again.

It was right around this point that we noticed Headache guy again. He was just in front of us, walking. As we came up to him I asked him a simple question, “You want to run with us for a while?”

“Sure, I’ll give it a try.”

And that’s how we met the guy that blew the blinders completely off our tunnel vision. Yes, we had gone full circle with the race up to that point, and Laser had allowed himself to be comfortable with just finishing the marathon. We had started with solid expectations, sunk deep into the ravine of regret, and then clawed and climbed up to the road again, heading to the finish. We still had over four miles to go, and anything could have happened to Laser in that span. Thankfully, Don happened.

Don approaching mile five.

Photo by CK Photography, Lake Wobegon Trail Marathon

It was hot, Laser had been giving all he could for miles, and we still had, at our pace, 40 to 50 minutes to go. I had us pegged for a 5:30 finish at one point, but Laser was making up time and we’d be under that, for sure. We had seen Don struggling at various points in the race, and, wanting to get an idea of his plans for the next few miles, I asked him, “So, it looks like you’ve been having a tough day. Are you having migraines or allergies?”

If that’s all it had been.

That tunnel vision I had for racing my next marathon, that feeling of lust I get when trying to coax a few seconds from each mile I race, that disappointment I had after a good race that I wanted to be great? Yeah, I’ll be tossing that out with the garbage after running with Don for those last few miles. It’s not that he’s a saint, he’s just a guy that wants to run and race like he used to, but after a couple of recent concussions he’s had to let go of his burden of not being able to run after this race. And by this race, I mean his 60^th marathon. At age 43. Oh, and he won this event in 2011 with a finishing time of 2:48.

“Actually, it’s vertigo,” Don said.

The next couple of miles, even at 12-minute pace, flew by as we talked about his background. Ten years ago, he was 230 pounds of inactivity until his brother got him to sign up for a 10k. Although more of a walk, the running bug had begun to infect Don. Slowly the training miles piled up, and then the racing began. Within two years of running, Don had a 3:31 marathon to his credit. Nice debut! The time drops continued until 2011, when he won the Lake Wobegon Trail Marathon. Along the way he dove into the running community by leading pace groups at different distances, including the marathon, which helped him add to his finish total without stressing his body too much. He volunteered at events and mentored other runners. Here was a guy getting it done and giving back in a big way.

“I’ve had a couple of serious concussions in the past few years. The vertigo has made it tough to run.” Well, if you call headaches, dizziness, throwing up and falling down tough, yeah, I’d agree.

“Was that your wife helping you out at some of the aid stations?” I asked.

“No. I think she said she’s a nurse and she saw I wasn’t having such a good day and she just helped me out.” Her name turned out the be Diane, and she is a nurse. (Don would meet her via Facebook after the race). While watching the race, Diane saw Don was not doing well. Her instincts kicked in and she made sure his aid station stops included plenty of fluids. They had never met, but, as Laser and I have done, she made a bond with Don that will last many years.

As Don related his running background, Laser and I looked at each other as the realization that things can always be worse had materialized right in beside us. It was a wake-up call at just the right time for Laser. At somewhere between 23 and 24 miles Laser was running even lower on energy. His muscles were toast and only his sheer will was getting him from mile marker to mile marker. Hearing Don explain his challenges and then seeing him holding his head to stay on the course, and at one point falling to one knee, was more than what Laser needed to keep going. This wasn’t a race anymore, it was escorting a fellow runner for the last few miles of what may be his last marathon, if not his last race.

Not far after the 24-mile marker we stopped for a walk break. It may seem crazy to most, but these breaks were very necessary. Two women runners offered us a cup of ice and a Nunn tablet, and Don gained some much-needed electrolytes. The generosity of fellow runners and spectators never wavered! We drank up and then began running once more.

Ice Gals nearing the finish line.

Photo by CK Photography, Lake Wobegon Trail Marathon

My biggest challenge during the last few miles was to monitor my two co-runners. Laser was a little quieter and I knew he was in his zone, concentrating on getting to the finish. He was staying steady and only a couple of times did I need to pull him back on the trail, mainly when we were walking or getting water at an aid station. Same for Don, although he wobbled a bit more. If I had felt either one was in danger I would have immediately asked a fellow runner or spectator for help, but these guys were keeping hydrated, answering questions and staying alert. I knew they would make the finish safely, but they’d be totally spent.

“Hey, guys, there’s the 25-mile marker!” I said. “Let’s get there and then walk that shade part on the trail.” We crept up to the marker and began a short walk in the shade. I could nearly read their minds, knowing they had only a mile point two to go, their heads were already seeing the finish line.

“Let’s knock out the final mile without stopping,” Don said. “We can do this.”

“I’m in!” Laser replied.

We ran silently for most of the last mile, three abreast. The pace was slow enough to be able to make the last mile, but at a slightly faster pace than what we had been running…a little pride was breaking through as we made our way down the straight, flat stretch toward our destination.

About three-quarters of a mile out you can pick up the red finish arch. A half-mile out you can see the balloons and hear the crowd. Our steps fell yet a bit faster, our heads held a little higher. Laser and Don had waged a fierce battle on this day and they had full rights to run proudly in at 5:14.44.

Approaching the Finish Line; Stan Brouillard, Don Sullivan, Brian Siddons

Photo via CK Photography, Lake Wobegon Trail Marathon

Three steps over the finish line Don faded to the grass on the right and collapsed on all fours. Race staff, most of whom knew Don well, were there in a matter of seconds, and he was in the med-tent within a minute. I’ve never had vertigo but have seen people incapacitated from its effects. Don had resigned himself to walking the last five miles, yet he gutted it out, like the champion he is, and ran in with us. About 20 minutes later I found out from the race director that Don’s friends had taken him to the local hospital for an IV treatment to try and get the vertigo in line. Dang, that was one tough finish!

Don Sullivan gave everything he had to cross the finish line.

Photo via CK Photography, Lake Wobegon Trail Marathon

Laser had headed to the left side of the finish area, completely gassed from the race. His effort was clearly the most work I had ever seen him put out during a marathon. I told him how well he had done and what a great accomplishment today’s race had been. As we talked over the next half hour, I enjoyed hearing his description of how the race had turned into a very positive event. Laser’s empathy for the other runners was bursting from his heart, especially for Don and the struggles he had overcome and would face in the future. While not pleased with his own finishing time, Laser welcomed his place with the other back of the pack finishers that had dug deep and worked through the toughest of days not only physically, but had beat back the mental challenges they all faced. It was a tremendous boost to his confidence, and I was sure these feeling would grow and strengthen within him as we looked back on this day during future runs.

We sat and watched Grey Shirt guy finish, and 70-74 guy, too. Some of the other leap-froggers that had finished before us came by to see how we were doing, and we asked how their day ended up. Between the pizza, cookies, Gatorade and treats, the conversations were leading Laser and I to a great conclusion.

Grey Shirt Guy nearing the finish line.

Photo by CK Photography, Lake Wobegon Trail Marathon

This may have been one of our favorite marathons, ever. The multitude of mental battles, including Laser’s and Don’s, that had raged all around me during the event, right up to the final steps over the finish line, were just the scenarios I was looking for after reading Fitzgerald’s’ book. I had been looking with tunnel vision for a sharper mental edge and was quietly presented with that gift, and more, by runners so full of heart it was impossible not to become a fan of each and every one of them.

Suddenly, I was taken aback by the latest announcement over the finish line speakers. It was something I had never heard at a marathon.

“Less than two minutes to get in! Come on, runner!” As the race clock was counting down (or is it up?) to the six-hour cut-off time, the announcer let everyone know there was one runner coming down the trail that would be close to making the cut-off. But he’d have to earn it!

Hearing this, spectators began to fill in the finish chute area on both sides of the trail. Weary runners ambled over, the Girl Scouts from one of the last aid stations came with big smiles and cheers, as did others that had done volunteer work for the race that morning.

“Sixty seconds to go!” came the update.

With the long straight-away of the marathon trail, you could see that Last guy was doing his best to make the time cut, laying down the fastest pace he could muster. The crowd, although small, was doing their best ‘Here comes a winner!’ cheer for a guy they had never met. No matter, it’s what runners and friends of runners do. We support each other through thick and thin, on good days and not so good days.

Last Guy nearing the finish. I can see Stan's hand on the right side of the photo, right next to the blue bill of my hat.

Photo by CK Photography, Lake Wobegon Trail Marathon

As I was standing there, watching Last guy near the finish, (and eventually crossing the line with 48 seconds to spare) I catch sight of Laser. He had limped over to the finish area, pulled in by the drama unfolding before us, his hands clapping wildly and his voice cheering loudly, for a guy he didn’t know, but now, more than ever, certainly understands. My running brother had the marathon experience of his life today, and I couldn’t be more proud of him!

Optimistic About The Long Road Ahead

noreply@blogger.com (Brian James Siddons) — Thu, 09 Mar 2017 02:21:00 +0000

Optimistic About The Long Road Ahead

I’m forever an optimist. It’s how I choose to fuel each day with the passion that drives me toward discovery, fills my heart with joy, and in countless other ways turns a world of incredible potential into a daily endeavor to maximize a life that includes blessings of all kinds, thanks for so much and fulfillment in many small and big ways. Certainly, not every day is perfect, but every day has that potential.

I’m also a recreational long distance runner, and I feed off the same optimistic outlook to get me through my yearly marathon training seasons. Like life, not every run is a joy filled experience, some can be an outright grind to get through. More often than not, I still find things sunny side up. Sometimes it’s as simple as enjoying the beauty of an early morning run through Bunker Hills Park, or training with my running partners as we banter away during a Saturday morning long run.

I can’t pinpoint if the distance running brought me in line with being a more positive person, or if being optimistic by nature allowed me to work through the challenges of long distance training. I started running in 1972, so there’s no way I’d remember my ah-ha moment, if in fact there was one. I can say, after all these years, and most certainly in the political and opinion charged world we live in, it’s never been more important to allow myself the opportunity to make time to be physically active and thus, retain a positive attitude.

It can be tough to keep moving forward and stay focused. From the time our brainwaves kick start our minds into gear each morning, right up until our eyelids close shop for the day, we are barraged with hundreds and hundreds of decisions to make. From the simple choice of breakfast food, to the demands of 65 mile per hour freeway maneuvers, to how we are going to interact, and react, to the people and situations that come our way.

On marathon race day, the journey begins with very high hopes. You hear plenty of chatter and see lots of hopeful faces those first few miles. Right up until reality sets in and runners begin to find out if they are truly prepared for the race. We all struggle during a marathon, albeit at different points along the course, even losing sight of our goals, but we dig deep within ourselves and push through those tough miles, finding a way to get back on pace. It can be easy to give in, but it’s devastating to give up.

Just like the final, arduous six miles of a marathon, pushing through the early months of the new administration won’t be easy. It will be a struggle to find our way, at first, and while not everyone will be able to step up and become leaders in our communities, each of us can take a stand up for something we believe in. We can cheer for someone making a difference, and we can find ways to provide support to those in our society working to make a difference along the paths of freedom, equality and hope.

The optimism I have for our nation is buoyed by the sheer volume of Americans from all walks of life that are participating in political and social processes. People are making time to get involved! Issues are being discussed, conversations are taking place and our nation is being stoked by millions of people that had previously been standing on the sidelines!

Now is the time to push through the tough miles and challenge issues, debate opposing views and be strong enough to know when to keep fighting, and compassionate enough to know when it’s best to compromise. Without constant pressure, a lump of carbon remains hard and dark. We need to keep up the pressure on our local, regional and national politicians so we can all shine brighter.

It will be a grind, at times, to keep fighting the fight, but if you are fed by the desire to see people succeed in a free and supportive country, if you know in your heart that we need to provide for the homeless and nurture the helpless, if your compassion brings a connection to make the lonely feel wanted, if your soul feels the call to mend the broken and counsel the lost, if your spirit tells you to spread the word that our natural resources must be treated like the unique and finite entities they are, then you must get involved. Like the runner that gets up every morning to build their stamina, you must renew your commitment to your passion and to your goals each day. You must move forward, however much, or little, that day will bring. It is still moving forward, it is still making a difference. Unless we all choose to do so, we are not gaining ground, and we are not building a better country for the future. We are merely running in place and we will find our future selves no nearer to the finish line, no nearer to our goals. Push yourself and in turn you will pull others along with you to a brighter future.

Sensei Sid - 5 Guidelines for Marathon Training

noreply@blogger.com (Brian James Siddons) — Mon, 20 Feb 2017 00:25:00 +0000

1. The Long Run, which is your longest run on the week, normally on a Saturday or Sunday, is, pace wise, classified as a recovery run.

In and of itself, a long run of 12 miles or more should also be considered one of your three weekly effort runs due to the distance, and due to the time on your legs. Don’t overlook the fact a long run, at any pace, is affected by your workouts earlier in the week, and will have a direct effect on your runs of the following week. A long run can be the building block of a great foundation for your training, or, if not monitored with diligence, it can become the straw that will break the camels’ back. Long runs build your foundation when you train at a pace that won’t leave you feeling like you couldn’t run another step. Enjoy what you have worked up to during the week by making your long run more pleasant than painful, and leave the heavy breathing for your two other effort days.

2. Earn your training paces.

You are where you are, and training at too fast of a pace, whether it be on an easy day or at the track doing intervals, does nothing but set you up for reaching a plateau instead of a peak, or worse yet, incurring an injury. Establish your training paces for the coming months by using recent racing times or time-trials, and err on the side of slower pacing. Once you have set your pace times, do not run your workouts faster until you have re-established training paces with results from at least two recent races. Most distance runners feel they can run faster in training, and many feel they must. However, maximizing yourself too frequently over a 12 to 18 week training season will leave you flat and unfulfilled during your racing season. Just when you need to really sharpen your fitness level, you’ll be as dull as a chewed up number 2 pencil, and all the grinding you try will not get you to your potential.

3. Rest and recovery must be included in every training program.

Training is an awesome adventure. Once you have reached a decent fitness level, you begin to relish a great workout to see what you can do. You push, you compete, you push some more. There are two important points to consider while in the midst of a training season. A: Don’t leave your best efforts in workouts…save something for race day. B: Just because you can, doesn’t mean you should…feeling good three days in a row doesn’t mean you should burn the workout. Both of these points provide insight into how easy it is to overdo training, and be left behind the following weeks when everyone else is stepping up to the next level. Rest and recovery for some may be three days off a week, for others it may be an easy run in the morning, with no days off during the week. Find your balance and allow yourself the important elements of rest and recovery, each and every week.

4. Think in terms of months and years, not weeks and months.

Just like the quick fix of losing ten pounds in two weeks won’t last, using a 12 week marathon training program will deter many from trying one again. For a beginner, depending on age and current fitness level, a two year minimum is suggested to properly run a marathon. Even for veteran marathoners, running two quality races a year is about max. Between the base building, hill training, tempo and speed workouts, and post-race recovery, a proper program can take six months. Sure, someone in shape can ramp up their distance training 12 weeks out and compete in a marathon, but even they are looking long term in training. Foundations of running fitness are layered, season upon season, year upon year, decade upon decade. New runners get excited and schedule races like they are setting up appointments at work. It takes a few years, but if a runner continues to train, they see that a year is broken up into cycles, and you can’t race and improve without down times and off-seasons. The classic line is, “I’ve been running three marathons a year for the past two years, and I can’t get my times down.” Well, maybe if you didn’t run three marathons a year, your body would perform better. It’s a long run, and with the proper respect for the distance you can age and improve!

5. Patience. Trust. Fortitude. Courage.

      These are the four parts of any distance race, especially a marathon. First, you must have the Patience of a Tibetan Buddhist working on a mandala sand painting to hold back during the first five to seven miles of the race. Your body and mind will tell you to run like the wind from the second you cross the starting line, “You feel great, go for it! Today is your day!” You cannot give in to this temptation. Rather, you must Trust your training and “Stick to the Plan!” You’ve put the miles into the bank, and today you must withdraw your hard work according to your pre-race plan. Cash in too early and you’ll gain no dividends at the finish line. Come crunch time, when everyone around you seems to look like zombies, wandering aimlessly across the road, and I’m not talking about the spectators here, you’ll be glad you held back and trusted in your plan. Now, of course, it’s time to put on your game face and call up all the Fortitude you can muster to maintain pace for the toughest part of the race. It’s usually miles 15 to 21 when you need to fight the urge to give in or dial back your efforts, but you must keep focused and battle through. Once you have a 10k or less to go, you'll know when it’s go time. You may now allow yourself the Courage it takes to succeed. Yes, it’s not easy to handle success, especially when you have put yourself out in front of family and friends, and have committed time and sweat into making this race count. Courage, it’s about finding your path to break through barriers that have held you back in the past, and gaining new experiences for the future. Let go and discover not only how fast you can run, but how brave you are willing to let yourself be!


     Sensei Sid...2.19.2017

New Balance Vongo Shoe Review

noreply@blogger.com (Brian James Siddons) — Sun, 26 Jun 2016 00:08:00 +0000

Shoe Review: New Balance Vongo

June 25, 2016

Brian J. Siddons

For those of us that have spent decades enjoying the passion of running, it's a blessing to have a training shoe that remains fairly constant over a period of years. Sure, tweaks happen, but a shoe that provides the basics for training and racing and is off the radar in regards to running ailments is a gold medal winner in my log book. There are plenty of non-shoe, running-related issues to worry about for those of us over 50, and shoes, while still a joy to take out on a maiden voyage, are something I prefer to keep status quo.

Don't get me wrong, I enjoy trying on a few different styles at my local running shoe stores when it's time to replace a pair and the urge for a new model rises up, although I continue to slip back into a proven shoe for me...albeit a new colorway or with slight upgrades to 'this years model'. And, I love reading about the younger runners' experiments with a different shoe at the drop of a hat, usually with no consequences to their training or racing regime. Young, skinny and fleet of foot…those were the days.

After years of bouncing from Nimbus to Cumulus with a Ride or Triumph thrown in for good measure, I recently found myself trying to avoid the obvious…it was time for a new brand and possibly a new midsole, a la mild stability. Certain ailments had become chronic and I was betting a different brand could be the best chance for a slight gait change and, hopefully, a reduction in the muscle pains that were keeping me from feeling ~~100%~~ ~~90%~~ 85% healthy. Yes, I'll settle for 85% these days as there is always 'something' nagging a runner.

I first tried the asics 2000 for a couple of weeks, however I found it too rigid and knew I had to move on. Making a visit to TC Running Company in Maple Grove, MN, to consult my friend and running shoe guru Dan Steinbrecher, I was optimistic his expertise and the stores' vast footwear selection would be my road to redemption. It had been too long of trying to do extra stretches, flailing on the foam roller and bringing an ice pad to work every day. Thankfully, Dan came through as he normally does and I have a new shoe in my life… Vongo!

This might be a good time to mention that my final shoe conversion took place three weeks and three days before my 'time trial' summer marathon. I had been gearing up to run Grandma's Marathon on June 18, and the drive to resolve some hamstring and IT band issues was too strong to wait. Call it crazy or crafty, I was going to make a change and pay no mind that it was just 24 days until I ran my marathon test to see how the spring training had gone so I could tweak it for my hopeful BQ race in October. Something had to change and I was pinning my hopes on a laced up foot-wrap of nylon, eva and rubber.

With no time to lose, I put in a couple of 'how they feeling' eight milers…Great! was my initial reply to myself. ( Hey, its gets quiet on long runs and I've gotta talk to someone. ) So, as I was saying to myself…Shoes feel great, nothing odd going on with my gait, that's about all I can ask for. The big test came on my third run in the shoes that Saturday with the 18 miler we had planned.

What I noticed first and foremost with the Vongo, was the overall sleekness of the shoe. Gone was the bulky feel of the Nimbus and in its place was a shoe that felt light without giving up too much cushioning. Second, the response of the shoe…which I find to be a relative term due to an individuals pace…was Goldilocks perfect. Not too mushy, not too firm. What surprised me most was how my initial thought of the shoe not having enough cushioning for long runs was proved incorrect. There was plenty, and without any added midsole materials the foot plant and propulsion through the gait cycle felt very natural. My feet are slightly on the wide side, but the Vongo fit very well. The new stitched uppers on running shoes are a wonderful advancement for fit.

The shoe is billed as 'Mild Stability'. Not sure what that means in regards to how it's implemented into the midsole, but it works. My neutral shoes had let me pronate just a bit too much, and the Vongo keeps that in check without feeling too controlling, or more importantly for me, too rigid. I'd describe it as a neutral shoe feel with a guidance assist that gently allows your foot to move forward instead of rolling inward.

Over the next two weeks I was getting in 6 to 10 mile runs during the week at varying paces. The shoes were feeling better and better. Slow runs, pace runs, LSD runs, I was not only confident the shoes would do well on race day, but my muscle issues had started to fade. The shoe was fitting my mileage load and my gait, and that's a great combination! I even had the chance to run an easy 2 and a half hour trail run the week before the marathon, and the outsoles were fine. They collected a few small grains, and were fine on some wet rocks at a creek crossing. The mud, now that was a mess. These treads are not made for mud. Thankfully it was only a couple of steps.

Race week included just three easy runs, however the Vongo's were no longer a concern for me. I had put in 113 miles on them and with an additional 19 miles before the marathon I'd have 132 miles pre-race. The soles, however, looked like I had at least 200 on them. It's the only part of the shoe I'm unhappy with. I'd love it if New Balance added a high density plug at the heel for those of us that heel strike so we can get more miles in our shoes before we start cutting into the midsole. I'd gladly take the added weight for more miles out of my shoes.

Race day was a warm 68' with humidity at the starting line. My two friends and I started conservatively, and it paid off later. The Vongo's handled the heat just fine. Plenty of ventilation to keep my feet cool, good traction on the warm and smooth asphalt roads and no blisters from the sockliner. A few parts of the road were fairly crowned, and the mild stability performed well. No issues with rolling, so the lateral side of my lower right leg, which had been bothering me due to my previous neutral shoes, didn't even send out a twinge of discomfort. Hips and hammies also felt fine, having healed up a bit in the last three weeks. The only malady I noticed, and it was after the run while I was wading in Lake Superior with other runners, were the small blisters on my second toe on each foot. Didn't notice them during the race at all, so I would image they came on late.

While the Vongo is not a panacea for my nagging pains and strains, I give this shoe credit for fitting my gait better than the neutral or stability shoes I had been wearing and providing a cushioned yet slightly stable platform to run on. I couldn't be happier with the results of my training in these shoes and would suggest to runners looking for a shoe that feels light, yet provides plenty of cushioning and a helpful splash of stability, to give the Vongo a try.

Brian J. Siddons has been running, off and on, since 1972. Currently a 3:44.51 marathoner ( Grandma's 2016 ), he loves to write fiction ( you can find his novel at www.BrianJamesSiddons.com ) and does freelance work for a local newspaper. Here's a link to a story about Father's Day. http://abcnewspapers.com/2016/06/19/talking-nature-time-spent-together-best-fathers-day-gift/

Only a few more days to earn your Winter Stripes!

noreply@blogger.com (Brian James Siddons) — Tue, 12 Apr 2016 03:00:00 +0000

     Admit it, you love walking into work knowing your morning run mileage is more than 95% of your network will run in a week. You stay humble, because you also know your running can be knocked back with the simple twist of a knee or the hyper-extension of a hamstring.

     At this time of year, as dawn breaks a few minutes earlier each morning, and the sun lingers longer in the evening sky, we are anxious for the days of shirts and shorts as our only running gear, and yet we are melancholy as we peel off the winter hat, tights and windbreaker for what may be the last run in our arsenal of layered, cold weather, tech gear running.

     It isn't that we're going to miss the extra fifteen minutes of gearing up for a six mile run, or doing loads of laundry each week, or trying to remember to keep enough batteries stocked for our headlamps. What we will miss most is sharing the roads and trails with just the few other hardy souls that braved the dark side of the calendar. Walkers, bikers, and runners, of course, that got out early or snuck in a late workout when everyone else was sleeping in or safely striding or cycling indoors.

   Each year, by late spring, we feel we've earned our stripes. It's a tough battle to round into the month of May in a decent fitness level and at a manageable weight, ready for some serious summer training and maybe, if all goes as planned, a fall marathon to race. After years, and for some, decades, the stripes earned are tattooed in place and visible by other winter warriors. You can tell by late April when someone's weathered the winter. There's a comfort to their gait, a look of confidence in their face and a glint in their eyes that this just might be the year they hit their goals.

   This summer, as you pick up the tempo on Tuesdays and Thursdays, and extend your miles for your long run on the weekend, keep those winter days in the back of your mind. Yes, your trails and roads will be filled with the summer striders, causing you to veer and adjust much more often that you'd like, but without the good-weather fitness fanatics, our winter wouldn't be worth talking about during workouts.

   Not that we'd brag about our off season hardships to each other...runners never do that. We stay humble, encourage the newbies and the sun worshipers, and we move on. Faster, leaner and more focused than the previous summer.

Spring Marathoner Runners - Top Ten Training and Race Day Do's and Don'ts

noreply@blogger.com (Brian James Siddons) — Wed, 30 Mar 2016 02:41:00 +0000

Spring Marathoner Runners - Top Ten Training and Race Day Do's and Don'ts

It's that time of year again! Soon, the crowds will be massed and the voices will be cheering! No, I'm not talking about the next Presidential primary, this is something much more intense! It's spring marathon season!

As we emerge from our winter slumber of lumbering miles and bouts with cold weather, head colds and, well, just way too much cold stuff, spring is here and we are dreaming of that one line that reels us back every time we step over it: The finish line!

Parks are now being populated with runners, walkers, hikers and bikers that have dug out shoes and sprockets. Asphalt trails are filled and flowing like the avian flyways of Nebraska's wetlands. People are out and runners are gobbling up the miles, gearing their training for what may be their very first marathon, or one in a string of 26.2 jaunts that may date back years, if not decades.

As the excitement builds, it's easy to get caught up in the chase for the race! Newbies and veterans will be reminded time and again of the many pitfalls that we all must maneuver as we train for and compete on race day, in hopes that some of that advice will stick in our heads and rescue us from our race day self. Marathon day, we can be our own worst enemy!

In my upcoming book, "The Marathon - Stick to the Plan!", I include a variety of tips for marathon training and racing, in much more detail than I will include in this article. As you prepare for your adventure, I hope these ten tips will be of help to you. Good luck, and feel free to contact me with any questions on training and racing. If I can't answer your question, I'll do my best to find someone that can!

Marathon Tip #1

When something unexpected happens; Don't Freak Out!

Something unexpected will happen on race day. You may nearly run over a deer on your way to the start, or you may have forgotten to charge your watch battery. No matter what happens, the bottom line is you are prepared and ready to run when the gun goes off. You can control your running, everything else is out of your hands and you'll do best by letting it go. Smile, you've got a marathon to run!

Marathon Tip #2

If you can't talk on a long run; Slow down!

Training runs should be 70% enjoyable. If you want to bust a gut the last 30% of your workout, great. But for most, a long run is a hard day in and of itself. Pushing hard the last part of a long run makes it a double workout, and most of us end up getting injured or not fully recovered for our next hard day. Then we get injured. Keep within yourself on long runs and you will enjoy the benefits for the rest of the week.

Marathon Tip #3

It's a marathon; Be patient!

You'll hear voices at the start of your race. An angel will say, "Slow down the first few miles until you think it's too slow, then slow down a little more." A devil will tell you, "Don't you feel great? This is your day, don't hold back, you got this!" Of course, those two are nowhere to be found at the finish line! You need to manage your pace as you did during training, but always err on the side of being conservative.

Marathon Tip #4

You don't know what you don't know!

You'll be able to explain this to yourself after your first marathon.

Marathon Tip #5

Miles in the bank!

You are the biggest and most important investor in your training. Only you can put "Miles in the bank." by training when you need to, and staying true to your schedule. Without that investment, race day will cost you more time than you want to spend. Invest early and often!

Marathon Tip #6

It's not if you're going to run, but when you're going to run!

You signed up, now you train. If you don't crave the run, you may as well tear up your bib number. It's a gift to be able to run, and even though you don't need to run every day, look at as time you get to run, not time that you have to run. You always feel better after a run!

Marathon Tip #7

Buddy up!

Having friends to run with does two things. First, it gets us out to run more often, and two, sharing our running experiences is never better than when it's with someone that knows all about our own struggles. The more often you can train with someone, the more often you will run, the better your workouts will be and of course your social skills will be vastly improved by saying things like fartlek, tempo and puking my guts out.

Marathon Tip #8

Great gear leads to great running!

Stay comfortable! Good socks, clothing that fits well, versatile hydration systems, sunglasses, the list of running gear goes on and on. Test your gear throughout the training season and find out what works best for you. Don't become a pack mule, but make sure to explore all the creature comforts available.

Marathon Tip #9

If the shoe fits, wear it!

All runners get jacked up over new shoes, and why wouldn't we? New shoes are so cool, look great and feel awesome! But, as we dial in over time what works best for us, we do need to admit that even though the shoe that works best for me isn't my first choice, we will promise not to change footwear just because we're bored with the same model. Stay with what works, it's one less way to get injured!

Marathon Tip #10

Race Day is Not the Day to Try Anything New!

Yep, that pretty much sums it up...Stick to the Plan!

Just when things were going so well...

noreply@blogger.com (Brian James Siddons) — Fri, 26 Feb 2016 03:40:00 +0000

At my age, running is measured in decades, so I've got that going for me.

Setbacks that last a few weeks, or a couple of months, don't cripple a competitive season for me as it would a younger runner. Seasons are measured in years, not weeks or months. The cumulative effect of training from year to year is my friend, and I've embraced the fact that life throws curves, sliders and knuckle balls just when you're feeling the groove and crushing down-the-pipe fastballs.

It's not that things get in the way of running, there's always time for a few miles each day. My heart is comforted knowing that the ups and downs of training are as natural as the hills we encounter on our favorite trail run.

Last year was a great example. It started with a nice base that culminated with a 15k trail race in early spring. Late spring brought on tempo, speedwork and endurance runs, geared toward racing some shorter distances. My brother, Al, finally got me into a couple of track races, something I hadn't done in over 40 years, and I loved it. He and I ran a 5k on the track and it's something I'll remember for a long time. I finished the summer season with a hard 5k road race and figured I'd sneak in a couple more road races to end the calendar year.

Standing at the plate, ready to swing; sinker, slider, curve...I've struck out and find myself walking back to the dugout.Or in my case, the freezer for an ice pack.

The year of more intense training caught up with me in early fall, before I could race again, and I realized it was time to ease up for the year. After a couple of months trying to run through the nagging hamstring and leg stress, I finally took three weeks completely off from running. It was tough to do, but my long term goals favored a complete recovery, even if it took months. There's nothing worse than coming back from an injury too soon and having to start recovery all over again. It was worth the time, although a struggle, and I finally was able to leave the ice pack and extra stretching behind. The new year was upon us, a fresh start!

With the mild winter we've been having, the opportunity to get in more training runs has been ample. We've been spoiled, and over the past few weeks that feeling of turning fastballs into line-drives returned. The Yin was great, but of course the Yang streaked into the gap.

So now it's cold season and I'm back in the dugout for a week. Not sleeping much, congested, coughing, you know the drill. Sure, it's a first world problem that's pales in comparison to the daily struggles of many, and I'm fine with a few days off. Like I said, I'm looking long term. Not that I have lots of decades left, but some time off is a small price to pay for something that enhances my overall life with so many positive aspects.

I'll be back at the plate in no time, just in time for spring training!

Perfect Winter Day to Run

noreply@blogger.com (Brian James Siddons) — Sat, 29 Nov 2014 14:09:00 +0000

     I know winter has not officially arrived, but today was as nice a winter run as can be.
Our feet were cushioned by two inches of fresh snow that had become stable enough to keep a decent pace without fear of slipping. The sky was clearing as we ran, the sun chasing dusk to the west with pink rays of morning light bouncing off the one stretch of clouds to the north. As we made our way along the path in the wooded park, the beauty of the morning kept getting better. No wind, just the breeze of cold air as we ran. The air temp was a balmy 25', just right for a pair of tights and a couple of layers up top, only slightly bound by polyester.
     As the three of us ran we had many moments of silence. One mark of a good running group is the ability to run as if alone, absorbing the surrounds, letting your mind wander, enjoying your personal run and at the same time silently sharing the experience with others.
     I love winter running. It's such a difference from my younger days of running along the traffic filled streets of Orange County, CA. I appreciate every run, every step. There's something about a winter run that breaths freshness, new life, a clean slate. It helps us slow down and enjoy the moment and recover. Rather than a time to hibernate, winter brings the chance to renew and refresh. A bright morning with friends that cleanses the spirit and prepares us not only for the day, but for the spring to come.
     As I head into winter, I do so with the promise to myself I will take time to reflect and revive my mind, my spirit, my body. Embrace the season and you, too, will enjoy all that winter has to offer.

Chasing Autumn

noreply@blogger.com (Brian James Siddons) — Sat, 25 Oct 2014 11:32:00 +0000

     It's late October, and here in Minnesota autumn continues to impress. The beauty of this years fall colors has been captured on everyones cell phone. Trees bursting with hues of red, gold and orange, showing off natures foliage fireworks display. We talk about the weather in conversation, mostly in awe, also in humbled terms after last winters record setting beat down.
   As I leave work around the five o'clock hour, I find myself smiling on the walk to my mini van. Last night it was the gentle warm breeze against my face, coupled with the clear sky overhead. I want to walk home and soak in this incredible gift of 68' degrees and save it in my memory bank for a mental withdraw come February. I think about getting up early the next morning for a run with J'net and Dave, and that we'll be in shorts and a light long sleeve shirt, maybe thin gloves, maybe not. I become anxious with visions of us running through Bunker Hills Park, headlamps on, chatting excitedly about no subject in particular as we did yesterday morning, all because of autumns extended graciousness. We are giddy.
   We are chasing autumn!
   Knowing the power of winter cannot be stopped, even a tempered season this year will give us pause each time the snow and cold blows through. Will it be a foot of snow? Will we endure another Polar vortex, or three? We are in post-traumatic-winter mode, each hint of cold weather jarring our memories of last year as if the winter had just ended. It's way too soon for cold, we pray. Please, just a dusting at Christmas will be a soon enough start to snow season! We push thoughts of winter as far back into our head as we can, and acknowledge that if our current weather was a stock, we'd price it like Berkshire Hathaway!
   I know Minnesota weather stock will not always be like BH. As beautiful as a spring run around Lake Harriet can be, or a trail run in Jay Cooke State Park, and even as much as I love a winter run after a few inches of snow, our weather will hit bottom for a while and it's value will be more like BS.
   That's why I'm waking up at five in the morning to run. As often as possible. I can't get enough and I'll overload in hopes of somehow storing up for winter. I figure the shudder I feel thinking of last winter can be replaced with a warm fuzzy come January as I think of this October. There is even talk of a warm November to follow this incredible month. That would put us on overdrive! And I'm all for it!
   I'm chasing autumn!

Let's try this prediction thing again.

noreply@blogger.com (Brian James Siddons) — Tue, 11 Feb 2014 20:03:00 +0000

Stravinsky: Rite of Spring

     About this time last year ( February 5th ) I was yearning for spring. I won't take credit for the extended wait, but I did post ( Winter is Half-Dead! ) that I thought we were just a few weeks away from mild running weather. Little did I know my wife Jeanette and I, along with our good friend Stan and a few hundred others would be running in sleet and snow in mid May during part of the Lake Wobegon Marathon.
     No such prediction this year. In fact I'm kind of hoping for a bit more winter weather, not Arctic, just a few more days of regular cold stuff. You see, I don't feel like I've earned my winter stripes yet.
     With the Polar Vortex keeping me in more than out this winter, it's hard to look at my calendar and see all the DNR days. No treadmill, no gym membership, it's run outside or try and get in some sit-ups and push-ups, maybe a few minutes on the bike stand. Ugh!
     It wasn't too bad at first. I have had a pretty full running schedule the past few years and hadn't taken a real break from running so the first two weeks of the year, which happened to coincide with super frigid weather, made for a nice respite. Unfortunately there really wasn't much of shot at just jumping back into training after my break, being that most days were single digit temps at best. And forget about adding in the windchill, that made it seem just obscene outside.
     Still, I knew there were runners out there, more headstrong than I, more crazy for sure. I had found my limit and now it screams back at me on my running log. I'm not going to beat myself up about it, but I want to spend a few more days on the snow packed trails earning the right to run on dry roads and soak in the warm days that eventually will come to us here in Minnesota.
     I owe my fellow runners that much, the ones that have piled on the miles outside during this nasty stretch and the others like myself that have gone out when we could. We don't want to feel like we sat back and waited for 'nice' weather, we need to feel like we've broken through the tough days as part of the runners code.
     In 1912 Igor Stravinsky penned his famous 'Rite of Spring'. Since you've got plenty of indoor time take a few minutes to listen to this incredible work.
     And no matter how many days you ran outside this winter, so far, take pride in the fact that you've earned the right to enjoy this coming spring. Big time!
     .

Running changes on the low horizon

noreply@blogger.com (Brian James Siddons) — Tue, 19 Nov 2013 04:13:00 +0000

     It's fall, for sure. Walking out from work it was nearly dark, another week and it should be totally dark around 4:45 or so. Yucky.
     Weird that it's the same time of day as just 60 days ago and yet the mental challenge of getting out for an early or late run is so much tougher now. But as always, it's well worth it. We'll have different runs due to the weather and darkness, slower, more bundled up, more laundry to do! Yet, we continue on through the fall in preparation for a couple of very cold winter months.
   What keeps me going is the freshness of each and every day, the newness of a cold crisp morning with stars shining and creatures treading quietly through the woods where we run. It's a very different running-scape versus our warm weather months, some days the snow covered park is so strikingly beautiful if feels as if I've run to the mountains of the Sierra Nevada or the Big Sky lands of Montana.
   Although it's known as the off season for most distance runners, we still need to keep up our routines to maintain as much of the fitness we've worked so hard to gain throughout the spring and summer. Runs will be slower, but sometimes longer. Intervals and tempo runs will be less frequent but on those days we get a dry trail and a warm day we'll do our best to get in a quicker paced training session.
   As I get ready for sleep I know the alarm will help me rise and meet my training partner Dave at 5:30 am, but I look past the darkness and know I'll enjoy a great start to the day. I hope your runs over the next few months are just as rewarding.

Morning rain

noreply@blogger.com (Brian James Siddons) — Thu, 17 Oct 2013 02:21:00 +0000

One ear, uncovered, receives the echos that have filtered through...
the wet, colonial blue siding,
the window of double pane strength,
the lowly flowered curtain.

Silent, miniature water bombs explode onto the cedar plank deck.
Pure h2o droplets splash into the still uncovered above ground pool.
Streams of liquid life pour off the roof and waterfall onto river rock.
My bedroom is alive with the vibrato of natures great gift of rain.

Can't think, must act without stopping to ponder the options.
Down the stairs, using the glow from my cell phone to light each step.
Labrador following, ready for food, cat clawing the table post, stretching herself awake.
I lumber to the mudroom after a pitstop, thankful for a fresh set of togs.

It's fall, and cold mornings are made even less pleasant by the late arrival of the sunrise.
As I finish getting ready, the light from a single room leaks into the now quiet kitchen.
I see by the clock more time has slipped by than I had planned.
I will trade back the minutes by eating breakfast at work today.

The cold air hits me first, with hints of suburbia tossed into the wind.
Rain soaked lawn, pollen being blasted off the leaves, oil from the roads.
The morning mixture fills my nostrils, the cold air puffs into my eyes.
I am filled with freshness, ready for my run.

The rain applauds as I step away from the porch and head down the street.

To BQ, but not be at Boston.

noreply@blogger.com (Brian James Siddons) — Thu, 26 Sep 2013 02:53:00 +0000

     13, 108...that's my Boston Qualifier marathon in seconds. Sure, it's spread out over 3 hours, 38 minutes and 28 seconds along a trail that was 26.2 miles long, but that's still a lot of seconds.
     Turns out that my first BQ was six seconds too many.
     It started out in 2008 at the Medtronic Twin Cities Marathon. I was in great shape, for me that is. Shooting for a finishing time of 3:35.59 or less, my recent 20 miler and a couple of tune up 5k's said this was a very doable time. Funny how so many things can crop up on race day.
     As the race was about to start I realized the guy that passed my at mile 18 in the 20 miler was standing a couple feet away. We talked about goals and I thought I could just pace behind him for a while and see how it goes. Feeling good, as most of us do at the start, I kept within 50 yards or so for the first mile. Bad move, I was a minute ahead of pace! Ugh, what was he doing running so fast? I backed off and as I tried to regroup I noticed I had been pulling my running shorts up the whole time. What the heck? Oh, the weight of the five gel packs I had pinned to my waistband was pulling them down. So there I am, running too fast, holding the drawstring with one hand, trying to slow my pace down. Not a good sight.
     At mile 7 my family saw me run by and I looked good. Friend Kevin, too, thought I looked great. And I did, it was only mile 7 for goodness sake. Just a mile before the deluge. Yep, big 'ol rain drops began to pelt the runners. Nice and cold, too. Holy crap, it rained for miles and my quads began to fill not with water but a heavy, wet cement. The rest of my now numbing body slowly chilled to the core. Passing family and friends around the half way point they knew something was up, how could it not be? Cold, wet, rain....glossy eyed runner with a slight pink hue. Uh, oh, this was going to be a long second half.
   At 22 miles my son Spencer (and the rest of my family) saw how bad I looked and he jumped in and gave me some encouragement, I'm sure it was tough to watch me struggle in. About a half mile from the finish I saw Kevin standing on the side of the course. I caught sight of him just after he saw me, and he was turned about half way round, trying not to stare at the carnage that was my running gait. Looking back we laugh and joke about the car crash that I was, how he tried not to look but there was that macabre sense of just having to look, at least a bit, and my marathon transformation from fleet of foot to flat on my face was too much to miss watching as I rounded the last corner to the finish.
   The good news was that even after a terrible race day, I was less than six minutes off my BQ, coming in at 3:42.12. I would get it next time. Or so I thought!
   MTCM 2011 seemed to be another great day, my friend Bryan was going to run with me, and as we lined up with the 3:40 pace group we were determined to hang with them til 20, then take off for the last 10k. With the way Boston entries go, I would be able to race just after turning 55, so my BQ, even with the recent reduction of 5:59 per age group, was now 3:40.00. It went fine until mile five, that was when the pacer said, "I'm going to the bathroom." We never saw him again. The group of 15 or so runners began to chatter about the pacer, then freak out, then disperse into the crowd. Bryan nor I had a pace band, just a regular watch to check our miles. We ran too fast, then too slow, and finally around mile 16 we were doing great. At 21 it began to sink in, the hills were dragging me down and the faster miles mid race were coming back to haunt me. It was my own fault for not preparing for pace, and at 23 it was cement legs all over again. Bryan tried to talk and motivate me the last few miles, but it was not to be. Dragging across the finish line in 3:42.21, nearly identical to the last marathon, but this time only 2 minutes off. I would strike again another day.
   Attempt three for my BQ was planned for Grandma's Marathon, 2012. My training partner Dave was going to run with me, and I knew by our training he would be there the whole way. My wife J'net was going to run with our other training partner, Stan and they would also be running strong. Bryan was on his own, hoping for a sub 3:00.
   Too bad the weather was 70' and very humid at the start, otherwise it would have been a beautiful day! Ugh, at 8 miles in I said to Dave, "Hey, I'm sweating! It's way too early to be sweating, Dave!" It got ugly early. At mile 11 Dave pulled over to take a leak, and waited in line, doh! He spent two miles racing to catch up, and never recovered. It didn't matter, I was nearing wipe out by humidity and the last 8 miles loomed like a hard ride across pavement towards exhaustion. At 16 I had pulled ahead of Dave and was running in a coma when I happened to hear my name called. It was Bryan, he had dropped out at 16 miles due to not feeling well. About a mile later he pulled up along side and filled me in on what happened. He was feeling better and when he saw me, then Dave go by he jumped back into the race. He tried to make jokes, but I would have nothing to do with it. I'm sure I sounded like a jerk, "Hey, I really can't talk right now, I'm just trying to keep running." He ran a few more strides and then said, "I think I'll see what I have left, good luck." It was a smart move on his part, I faded badly, listing like the Edmund Fitzgerald until I finally hit bottom at the finish line. 3:44.40. Dave followed me in a couple minutes later. It was a tough day all around, Stan crashed at 13, and Jeanette pulled him in around 4:25.00. A tough day in Duluth for many a runner.
   Dave, Stan and Bryan signed up for the Medtronic Twin Cities Marathon within a month, J'net and I signed up for Whistle Stop, a small trail run in Ashland, Wisconsin. All of us wanted revenge!
   It would be a great four months of training between Grandma's and the October marathons. We all recovered well and then began building back up. Great runs, fast workouts, and we all had decided to taper differently than the previous marathons. It was a bit of a gamble, but we were all confident the new taper format was the missing key to our day of race success.
   MTC was a week before Whistle Stop, so J'net and I had the pleasure of cheering on our friends during the race. It was also fun to be at an expo and drink all the stuff and snack on the munchies without having to worry about racing! I had a blast at the expo!
   28' at the start, we had signs to hold and coffee to keep us warm as we waited at a number of spots along the course to see Bryan, Dave and Stan go by. It was great! They looked super, we saw them at three places and then the finish we saw Bryan and Dave.
   The results were fantastic. Bryan hit a BQ at just over 3:00, Dave set a PR at 3:39 and Stan also set a PR at 3:56. It was very encouraging for me to know everyone did well, especially Dave. He was my benchmark so the pressure was on...he did it, now I can too!
   A week later I was at the starting line of a quaint trail marathon, flat course, 48', slight mist, it was near perfect conditions. Like I said to Dave, "Go out slow, and then slow down some more." That paid dividends for me later in the race. I kept my attitude fun, saying hi to runners, encouraging them on, talking to others. It was a super day. I remember that my son Spencer and my brother Al were also racing that day, both in cross country meets. I wanted to do my best and all sorts of things motivated me. Sure, there were a few tough times but I bounced back and at mile 20 I thought about going with a guy that was picking up the pace, but it was just a bit too fast. After crashes in my past three marathons I lacked the confidence to go for 3:35, so I kept on my 3:40 pace. With three miles to go the wheels fell off, oh my, it was tough sledding. I holed up at the single table water stop, took a good drink of water and Gatoraid, and told myself that I was not going to let this one slip by. This one was my time to BQ. Ugh, run, walk, run, run, walk. Those last three were brutal. I picked it up with a half mile to go and saw Jeanette near the finish, clapping and cheering. She had been along the course with Bruce, Val's husband, cheering Val and I along the way. Jeanette had gotten sick and was not able to run. I turned the last corner and saw 3:38 on the clock and finished in 3:38.28, a BQ by 1:32. Val finished around 4:11.
Unfortunately that's six seconds slower than what I needed to get into the Boston Marathon for 2014. Six measly seconds.
Does it matter? Kind of. But I'll remember the day in Ashland, the near perfect race and the joy I had and was able to share with family and friends that knew of my struggles to BQ. It was a victory for me that I was able to share and not being able to race at Boston is only a slight bother.
My BQ race was a wicked good day!

Running, easy as A B C...Not!

noreply@blogger.com (Brian James Siddons) — Wed, 07 Aug 2013 03:01:00 +0000

     After years, even decades, of running we always have the opportunity to learn what works best for our training. The tweaks of our body are matched only by the tweaks we must make to our workouts.
   Early in our running, especially if we are young, there is a wide margin of error for overzealous training and racing. Some are lucky enough to rage through and continue on with no ills, but most of us must manage the highs and lows of good days and bad, successful seasons or not, and years of injury free running that we hold dear to our hearts because we know they are so precious.
   I've been working hard to manage my training the last four years as I trained in earnest for a BQ. I really enjoy training, especially over the past few years with our group. It's not about the racing, it's about the ability to head out for a group run or a solo adventure feeling like I am ready and able. Injuries and setbacks of the past embed themselves in my ink pen as I sketch out training schedules, knowing that I have to adjust to at least maintain, and be creative to improve. Liquid courage can take hold when setting goals or designing a post marathon recovery and upsurge plan, I must be careful not to red line, otherwise I'm just writing a prescription for knee pain, bursitis, hip pointer, etc, etc, etc.
   Hitting goals are a blast, whatever they are. Family, work, hobbies and of course running. But as I reset for the rest of this year, I know it's a blessing just to be out there. I want to push myself, dig deep and see if I can reach the goals I have set, but I must continually keep things in perspective. Much as I would love to bust it three or four days a week I know two are what works. I'll keep testing, even after all these years, but as a seasoned runner it's a fine line between pushing yourself through the wall and hitting your head against it.
   Sometimes we just have to back off a step and slide to the next lane for a chance to move ahead.
   Go Run!

Benchmarks of the season

noreply@blogger.com (Brian James Siddons) — Sat, 27 Jul 2013 17:17:00 +0000

     I struggle keeping my running log book up to date. My buddy Dave has offered to review his and send me mileage for the past couple of months of our runs together. I have some runs listed in, thanks to the storage feature of my 305. And I did write in some others, well, a few...ok, two! Dang, why can't I just take 45 seconds to write down my run for the day when I get done?
     Without being able to look back and see exactly what we've done, it's hard to know where we are, or should be, in regards to fitness. Sure, we know of certain workouts we've done over the past few weeks, but being able to see the numbers enables us to know if we are slacking or overdoing it over a six to eight week period. Especially if we make notes on how we felt for the day versus just logging the mileage. Notations add weather, conditions, course, etc and make reading early workouts more enjoyable and help you recall the effort more vividly. "Great 6 miler today, felt good after a couple miles and then we pushed it to the finish. Solid effort!" or "Really humid today, sucked the life right out of my legs. Eased back and just got through todays run." and the ever popular "Felt like I had lead in my legs today. Really feeling this weeks workouts. Need a long easy run this weekend."
     Many years ago the talk was about a paperless society, so why do we have so many shredding companies now? Anyway, I can see that in the rush to fill our days texting , emailing and posting we really don't have much in the way of documentation of our lives. Even photographs are being stashed in computers, hardly ever making their way to walls or bookcase displays. A running log is a real, tangible tracking of our running life and something that others can look at and get a glimpse of the true self of a runner. Every runner has the chance to build a library of their running life in yearly log books, complete with photos, race bibs and whatever else fits in to their running personality.
     It's as easy as using a calendar with large sections, or a simple date book. I use a sheet I designed for TEIL and put them in a 3 ring binder. I don't maintain it like I should, but I am committing to doing better, and adding even more notes to my entries. I spend so much time training, I need to spend a bit more time noting things about each run. Today was a perfect example, we did two sets of 4 x 440. 90 rest between quarters, one lap walk job ( 3:30 ) between sets. Went well and I averaged 87 for my quarters, about 7 seconds faster than the four I did about a week and a half ago. Since I did write the previous workout in my log I was able to look back and see that today I did twice as many at a faster pace and felt good.
     Great benchmark, great reason to keep writing down my workouts after every run. So, keep up with your journals, no matter the distance. Sometimes it's good just to write something even on the off days. You usually get motivated by reading previous workouts!
Go Run!

Little jar full of match sticks

noreply@blogger.com (Brian James Siddons) — Sat, 20 Jul 2013 23:10:00 +0000

Sometimes it's the little gains that make the most difference. The ones hidden from view and hardly mentioned. If I had two glass jars of wooden match sticks, one representing the big events in my life, the other a collection for each of the smaller events in my life, there's no question the second jar would be much fuller. Much the same as most anyone.
     If asked, it would be a tough decision on which jar would be the one to keep, if only one could be kept. In many instances, the big events won't happen without help from little events. The crescendo does not stand alone, it is given life in the prelude and carried away by the finale. But there are big events that happen right before our eyes, or across the country, that defy the odds and stand as a signal that life is random and we must always be paying attention. So much can happen as we sit in our homes, insulated from life beyond our domain.
   I think I'll start a collection of wooden match sticks, in two jars. Today I would have added a match stick to the little things jar after my morning run with J'net and Dave. Actually, two match sticks. First, one for the pleasure of being able to run with my wife J'net and my main training partner Dave. We mix our training speeds and distances depending on the day, it's a cooperative effort aimed at making sure everyone is able to get in a workout and enjoy each others company. My second match stick would be dropped into the jar as a thank you to Dave for pulling me along to a faster pace today. It's been just about two months since the Lake Wobegon Marathon and I've been in a bit of a training slump. We've done a couple interval sessions but I was just feeling like I was off a bit. So today we warmed up a couple miles then picked it up for two miles...and it felt great. Running faster is fun, especially when the effort seems like less than the Garmin shows. We cruised for another two miles through Bunker Park then stopped when our friend Bryan came running the opposite direction. A short conversation ensued and suddenly we three were headed back home at a nice clip. I just love the feeling of a steady pace with friends, and a smooth path lined with pines and then prairie grass to escort us to the finish.
     At the end of the year my jar of little events would make a nice blazing display, much brighter than the jar of big events. I'd light the little events pile all at once, but take each big event match stick and light those one by one. They last longer that way, as will those memories. But the little things, the ones that come and go daily, they make a bigger impact on my life than I might have allowed myself to realize. Not any more, from now on I'll savor the little things more, comfortable in the knowledge that at the end of the year I'll have a jar full of fire to light the way into the new year.
Go Run!

Marathon week!

noreply@blogger.com (Brian James Siddons) — Sun, 05 May 2013 16:25:00 +0000

Just a week away from the Lake Wobegon Marathon! We had hoped for a much milder spring for training, so to say the least J'net and I are a bit under trained. We did get in a solid last month in, a good 20 miler and a few solid paced runs.
Race day we are shooting for a sub four hour finish, we'll just start out conservative and see how the race develops.
Should be fun!

Winter: It's not quite dead, yet!

noreply@blogger.com (Brian James Siddons) — Sat, 23 Mar 2013 16:21:00 +0000

Shovel the sidewalk...a tounge on the flagpole parody.

Please disregard my last posting...way too optimistic!

Today's 16 mile run with Dave was easy pace, but only 15' at the start, and a cool 18' by finish time. High's in the 30's for another week means more laundry to be done, more time to get ready and of course icy paths in the morning.

I still don't mind, it's such a blessing to be running nearly pain and injury free ( there's always something nagging, but right now things are ok ) that the cold and clothes are a minor inconvenience. We've got a great area to run in, good friends to keep us motivated and a marathon on May 11 that reminds us "Hey, did you get a run in today?"

For those of you in warmer climes, enjoy the coolness of a 45' morning run and think of us here in Minnesota. We'll catch up later this year when you're running in 90' heat and we are striding along the trails on a 75' and sunny evening run.

Unless the mosquitoes carry us away.

Go run!

Winter is Half Dead!

noreply@blogger.com (Brian James Siddons) — Wed, 06 Feb 2013 01:28:00 +0000

     I have to admit, the last half of winter isn't really here yet, but on the other hand by the time mid-March arrives we are ready for tee shirts and shorts! Sure, we'll get some snow, but it will be in the 50's some days and the snow will melt quickly.
     On my calendar winter is half over, and it's the tough part that's over!
     Trails right now and for the next few weeks will be a constant variation; ice, snow, melt, slush, dry, water. We'll get it all but that's fine with me, it's a sign from Mother Nature that spring is on the way.
     Am I starting the celebration too early? I think not. Running the past week it was 12' and it felt good. That means I'm adjusted to the cold and anything over 20' will feel like spring. I'd have to carry a water bottle for the heat if it gets over 30' this weekend!
    I can dream. Soon enough the temps will be in the 40's every day and spring will be rooted in our yards, gardens and parks. I can manage a few more snow storms til then, it's good for the water tables, and to wash the gunk off my van.
     We can pray for the warmth, but don't sit on your butt blaming bad weather for keeping you inside. More than one person has spouted the following; There's no such thing as bad weather, just bad gear.
     Go Run!