automatic tasks become laborious for the runner. A good pacer will step in and take over as necessary.

THE PACER RUNS FOR TWO

As exciting and challenging as it is to assist an ultrarunner in his or her goal to cross the ultra finish line, a good pacer needs to keep perspective and take care of himself over the long distances. In a way, the pacer is running for two. Although the pacer is fresher than the runner, he or she is focused on the runner’s performance and needs, not his or her own real-time running feedback. Plus, the pacer can be carrying the weight of the runner’s fluid, fuel, and gear along with all of his or her own supplies. It is not an easy job. Pacers must be fit runners themselves, able to perform all necessary tasks without ever slowing the runner down. There are times when mismatched runner/pacer teams have split when the runner, stronger than the pacer, takes off and leaves the overcommitted pacer on the trail.

But the rewards of pacing are great. Says Chase: “Pacing is a way to give back to the sport because you can have an impact and you get a great workout while pacing. Plus, you vicariously get to participate in an event that you may never intend to run yourself.” But he identifies the problem of some circumstances being beyond a pacer’s control. Sometimes a runner simply cannot respond to a pacer’s suggestions or attempts to help. “You can only whip a tired horse so much, and you can’t fault yourself,” Chase advises.

SOME PACING TIPS

To ensure success in long ultraraces where time and distance compound the variables that affect the outcome, having a strategy is critical—and that includes a strategy for pacers. First of all, when possible, use several pacers in a leap-frog fashion to keep each one fresh for a longer time. The fresher the pacer, the better job he or she can do.

Remember that during the peaks and valleys of mental and physical sensations that a runner experiences over an ultrarace, whatever was planned as a good strategy in the clear, lucid thinking before the race is generally not as appealing at mile 87. Expect this and behave accordingly; don’t let a muddled head spoil a plan. The plan was made for a good reason, presumably, so stick to it as best you can. The pacer should help the runner avoid straying from the planned strategy.

When planning pacing strategy with pacers, be sure to clarify any possible confusion and to answer all questions. Pacers might ask, “Should I run in front of you or behind you?” “Do you want me to take care of everything for you in

Ahead of the race, be sure to review your strategy and address all possible questions with your pacers. Shown here is pacer Dusty Oleson (right) with his charge, 2001 Western States 100 champion Scott Jurek (# M1).

the aid stations?” “Do you want me to talk to you while we’re running?” on The answer to this last question may be the make-or-break strategy of the race. Some ultrarunners find the companionship of their pacers a psychological boost during the hard effort of an ultrarace; others prefer to avoid distraction and the energy expenditure of conversation.

One key point: no matter what the talking plan is between the runner and the pacer, remind him or her not to hold you accountable for anything said under the strain of racing ultradistance. Many ultrarunners, cursing the depth of their misery deep into the dark and fatigue of an ultrarace, question their sanity. “Why am I doing this?” Under extreme distance, they might forget the thousands of miles, dollars, and hours of training they have invested toward this goal. All doubt and second thoughts spoken during the race are instantly forgotten upon crossing the finish line.

Probably the most universal tip for pacers is never to ask the runner how he or she is doing. No matter how long an ultrarace, there’s not enough time for the runner to list the litany of pains, stomach discomfort, psychological doubts, and misery he or she is experiencing. No one gets to complete an ultradistance race without these experiences, but that doesn’t mean they merit discussion during the race.

SOME PACING TRICKS

When the basic pacer roles of psychologist, doctor, technical coach, companion, and entertainer are not enough, the wise pacer resorts to the role of magician. To be honest, this is not a difficult role for fresh pacers to assume for their tired ultrarunners. An ultrarunner’s cognitive faculties seem to be the first to go during the exertion of an ultrarace (and some suggest that these faculties leave ultrarunners at the time they sign up for the race!).

al Ne. So, You’ve Done a Marathon… w Sa? Ready for the Next Challenge?

Largest Ultra in the United States 50 Mile & 50K Loop course on soft dirt trails

Saturday, December 8, 2001 Huntsville State Park, Huntsville, TX

Race premiums include polo shirt, fanny pack, embroidered cap, running bag, water bottle, race program, rain poncho, travel kit, day planner, sunglasses, plush beanie toys, gloves, bandana, camera, manicure kit, pocket knife.

Finisher’s bonus: 4′ x 5′ artistic embroidered afghan or designer tyvek jacket

50 Mile: 12-hour time limit 50K: 10-hour time limit Pre-race pasta dinner;

post-race BBQ

For more information, contact Roger Soler’s Sports (210) 366-3701

www.rogersoler.com

Theresa Daus-Weber ULTRA-PACING 25

When his runner complained about muscle soreness while climbing the final ascent of the Leadville Trail 100 at mile 81, pacer Charlie Hayes suggested that she take some ibuprofen to get her over this last 11,600-foot climb. Julie Westland-Litus, a veteran of ultraruns on various continents, mumbled her acceptance of Hayes’s suggestion. To maintain the momentum of the climb, he instructed her to continue power-hiking, while he took off the daypack and rummaged in the dark among its contents of flashlights, water bottles, energy bars, rain jackets, gloves, hats, and so on. After disassembling the entire pack on the side of a dark mountain as his runner moved farther and farther ahead, Hayes could not find the tablets he had recommended. Breathlessly catching up to his runner after about 10 minutes had passed, Hayes cheerfully asked the tired runner if the ibuprofen was making her legs feel better. “I guess so,” was all Westland-Litus could utter between lumbering steps up the steep slope.

The point is, first, be prepared for all requests that a runner may have, and if that fails, be creative. It doesn’t take much to redirect a tired runner’s limp mind.

On the other hand, recall that the wrong kind of suggestion might annoy a runner, as Chase recounts of LT100 champion Steve Peterson at mile 84. After Peterson picked himself up from a stumble on a very dark, rocky descent, Chase attempted to redirect the pain and the adrenaline of the fall by enthusiastically reminding the champion of the enormous distance he had covered and the comparatively small distance remaining. The stoic and fatigued Peterson did not succumb to the suggestion. Staying in the present despite the uplifting suggestion, Peterson requested, “Can we not talk about distance right now?”

A PACER’S PRACTICAL REQUIREMENTS

Along with the many typical roles, a pacer also needs to meet certain practical requirements. These include a certain level of running experience, comfort in remote outdoor environments, a good sense of direction, overall strength, understanding of ultradistance events and athletes, and a personality that welcomes challenge and on the spot problem-solving.

For very experienced ultrarunners, a local pacer’s main responsibility can be familiarity with the race course to prevent the runner from getting lost. A pacer who can accurately remind a runner whose quads are burning that “You only have 15 more minutes from this creek bed to the top of this climb” can be invaluable at that moment in the race.

Because a pacer runs for two, he or she needs to be fit enough to focus on the runner and the race and not worry about his or her own running effort. Often pacers are shorter-distance runners who are friends of the ultrarunners and are intrigued by the ultrarunner’s endeavor. In these situations a pacer is

Pacer Catra Corbett (with braid) hugs her runner, Julia Bramer, at the finish of the 2001 Western States 100.

asked to pace a short segment of the race, rest for a few hours, and jump back in the race later to pace the runner for another segment, relieving the second pacer.

The practical knowledge of ultraracing gear is also essential for a pacer. Often, the tired, swollen fingers and fuzzy mind of the ultrarunner are no match for a water bottle belt that fit just fine when in the bright sunshine seven hours earlier. Now the belt needs to be expanded to accommodate an expeditionweight shirt and jacket during a midnight downpour. The knowledge and ability to quickly adjust gear to prevent chafing and blisters and maintain body warmth and “comfort” are valuable pacer assets.

If duties require a pacer to run during night segments of the race, the pacer needs to be familiar with the experience of running trails during the night and the science of trail-lighting equipment. Whatever lighting gear the ultrarunner uses to illuminate dark trails and course marking at night, the pacer needs to be familiar with it in case the equipment fails. To avoid time-consuming lighting repairs on the trails, the pacer would serve the runner best by carrying fully operable replacement lighting.

PACING OPPORTUNITIES

If you’re enticed by the challenges and rewards of pacing ultradistance runners and confident that you can perform the roles and meet the requirements, you may next wonder, “Where do I sign up?”

Often long-distance races have an organized “Pacer Central,” where runners seeking pacers and pacers seeking runners register. It’s sort of like the personal ads in the newspaper, where each party describes running needs and attributes. You might also check any running clubs in proximity to the ultraraces. Word of mouth is the most common method of finding pacers.

A less reliable, though sometimes worthwhile, method is for the runner in search of a pacer to run into an aid station during the race and ask if there are any pacers available. Pacers committed to runners who withdrew from the race are prepared and psyched to pace and might jump at the opportunity to pace after the disappointment of their runner’s DNF. It’s a way to meet new friends or at least to get the job done.

Regrettably for the ultrarunner who finds a great pacer, the pacer is usually lured to experience the race directly as a competitor. Many great pacers become runners seeking their own pacers at the following year’s race. So, if you’ re considering the challenge and sense of accomplishment of ultraracing, pacing an ultra can provide you a real-life view of arunning adventure that few can even imagine.

To determine if you’re pacer material, answer the following questions:

1. Can you run and carry a flashlight at the same time—and in the dark?

2. Can you run with pounds of ultrarunning gear on your back or around your waist?

3. Are you good at route finding?

4. Can you offer helpful suggestions on good running form while your own feet are hurting?

5. Are you thrilled at the prospect of assisting a fatigued, muddled ultrarunner cross rivers and negotiate dangerous mountain trails?

6. Can you ignore the suffering of your runner and keep him or her moving toward the finish line in an upbeat manner?

7. Are you comfortable in the outdoors, no matter what it throws at you? 8. Can you solve problems quickly?

9. Can you ignore the rantings and ravings of a tired runner and focus on the goal of the finish line?

10. After a day without sleep, can you clap wildly at the finish line as your runner takes the final steps to complete a 100-mile experience of a lifetime?

If you answered “Yes” to most of these questions, you’ve got potential as an ultra-pacer. Welcome to one of the noblest fraternities on i. earth.

Miracles Happen

Not Every Miracle Is Huge; Some Miracles Are Minor, But They Do Happen, If You Nudge Them Along.

T HIS ISN’T a miracle of the Lance Armstrong mold. It’s not about rescuing children from a burning building, protecting someone from a deranged killer, or curing a terminal disease. Essentially, all that happened is I ran a marathon.

At 40 years old, overweight, with no prior experience running distance, I trained and succeeded in moving my butt along 26.2 miles of road on my own two feet. And those who know me realize that this indeed is something of a miracle.

Saturday night, September 30, 2000. I have just returned from picking up my race packet. I laid out my clothes, consumed enough water to float a battleship, and pinned my number (#372—-signed up early to get a low number) on my top. I pick up the race booklet and find myself tearing up. I am scared to death.

Iam no world-class athlete. I never ran track in school. In fact, it wasn’t until the 80s that I started running casually. I found people to run with when I recognized that a running buddy can make a huge difference to your perseverance. Usually my dedication would last two to five months. In the early °90s, I began again. And again. And again. I built to a steady three days a week, running two to four miles. Most weeks, but not all.

Over the years, assorted friends I recruited to keep me company on my runs “trained” with me for goals like the Hood to Coast, a 195-mile relay from Oregon’s Mt. Hood to the town of Seaside at the Pacific Ocean. But I had foot surgery, broke my leg skiing—all sorts of excuses kept surfacing. Still, I kept running and inched my way up to five miles. This was a victory.

By the mid ’90s I broke the six-mile barrier by running to a tavern for beers, burgers, and a ride home. Feeling cocky, Shannon, my most regular running

K. Marie Bender MIRACLES HAPPEN ® 29

pal, and I tried eight miles on a day that was hot as hell, and I remember thinking, “No one really runs this far on purpose, do they?”

In 1997 I got my first shot at the Hood to Coast. Days afterward, I ran 10 consecutive miles for the first time in my entire life. Talk about a high. I began to think of myself as a runner. Me and my 10- and 11-minute miles.

After reaching 10 miles, 13.1 seemed a logical next step. We found a very flat half-marathon in Centralia, Washington. At the finish, I swore I would never try anything that stupid again. My feet felt as if they had been run over by a dump truck. Really. I couldn’t walk. Aching from head to toe (especially toes, arches, and heels), I just knew I had pushed my body as far as it was ever going to go.

Back to casual running, I banished any thoughts of distance and boisterously dismissed, even condemned, the crazy people who would consider it. Fanatics ran marathons. Marathons were stupid, really. Normal people are not obsessed enough. You have to revolve your whole life around the training, and why would I want to do that? I had a long list of reasons why not.

INSPIRED BY AN IN-LAW

Then, in 1999, I watched my sister-in-law Renee finish the Portland Marathon. It was her first marathon, and watching her, I felt an indescribable shift inside me. I knew I wanted to run a marathon. Maybe I had wanted to all along, but seeing someone real, someone I knew succeed, changed me. From then on, there was no going back.

gery that completely halted my running for eight weeks. But in March, I signed up on the Internet for the 2000 Portland Marathon. I paid the $60 to commit myself and started telling people I was going to run it. As if I believed I really could do it. Fortunately for me, a couple of friends, Susan and Virginia, both veteran marathoners, suggested I sign up for a training program. Through them I found the Portland Fit training pro- Seeing sister-in-law Renee (right) finish the gram, which is part of the na- 1999 Portland Marathon inspired Marie (left) tional USAFit program. to take on the marathon herself.

Like hundreds of others, I showed up at a Portland Fit workout on April 1, wondering what kind of joke I was playing on myself. As if I could run 26.2 miles. I was not at my ideal weight, I hadn’t been running because of my surgery, and there was the persistent memory of how wretched I felt after the half-marathon back in 1997. I had turned 40 in March.

But I ran three miles on April Fool’s Day. I followed the Portland Fit schedule. I read the seminars, which were on-line. And soon six months were down to four. I made a point of telling everyone I knew that I intended to run. I felt that I had to make it real somehow, and well, maybe I felt it sort of compelled me to follow through once I told everyone I was doing it.

June 17th was my first major benchmark—a half-marathon. I started psyching myself out. It was difficult to see myself doing it again. It hurt so much the other time I’d done it.

It was more than 80 degrees that June day in Vancouver, Washington, and it took me two hours and 47 minutes to finish the course. Not good for someone hoping to finish 26 miles in under five hours. My husband and a close friend came to see me finish. I earned a medal. I got past the humbling experience of speed walkers sailing by me. And I noticed something good: I could still walk. Thad three and a half months to go.

In July we ran 15 miles, which was new territory for me. I made a really basic bad choice and wore a brand new pair of shoes. By the end, I was sore, tired, and semidelirious. Doubts of reaching 26 crept back in and rooted. No matter. I continued to speak confidently to anyone who asked. I acted as if. And I kept running my weekday runs.

My next big benchmark was 18.6 miles. This time my shoes were broken in. But my times weren’t getting any faster. My five-hour goal seemed impossible, so I shifted my intentions. What I really wanted from this marathon was to complete it without losing my desire to ever run again.

Our longest run, 21 miles, was okay until about 16 miles. The rest was simply grueling. From 19 home, I was just keeping my body moving. And 21 miles is not 26.2. Unfortunately, I knew this only too clearly. I had three weeks of taper to the big day. Our final weekend run, a mere seven miles, included conquering a big bad hill we would hit at mile 17 in the race. A glimmer of confidence (or was it hope?) returned.

REVIEWING MY PREPARATIONS

The final week I had trouble staying motivated. I was getting fearful again, especially when short runs seemed difficult. During a 35-minute run that week, I thought about what I had changed in my life to do this. I cut back on coffee and alcohol, not wanting to be dehydrated before long runs. I watched

my diet, but I never did lose the extra pounds in spite of all the energy I expended. I bought a couple of pairs of really good running shoes. I learned to tolerate GU (but only one flavor—man, that stuff tastes nasty). And I had committed Saturday mornings to long runs. That meant getting to bed early Friday nights for six months.

Not so bad, really. Not in the grand scheme.

On September 30, my emotions are on a roller coaster. I have family and friends coming to watch and support me. My husband, a Portland motorcycle police officer, is working the race and will find me somewhere on the course. Friends from work are running also. Aside from Troy, one of my training partners, I am the only one I know who will be doing this for their first time. I try not to think about the 21-mile mark.

I call my friends to ask where we’ll meet in the morning. They give me a spot, and if they’re not there, look for the 10-minute-per-mile pace sign. I try to sleep, hoping the sound of the rain will lull me off to sleep and that the rain will go away by race morning. It lulls me, but it doesn’t go away.

Sunday morning I get up at 4:30, braid my hair, get dressed, eat a little. I take a long look in the mirror and ask myself one last time: What do you think you’re doing? How is it you think you can run 26.2 miles? I have no answer. I’ll get back to you on that, I tell my reflection. But I am going to do it, somehow.

Finding parking and a trip to the port-a-potty line out of the way, I am off in search of Troy, Virginia, and Susan. No luck in the enormous crowd, and at 6:30 a.m. the skies burst open, drenching everyone. It rains pretty hard, starts to let up, and then there’s another downpour. I hear a voice say, “Get under here, whoever can fit.” A walker, I think named Linda, has a large green tarp, and suddenly eight of us are huddled inside it. We are all wet, but it is much warmer with the body heat we are generating.

lam the tallest, so I keep checking up front to see if there is any movement yet. The announcer sounds like the teacher from Charlie Brown movies. Wawaawawa wa wawa. We don’t understand a word. We check our watches again and again. I fight away the part of my head asking why I am standing out here with all these runners. Look at them! They are thin and strong; they look confident. Wait, they’re soaked, just like me.

Andas I look around, I realize they are young and old. Some thin and some far heavier than me. Some look downright miserable, and a few reflect the same uncertainty I am feeling right now. I want to tell them we will all get through this together. But really, I am starting to understand that we may help each other (like Linda here with the tarp), but we will each get through this alone. That’s what we will have to be proud of at the end.

FINALLY: MOVEMENT!

The front of the crowd is moving. I haven’t found my running partners. It is still raining, though less. The streets have rivers of water crossing them, and the first half mile, maybe longer, the crowd inches forward at a slow jog. Somewhere up in the front, I am sure the fast runners have stretched out and begun to pick up speed; but where I am, the walkers and runners are all mixed together, and I decide it is good to go slow, watch my foot falls, and avoid the really deep water.

My feet stay as dry as can be hoped for. It is getting light. We are moving through the downtown area, all familiar to me. Unbelievably, I have gone five miles. Signs for someone named Leo are everywhere along the way. His supporters are so enthusiastic, I think I should find out who Leo is and just run with him.

Ineed to stop (girl stuff), so I find a short port-a-potty line around mile 6.5 and wait my turn. Wet Lycra shorts don’t seem to want to adjust back easily, but good news, when I exit the port-a-potty, there’s Susan! We start running together down the long out-and-back in Northwest Portland’s industrial area. I wave at two friends from work about a mile and a half in front of me, headed back as Iam still heading out. From mile 7 to 11, with the turnaround just after 9, I start to feel something is wrong.

Susan and I play leapfrog, each taking turns in front. I realize that my shorts have come apart at the inner thigh seam. My legs are starting to chafe. I finda Vaseline person at the next aid station, stop, and dip several fingers into the jar. The quarter-sized glob they have on the wooden tongue depressors just isn’t going to be enough.

Around mile 10, Patrick shows up on his motorcycle. I tell him about my shorts, but I don’t make a big deal of it. [have no idea that within a few miles the chafing will hurt a lot more. He has seen his sister Renee; she is just in front of me. Susan is out in front of me again, and Pat has seen Virginia as well. No sign of Troy, but he is likely ahead of us all. I keep going, the weather has improved, and my mood is pretty good.

By mile 12, 12.5, lam miserable. Frustrated. Concerned. I think my muscles are doing great, but my inner thighs are raw, and bits of the fabric from my shorts are sprinkled down my legs, stuck with Vaseline. I wonder if I can keep running. At mile 13, Pat finds me again. I tell him I am distressed and need to use the rest room, but I am afraid my shorts won’t live through the experience.

He looks at them and then races off to find an open store. I can only hope he succeeds. I try to keep running, but the worst spot is bleeding now, on fire. I walk a ways and realize even walking hurts. Running again, I keep telling myself I have nothing to prove to anyone: this is for me. I wanted to do this

K. Marie Bender MIRACLES HAPPEN 33

thing. I think I even say this out loud to a woman asking how I am doing. At 16.5 miles, at the base of the longest hill on the course, I hear the motorcycle before I see it. Pat is coming toward me, the only kind of motor traffic on the course.

A CHANGING ROOMETTE

I stop in front of a bank of five outhouses, and he pulls out two pairs of shorts for me to choose from. So happy, I feel the tears coming up again. I get in line, no longer caring about time goals, just wanting the pain to end. I am sure the contortions I have to go through in such a confined space in order to change shorts would be funny to watch. I don’t dare take off my shoes, as I’m not going to risk my socks not settling back to where they were. My feet still feel good, and I want to keep them that way.

The new shorts bring instant relief. I am so grateful. Renewed enthusiasm rises up inside me. Pat is off to check on his sister and to find my family and friends waiting ahead a few miles. I won’t be there as soon as I had anticipated, but he can go explain why.

At the top of the beautiful St. Johns Bridge, I can see downtown in the distance: the end. I take account of my body parts. Feet: doing pretty good. Legs: muscles fine, sore spot is down to a barely noticeable irritation. Back and shoulders: surprisingly loose. Neck: a little tense, but okay. My thoughts are

: what have really improved.

Each slow step I take seems to get a tiny bit easier. Eight miles left. I can go eight miles. I start giving myself credit for doing this at all. My voice clears. About halfway [had begun nodding at the volunteers, and now Tam back to voicing my thanks. I lift my arm to wave at spectators. Thanks for being here. It makes a difference. Rows of little kids with their hands out

With Marie after the race is her husband Patrick, a Portland motorcycle policeman, who made a race-saving purchase of replacement running shorts for Marie during the race.

for high-fives; I try not to miss any of them. A band at this corner, belly dancers at the next. Hey, I work with her! I find the energy to yell “Hello!”

At mile 20, I again find Susan. We jog slowly along together. Mile 21. There’s my husband, some friends, my brothers, my mom. They wave and scream and tell me I have lovely shorts. Pat has given them the update. One friend comes out to jog along with me for a couple of blocks.

“All you have to do is keep running,” she tells me, as if that is some simple thing. I think of recently attending the birth of another friend’s son. “You just need to push,” we told her near the finish. She must have felt the way I did right then.

Jam running alone again. A woman jogging slowly beside me says, “Hey, it’s you! Thanks!” I ask what for? Miles back, I told her I wasn’t here to prove anything to anyone. I was doing it for myself. She tells me those words got her past feeling as if she was the slowest runner on the course. She quit beating herself up for not running fast enough and began appreciating herself for what she was doing. Running a damned marathon. Photos ahead, the sign reads. Smile, says the next. I check in with my face. Hey, I’m smiling already.

The long downhill arrives, and though my legs are like rubber, I have enough momentum to keep jogging. My body is a miracle. My body is strong. I say these things over and over in my head.

HERE’S A NEW FRIEND

With just over two miles to go, I am getting close to being done. Not just with the race but also with my energy reserve. I have taken GU a few times and need to swallow more even this close to the finish. I have walked through the aid stations, and at this one I keep walking. There is a small rise that takes me to the last bridge. I find myself next to a tall East Indian man who tells me he started too fast. Doing 8- to 9-minute miles, he had died at mile 15. He has been walking on and off since. I ask him how many times he has run 1.75 miles. “Countless,” he tells me in his incredible accent.

“Then run with me to the end. It is right over there,” I tell him.

“You see the end?” he asks.

I show him.

He says, “Yes, but slowly.”

I tell him about my shorts. We laugh, and we begin to jog again.

As we come to the last mile, our steps get lighter. We are thanking each other. “I would be walking if not for you,” I say.

“Me too,” he says.

I point out the fountain where we will turn for the last three blocks. Right before the turn, three motor officers watch the race from a side street. The

K. Marie Bender MIRACLES HAPPEN 35

handsome one in the middle, my hero, breaks away from the others to watch me finish. With two blocks to go, my new friend says, “Let’s pick up the pace a bit.” We do, me right at his heels.

The final left turn is the finish chute, and we cross one after the other. I hear friends yelling out my name, I drop my head for my medal, and my newest friend turns around to shake my hand. We are both grinning like fools. I see Virginia. She finished a quarter of an hour before me. Troy 15 minutes before her. Susan is coming soon. We all made it.

I get a pin, some food, my T-shirt (they make you decide on a color after running that far—what a cruel joke), arose, a little seedling tree, and for a moment I mingle with the hundreds of other runners still hanging out at the finish. Five hours and 46 minutes. Pretty slow, but I did have to change clothes in the middle.

Besides, I just ran a marathon. Twenty-six-point-two miles. I am in shock. Maybe I’m dreaming. As far as I can tell, I have no injuries or even soreness other than my chafing. I visit with friends, and eventually we drive home. There I celebrate with a single malt Scotch and a long soak in the hot tub. Patrick returns, and we take a nap, and then he treats me to a great dinner.

Three days later, I take my clothes and shoes to work with me again, and at lunch I run three miles. Not fast, but with energy and enthusiasm. Still smiling, I wonder if I could do a marathon in under five hours. I would find out : in Vancouver, British Columbia, in May of 2001. Pi,

New shorts intact, Marie is all smiles as she crosses the finish line of the 2000 Portland Marathon.

Editor’s note: At the Vancouver International Marathon in May, Marie reached her sub-5:00 goal, with more than seven minutes to spare. “If I continue to improve at this rate, hey, I could be placing in my age group soon,” she reported.

INAUGURAL

moerathon

Aes 1 Tool

Featuring the following Birmingham, Alabama elev marathon events: February 10

Marathon iarclimmAraleoldalel a) Kids Marathon

HONOR THEIR MEMORY CELEBRATE LIFE REACH FOR THE FUTURE

RUN THE OKLAHOMA CITY MEMORIAL MARATHON

marathon ° 2 person relay ¢ 5 person relay wheelchairs ¢ marathon walk kid’s marathon ¢ memorial walk ¢ expo

OKLAHOMA CITY

Sunday, April 28th, 2002

(405) 525-4242 | MEMORIAL MARATHON

www.okcmarathon.com

Pore eet ta)

| ME, | SAW, | CONQUERED Be OBIS oyster)

THE FILA RACER. A LIGHTWEIGHT RACING FLAT WITH SPEED TECH CARBON KEVLAR HAS HELPED THE FILA INTERNATIONAL RUNNING TEAM WIN 29 MARATHONS IN THE PAST 2 YEARS.

ROAD RUNNER SPORTS c ILA

roadrunnersports.com

“America’s most scenic urban marathon”

Quality Seconds

Safely Making Your Way Through the Multiple Marathons Minefield.

Ts ARTICLE is for those occasions when, for whatever perverse reason, you’ ve decided to do two marathons with 12 weeks or less between them. Though doing two (or more) marathons in rapid succession generally isn’t the best way to go after a personal best time, this article focuses on structuring your training to maximize your likelihood of success. It includes three training schedules, covering 12, 8, and 4 weeks between marathons (see pages 49-53).

The schedules in this article were written for marathoners who typically build to 60 to 70 miles per week during marathon preparation. The 12-week schedule builds to a peak weekly mileage of 67, whereas the 8- and 4-week schedules peak at 65 and 48 miles, respectively. If your mileage during marathon preparation is typically more than 70 miles per week, then scale up the volume in these schedules moderately. Similarly, if your mileage typically peaks at less than 60 miles per week, then scale the training back proportionately.

The schedules assume that you want to do your best in your second marathon. Though this might not mean running a personal best or even running as fast as in the first one in your double (or triple, or whatever), it does mean toeing the line with the intention of running as fast as you can that day. If your multiple-marathoning goal is to cruise comfortably through a second or third marathon soon after a peak effort, then ignore these schedules. Simply focus on recovering from your first one while interspersing enough long runs to maintain your endurance until your next one.

READING THE SCHEDULES

The schedules are presented in a day-by-day format. The main limitation with this approach is that it’s impossible to guess the myriad of outside factors that may influence your day-to-day nonrunning life. Work schedules, family life,

relationships, school commitments, and Mother Nature all play parts in determining when you get to do your long runs and other aspects of marathon preparation. You’ ll no doubt require some flexibility in your training and will need to juggle days around from time to time. That’s expected, and as long as you don’t try to make up for lost time by doing several hard days in a row, you should be able to avoid injury and overtraining.

Because of the large variation among runners in the time required for marathon recovery, you should approach these schedules with a high degree of flexibility. Also, if in your first marathon, the weather was hot, you became severely dehydrated, or you became unusually hobbled, then your recovery is likely to take longer than usual. When a conflict arises between what the schedule says to do and what your body says to do, listen to your body. With these tight time frames between marathons, your best strategy is first to focus on recovery and then worry about the other aspects of training. If you’re not able to follow the schedules closely for one reason or another, then follow the priorities discussed later in this article in choosing which workouts to do and which to skip.

For all the schedules, remember that in the first few weeks after marathon one, recovery is your primary objective and that during the last three weeks, tapering to consolidate your energy reserves is paramount. If you’re worn out or injured going into marathon two, then any extra workouts you squeezed in won’t have been worth the effort.

FOLLOWING THE SCHEDULES

Each column of the schedules represents a week’s training. For example, in the eight-week schedule, the column for “seven weeks to go” indicates that at the end of that week you have seven weeks until your second marathon. The schedules continue week by week until race week.

We have included the specific workout for each day, as well as the category of training for that day. For example, in the eight-week schedule on the Friday of the “five weeks to go” column, the specific workout is a nine-mile run with striders, and the category of training for that day is general aerobic and speed conditioning. This aspect of the schedules allows you to quickly see the balance of training during each week and the progression of workouts from week to week. Look again at the eight-week schedule—it’s easy to see that with five weeks to go until the marathon, there are four recovery days that week plus a medium-long run and two general aerobic conditioning runs (one with a bit of speed).

Looking at the row for Sunday, it’s easy to see how the long runs progress and then taper in the last few weeks before the marathon.

The workouts are divided into the following eight categories: long runs, medium-long runs, general aerobic runs, lactate threshold runs, VO,max runs, speed, recovery runs, and (for the 12-week schedule only) marathon-pace runs. Each of these categories is explained briefly below.

¢ Long Runs. A long run is any run of 17 miles or longer. The obvious intention of long runs is to improve your endurance in preparation for the marathon’s 26.2 miles. To gain the most from your long runs, do them at the correct intensity. Long runs shouldn’t be slow jogs during which you just accumulate time on your feet. The most beneficial intensity range for your long runs is 10 to 20 percent slower than your goal marathon race pace.

¢ Medium-Long Runs. A medium-long run is any run of 11 to 16 miles. Medium-long runs reinforce the physiological benefits of your long runs. To gain the greatest physiological benefits, the pace for these runs should be similar to the pace for long runs.

¢ General Aerobic Runs. General aerobic runs include any run of 10 miles or less done at a steady pace. Faster runs of this length fall into the lactate threshold category, whereas slower runs are specifically for recovery. In other words, these are your standard, moderate-effort, putting-in-the-miles runs. The intention of your general aerobic runs is to enhance your overall aerobic conditioning through boosting your training volume; these runs improve your marathon readiness, as many of the beneficial adaptations that improve endurance relate to the total volume of your training.

¢ Lactate Threshold Runs. Lactate threshold runs are tempo runs during which you run for at least 20 minutes at your lactate threshold pace. This coincides closely with your current 15K to half-marathon race pace. Tempo runs provide a strong stimulus to improve your lactate threshold pace, which leads to similar improvements in your marathon race pace. The lactate threshold sessions are done after a two- to three-mile warm-up. The tempo runs in this article are four or five miles long, whereas we recommend tempo runs of up to seven miles when you’re peaking for one marathon. The reason for the difference is that with the short time frames of the multiple-marathoning schedules and the fact that you’ ve just run a marathon, lactate threshold training isn’t as high a priority.

° VO,max Runs. VO,max runs consist of intervals of 600 meters to 1600 meters duration, which are run at 95 to 100 percent of your current VO,max pace. This coincides closely with your current 3K to 5K race pace. These sessions provide a strong stimulus to improve your VO,max.

e Speed. Speed runs are repetitions of 50 meters to 150 meters that improve leg speed and running form. These sessions are done after a thorough

P. 1983 Trifecta

n 1983, |ran three high-quality marathons in 17 weeks. Nine weeks after winning the San Francisco Marathon in 2:14:44, | finished second in the Montreal Marathon in 2:12:33. Eight weeks after that, | won the Auckland

Marathon in 2:12:19. At the time, the last two races were personal bests.

| did a few things wrong between San Francisco and Montreal but was able to hold my body together through a combination of luck, enthusiasm, and youth (| was 26). After San Francisco, | was remarkably stiff for several days. I’m not sure whether that was from standing around in the cold for a couple of hours after the race or because it was my first marathon in almost two years. | hobbled a two-miler two days after the race and racked up 46 miles for the week. Regular massage helped to bring my legs around.

Fortunately, my body bounced back really well after that first week, and | was up to 100 miles for the third week after, including a session of eight 800-meter repeats on the track. My mileage climbed to 116 and 122 for the fourth and fifth weeks, which was about as high as | used to get back then. (| hadn’t made an Olympic team yet, so | was working full-time.) There was just enough time to fit in two tune-up races, a five-miler in 23:35 and a thirdplace finish in the New Haven 20K, and then it was time to taper again. Eight days before Montreal, | went to the track and did two repeats of 1600 meters in 4:24 and 4:23, which was really fast for me anda good omen. The last two weeks before the race | tried to get caught up on sleep, and | felt really ready going into Montreal.

The night after Montreal, | stayed out until 5 a.m., took an 8 a.m. flight back to Boston, and caught a cab directly to work. This didn’t help my recovery. After that, though, I settled down, andin the first three weeks after Montreal covered 48, 72, and 97 miles. Lots of sleep and weekly massages kept me injury-free, and except for the ‘occasional “felt like hell” notation in my diary, training went pretty well.

Three weeks before the Auckland Marathon, | started my leave of absence from work at New Balance to prepare for the Olympic Trials and flew to New Zealand with my training partner, Tom Ratcliffe, who was also running Auckland. We got a bit carried away with the excitement and probably overtrained the first week there. The second week in New Zealand, | ran a 10K tune-up race in 29:12, which | was very pleased with. During the last week before the marathon, however, | could tell that my body was ona fine edge, and | decided to back off. Three days before the race, | was still feeling pretty tired. Fortunately, on race day, | felt strong and broke away after 17 miles. It had been a very positive experience in multiple marathoning that was excellent preparation for the following year’s Olympic Trials and marathon.—Pete Pfitzinger

warm-up and often toward the end of a general aerobic run or a recovery run. Allow yourself plenty of rest between repetitions so that you can run each one with good technique.

¢ Recovery Runs. Recovery runs are relatively short runs done at a relaxed pace to enhance recovery from your previous marathon and for your next hard workout. These runs aren’t necessarily jogs, but they should be noticeably slower than your other workouts of the week.

° Marathon-Pace Runs. Only one marathon-pace run is called for in these schedules, and it occurs in the 12-week schedule, with 6 weeks until marathon two. These sessions are so hard and require so much recovery that they don’t have a role in shorter multiple-marathoning schedules. Start the marathon-pace run in the 12-week schedule comfortably, as you would other medium—tong runs, and then run the last 12 miles at marathon race pace.

MULTIPLE-MARATHONING PRIORITIES 12-Week Schedule

Twelve weeks between marathons isn’t bad. There’s a real risk, however, of either taking it too easy and gradually losing marathon-specific fitness or overdoing it and finding yourself at the starting line of marathon two feeling tired and wondering why you’ re there. You need to find the perfect balance for your individual situation. The best strategy is to really take it easy for the first three to four weeks after your previous marathon to ensure that your body is fully recovered. That leaves eight or nine weeks until the next marathon, including five or six weeks of solid training and a three-week taper.

The key training time is the six-week period lasting from seven weeks to go through two weeks until the second marathon. The most important workouts (see *) during those weeks are the tune-up races with 15 and 29 days to go; the marathon-specific run with 42 days to go; the long runs with 21, 28, 35, and 49 days to go; the VO,max sessions with 25, 33, and 39 days to go; and the medium-long runs with 24, 32, 38, 44, and 52 days until marathon two.

Eight-Week Schedule

The eight-week schedule allows you to recover thoroughly from your previous marathon, train well for about three weeks, and then taper for marathon two. Eight weeks between marathons is far less risky than four or six weeks. Even if your first marathon was hot, or if you came out of it with a minor injury, with a bit of luck you should still be okay for marathon two.

Pete’s 1984 Dynamic Double

n May 26, 1984, |ran 2:11:43 to win the Olympic marathon trials, and then on August 12, | placed 11th in 2:13:53 in the Olympics. Here’s how | approached the 11 weeks in between.

| was on a bit of a high after winning the trials, to say the least. | took the next day off and went for a relaxed swim and a pathetic three-mile shuffle two days after the race. The next day, | had my weekly massage, and my muscles weren’t too bad. Building toward the Olympics, massage each week helped keep me injury-free despite the short recovery. | ran 45 miles the week after the trials. Using the philosophy that | needed to get the training in as quickly as possible to be able to taper again and be in top form for the Olympics, | initially ran as | felt and got in 112 miles the second week and 151 miles the third week. During the second week after the trials, | started doing a few strideouts every couple of days to try to get my legs turning over. This seemed to help quite a bit.

In retrospect, | should have run 80 to 90 miles the second week and 110 to 120 the third week. Doing the amount | did showed a lack of confidence because | wouldn’t have lost fitness by doing fewer miles. In fact, if| had run a bit less mileage right after the trials, | probably would have performed better at the Olympics. But | didn’t understand that at the time.

The problem | faced was that in 11 weeks | couldn’t very well do a 4-week recovery and a 3-week taper, as that would have left only 4 weeks to train to compete against the best runners in the world. | got around that by cutting back the recovery and getting back into fairly high-quality long intervals by the fourth or fifth week post-trials. The beauty of the short recovery after the trials was that | was fit enough to do my long intervals at a good clip right away, so | didn’t need as long to build into them. For example, in the fifth week post-trials, | did a 3-mile time trial on the track in 14:02.

{ did continue, however, to train according to how | felt, with flexibility both ways. For example, one day | headed out for a 15-miler, felt good, and wound up going 26. On other days, | would postpone a track workout for a day or two until my legs felt like they could give a good effort without getting injured.

| tapered more for the Olympics than for the trials. This was somewhat necessitated by tightness that | developed in my back during the last three weeks before the race. | had also realized that | had trained a bit too hard in the weeks after the trials and that my energy level needed time to come up anotch. This is a very subjective matter, but | could tell during my training runs that a bit of zip was missing and it was better to cut back and regain

The key training weeks are those that end with four, three, and two weeks until the second marathon. The most important workouts (see *) during those weeks are the tune-up race with 15 days to go; the long runs with 14, 21, and 28 days to go; the lactate threshold session with 30 days to go; and the medium-long runs with 18 and 24 days until the marathon. Try to avoid doing more than the schedules call for, as eight weeks between marathons doesn’t leave you much room for error.

Four-Week Schedule

The four-week schedule is about as compact as you can get. This program consists of two weeks of recovery merging into two weeks of taper. The objective is to get you to the starting line injury-free, fully recovered from your previous marathon, and still in top shape. The mileage for this program starts at 25 miles and builds to 48 miles during the third week. Unfortunately, that’s also the penultimate week before the marathon, so mileage and intensity building abruptly halt and merge into a taper.

The most important workouts (see *) are the medium—long runs with 10 and 14 days until marathon two, and the VO,max session with 12 days to go. If you need to do two marathons four weeks apart (and “need” is a relative term), then this schedule should maximize your chances of success.

RACING STRATEGIES

Set a clear goal for the second (or third, fourth, etc.) marathon you’re running within a brief time frame. Otherwise, you might very well find yourself a few miles into it already wondering, “What am I doing here?” Being able to state what you want to accomplish in your multiple marathoning will provide en route direction and motivation. The longer that you’ ve allowed between marathons, the more precisely you should be able to state your goals for marathon number two (beyond “to get through it”).

Once you’ ve picked your goal, map out the splits you’ II need to hit. Throughout our book, Advanced Marathoning (from which this article is adapted), we stress the merits of showing restraint early in the marathon to maximize your chances of being able to run a strong second half. That advice is especially

pertinent if you’ve already finished one marathon within the last 12 weeks. Your multiple-marathoning experience will almost certainly become a selffulfilling death march if you run too fast early in the race in the hope of building a cushion against an inevitably slower second half.

Wait until the week before your second marathon to decide on a time goal. Be realistic, taking into account how your recovery from your first one went; the quality of your long runs, tempo runs, and interval sessions in the interim; and whether you’ ve felt your energy level rise during your taper for marathon two.

Also consider the circumstances of your previous marathon. For example, if you ran a huge PR off of negative splits, then there’s probably room for improvement this time around. Or say you wilted over the last 10K the last time around and realize in retrospect that this was because of a too-aggressive first 10 miles; you should be able to make another attempt at your goal time for the first marathon. If, however, you prepared with monk-like devotion for 24 weeks for your previous marathon and shaved three seconds off your lifetime best in your 28th marathon, and your second marathon is four weeks later, well, sorry, but this probably isn’t the time to try for a 10-minute PR.

If you’ve never consciously tried to run a marathon with negative splits, this might be the occasion to do so. Give yourself the first several miles to get an accurate feel for how your body is responding to the challenge you’ ve set for it, and pick up the pace only when you’re fairly confident that you can sustain it to the end.

AFTER THE MARATHON

If you’ve just run two or more marathons within a brief time span, your best strategy for future success is to take a well-deserved break. (You might also want to check what they’ ve been putting in your coffee at work.) A few weeks of no running or easy training will help your body to recover and your mind to develop new challenges. You have little to gain by rushing back into training, and your risk of injury is exceptionally high at this point, owing to the reduced resiliency of your muscles and connective tissue after running multiple marathons.

SCHEDULES

12 Weeks Between Marathons eee

Weeks to go 11 10 9 8 Monday Rest or Rest or Rest or Rest or cross-training cross-training cross-training cross-training Tuesday Rest or Recovery Recovery General aerobic cross-training 5 miles 6 miles + speed 8 miles w/ 10 X 100-meter strides Wednesday Recovery Recovery General aerobic Medium-long run 5 miles 5 miles 9 miles 12 miles Thursday —_ Rest or Rest or Rest or Recovery cross-training cross-training cross-training 4 miles Friday Recovery General aerobic General aerobic _Lactate threshold 5 miles + speed + speed 9 miles w/ 4 7 miles w/ 8 9 miles w/ 8 miles at 15K to x 100-meter x 100-meter half-marathon strides strides race pace Saturday Recovery Recovery Recovery Recovery + speed 5 miles 5 miles 5 miles 5 miles w/ 6 X 100-meter strides Sunday Recovery General aerobic Medium-long run Medium-long run 7 miles 10 miles 13 miles 16 miles Weekly 22 32 42 54 mileage Weeks to go a 6 5 4 Monday Rest or Rest or Rest or Rest or cross-training cross-training cross-training cross-training Tuesday VO,max General aerobic Recovery VO,max 9 miles w/ 6 x + speed 6 miles 9 miles w/ 6 X 800 meters at5K 8 miles w/ 600 meters at race pace; jog 2 10 x 100-meter 5K race pace; minutes between _ strides jog 90 seconds between* Wednesday Recovery Medium-long VO,max Medium—long run 6 miles run 10 miles w/ 4 11 miles* 15 miles x 1200 meters

at 5K race pace; jog 2% minutes between*

Weeks to go

Medium-long run Recovery Medium—long run Recovery + speed

13 miles* 6 miles 15 miles* 6 miles w/ 6 X 100-meter strides Friday General aerobic © Medium-longrun General aerobic Recovery + speed 8 miles w/ 13 miles* 9 miles 5 miles 10 x 100-meter strides Saturday Recovery Recovery + speed — Recovery 8-15K tune-up 6 miles 7 miles w/ 6 x 6 miles race* 100-meter strides Sunday Long run Marathon-specific Long run Long run 18 miles* 15 miles w/ 12 20 miles* 17 miles* miles at marathon race pace* Weekly 60 64 66 59 mileage Weeks to go 3 2 1 Race week Monday Rest or Rest or Rest or Rest cross-training cross-training cross-training Tuesday Recovery VO,max General aerobic + Recovery 6 miles 9 miles w/ 6 + speed 6 miles

x 600 metersat 8 milesw/8 5k race pace; jog x 100-meter

90 seconds strides between Wednesday VO,max Medium-—long run Recovery Dress rehearsal 11 miles w/ 6 11 miles 5 miles 7 miles w/ 2 x 1000 meters at miles at marathon 5K race pace; jog race pace 2 minutes between* Thursday Medium-long run Recovery + speed VO,max Recovery 15 miles* 6 miles w/ 6 x 9 miles w/ 3 6 miles

100-meter strides x 1600 meters at 5K race pace; jog 2 minutes

between Friday General aerobic Recovery Recovery Recovery + speed 9 miles 5 miles 5 miles 5 miles w/ 6 x

100-meter strides

Recovery 6 miles

Long run 20 miles

8-10K tune-up

face*

Long run 17 miles*

* = Key workout in 12-week schedule

General aerobic Recovery

+ speed 4 miles

7 miles w/ 10

x 100-meter strides

Medium-long run Second marathon 13 miles

47 28 (6 days prerace)

8 Weeks Between Marathons

Rest or cross-training

Rest or cross-training

Recovery 5 miles

Rest or cross-training

Recovery 5 miles

Recovery 5 miles

Recovery 7 miles

Rest or cross-training

Recovery 5 miles

Recovery

5 miles

Rest or cross-training General aerobic + speed

7 miles w/8 X 100-meter strides

Recovery 5 miles

General aerobic 10 miles

Pete Pfitzinger and Scott Douglas

Rest or Rest or

cross-training cross-training Recovery General aerobic + 6 miles speed 8 miles w/ 10 x 100-meter strides General aerobic Medium-long run 9 miles 12 miles Rest or Recovery cross-training 4 miles General aerobic —_Lactate threshold + speed 9 miles w/ 5

9 miles w/ 8 x miles at 15K to 100-meter strides half-marathon

race pace* Recovery Recovery + speed 5 miles 5 miles w/ 6 x

100-meter strides

Medium-long run Long run 13 miles 17 miles*

42 55

QUALITY SECONDS 51

eS URES STS RE ST PD ET SS SS

Weeks to go 3 2 1 Race week Monday Rest or Rest or Rest or Rest cross-training cross-training cross-training Tuesday Recovery VO,max General aerobic — Recovery 6 miles 9 miles w/ 6 X + speed 6 miles 600 meters at 8 miles w/ 8 X 5K race pace; jog 100-meter strides 90 seconds between Wednesday VO,max Medium-long run Recovery Dress rehearsal 10 miles w/ 5 x 11 miles* 5 miles 7 miles w/ 2 1000 meters at miles at marathon 5K race pace; jog race pace 2 minutes between Thursday Medium-longrun Recovery + speed VO,max Recovery 15 miles* 6 miles w/ 6 9 miles w/ 3 x 6 miles X 100-meter 1,600 meters at strides 5K race pace; jog 2 minutes between Friday General aerobic Recovery Recovery Recovery + speed 9 miles 5 miles 5 miles 5 miles w/ 6 X 100-meter strides Saturday Recovery 8-10K tune-up Recovery + speed Recovery 5 miles race* 6 miles w/ 8 X 4 miles 100-meter strides Sunday Long run Long run Medium-long run Second marathon 20 miles* 17 miles* 13 miles Weekly 65 59 46 28 (6 days mileage prerace)

* = Key workout in 8-week schedule

4 Weeks Between Marathons

Weeks to go 3 2 1 Race week Monday Rest or Rest or Rest or Rest cross-training cross-training cross-training Tuesday Rest or Recovery VO,max Recovery cross-training 6 miles 8 miles w/ 5 6 miles

x 800 meters at 5K race pace; jog 2 minutes between*

Weeks to go

3 Z 1 Race week Wednesday Recovery General aerobic Recovery Dress rehearsal 5 miles 8 miles 5 miles 7 miles w/ 2 miles at marathon race pace Thursday —_ Rest or Rest or Medium-long run Recovery cross-training cross-training 15 miles* 6 miles Friday Recovery General aerobic Recovery Recovery + speed 6 miles + speed 4 miles 5 miles w/ 6 8 miles w/8 x x 100-meter 100-meter strides strides Saturday Recovery Recovery Recovery + speed Recovery 6 miles 5 miles 5 miles w/ 8 x 4 miles 100-meter strides Sunday General aerobic Medium-long run Medium-ong run Second marathon 8 miles 12 miles* 11 miles Weekly 25 39 48 28 (6 days mileage pre-race)

* = Key workout in 4-week schedule

ics, 2001) by Pete Pfitzinger and Scott Douglas. For ordering information, go to

This article was adapted with permission from Advanced Marathoning (Human Kinet- RE. www.humankinetics.com.

Do your shorts go the distance?

Long Distance Shorts eee oon

So unique, they earned a patent. Compartments @ Plus Two SAFE Pockets (left & right)

Now available in 5 styles, including tights!

CoolMax®, a DuPont Performance Fabric, is made from four- channel fibers that draw perspiration from the skin and allow it to evaporate rapidly. This combination of wicking and evaporation keeps the body dry and comfortable and is suitable for year-round use. CoolMax is soft, nonchafing, and washes easily. CooLMaX MICROMOVE- US. Patent Prateecrmae El KYAT tm ART eT ALT

Mitsre rer

Matters of the Sole

Forget All They’ve Taught You About Running Shoes—Often, Less Is Truly More.

ANT TO cut way down on your running injuries while saving money and maybe even going faster?

Sounds great, eh? A bit too good to be true? Maybe you’re thinking ’’m going to offer you some cold nuclear fusion in a jar at the same time? Sorry, I can’t help you with that, but easier, healthier, and faster running may be just one step—one big step—away.

My suggestion will require you to rethink your relationship to your running shoes. Fact is, if you’re chronically injured, it may be your shoes that are getting you. That’s right: those Gel Grid Omni Max Beasts, the pair of shoes you took out a second mortgage to buy and which supposedly cushion, support, and correct pronation and supination while doing your taxes and children’s homework—well, it could be those beasts are doing none of those things. What they might be doing is contributing to your injury problems and slowing you down.

Impossible, you say. Modern running shoes allow more people to run more injury-free miles than ever before. It says so in all the big running magazines. The owner of your local running specialty shop says so, too, as do all the shoe companies.

But ask yourself what evidence the companies and shop proprietors offer. They’re making a health claim. And makers of products that claim to improve your health and well-being, from aromatherapy to zinc, love showing hard data that validate their claims.

Ever see a shoe ad that quotes a study showing that the Gel Omni Etcs. really do reduce injuries and improve performance? Not likely. If such studies exist, they’re well hidden. But there are studies that show the opposite . . . but, wait, I’m getting ahead of myself.

SOME HISTORY

As runners go, I’m big: 5’11”, 185ish. P’ve also run over 135,000 miles, with only one really serious “overuse” injury. At least 134,000 of those miles were run in shoes that by contemporary standards are inadequate. I began running in 1967 as a member of my high school track team. “Running shoes” in those days were whatever shoes you happened to run in—usually a pair of sneakers that were also your baseball/basketball/football/mowing-the-lawn/roamingaround-the-neighborhood shoes. They worked okay but wore out quickly.

I was given my first “real” running shoes when I joined my college crosscountry team: a model from Converse with a hard rubber sole and a black canvas upper. Durability was the shoe’s middle name—probably its first and last names, too. “Rockfinder’ should have been its nickname.

Eventually I moved along to shoes from Puma and Adidas. Then came the Cortez, perhaps the first mass-market eae running shoe. Made by both Tiger (now —y Asics) and Nike (now Nike), the Cortez iin, & had a lighter, spongier sole than other running shoes and either a white leather $§£§$7#FA27—#JH—_———”. or blue nylon upper. I recall paying The Cortez, the first mass-market run- $19.95 for them. The Cortez’s selling 7/79 shoe. points were durability, improved cushioning, and low price. A Tiger ad claimed that a pair could take you from New York to Los Angeles.

Few claims were made for injury prevention. Most runners in those days ran for high school or college teams and were young and resilient. A couple days off usually cleared up any running injury. Training largely consisted of interval sessions on the track. I recall a stretch of time when we did 10 or 11 such sessions a week. Injuries were somewhat coveted, providing a respite from the drudgery of endless interval work.

Eventually, this changed. Older runners took up the sport. College runners continued running after graduation, but on their own terms, mostly away from the track.

“Stop running” was the standard medical advice given to injured runners, and it was met with increasing dissatisfaction. As the number of people who ran increased, medical people took up the sport. Many of them looked for ways to reduce the downtime injured runners suffered. George Sheehan, in his medical advice column in Runner’s World, claimed that injuries to the back, knee, shin, and so on were the result of stresses caused by improper foot placement. He advised runners to find “sports podiatrists” who generally made inserts— orthotics—that were supposed to force the feet into proper placement.

Richard Englehart MATTERS OF THE SOLE mm 55

Runners flocked to podiatrists who showed some interest in the sport. The office visits were usually covered by health insurance, but the orthotics, costing between $150 and $300 at a time when an expensive pair of running shoes cost $30, were paid for out of pocket. (Just a guess, but the modern running shoe industry was likely born on the day that a shoe company executive decided that runners who’d pay $300 for orthotics might pay $80 for a shoe that did what the orthotics did.)

No longer was arunning shoe an implement that provided some cushioning while preventing lost blood if you ran over a nail or bits of broken glass. The shoe became a corrective device, and companies competed to develop the most corrective and protective shoes possible as a means of supremacy. Nike ran an ad showing a semi-crazed character in a white coat standing in a Frankensteinish-looking laboratory. On the wall behind him dangled skeletons in running shoes. The caption read: “Our Lab is Bigger than their Lab.”

Etonic hired a sports podiatrist to design their line of running shoes. Soles filled up with gel, air, grids, Flubber™, and who knows what else.

The message from almost all shoe companies was that your feet and lower legs are fragile and unlikely to hold up under the stress of distance running, so we’ll make shoes that will provide the protection that evolution didn’t.

BUT | WAS MOSTLY OBLIVIOUS

I spent the 1970s ignoring the wave of protection that was breaking out all around me. Injuries had never been a problem. The ones I suffered followed times when I decided to get serious about stretching, and they went away when I stopped stretching.

I trained in Cortez-like shoes for the whole decade and raced in the racing flats of the time: the Marathon from Tiger and Nike or its slightly (and I do mean slightly) beefier cousin, the Boston. The Marathon had a blue nylon upper and a sole consisting of about a half inch of rubber. It put the “flat” into racing flat. The Boston looked similar but had a tiny piece of extra cushioning under the heel.

The only shoe-related problem I had was a deadness in my legs in the late stages of long races, which I attributed to a poor adjustment to the switch from training flats to racing flats. So when racer/trainer hybrids came out, I ran in those. Or I’d buy “entry level” shoes at discount stores. Marketed for lowmileage runners, I was a bit self-conscious about using them to run 80 to 110 miles a week, but they reminded me of the old Cortez, a piece of spongy rubber attached to an upper. I ran happily in such shoes, oblivious to the warnings of impending disaster that I received from shoe experts who claimed that someAdidas Marathon

Nike Boston Tiger Nairobi

Some of the popular running shoes in the 1970s.

one as big as I am, running as many miles as I did in light, cheap shoes, was courting disaster.

MY LUCK SEEMS TO RUN OUT

By 1993 [had passed 40 and decided that because I was old I should pay more attention to flexibility. So I began another try at stretching; my right knee started to hurt and continued to for months. This time the pain didn’t go away when I stopped stretching, and it got worse at the midpoint of a summer 10mile race.

I decided that my luck with light, cheap shoes had run out. I bought a good, protective, high-tech model. I got immediate results. The pain intensified so much that I went to a doctor. He diagnosed a bad case of runner’s knee and told me I’d need a couple months off.

Naturally I ignored him and hobbled on for a painful 10 or 15 minutes each day, wondering how much worse the pain would be if I hadn’t switched to the high-tech shoes. Then it dawned on me that I was being really stupid. If the pain got worse when I switched to heavier, more protective shoes, then it must be the weight or protection that was causing the trouble.

So I looked for the least protective footwear I could find. I dragged a generic “aqua-sock” out of the closet and ran three pain-free miles in them, stopping only because I didn’t want to press my luck.

A few more runs in the aqua-socks were problem-free, though my feet bottoms were getting sore. I moved into racing flats. There was some tenderness, but I managed six to eight miles a day, and the tenderness went away. By mid-October I was back to my usual 85 miles a week with no pain.

Still believing that racing flats were inadequate for daily runs over the long haul, I switched back to my hybrids. Over the next few years the problem would return periodically, and I’d switch to racing flats until it went away. Finally, it made no sense to switch from shoes that solved the problem to shoes that caused the problem. I decided to run in racing shoes all the time until there was a good reason not to. That was over four years ago.

THEY’D AGREE

For a time I thought that my shoe reaction was just a personal quirk, but I learned there were others like myself. Joe Henderson was once editor of Runner’s World (1970-77), then of Running (long since defunct), and he is now editor and publisher of Running Commentary and a columnist for Runner’s World. He has also written 22 books on running. But perhaps the best term to describe Joe is the one he most cherishes: “running survivor.” He’s run continuously since the 1950s, though it’s not always easy for him. His feet and lower legs are sometimes problematic and limit the amount of running he can do.

This should make him a devoted customer of high-tech, protective footwear. But running in such shoes feels “awkward, bulky, and stiff ” to Joe. He can list a long injury history but has found that protective shoes have aggravated his problems far more often than they’ ve alleviated them. Now he buys the lightest all-purpose models he can find, using the same shoes for races and daily runs. He looks for “plenty of forefoot flexibility; heels of single-density material; and a quiet, rather than a slapping, run… my preference has always been to run as close to naked as possible, to feel in touch with the ground.”

But Joe will admit that he doesn’t do a lot of distance. Perhaps he’s able to get by in “low-mileage” shoes. The same can’t be said of Gordon Pirie.

Pirie, an Englishman, was the silver medalist at 5000 meters in the 1956 Olympic Games. He “retired” from high-level competition in 1961, but he never really left the sport or developed a career. Instead, he continued to train seriously for the rest of his life, coaching other runners and taking whatever jobs he could find until he’d saved enough money to race on the summer track season in both the Northern and Southern hemispheres.

Before his death in 1991 he ran well over 200,000 miles, which according to Guinness is the world record. Near the end of his life Pirie wrote Running Fast and Injury Free, a how-to manual for runners at all levels.

In the book, Pirie is very critical of modern running shoes, claiming that they increase the likelihood of injuries by promoting improper technique and that they slow runners down. He claims to have coached a 58-year-old marathoner whose best time improved from 3:28 to 2:58 simply by getting the

runner into proper shoes. He advised runners to run in the lightest shoes they could find.

The end of Pirie’s international career came at the time that Arthur Lydiard’s New Zealanders began to dominate the running world. The two men were evidently not fans of one another. Lydiard frequently remarked that Pirie was an athlete who usually failed in major competitions because he didn’t know how to bring himself to a peak.

THE BEST OF ENEMIES

One day Pirie was running through a park with a friend who said he’d been reading and enjoying Lydiard’s book. “You know where you can put that,” Pirie replied, pointing opportunistically at a trash can they were passing.

But the two adversaries have similar opinions about running shoes.

In Running to the Top, Lydiard, once a shoemaker, argues that modern, high-tech running shoes are too bulky and inflexible. The shoes are “more like gumboots and you might as well run in gumboots as in some of these high-tech monsters.”

And the pronation and supination that the shoes are built to prevent, Lydiard says, actually cause the problem. Have someone run down the hall in bare feet, he claims, and you’ll never see them pronate or supinate. That happens when they put on shoes. The ideal running shoe should be “light and flexible, more like a slipper,” Lydiard concludes.

Anne Audain of New Zealand won the gold medal at 3000 meters at the 1982 British Commonwealth Games. She was silver medalist at the 10,000 meters at the 1986 Commonwealth Games and was one-time world recordholder at 5,000 meters and a 2:32 marathoner. She has won more road races than any other woman in history. Originally coached by Gordon Pirie, she switched to John Davies, one of Lydiard’s athletes, when she concluded that Pirie’s coaching was not working.

She began running “on my toes in bare feet,” as therapy, on doctor’s orders, to strengthen her feet. Anne was born with severely deformed feet and endured aseries of painful surgeries to correct them. Conventional thinking would have her running in the most protective shoes she could find. But she always trained in her racing flats. Conventional training flats made running more difficult, slowing her by “as much as a minute per mile,” a figure that roughly matches the improvement made by Gordon Pirie’s shoe-changing marathoner. “I was with Nike for 14 years,” Anne said. “I always ran in my racing shoes and had no problems until they started putting air in the shoes.” Then the shoes became “., . too soft. I had them continue making my old racers. I need to feel the ground under my feet.”

Yet another Kiwi, Jack Foster, agrees. Foster, a silver medalist at the Commonwealth Games and a 2:11 marathoner at age 41, began running before there were running shoes available. He ran over the sheeplands near his home in Rotorua in light, flexible shoes that he says helped develop a proper stride. The foot, not the shoe, provided protection and shock absorption. Later, as a world-class marathoner and something of a phenomenon because of what he calls “the age thing,” he began receiving shoes for free. He did all of his running in racers and amassed such a stockpile of shoes that even today, 19 years after his last serious race, he’s still running in the old Tiger Marathon. He repeats a familiar refrain: “I need to feel the ground when I run.”

“That comment, ‘feel the surface,’ is exactly what Japanese runners and coaches say,” says Nobby Hashizume. Once a coach for a corporate running team in Japan, Nobby now lives in Minnesota and keeps a sharp eye on our sport.

“Tn a long race like the marathon, you want to conserve energy. The best way is to ‘glide,’ not ‘bounce,’” he adds. He says that some top American runners bounce too much and would likely be comfortable in cushioned shoes. But they tire by the end of the race. “There’s action and reaction,” Nobby argues. “If the shoe has enough cushion to alleviate the shock of landing, it must also be alleviating the ‘push’ when your foot is taking off.”

He mentions Yoshio Kiode, coach of Olympic marathon champion Naoko Takahashi, who believes that running on trails in racing flats serves as a foot massage. Then he quotes Arthur Lydiard: “If you have weak spots you’ ve got to strengthen them, not support them, or they’ ll get weaker.”

Another Lydiard protégé and Olympic marathoner, the late Ron Daws, was a shoe-tinkerer. In his book The Self-Made Olympian, he writes, “Many shoes have too much cushioning, and this causes injuries for the same reason that training in sand or loose snow does. When the foot lands and drives off, it needs something to push against to be effective. . . . Trying to run fast off mush is like trying to dribble a basketball on a mattress. All the energy is absorbed.”

SOME RESEARCH FINDINGS

As mentioned earlier, running shoe ads tend to describe what shoes are designed to do, rather than what they’re shown to do. It’s difficult to find independent studies corroborating the injury-reducing benefits of modern running shoes.

Ask Dr. Steve Robbins of Montreal why that is and he tells you unhesitatingly: “They don’t exist.” About 20 years ago, Robbins, an internist, was working at a Montreal sportsmedicine clinic frequented by runners. “A lot

of them were having what came to be called ‘overuse injuries,” Robbins reports. “But you couldn’t really call them that because the people with them weren’t really doing much.”

So Dr. Robbins began studying feet, running shoes, and what happens when you combine the two. Writing with Gerard Couw in Medicine and Science in Sports and Exercise in 1991, he wrote: “Wearers of expensive running shoes that are promoted as having additional features that protect (e.g., more cushioning, pronation correction) are injured significantly more frequently than runners employing inexpensive shoes (costing less than US$40).”

Robbins argues that the best way to run is in bare feet. He disagrees completely with the notion that the feet and lower leg are fragile and require a great deal of protection. Instead, he argues, feet have evolved for eons to do the jobs of running and walking and have a great deal of inborn protection. But for this protective system to work, the foot needs feedback; it needs to “feel the ground.” Inserting thick layers of protection between the foot bottom and the ground blocks this feedback and neutralizes our natural injury-prevention mechanisms. The cushioned shoe “feels great” and creates the illusion of protection, but it actually increases the amount of impact the runner generates with each stride.

At one time Robbins attached impact sensors to the bottoms of the feet of a group of runners and a group of gymnasts. Then he measured the impact each group experienced when running in cushioned shoes or performing on thickly cushioned mats and compared it with the impact experienced when running in or performing on less cushioning. With more cushioning, he found, came more impact.

“What your foot needs is balance and stability,” Robbins explains. Add a lot of cushioning and you’ll slam your foot into the ground harder as you try to generate that stability.

But if you run barefoot, you’ll quickly develop an efficient, low-impact stride, because if you don’t “it’ll hurt like hell.” Many runners from Africa, notes Robbins, begin their careers running barefoot because they grow up in warm climates and often can’t afford shoes. Barefoot running restricts the sort of running Africans can do in their developmental years, says Robbins. Necessarily, the Africans initially run easy and develop a low-impact stride that later on allows them to run high mileage.

“You’ ve got to run at least a hundred miles a week to get really good,” notes Dr. Robbins, “but in the West when we find a kid with running potential, what do we do? We put him in well-cushioned shoes and make him run fast. Then when these kids try to do big mileage, they get injured.” The few who don’t are exceptional. “The decline of western running,” he says, “parallels the development of the modern running shoe.”

Though he recommends barefoot running, Dr. Robbins recognizes that it’s not possible for everyone. Asked what is available on the market that the general running public should use, he answers quickly: “Racing shoes.” But, he goes on: “Not all racing shoes are good. Many of them now are made more like trainers and incorporate a lot of resilient materials. They have a lot of ‘boing.’ Boing is what you want to avoid.”

Oh, and what about pronation and supination and the need to correct them? “That’s bullshit,” Robbins answers. “The shoes cause those things.”

SO WHAT’S GOING ON HERE?

There are many others I could quote who would agree with the ideas expressed above, but enough is enough. Interestingly, when I’ve mentioned to running friends that I’m writing an article suggesting that simple, light, running shoes are better than expensive high-tech ones, they have said they found the same thing to be true. Anne Audain read me a Nike ad from a women’s fashion magazine. The ad describes the advantages of Nike’s latest high-tech shoe but also mentioned that the Pegasus is being reintroduced because Nike received thousands of messages of protest when it was discontinued.

“The point,” Anne goes on, “is that people loved the Pegasus. And there’s nothing to it.”

Indeed, the Pegasus is perhaps the high-profile trainer that comes closest to meeting Arthur Lydiard’s criteria for a good running shoe: a piece of rubber attached to an upper. But if simple light shoes are so much better, why do so few companies sell and promote them?

It’s easy to think conspiratorially and conclude that we’re being sold expensive shoes because they turn a higher profit than cheaper shoes, so let’s start with that premise. If the old Cortez were still on the market, its price having tripled over time, and giving people the promised 3000 miles before it met its Cobbler, most modern runners would need a new pair every year or two. If you owned a running shoe company or a specialty shop, wouldn’t you rather sell a customer three to six pairs of $90 shoes in a year than one $60 pair? And the research and development departments at shoe companies can’t simply trot out new color schemes for existing models and expect to earn their keep. They need to show that they’re improving the product.

Can you be confident that you’re getting honest, unbiased information about running shoes when the greatest source of product information, the running magazines, get most of their advertising revenue from the shoe companies? It’s a tricky situation. J.D. Denton, the “Shoe Guy” for Running Times, owns a specialty shop. In a way, that makes him the ideal person to write a monthly column about shoes. He works with them every day. He knows the

product and the market. But I’m never surprised when he writes that runners shouldn’t let price be a factor in shoe selection and should be sure to replace shoes fairly frequently.

IS SIMPLE BETTER?

But even if a company or specialty shop commits to producing and marketing a line of simple, light shoes, there’s a good chance they’d take a financial beating. “More is better” has been an integral part of our running shoe landscape for a long time. Tell gimpy-legged runners to get rid of as much shoe cushioning as possible, and they’ Il tell you you’re crazy. In fact, I suspect that my entire audience has dismissed this article as the work of a crackpot and stopped reading it pages ago, which means that, uh . . . no, never mind. Joe Henderson, who meets more runners than most of us, finds that runners generally won’t believe a simpler shoe can be better.

Many products, after all, improve with research and development. Your car is better in almost every quantitative way than your old 1962 VW Beetle or 1971 Chevy Nova. You wouldn’t buy a TV that required you to get up and walk to it to change the volume or channels. Why wouldn’t newer shoe models reflect this same level of improvement?

The anthropologist Gregory Bateson once described a “set of unstated presuppositions,” an assembly of memories and beliefs that everyone develops, as an almost instantaneous way of making sense of new information.

This cognitive structure, Bateson pointed out, is self-reinforcing, admitting information consistent with itself and filtering a large amount of contradictory information. Once the set of presuppositions is in place, people tend to interpret new information in a way that confirms the set of assumptions, regardless of what that information is. For example, parents who believe that spanking is anecessary response to an unruly child will likely attribute decreased unruliness to the effects of spanking, thus confirming their beliefs. But if the unruliness persists despite the spanking, the parents are likely to conclude that the child is terribly unruly and would be unbearably so if not for the mitigating effects of the spankings.

Injured runners who find pain reduced after using a high-tech shoe will likely attribute the improvement to the shoe. But if the pain is unaffected or aggravated, they’ ll likely believe that they have a serious problem, that without the high-tech shoe things would be even worse, and that they need to keep looking for the high-tech shoe that will solve the problem.

But sometimes someone gets a product right the first time and there is no need, or way, to improve it. Rubber bands and shoelaces come to mind. Perhaps running shoes belong on this list, or on a list of things that were gotten right in one of the earlier tries.

For the consumer of light, flexible running shoes, the market is not a total wasteland. Everyone mentioned in this article has found satisfactory shoes, produced by the mainstream shoe manufacturers. But the shoes we wear are not the ones that get the most promotion and marketing. If you buy them from a specialty shop, you’ ll eventually be told that you’re making a mistake.

Buy the shoes anyway. You’ ll save some money, and you might run faster. As you learn to run in the shoes, your risk of injury will decrease even if the shoes don’t feel as wonderful as your usual high-tech model does. And if it turns out I’m wrong and you go back to your usual expensive shoes, —__ you’ ll at least have proved to yourself that all the money you’ve spent Pg on shoes hasn’t been wasted. ;

AV KSAT aE

chenlbe sil dal

Marathon HalfMarathon & 5K

Saturday, 2 February 20

4 A Tree Grows “. in Myrtle Beach

Some Marathons Never Reach Their Stride, While Others Come Complete With Pink Ribbons.

I FA picture paints a thousand words, then a marathon must truly create a thousand pictures. The 26.2 miles of canvas unfolds just a little bit differently for every running artist, and each portrait painted ends up as distinct as the runner who draws it. Colors vary widely from one rendition to the next.

Ihave been invited to pick up my writing palette and create a color story on the Myrtle Beach Marathon, which is once again rapidly approaching. As I stare at the blank canvas and ponder what colors to select, all I see is pink. I can’t think of the Myrtle Beach Marathon without seeing pink around every corner.

* ES ES

As the cross streets started climbing through the 40s to the low 50s, I felt a lump in my throat and a tear in my eye as I encountered my most emotional feelings of the race. I knew I’d soon be passing Caroline’s tree at 56th and Ocean Boulevard. Caroline was the wife of a friend of ours who had lost her long and painful battle with cancer just before the holidays. Her husband Doug is a local Atlanta runner and a member of the international running group known as The Penguin Brigade. My wife Harriet and I see him often at local races and have always enjoyed our visits. We had met Caroline only once, at the Atlanta Marathon expo about a month before her death. We are both very thankful for that meeting.

On Friday, the day before the race, a large gathering from The Penguin Brigade had gone down to Caroline’s tree and decorated it in pink. One of the newer members, Michael Spring, had made a lovely wreath, which was placed at the base of the tree. As we remembered her, we covered the young and sturdy palm tree with bright pink ribbons. Race director Nancy O’Connor and the City of Myrtle Beach were very kind to have honored Caroline with this tree. We cried, we hugged, and in a special way, we knew she was with us.

Michael Selman A TREE GROWS IN MYRTLE BEACH @® 65

As I turned down 56th Street and then north on Ocean Boulevard—somewhere between miles 16 and 17, if I remember correctly—I could see the tree, still adorned with a swarm of pink ribbons, and I knew that Caroline was urging me on. As I ran by, I said a short prayer and said to myself, “Caroline, same time, next year.”

* * *

I wrote the above excerpt as part of my race report after a very emotional Myrtle Beach Marathon two years ago. Every runner who ran the full Myrtle Beach Marathon in 2000, as those who ran it earlier this year, passed Caroline’s tree, which was decked out in pink ribbons. Most runners probably never even noticed it as they struggled by, and others who may have noticed the ribbons no doubt quickly turned their thoughts back to how much farther up Ocean Boulevard the next water stop would be. In the midst of a marathon, small details along the course quickly fade into obscurity. But for those who actually placed the ribbons on the tree the previous day, many stopped to touch it and say a prayer as they ran by. Very few outside of the Brigade have known the story behind the pink ribbons until now.

But to fully understand the tree and the ribbons, it helps to understand some of the early evolution of this race and the groundwork that had been laid even before that first Myrtle Beach Marathon, as this was when the seed of Caroline’s tree was planted.

THE BIRTH OF THE RACE

The Myrtle Beach celebration of running is truly within reach of just about anyone who runs. It features a generous eight-hour cutoff time for the marathon, as well as a concurrently run five-person marathon relay event. This makes marathon participation as easily accessible as the city itself to almost anyone who wants to be a part of the festivities. This is by design, not by accident, says Nancy O’Connor, who along with Shaun Walsh, founded the race and then directed the first Myrtle Beach Marathon.

Nancy, who is a parks superintendent for the city of Myrtle Beach and a 4:00-to-4:30 marathoner herself, set out with the intention of creating the type of race that she would personally be attracted to. She wanted to create a race that could showcase the city to a more “nontraditional” clientele than the usual golfer/beach-bum variety. At the same time, she wanted to showcase the running community to the people of Myrtle Beach.

The local Myrtle Beach community can be a tough critic. “What a lot of people don’t know about Myrtle Beach,” says O’Connor, “is that you have to prove yourself here before you’ ll be welcomed back.” With that in mind, she set off to create a race that was friendly to the community as well as to the runners.

thon, while attending the Marine Corps Marathon, Nancy and Shaun discussed their Myrtle Beach vision with John Bingham, a.k.a. the “Penguin,” of Runner’s World fame. Nancy knew she could count on John to give her some good insights on how to cater a race with an emphasis on accommodating middleto back-of-the-pack runners, as well as first-time marathoners.

Several years earlier, John had founded an Internet e-mail group known as “The Penguin Brigade.” The group was made up largely of slower runners who had no excuses or apologies for their slowness and who shared a strong determination to participate no matter how slowly they progressed.

The Brigade had chosen Marine Corps as a place to establish their initial “encounter,” mainly because Marine Corps was a people’s race with a very generous time limit and marathon support specifically designed to accommodate slower runners.

The members of the Brigade were easily identifiable by their supportive and outgoing personalities. But since this was an Internet group, they needed amore physical way to recognize each other in a maze of 20,000 other runners. For this, they relied on their bright pink Penguin Brigade hats.

John, along with his wife Karen, listened to Nancy’s ideas for Myrtle Beach and agreed to become involved in the inaugural event. Before the Marine Corps encounter adjourned, John bounced some thoughts off some of the Brigade members and asked for ideas for a Penguin presence at Myrtle Beach. Before leaving D.C. to head back to their home in Robards, Kentucky, two members of the Brigade, Dave and Andrea Hames, took immediate charge, volunteering to be the first official Penguin hosts of the Myrtle Beach Marathon encounter.

Due to the considerable chatter and promotion within the group list, in midwhat has become the Myrtle Beach battle cry. This swarming of Penguins included several relay teams, as well as a few first-time marathoners. Pink hats were everywhere. Many Penguins had never met others from the group before this meeting, and all left the beach after the weekend with many new friends. The encounter was a resounding success and had a long-lasting effect on many from the group—but it had a very special meaning for one couple in particular.

Doug Reineke had learned of the group through exploring the Internet, and he knew right away that this was a group he could feel at home with. They were slow, they enjoyed having a good time, and they were unusually supportive of each other. Many seemed to relish others’ victories even more than their own. So he took the chance and headed down to Myrtle Beach, accompanied by his wife Caroline, to run the marathon relay and meet an entire on-line community for the first time.

Michael Selman A TREE GROWS IN MYRTLE BEACH Mi 67

Caroline was not a runner. She was, in fact, quite ill. She had been battling various forms of cancer for nearly 20 years, and with the exception of a five-year period of remission, she was in severe and constant pain as the disease ravaged her body. But she never allowed her condition to defeat her spirit. In 1977, her doctors had told her she only had a 10 percent chance of surviving the year. She proved them wrong then and many times over.

That first encounter meant the world to Doug and Caroline. The whole group took to Caroline immediately and, without hesitation, adopted her as an honorary Penguin. It was an unusual feeling for Caroline to feel such an accepted part of a group she figured to have nothing in common with, and she appreciated the warmth of this special group of runners.

The weekend helped her understand Doug’s gratitude toward the group, too. And this understanding helped Doug feel better about going for his daily runs. He felt less guilty about leaving Caroline at home while he did what he needed to do to refresh his soul so that he could be better for her. They left Myrtle Beach changed people.

*yatie BEACH

Doug and Caroline Reineke at the inaugural Myrtle Beach Marathon in 1998.

THE BIRTH OF THE CUP

At some point between the first and second year, John Bingham came up with the idea of a Penguin Cup specifically for those penguins wishing to run the marathon relay. He and Karen discussed the idea with O’Connor and Walsh, who readily agreed to add a separate “Penguin” relay category to the race in 1999, complete with special awards, and to introduce the Penguin Cup Challenge, a special event within the event for Penguin relay teams only. This was not a race to see who was fleetest of foot; rather, it was a “prediction run,” where each team had to guesstimate their cumulative marathon time, and then run, or waddle—as the case may be—the marathon relay without a watch. My wife Harriet and I were recruited by a group member living in Arizona, Liz Itter, to join forces with her, Mary DeMattia, and Corey Waters. Together, the five of us became Team Go Amy, one of at least 10 relay teams who took part in the inaugural event. We boldly predicted that we could run the relay in

3:48:50. That was a pretty aggressive Penguin time, but we felt it was within our grasp.

The cup, in principle, was similar to hockey’s Stanley Cup. Each year, all the members of the winning team would have their names inscribed on a tile, which would then be affixed to the base of the cup, and each new year, an additional tile would be added with the new winning team members’ names. During the year, the cup would rotate among the winning team’s members.

Although there was a lot of e-mail trash talking within the Penguin camp leading up to the first Penguin Cup Challenge, it was all in good-natured fun. Have a look at the “official” rules for the inaugural event, which were posted by Karen Bingham:

Teams must be registered in the Penguin category of the relay.

The Team Captain must submit time predictions for EACH leg and for the TOTAL time. A form for this may be picked up in the Team Penguin booth in the marathon expo and must be submitted to Karen Bingham no later than 8:00 p.m. on Friday, February 26, 1999.

Relay runners must run WITHOUT their watches. Judges disguised as ordinary runners will be on the course to enforce this. Should watches be discovered, they will be confiscated on the spot and given to Head Judge Ma Bingham (John’s mother). (Thereafter, it will be up to you to see if you can get your watch back from Ma B.)

In addition, runners must not alter their stride while approaching their relay handoff point or the finish. Anyone judged as having artificially adjusted stride will receive a one-minute penalty. The ruling of Head Judge Ma Bingham will be final in such cases. (Trust me, you’re not going to want to argue with her, anyway.)

In the event of a tie, the winning team will be determined by the leg time predictions for the first leg, then the second, and so on.

The Penguin Cup will be presented at the Marathon awards ceremony. The winning team is expected to defend their title and return the Cup at next year’s Myrtle Beach Marathon on February 19, 2000.

MEET THE CHALLENGE!!!

As it turned out, we ran the race slightly quicker than we’d projected, finishing in 3:48:48. I thought that missing a marathon prediction time by a mere two seconds was pretty darn good, and the judges agreed. Team Go Amy won the

Michael Selman A TREE GROWS IN MYRTLE BEACH i 69

inaugural Penguin Cup Challenge. And the bond between the Penguin Brigade and the Myrtle Beach Marathon grew even tighter.

Harriet and I decided to return to Myrtle Beach the following year. We loved the atmosphere of the race and had been pleasantly surprised by how desirable it was to spend time in Myrtle Beach in February. This may be one of the best-kept secrets in vacation travel, but Myrtle Beach in February is fantastic. The crowds are down, the weather is good, and just about every restaurant has an all-you-can-eat buffet. What more could you want? It was initially the pull of the Calabash seafood buffet that had us salivating to return to the Grand Strand.

Late that November, while Harriet and I were manning the booth for the Chattahoochee Road Runners Club at the Atlanta Marathon expo, we saw Doug and Caroline passing through with some of their friends and family, and they stopped to chat. We had never met Caroline, but she instantly struck us as a gentle and sweet yet strong and determined person. She also was looking very frail.

We talked eagerly about Myrtle Beach and how much we were looking forward to stormin’ the beach again in mid-February. It was less than three months away. As we finished our visit, we bid our farewells, agreeing to visit again at Myrtle Beach.

THE BIRTH OF CAROLINE’S TREE

But in late December, Doug sent a brief and heartbreaking e-mail to the Penguin Brigade: “Caroline has crossed that final finish line. I miss her already.”

Doug felt it was important to tell the brigade of Caroline’s death immediately, and so he sent his message on the same day she passed away. The poignant message had an immediate impact on the hundreds of us who received it.

Caroline loved the Brigade, and the Brigade loved Caroline. Doug saw this massive Internet group as family. Within a week of sending the message, he had received over 100 e-mail responses and over 100 cards of sympathy. For many of us, losing Caroline was truly like losing a member of the family

Many in the group wanted to honor Caroline and keep her memory alive, but initially no one was quite sure how. What they did know was that Myrtle Beach was where she needed to be honored. This was the event where Doug and Caroline had first met other members of the group, and the experience had touched their lives. The event was again rapidly approaching. As usual, a large army of pink hats would be stormin’ the beach just a couple of short months later.

John and Karen Bingham once again got in touch with Nancy O’Connor, this time to discuss a way of honoring Caroline at Myrtle Beach. As had always been the case in the past, Nancy worked her magic. She shared with the Binghams that there was a memorial park located right along the race course. A tree could be planted in a location that would place it in view of all the runners as they passed.

Karen and John were elated with the idea but wanted to clear it with Doug. Karen sent him an e-mail to be sure he had no objections to the idea. Doug read the e-mail and was moved to tears. He could not believe that a group of people he had only met once or twice in his life would rally behind him with such force. Without hesitation, he gave his unconditional approval of the idea.

Ashort time later, Nancy O’Connor contacted Doug to discuss specifics of the tree. Doug thought of Caroline and how she had defied her death sentence for close to 20 years. He thought of how, despite perpetual pain, she always had a smile and a positive attitude. He said not to plant anything willowy or easily bent. She was tough, and her tree needed to be tough. A palm tree represented Caroline’s attributes well. The tree was planted a short time later.

So on February 18, 2000, a flock of Penguins once again stormed the beach, this time with a special focus. We wound our way north on Ocean Boulevard and found the tree that the city of Myrtle Beach had graciously planted in honor of Caroline. We all locked arms and remembered her. In a special way, we knew she was with us.

Early the next morning, we ran. Team Go Amy did not defend their Penguin Cup Challenge that year. But the new keepers of the cup were proud members of Team Penguin Brigade—Charlie Company. And the proudest member of that team had to be Doug Reineke.

Caroline’s tree at sunrise on Ocean Boulevard along the Myrtle Beach Marathon course.

Members of John Bingham’s Penguin Brigade at Caroline’s tree before the 2000 Myrtle Beach Marathon.

If you ever find your way to Myrtle Beach to run the marathon (and I would strongly recommend it), keep your eyes open as you make a right turn onto 56th Street and then turn north on Ocean. As you pass the sturdy palm tree covered with little pink ribbons to your right, know that Caroline is right there, cheering you on.

Thanks, Caroline. Same time, next year.

For more information about he Penge : visit ae CO.

visit hy teas earethon a or

Arcs Fa. 5 ye oe

TO SIGN UP \ Mi Tel. 33 (0)1 41 33 15 68 – Fax 33 (0)1 41 33 15 69 – www.parismarathon.com

j CAISSE D’EPARGNE

Run New Orleans FEBRUARY 17, 2002

Nokia Sugar Bow Mardi Gras Marathon

MARATHON RELAY – HALE MARATHON – 5k

(504) 454-8687

www.mardigrasmarathon.com

The only suspension system that’s more sophisticated comes with leather seats.

Performance demands innovation. \ An innovation like } the New Balance Suspension System.

But we push

technology further with | our new, amazingly

if responsive N-ergy S.C. System™ }

It combines cushioning, stability }

\\ and energy management \\_ as never before.

Why a system? \

/ Because no single technology \

{ meets all the needs of ==

| serious runners. The foundation J

\ of the system is extraordinary Cushioning provided bya /

\ C-Cap® Midsole.

Stability must extend \\ beyond the rear foot. The Stability Web® supports} the midfoot and helps control tor- } sional stresses as you j move from heel-strike 7

totoe-off. 7

High-speed running \ \

/ shifts impact forces forward, \

so we place a full bed of + shock-absorbing Abzorh® —_atnrmmnms \ under the forefoot. It’s the

\ right technology in exactly /

the right place,

/ External Flex Grooves / smooth your stride, \

The oust al Blown Rubber Forefoot Pods

aa Pants i \ : SS. provide excellent cushioning

resists wear, Heel Cleft d . » and fei, /

———nameeneol\ —_decelerates pronation.

—~—__—

th shoe New Balance builds has a uniquely tuned Suspension System, engineered to meet a specific set of bio-mechanical needs. To newbalance erience an even bigger brain-dump, visit our completely redesigned newbalance.com. 1-800-253-SHOE

Livin’ EASY €t RUNNIN’ HARD LIN ANUSSR INE TEXAS

[ce] ace nNOS tii

LISTEN TO GREAT MUSIC

Austin, Texas

SUNDAY FEBRUARY 17, 2002

Fast, Point-to-point USATF Certified Course Boston Marathon Qualifier Electronic Timing Awards in 38 Categories $88,500.00 in cash prizes

MOTOROLA MARATHON WEEKEND FEBRUARY 15-17, 2002 Runner’s Expo, February 15-16 Packet-pick up at Runner’s Expo. Pasta Dinner on Saturday, February 16.

Website: www.MotorolaMarathon.com Hotline: 1-877-601-MOTO (6686) Email: info@motorolamarathon.com

MOTOROLA

An American in England

Buddy Edelen Wanted to Be the Best Marathoner in the World, So He Went Where the Best Ran.

BY FRANK MURPHY

Editor’s note: In the early days of the marathon, Americans played a significant part in the development of the sport. Americans returned from the original Olympic Marathon in Athens in 1896 to found the Boston Marathon. They played key roles in the first half-dozen Olympic Marathons. Then came a drought. Marathoning in America fell on hard times. The term “American marathoner” became an oxymoron.

Then one day a young American by the name of Buddy Edelen packed his belongings in 1960 and moved to England, so he could train with the best. At Jirst the idea of a puny American runner coming to England to attempt to run with the best was scoffed at. But gradually the English began to accept the good-natured, hard-working Edelen. Then he began to come into his own. In a rush of success, Buddy Edelen became the first American to go under 30 minutes in the 10,000 meters, the first American to break 2:20 in the marathon, and (in 1963) the first American in nearly 40 years to hold the marathon world record. In 1964 he returned to the United States to win the Olympic Marathon trials by three and a half miles. The following excerpts are chapters 9 through 12 of Frank Murphy’s landmark biography of Buddy Edelen, A Cold Clear Day, copyright 1992.

CHAPTER 9 “This was a nightmare for me!”

Disappointed by the poor showing of British athletes in the 1908 Olympic Marathon, The Sporting Life Magazine offered in 1909 a 500-pound silver trophy to the winner of an annually held race of not less than 25 miles. The Polytechnic Harriers accepted the obligation of sponsoring such an event and

thereby began the first and for many years the pre-eminent marathon in the United Kingdom. The best marathoners in England ran the Poly. Sam Ferris, Tom Richards and Jack Holden each finished first more than once. Jim Peters won four years in a row between 1951 and 1954, leaving the event record at 2:17:39.

Although the course changed from time to time, the traditional Polytechnic Marathon ran from Windsor Castle along the Thames River to the stadium in Chiswick. It was flat to gently downhill, with no significant hills to worry a runner. The Poly was fast.

Buddy entered the Polytechnic Marathon to be held on June 16, 1962. It was his first marathon and he was ready. In the final weeks of training, he put what he considered a little snap in it, using the Tuesday before the Saturday event to run 45 X 110 and Wednesday to run 20 X 440 at 70.5. The next day, Thursday, he jogged easily and on Friday he rested.

* * *

Shortly before 3 0’ clock on race day, the 200 marathoners left the changing rooms and were admitted into the grounds of the castle proper. The runners lined in two rows along “The Long Walk,” which stretched three miles to the Great Park and the Copper Horse. With all in readiness, the Queen of England arrived to start the race. As she walked through the runners she stopped occasionally for small talk, including a moment with Buddy. He said about what you would expect a young man from Sioux Falls, South Dakota, to say to the Queen of England moments before beginning the marathon for which he had trained years. “Hi, Queen!”

At 3:15 in warm, sunny weather the Queen started the runners on the way to Chiswick. Immediately Buddy was in trouble. On the morning of the race Buddy had been offered and had accepted a can of sardines for breakfast from his best friend, Bill Erickson. In the ordinary course, he might have turned the sardines down and had toast and eggs, for instance, with a cup of coffee or juice.

That apparently reasonable option overlooks the mind games athletes play. They manipulate events. For example, when a good runner does something prudent in preparation for a race, he expects to run well because he has been prudent. On the other hand, from time to time, a good athlete feels the burden of expectations and does something imprudent, stupid if you will, intentionally. The athlete knows that if he does this stupid thing he will run well because doing a stupid thing, a self-destructive thing, relieves the pressure on the athlete by giving him an excuse to fail. With that excuse in place, he can relax. Relaxed he will run well. It is an athlete’s version of Catch-22. No matter whether he is prudent or imprudent he will run well. So Buddy ate the can of sardines on the morning of his first marathon.

By six miles Buddy was catching sardines on the way up; in so doing he became nauseous and cramped; nauseous and cramped, his legs went out from underneath him. As his legs went out, he slowed; as he slowed, he grew discouraged; as he grew discouraged, he slowed. Buddy trudged along the road from Windsor Castle to Chiswick without any hope in the world. Up front a race was being run and he had no place in it.

At least one athletics expert had picked Buddy to win this race, saying boldly that “the Polytechnic Harriers race Windsor to Chiswick, which is to be started by the Queen today, should be won by arunner who has never run more than 20 miles before.” That was Buddy. The writer felt, quite rightly in the ordinary case, that Buddy would have the great advantage of speed. In support of that proposition, the writer referred to a recent performance over 3,000 meters, in which Buddy ran 8:10.

Unfortunately, Buddy used no speed in his inaugural marathon. He used only his determination to finish what he started, no matter how forlornly. At the end, Ron Hill, running the second of many marathons in his storied career, won easily in 2:21:59. Buddy got home in 2:31 for ninth, wondering where the promise of spring went.

* * ES

Fred Wilt advised Buddy in his training and, by and large, Buddy acquiesced. Particularly if Fred suggested the need to run more or faster. Buddy embraced the notion and went to it. However, Fred often advised that the long, hard running should be broken by periods of complete rest. Within 10 days of the Poly in 1962, Fred found at least three times that Buddy ran when he should have rested. On June 8 Buddy ran 25 minutes, an inoffensive workout on its face but one which brought Fred up: “This is OK and didn’t hurt you, but I would rather see you have the complete courage and faith in yourself to take a day or two of complete rest. It is so very good for the mind!!” The next day Buddy did 30 minutes and again Fred would have preferred rest: “Again, this cannot harm you but if there is anything to be gained it is from COMPLETE rest. I do wish you could develop the self-confidence to TRUST yourself. I have far more confidence in Edelen than you have.” Finally, on the Thursday before the Poly, Buddy ran 40 minutes and Fred wrote: “I can’t say this 40minute jog hurt you. I can say it does not help two days before a race. This is a manifestation of uncertainty. There is a time to train and a time to rest—not halfway rest. This is a bitter lesson you have not accepted.” Of course, Fred Wilt’s comments came after the bad run at the Poly, because his reviews lagged until Buddy mailed the diary sheets to him. Nonetheless, these remarks were typical of a continuing battle between adviser and athlete and of undoubted value in explaining what happened at the Poly.

Along this line, the two hard workouts within five days of the marathon surely also must be considered. 45 X 110 on the Tuesday and 20 X 440 on the Wednesday may have been excessive and contributed to the dead legs Buddy carried under him in his first marathon. Buddy’s diet was also part of the problem. By the early 1960s, only a relative few marathoners, Clarence DeMar among them, had recognized the value of carbohydrates as a pre-race staple. Buddy did not, and his diet in the days before the Poly was light, in order to control his weight, and included no carbohydrates even incidentally.

Finally, the sardines. Sometimes, as it happens, a self-destructive act is in fact self-destructive and it doesn’t make a bit of difference whether the athlete is relaxed or not. He can’t run.

* * *

“This was a nightmare for me! I ran very badly. I felt tired from six miles, mainly in the legs. I started moderately slow, but felt my legs get sore and tired at six miles. I was about 50 seconds down on the leader at five miles, but then closed before losing again. I then went slower and slower. Last 15 miles were sheer hell, and every step my legs felt as if they were going to give out on me. I felt good in the upper body—breathing easy, but it was my legs and my guts. I don’t think I averaged seven minute miles the last six! Never came so close to quitting a race before. I never want to run a race when I feel like that again!”

CHAPTER 10

“| was really hurting the last four miles, but nothing as bad as the Poly.”

Immediately after the Poly, Buddy was finished with marathoning. He wasn’t going to do that again. Whatever success he had over shorter distances, even distances up to 20 miles, had nothing to do with the marathon and he was no marathoner. That lasted a moment, maybe longer, but certainly no longer than the time it took Buddy’s headmaster, Bert Evans, to talk with him about the Welsh Marathon Championships scheduled on July 21. In fairness, Buddy thought he should have another go at it. If this one blew up in his face, that would do it, definitely, no kidding, never again, that’s the last time, I mean it.

Between the bad Poly and Wales, Buddy spent a few days in Prague. On June 23, he ran 5,000 meters in 14:14, good running only seven days after the marathon. He then ran modestly, even adding a couple of days of total rest, before contesting the AAA six-mile championships in the White City Stadium.

The AAA was too fast for Buddy. He hoped to run 24 70-second quarters for a final time of 28:00. He did well through two miles in 9:18 and three in 14:01 but he lost the main pack of six or seven there. He ran along for the next

two miles, ahead of Ron Hill and Brian Kilby among others, before finding the energy to run a hard final mile, passing Alan Perkins in the last 100 yards and closing on Basil Heatley, who held only three seconds on him when they stopped.

As it turned out, Buddy would have lost this race even if he maintained goal pace. Roy Fowler won the race in a dead heat from Mike Bullivant, with both in 27:49. Buddy finished eighth in 28:26. His time was an American record, which was fine, but that only emphasized the extent to which Americans lagged in this event—an American record behind seven Britons!

* * *

Jim Peters set the Welsh all-comers marathon record in 1953 at 2:22:29. Tom Richards held the championship record at 2:30:40 and had for 10 years. Neither record gave Buddy a moment’s pause as he contemplated the event. He just needed to finish in some orderly fashion, to hold together and find out whether this event could be managed or not.

In the eight days before the Saturday start he had four days of either complete rest or easy jogging, interrupted by a set of 40 quarters in 73-74 on Tuesday afternoon and 2 X 2 miles in 9:54 and 9:57 on Wednesday. He did not run on Thursday, and on Friday he merely jogged 15 to 20 minutes to loosen up after a seven-hour drive to Wales.

Buddy ate more than he did before the Poly. This was consistent with Fred’s new theory that a marathoner should carry one to three extra pounds into the event to tide him over for the demands of 26 miles of running. In the last few days before his marathon, Buddy indulged himself with cakes and pastry in addition to the ordinary meals. He ate no sardines.

* * *

The course was out and back and the day was windy, blowing strongly at the back of the runners on the way out and into them on the return. Buddy stayed with a pack of seven runners until the five-mile mark in 29:41. He then moved away with John Tarrant through 10 miles before accelerating on a long grade approaching Castleton. By 15 miles, he was on his own. He ducked his head down against his chest, kept running, cursed the wind and just tried to get the thing done. He felt he was hardly moving the last three miles, but he took one step at a time until at least it was over.

Buddy’s time of 2:22:33 just missed Jim Peters’ all-comers mark by four seconds but it destroyed Tom Richards’ event record by 10 minutes. John Tarrant, after a misdirection in the parking lot outside the stadium and after a cramp that almost stopped him, finished more than a mile behind Buddy in a time of 2:31:41.

The Welsh Marathon turned Buddy around. Poly was the aberration.

* * *

Frank Murphy AN AMERICAN INENGLAND ® 81

“Tm really pleased with this! The wind was terribly strong with gusts over 40 mph the last 12 miles. It was really tough. We started slowly (six-minute pace). At five miles, John Tarrant broke away up a long steep hill and I went with him. I felt good. The pace was steady until eight miles when I tried to break away up a hill. He caught me at the top again. Then at 10 miles, I really pushed it and he faded. Once he went, I really piled it on. I felt very good until we hit the wind coming back. I still pushed it all the way and did, in fact, feel good until 17 miles when I started to tire rapidly. I was really hurting the last four miles, but nothing as bad as the Poly.”

CHAPTER 11 “No one would lead.”

Shortly after the victory in Wales, Buddy left the Chelmsford Athletic Club to join Hadleigh Olympiad, closer to his school. Later that summer he received his first invitation to compete in an international marathon, Kosice. The International Peace Marathon in Kosice, Czechoslovakia, was conceived by a group of Czech officials in attendance at the Olympic Games in Paris in 1924. Although the first race in 1925 went from Turna to Kosice, the traditional route has been from Kosice to Sena and back.

Eight Czechoslovakians ran the first Kosice in 1925 but were joined the next year by Hungarians, Germans and Austrians; in 1927 by Yugoslavians; in 1930 by Poles and Latvians; by Argentinians in 1933; by the Finns in 1934; Romanians in 1935; and by the French and the Swedes in 1937. By the time Buddy received his invitation in 1962, the Kosice Marathon was one of the most respected running events in Europe. Sergey Popov of the Soviet Union was the course record holder at 2:17:45, and Abebe Bikila at 2:20:12 was the defending champion.

Buddy did not change his training for Kosice, which would be held on October 7, 1962. The training remained a blend of hard interval work balanced by one long run per week.

Dear Fred,

Ihave just returned from Kosice. There is so much to tell I hardly know where to begin. The trip was the most fantastic experience I have had.

We flew from London to Prague and then took an all-night train to Kosice. I did not sleep a wink. When we arrived in Kosice, they presented us with flowers and a band played. Everywhere we went, people followed us asking for autographs and so forth. We were really given the “very important people” treatment. I did not notice much propaganda, although it was evident in some of the speeches. I was careful not to say anything which might be interpreted adversely in my conversations. I was told that I was the favorite (aside from the Czech, Dr. Kantorek, who won in 1958) with the people. I do not know if this was true, but I got off to a good start by kissing the pretty young girl who presented me with some flowers when we first arrived, much to the delight of the crowd.

One old Czech boy came up to me before the race and said quietly, “You know, the people will shout like crazy for Kantorek to win, but in their hearts, they want Edelen to win.” I thoughtit was very nice of him to say this.

On race day, the weather was very, very windy (30-35 mph). The sun was on us all the way, and only the strong wind kept the sun from taking its toll. Iran steady (with the wind) all the way out to the halfway point in eighth position and moved to fifth at the start of the return journey.

They televised the entire race and blocked the route from traffic. As we ran along, thousands of people jammed the course and they had a band playing at various places as we passed by, including the turnaround.

I caught the leaders soon after the turning point. Paavo Pystenen of Finland led, but after 1 1/2 miles of the return I took the lead, tapping the Finn on the rear to let him know I realized he was doing the donkey work in pace setting, and that I was willing to have a go at the leading. This pace had slowed so I picked it up again when I led. After three miles or so of leading, I was tired a bit and looked behind to discover four runners behind me in a single file to shelter themselves from the terrible wind.

Iwas a bit angry that no one else would share the work of leading, I almost stopped and, reluctantly, the Dane Thyge Torgerson took the lead. But the pace was dragging and I feared others would soon catch us and I’d be caught in a fast run from five miles out. I took the lead again and after a mile or two relaxed the pace to see if anyone else would lead. No one would. Finally, being really teed off, I took over and poured it on. I ed all the way thereafter and in the last four miles dropped everyone but the Czech, Dr. Kantorek.

Lalmost dropped him in a mile from the finish (had him by 30 yards) but then tired badly soon after. He came back at me. We entered the stadium, which was filled with 25,000 spectators, together. As we did, six men with trumpets began to play and two bands started up as well. It was very impressive!

Frank Murphy AN AMERICAN INENGLAND 83

Kantorek and I matched stride for stride around the track (650 meters). I felt sure I could outsprint him to the tape and was a bit too tired to make an all-out effort with 440 yards to go. Then, with 100 meters to go, he shot ahead like a bullet. Although I pulled him back the last 50 yards, he beat me home in 2:28:29.8 while I ran 2:28:31.4.

Iwas very happy to be second, but upset for allowing myself to be beaten. Icould have tolerated a much faster pace throughout the race and was very disappointed because nobody wanted to come up and fight me for the lead. But that is the way of racing.

The wind and sun cost us a good five to seven minutes in the final time. Britain’s great marathon runner, Peter Wilkinson, had an off day and finished seventh. The 1960 Olympic champion, Abebe Bikila, was not here although 12 to 15 countries were represented. Claus Moser of Germany was third as 78 finished.

Thadn’t finished more than five minutes, and just had time to jog alap with Kantorek, when they rushed both of us to aroom, weighed us to determine weight loss during the event and put us on couches where they strapped cords to various parts of the body to check pulse, blood pressure, etc. All this was carefully recorded. The bloke who was doing these said to me: “Very, very good.” I presume he meant that I was fit. I lost 8.8 pounds during the race. I was 148 1/2 when I started and slightly less than 140 when I finished.

Incidentally, I did not drink any water during the race, but sponged with water whenever possible. Consequently, unlike the Poly and Welsh marathons, I did not have the slightest bit of stomach trouble. In both of my other marathons, I had stomach trouble shortly after drinking water. I feel you are correct about the necessity of drinking water during the marathon, but it must be done in training so as to become accustomed to it. Otherwise it may represent something foreign to the system and act as stress instead of being beneficial.

After the race, we were taken to huge baths which were heated to the same temperature as ordinary bath water. We swam in there for a while and then swam for 15 minutes in another large pool at a cooler temperature. Finally, two men massaged our legs (one on each leg for some 20 minutes with soap). Surprisingly, I had far less stiffness and soreness in my legs than I usually have following my weekly 23-mile training run. It was amazing!

Following the post-race dinner, we went to a huge hall where they had a variety show in our honor. They sang folk songs and did Slavic dances. They had a large orchestra and dedicated songs to the first three finishers. They announced they were going to sing “Swanee River” for me. I then stood up and took a bow, which seemed the polite thing to do to show my appreciation.

We took the train back to Prague and despite another sleepless night Iam pleased we took it. We almost flew from Kosice to Prague but because of the fear of fog and the fear that we might miss connections we took the train. After I got back to England, I opened the paper to find that the flight we would have taken crashed and all 24 persons on board were killed. Howis that for fate? It scares me to think of it. Thank God for Czech trains.

Ienjoyed myself to no end and, as I say, Iam sure I made a good impression. I was interviewed for about 15 minutes for the television and radio after the race. They wanted me to tell a bit about how I started, where I went to school, how long I had run, etc. A few said to me that I was silly to lead practically the entire distance into the wind coming back. They said Kantorek ran fifth in the group of five that led on the return trip. “If you had done this you would have won.” I guess a bloke just can’t win.

I knew I was breaking the wind for the rest, but no one would lead at a decent pace and on a few occasions when I did not lead on the return trip we were almost jogging. It was true, however, that the strong wind cost me the race. I spent too much energy running into it. But despite this, lam told, I gained a lot of respect by taking the lead and speeding things up. I think maybe as far as the Czechs are concerned they like me more by just getting beaten than if I had won. I wouldn’t have been nearly as popular had I won. Iam now set for next year, and I hope the Japanese will invite me for their December marathon.

Buddy

CHAPTER 12 “Kantorek hung on and we entered the stadium together.

” Until injury or indifference intervenes, good racing and good training spiral.

Because a runner trains well, he races well. Because he races well, he trains well.

After Kosice, Buddy accepted an invitation to run the Asahi Marathon in Fukuoka, Japan, on December 2, 1962. In the interim he trained and raced in the spiral. One week after Kosice, Buddy took a 3.5-mile leg for his new club, Hadleigh, in the Hadleigh Road Relay. He broke Mel Batty’s circuit record by running 15:54, a performance that stood as the best of the day, as Buddy wrote Fred, for about 30 seconds until Mel finished with a 15:34 for his team. Nevertheless, the run was satisfying, following as closely as it did the marathon in Czechoslovakia and the travel back to England. Buddy recovered rapidly from the run and was ready for more.

The next week he ran a five-mile road race at Romford in 22:52 and recorded that he “bashed it all out every step of the way.” The run drew Fred’s favorable response: “T like the idea of your running these unimportant races. Keeps you sharp and alert, serves as a fast, long, continuous workout. You don’t need 5 X 2-mile workouts if you run these races.” Buddy responded to Fred’s approval with a four-mile relay leg in 18:52, the fastest clocking of the day. As often happened when Buddy trained hard and raced frequently, he noted that during this run he was tired but moved easily all the way. His mechanical efficiency, the ability to turn it over, was up.

As Fukuoka approached, the training and racing continued seamlessly:

Sunday, November 10: approximately 4.5-mile cross-country race at Chigwell; first in 18:39. “Ireally flew today. I felt fabulous all the way. Iran hard but within myself.”

Monday: a.m. 21-22-mile run in | hr. and 56 minutes: “I seemed to move easy all the way.” p.m. one-mile jog followed by 10 xX 110 accelerating sprints, with 30-to-50-yard jog after each; one mile home.

Tuesday: 4.5 miles at race pace, home from school. Light weights including dead lifts, curls, bench press, hops with weights and semi-squats.

Wednesday: a.m. 4.5-mile run at quick pace to school. p.m. 4.5-mile run home moderately fast (5:30 pace), followed by 3/4 mile to sea front and 30 x 440 at approximately 69-70 seconds each with 60-second jog after each: “T felt quite good tonight. I was a bit tired on the early ones, but once I got completely warmed up I felt very good. I have steadily increased these reps, on the roads since Kosice, and I have repeated the 30 x 440 now twice.”

Thursday: a.m. 4.5-mile run “quite hard all the way” against a cold wind. Noon: one-mile warm-up followed by 30 X 110 accelerations, 110 jog between each 110 run and 3-min. jog between the sets of 15: “I found it

tough to go too fast on the first few as the legs were a bit tired from the 440s last night. However, the second set was very fast.” 4 p.m.: after a half-mile warm-up, 15 X 110 very fast: “every one was flat out.” Then 4.5-mile run home, just “flowing along.”

Friday: 4.5-mile very, very slowly to school: “The only reason I ran today was the fact that I ran home last night for my second session and so I had my clothes at school. I found it much quicker to jog to school than wait for the bus. I felt not the slightest bit tired today. With this job I will definitely not run tomorrow after traveling to Brussels. I have virtually two full days now to rest. I think I’m headed for quite a good race. I should run my best in International cross-country race. This race in Brussels, I have heard, is the biggest of the Winter Internationals. A good field is entered.”

Saturday: rest. Sunday: In Brussels, Belgium, for the Criterium Des As (Race of the Aces).

“9.5 kilometers. Place: 4th. Comments: I was very pleased at my performance today. I ran very well, I thought, and more important it was the easiest international cross-country race I have run. I found the start too fast, but soon got up to the leading bunch (Roelants, North, Bernard, Van Derwattyne and some Germans). Roelants broke away about the halfway point and I tried to go after him with Gerry North, but found the pace too fast. We did four small laps and one big one. On the big one, with 1 1/2 miles to go, I managed to catch Bernard (France), who had gone ahead earlier. I passed him and caught Van Derwattyne. The last 880 I had a terrific battle with the latter. Roelants was first with North second behind. Vandy was third and I was fourth by a second. Van and I came up to the last 440 side by side. I had managed to hang on despite his spurts. I surged ahead the last 220 with everything I had and got 10 yards clear, but he came back just as we entered the chute. I don’t know how he caught me as I must have run my last 440 well under 60 seconds! I guess I should have gone with 3/4 mile to go.”

With the race in Belgium behind him, Buddy took the last set of shots for

travel in the Orient and anticipated Japan. ok * ok

In some marathons, notably Boston, where the terrain tempts a runner to recklessness with early downhill splits before introducing the hills between 16 and 20, the course is a compelling factor, an unregistered, unnumbered participant on race day. In Fukuoka, on the other hand, the course in 1962 was unobtrusive, flat and gray, out and back.

Frank Murphy AN AMERICAN INENGLAND & 87

The Asahi Corporation organized the marathon in Fukuoka in 1947 as a means of encouraging post-war activity. Foreign runners were invited in 1954 and thereafter the race grew in stature. Before the line between amateur and professional was blurred to indistinction, and it took hard cash to persuade an amateur athlete to run an event, Fukuoka ruled because it was willing to pay a runner’s way to and from the race and to treat him like royalty while he was there. An invitation to Fukuoka meant that a marathoner had arrived in the first rank.

The run started for years at the Heiwadai Stadium, skirted Hakata Bay on the way to Gannosu, turned there and returned home. Traditionally the 26 miles of running was watched and cheered by hundreds of thousands of spectators. The stadium was packed for the start and finish.

* * *

Dr. Pavel Kantorek ran Fukuoka four years in a row prior to 1961 and each time finished among the top four. Finally in 1961 he won. He was back to defend in 1962. At that, he was a long shot because the Japanese were ready. They looked expectantly to Takayuki Nakao. Nakao trained in New Zealand and while there won the Auckland Marathon in 2:18:52, ahead of two countrymen also entered in this race, Toru Terasawa (2:19:15) and Nobuyoshi Sadanaga (2:20:30).

Five other foreign runners joined Kantorek: Ivan Keats of New Zealand, Mamo Wolde of Ethiopia, Tenho Salakka of Finland, Choi Chung Kim of Korea and Buddy Edelen from the United States. Because of the Empire Games, no English runners were entered.

Buddy flew from London to Tokyo and on to Fukuoka on November 28. In the three days which remained before the race, he jogged and consciously ate enough to sustain him for the long run on Sunday, December 2, 1962.

* * *

Fifty-four runners started from Heiwadai Stadium at noon. The temperature was a perfect 53 degrees F, with humidity in the low 80s giving way to rain as the bunched runners neared 10 kilometers. Ethiopian Mamo Wolde made the first move five kilometers later, darting away from a large lead pack. He took two runners with him, Toshimitsu Teshima and Asanari Sakai, but left even them at 19 kilometers. Wolde reached the turn with a 200-meter lead in 1:09:00. Sakai, Terasawa, Makoto Nakajima, Kazumi Watanabe, Kantorek, Kim, Salakka and Buddy followed. Wolde, however, was out too fast and the field knew it. Wolde came back and they accelerated toward him. By 24 kilometers the lead was down to 20 yards. Moments later it was gone: Nakao, Terasawa, Watanabe and then the deluge.

With Wolde engulfed, Nakao carried a stronger rhythm, to which Terasawa and Watanabe responded. Buddy did not. He was already at the edge of his

confidence and he dared not go faster. Watching the three Japanese move away, he could only hope that they would suffer greatly and return.

The three leaders passed 30 kilometers in 1:37:33. Buddy went through in 1:38:25. The marathon is a long way, it goes without saying, and Buddy knew he could still win. It was possible. But as the front runners worked together, joined in the later miles by Kenjii Kimihara in his first marathon, the prospect became remote. Even as he scanned the horizon for any hopeful sign, what Buddy heard behind him was the more pressing matter. The footsteps were no less disturbing for being familiar. It was Kantorek, why would today be any different? There was nothing to be done but stay with it, keep the pace steady and hard and trust that he could dislodge the Czech. Even at that, however, Buddy held something in reserve, just that one acceleration tucked away for later use. Buddy was educable.

Over the last eight miles the Japanese sorted themselves out, with Terasawa winning in 2:16:18.4 over his favored countryman Nakao, who ran 2:16:53. Kimihara finished third in 2:18:01.8 while Watanabe fell back through the field. Some 50 seconds back of Kimihara, Buddy approached the stadium with Kantorek still clinging to him. Buddy was tired but he was fully engaged, alert and ready. One thought—“not this time”—became controlling as Buddy entered the stadium. Buddy heard those words and he felt them. It was not right, not sporting, for one athlete to trail another so resolutely, to do so little of the work, and then to accept the reward of higher place. Buddy repeated his three words. It would not happen this time. Not this time! What 26 miles of steady running would not do, 385 yards of frantic, leg-worn sprinting would.

Inside the stadium, Kantorek moved but Buddy moved too, at once, and virtually simultaneously. Without the little jump he got at Kosice, Kantorek could not make it past. Buddy held fourth place from the doctor by two strides, 2:18:56.8 to 2:18:57.4. In two marathons the two men had run more than 50 miles together on two continents and cumulatively only tenths of seconds separated them. They were even now, one to one.

The first five finishers in 1962 broke the course record of 2:19:03 formerly held by New Zealand’s Olympic bronze medallist Barry Magee. For Buddy, the result was a milestone. Nine years after Jim Peters first ran a marathon under 2:20, Buddy Edelen became the first American to do so.

* * *

“Felt good to start. We broke up into two groups at about 10 km. Iran about 20th in the second group on the way out. Ran with Kantorek of Czech. I was concerned at about 12 miles that there were so many Japanese ahead, but at about 15 miles they started to come back. I had a rough patch from about 1013 miles. My legs seemed to get a bit sore early in the race and the pace seemed a bit faster than I could manage.

Frank Murphy AN AMERICAN INENGLAND 89

“T hung on, however, and at about 15 miles I started to feel much better. I moved through the field and led a group of four. I began to run very strongly from 18 miles onwards into a head wind. Kantorek hung on me and we gradually moved up on the Japanese in front. I did not know how many were ahead. The last two miles I felt as though I was moving very fast. Kantorek hung on and we entered the stadium together. We strided around the track and I made a strong effort with 300 meters to go. He stayed with me until the last 100 meters when we both kicked for the tape. I pipped him.” -)

Visit http:/www.MarathonGuide.com today!

ai Th let th e complete marathon man M HON and distance-running g eCOM resource and community!

– Directory/Info on 700+ Marathons (plus some ultra-races)

– Marathon Reviews & Commentary (add your viewpoint)

– Searchable DB of 400,000+ US Marathon Results (incl. yours!) – News Archives

– Training Tips & Techniques

– Running, Health & Fitness Calculators

– Stories, Features & Humor

– Web-mail: @MarathonRunner.com, @Marathoner.com, @Live2Run.com

and MUCH, MUCH MORE!!!

RACE NUMBERS AND SUPPLIES FOR ALL SIZES OF EVENTS

CING SYSTEM

RACE ae

Numbers tags ‘color coding » bar codes safety pins » mile marks ° caution signs » spray chalk & paint « traffic cones * pennant flagging barricade tape » safety vests « scoring supplies…

—We’re your one-stop-shop!— Rainbow Racing System® supplies race numbers, both generic and custom print, for events ranging

from 100 to 100,000 participants!

The Running Man

Jerry Dunn Found He Had a Lot to Run From—and to. Including 200 Marathons in 2000.

BY BARRY LEWIS

Se DECEMBER 10, 2000, Tampa, Florida—lIt’s early on the morning of the inaugural running of the Hops Marathon by Tampa Bay, and Jerry Dunn is somewhat excited as he laces up his shoes. He’s been looking forward to this race for a long time—almost two years—and so has his wife, Elaine DollDunn. The pair have traveled to balmy Florida just as their hometown of Spearfish, South Dakota, settles into deep winter mode. After today, it’Il be quite a while until they run in singlets again; they’ll be bundled up in Polar fleece, GoreTex, and neoprene masks. This will be the first time since they were married five years ago that they’Il be running the same race without finishing together, but they have talked long and hard and decided to break custom on this particular day. Running together through life may be their shared mantra, but today, Jerry and Elaine will focus on individual goals. The prerace routine is not much different from the majority of mornings for Jerry: an early alarm, glass of Green Magma, a cup of coffee and a donut, and it’s time to get on with the day. Armed with a pair of water bottles and a pocketful of power gel®, the Dunns walk from the Hyatt Regency to the Ice Palace, home of the Tampa Bay Lightning and site of the start of the race. There they mingle with the 3000 other eager participants awaiting the gun. Jerry

Jerry Dunn, America’s Marathon Man.

smiles at his wife when he hears the announcement come over the loudspeaker: “America’s Marathon Man, and his wife, Mrs. South Dakota, are here for today’s race.”

Hey, he chuckles to himself, they’ re talking about us. And why not? They deserve some recognition. By completing the 26.2-mile scenic tour of Tampa, they’ ll both be achieving incredible goals.

Jerry, 54, plans to give the Hops Marathon all that he’s got, to make it his fastest run of the year. It’ll be the 200th time since January 1 that he’s gone the marathon distance, and he wants a time to remember. For number 200 in 2000, the last one better be good. At 62, Elaine is going for the finish; she’s unconcerned about standings and has no need to put on an appearance of speed. For her, Hops is the 26th official marathon of the year—her marathon of marathons is almost complete.

BEEN THERE, DUNN THAT

What kind of person does it take to fulfill a dream of running 200 marathons in a single year? Certainly someone who is highly motivated, goal-oriented, and able to maintain a total focus of body, spirit, and mind. But Jerry Dunn wasn’t always the ambitious, athletic type, able to pursue an improbable outcome with total success. In fact, he runs today like a man possessed because the Jerry Dunn of “before” was the near opposite of the Jerry Dunn we know today.

Growing up near the Indianapolis Motor Speedway, Jerry led a rather ordinary existence. He was a paperboy at age 10, liked rock ’n’ roll music, and didn’t fare too well in sports. He zipped through school with excellent grades and recalls childhood as a very comfortable time. And then he hit 18, when everything changed.

“T remember my Dad coming home from work and calling for me to help him get out of the car,” says Jerry, as though it was yesterday rather than a quarter of a century ago. “He got inside the house and said he was just tired, that he’d be fine if I got him a glass of water and a cigarette. That was his final request.” Three hours later, the overweight smoker was dead from a massive coronary. He was 47 years old. Jerry was devastated; a 20-year downward spiral of self-destruction began.

College seemed like a good idea for a high school graduate who didn’t want to repeat the minimum wage, paycheck-to-paycheck existence of his father; but Jerry found himself unwilling to apply himself when it came to the books. He flunked out. The following year, he was drafted into the army. Though he knew little about the army life and had no family connection to the military, the thought of becoming an officer drew Jerry in. Perhaps, he says now, it was the

Barry Lewis THE RUNNING MAN M93

The sudden death of Jerry’s dad, John Raymond (Ray) Dunn, at age 47 sent Jerry down a 20-year spiral of self-destruction.

notion of commanding respect that held the appeal. Whatever the reason, Jerry enlisted right after he was drafted, and before he knew it had landed a desk job handling ordinance requisitions halfway around the world. “Thad apretty good setup,” he says, “because I basically slipped through the cracks. I went to Germany, shuffled paper, slept, and partied. Man, did I learn how to drink.”

In 1968, Jerry bailed out of the military to return to college. While at- & tending Ball State University, he met the woman who would soon become wife number one. By 1970 he was divorced, had dropped out of college just before graduating, and was well on his way to becoming an alcoholic. He’d also been seduced by a world he’d missed in the military: the better-than-being-drunk highs that came from smoking marijuana. Jerry moved to Florida to take a restaurant management job.

All went well for several years, but after taking a leave of absence to travel, Jerry found he didn’t want to return to the regular workaday life. When his grandmother died and an inheritance came his way, Jerry bought a fast car, took odd jobs tending bar, and landed a construction gig that was more party than work.

“Tt was a perfect situation for someone with no ambition who liked to drink, do drugs, and hang out at the beach,” says Jerry with complete candor. “Life was a party and I thought I was having a ball.” It didn’t take long for Jerry to give in to the allure of cocaine. While something prevented him from becoming an active buyer, Jerry partook of the white powder whenever it was offered—and that was quite often. “A voice deep in my gut told me to be careful, this is serious stuff, but I made no bones about snorting when my friends had it around.”

Jerry’s story is in no way unique: like many who wrestle their lives back from the vortex of addiction, he reached bottom before he recognized it was time to get well. “I was turning 37 years old,” he says of his epiphany, “and I

had just ruined my second marriage and cracked up my car. I knew that if kept going in the direction I was headed, I’d end up just like my dad, only sooner.” The day after his birthday, Jerry swore off liquor and drugs.

RUNNING THROUGH RECOVERY

Jerry had taken up jogging at the suggestion of a friend, but it wasn’t until after he was sober that he thought athletic activity was good for anything more than fending off a beer belly and impressing girls at the beach. Running soon became a substitute for boozing, and Jerry turned his addictive personality toward this positive force. “My life was chaotic; so many things seemed out of my hands,” he says of those first months of sobriety. “But when I put on my running shoes, I felt in control. When I ran, I felt at peace.”

For the first time in years, Jerry set goals for himself. The first was to complete his marketing studies and get a college degree. The second was to run 26.2 miles. With the finish line of his educational goal in sight, Jerry took aim at the Philadelphia Marathon. He says the 1983 race was the most difficult thing he had ever done in his life, but when it came to a choice between finishing or dropping out, he had had only one choice. “A lack of self-esteem is common for alcoholics,” he explains, “and I felt that if I didn’t finish that race, all hopes of regaining confidence or self-worth would be lost. Completing the marathon signaled the true beginning of my recovery—and the end of the mess my life had become.”

While postgraduate studies in counseling and massage therapy led him in new directions professionally and personally, that first marathon became a foundation on which Jerry was able to build. He ran marathon after marathon and began extending his range, entering the world of ultras with a 100-mile finish in the Green Mountains of Vermont (22:41:30).

By 1990, married for a third time and back on the straight and narrow in Indianapolis, Jerry acknowledged that running had probably saved his life. He began to feel that his chosen sport held some bigger meaning for him. He believed running offered him the opportunity to go beyond personal satisfaction, giving him the chance to give something back.

On Thanksgiving weekend that year, he embarked on his first multiday effort, a 150-mile run across his home state of Indiana on behalf of Habitat for Humanity. Dubbed “Across the State in 28,” his goal was to run the 150 miles between Illinois and Ohio in no more than 28 hours running time.

Six months after that success, Jerry was off running again, but his followup project was enormous in scope. Dubbed “Shore to Shore in 104,” Jerry set out to run almost a marathon a day for three and a half months, traveling by foot from San Francisco to Washington, D.C.

To Jerry Dunn

Best of success to you in your run across America. Your support of Habitat for Humanity in this way is appreciated. I’m sure you will generate new interest and support among many people.

Rosalynn and I look forward to seeing you at the Celebration in Columbus in September .

Sincerely, Cbs Son for

Despite the difficulty of traversing deserts and mountains and dealing with bone-chilling storms and unbearable heat, Jerry came to realize that his body was capable of holding up to a regimen of long, slow running day after day. He may not be fast (his marathon PR of 3:23 came in 1985, and he’d never approached that time again since), but he had the will to keep going.

Jerry’s story of “hope for everyone, no matter how down they may be” caught the attention of the national media, and besides helping raise more money for Habitat, the exposure validated his increasingly obsessive belief that he was meant to be running for reasons greater than himself.

93 IN ‘93

“During the transcontinental run, I came up with an idea,” says Jerry when asked how he concocted his next running-oriented stunt. “My father dominated my thoughts as I ran across the country, and I realized that I would turn 47 in 1993; that’s the age he was when he died. I felt I had to do something special as a tribute to my dad, something that at the same time was a celebration of life.”

A group of high-mileage enthusiasts known as the “mega-marathoners” had come to Jerry’s attention. While he knew he would never approach the staggering number of lifetime races logged by the biggest names in the group, he was intrigued by the notion of trying to surpass the record for the most marathons run in one single year. Britain’s Steve Edwards held the record,

having run 87, but Jerry realized he had averaged 25 miles a day for more than 87 days during his transcontinental fund-raiser. Being fond of symmetry, he set his sights on doing 93 marathons in 1993. His third big project was born.

Almost as soon as he announced his intentions, Jerry was subjected to some serious flak. While Edwards had sought out races for each of his marathons and worked out the mind-numbing logistics to enable him to officially compete in each one, Jerry was taking a less orthodox approach. His idea was to run the marathon distance twice each weekend: once in a race and once the day before, unofficially over the official course. The nature of the “unofficial” runs was a bone of contention to some who keep a watch over such things, but Jerry was undeterred. He soldiered on with his plan.

Ironically, while researching his upcoming feat, Jerry spoke with megamarathoner Ed Barretto, and he learned that Barretto had run 101 marathons in 1991 using a similar official race and unofficial run method. Barretto said that a goal of 93 was commendable, but it wouldn’t be a record as far as he was concerned.

“Going for a record on other peoples’ terms isn’t what this is really about,” Jerry said at the time. “This started as a personal thing with a message intended to make a difference in other peoples’ lives.” Still, Barretto’s 101 hovered in the back of his mind. Since the original plan called for two marathon distance runs a weekend, with the 93rd and final effort to be the New York City Marathon in November, sticking to schedule allowed Jerry to keep up the pace until the end of the year. By December 31, instead of 93, he had completed 104.

For the most part, race directors were delighted to help, and in many stopovers they put Jerry in touch with locals willing to give him a cot or a meal during his stay. By the time he got under way, Jerry’s persistence and impressive portfolio of media hits helped him secure enough product sponsorships to be fully equipped with shoes, sunglasses, insoles, energy bars, electrolyte drinks, antioxidants, and recovery foods. Some of his travel expenses were paid, and he even drummed up enough cash from sponsors and speaking engagements to be able to say he made money running that year.

Still, to contribute his share to the mortgage and spend some time with his wife and focus on their less-than-perfect marriage, Jerry returned to his massage practice in Indianapolis four days of the week. At least, most of the time.

AN UNEXPECTED SURPRISE

While laying out his itinerary, Jerry realized that South Dakota’s Black Hills Marathon and North Dakota’s Bismark Marathon were scheduled one week apart in the fall; he seized the chance to take a week off from the return-hometo-work routine to explore an area of the country he had never seen.

When the race director for the first event picked Jerry up at the airport, he shared his delight that the self-proclaimed “Marathon Man” had chosen his race. He was proud that 1993 was to be the 16th running of his scenic event, and he insisted that Jerry meet the three people who had run every previous edition of the Black Hills Marathon.

“He mentioned The Old Timer, The Kid, and Wonder Woman,” Jerry recalls with a smile. “I was married at the time and had met hundreds of people over the course of my travels, including all kinds of attractive women, but when I met this Wonder Woman, I was immediately struck by her. It seemed strange at the time because I’d never done this kind of thing, but I felt compelled to pursue her.” Her name was Elaine.

The female version goes something like this: Elaine Doll’s son saw Jerry on television the day before the race talking about his 93-marathon stunt and called her, babbling that here was someone she just had to meet. Elaine was a pioneer in the town of Spearfish, for she’d started running at the age of 40, just before the Black Hills Marathon began. At the time, it wasn’t exactly the thing for a widowed rancher’s daughter with seven children to do. The long and short of it is that at the prerace packet pickup, Jerry and Elaine were introduced.

“There was this little skinny guy there, and sure enough, it was Jerry,” Elaine says today. “I happened to mention that I liked to drink Exceed but that it was really hard to find. At the starting line the next day, a friend of mine handed me a water bottle and said some guy showed up and said this was for you. Would you believe, it was Exceed?”

Jerry ran the first part of the race with Elaine and her entourage of running buddies before they became separated, but at the end of the race he sought her out and asked for a date. She refused, but he said he wasn’t about to leave town until they had least had a chat over lunch. “What could I do? I wasn’t about to stand in the way of this man’s 93 marathon goal, so I accepted.”

Elaine’s birthday was coming up, and she came home the day after that first date to find a pathway of arrows laid out on the floor of the house. They led to the bathroom; she opened the door and was inundated by a sea of balloons. “They were everywhere,” she says, “on the ceiling, stuck to the walls, in the bathtub, and there was blue bubblebath, too.”’ On the counter was a vase with a single red rose, “a real one, mind you, not plastic, which is what you usually get around here. When Jerry came to the door, I said to him, ‘You are seeing something no one in Spearfish has ever seen before: Me, speechless.’ It was incredibly special.”

Jerry was gone by week’s end to continue his running mission, but he and Elaine spoke frequently by phone. It didn’t take long to realize that his third marriage was about to end. The pursuit of a record for the most marathons in

one year had brought his commitment to the relationship into question even before he began; his wife never understood his motivation and bemoaned the financial impacts of the offbeat quest. Elaine, on the other hand, seemed to understand what he was doing and why. She was a runner herself. She’d been married to a bronco rider. She was used to extremism. She could relate.

BUMPS IN THE ROAD

Within six weeks of meeting, Elaine Doll and Jerry Dunn had rendezvoused several times, including at the Denver International Marathon, which they ran together. Not long afterward, Elaine developed a persistent urinary tract infection; after unsuccessful treatment and extensive tests, she was diagnosed with bladder cancer. She was terrified to learn that the surgery necessary to save her life would result in the removal of her bladder—and devastated to think that she would be relegated to inactivity by virtue of an iliostomy. Her bladder would be an external bag. She pushed Jerry away.

“Tt had been fun and romantic and exciting up until then,” Elaine says, “but we had only just met, and I didn’t want him to have to feel responsible for me or burdened by this.” Elaine’s family rallied around her, and when Jerry offered to travel to Buffalo to be by her side during surgery, she told him to continue pursuing his dream.

Instead of joining Elaine and feeling like an unwanted intruder among her close-knit family, Jerry kept in contact and maintained his focus on his multimarathon goal. Even from afar, he managed to make Elaine speechless again.

“There I was, lying in my hospital bed, contemplating either the end of my life or a dreadfully altered life,” she says with obvious emotion, “when a package from Jerry arrives.” It was an Asics box with a new pair of sneakers in it, which said to Elaine: You are a runner. You will run again.

Inside the lid, in bold, forceful script, was an inscription:

When you come to the end of all the light you know and you’re about to step off into the darkness of the unknown, faith is knowing that one of two things will happen. There will either be something solid to stand on, or you’ll be taught how to fly.

“We’ ve all been on that edge at some point,” continues Elaine, “and there are times when we need someone there to tell us that things will work out.”

Widowed at the age of 23, with three children under three and pregnant with a fourth, Elaine learned the art of survival early in life. “When the world throws these kinds of things at you, you can sit back and complain, or you can change the diapers and get on with your life.” Elaine picked up the pieces. She remarried five years later, had three more children, and dedicated herself to her

Barry Lewis THE RUNNING MAN @& 99

teaching career. All seemed right with the world until, after 23 years, her second marriage ended in tragic divorce. “That was the hardest period of my life,” Elaine says now, “but it was another lesson that I was destined to learn.”

Six weeks after her operation for bladder cancer, Elaine resumed running; seven weeks after that, she and Jerry ran the Los Angeles International Marathon. They finished together and ran faster than they had in Denver, before Elaine’s cancer was discovered.

Jerry, Elaine, and the mayor of L.A. at thestart of the 1994 Los Angeles Marathon.

NEXT ON THE LIST

For Jerry, “93 in 93” was a sort of turning point. He had not only proved that he could conceptualize, plan, organize, and find ways of funding extreme tests of endurance but had also shown that his 47-year-old body could hold up to the persistent accumulation of miles.

In addition, he continued to demonstrate his ability to attract media interest with his message that anyone could pull themselves up by their own bootstraps if they chose to take charge of their lives. His mantra, “Don’t limit your challenges, challenge your limits” made for good press, and he gained the confidence to share it whenever he was given the chance.

“Jerry is always a little embarrassed when I first mention his accomplishments,” says Don Walker, a running buddy from Spearfish who plays the role of proud father, brother, and friend. “He is kind of reticent talking about it, except when it’s with a group of runners or someone from the press is around. Then you see another Jerry, a guy who’s sure to let them know who he is and what he has done.”

People who meet Jerry are either awestruck by his accomplishments or write him off as a complete megalomaniac who happens to run. Whatever your first impression, to get to know Jerry is to like him and call him a friend. “It

may be hard to believe,” says the man who has been the subject of hundreds of television segments, radio stories, and feature articles in everything from local newspapers to national magazines, “but I used to be shy. I was always a loner, and it took me a long time to be comfortable with the attention I got.”

The paradox is that while Jerry truly is humble at heart, to create the platform to deliver his message of hope and self-redemption, he had had to become a rather blatant self-promoter and media hound.

The months following the exhausting year of marathons were a time for Jerry to reassess his focus in life. “In the middle of the desert during the transcon, I broke down in tears,” he says, “and finally made peace with my dad. A voice told me that running was what I should do. I didn’t know why or where it would lead me, but after setting the world record in 1993, it seemed to make a little more sense. I did have something to say.”

Jerry had more than his share of media attention, but it was the contact with people while running or hanging out at a sponsor’s booth that kept him going. Everywhere he turned he saw evidence that he, a former drug-snorting drunk, was making a difference in other peoples’ lives.

A HEARTFELT LETTER

Fairly typical is the letter he received from a New Jersey grade school student in mid-1993. After saying he was writing an article for his school newspaper and needed some more information, Nahoom Kim asked for an autographed picture of Jerry. “Please don’t copy the signature,” the young student implored, “‘so I know it came directly from your pen. I want to keep this as a souvenir so I can remember you as long as I live and so I can remember not to take drugs.”

On the other end of the age spectrum was a touching cab ride shared with 71-year-old Bill Wallace en route to the Palos Verdes Marathon that very same June. It was Wallace’s 27th lifetime marathon, and for Jerry, number 47 for the year. “Bless you,” said Wallace when he learned of Jerry’s multimarathon quest. “One of God’s greatest gifts is commitment; too many people today are paralyzed by fear, anxiety, and the need for instant gratification to accomplish great things like you plan to do. You’re a real role model and ought to be proud.”

By the end of 1994, Jerry had moved from Indiana to South Dakota and been through his third divorce. Fittingly, he and Elaine were married at the Disney Marathon in Florida in early 1995—at mile 8 on the course. “It was pretty amazing,” says Elaine when asked about the nuptial event. “The race director said he would allow it, and the Disney World Special Events staff took over and made everything happen. We just had to show up.” Show up they did,

decked out in formal running attire—with the media in tow. The NBC “Today Show” broadcast the wedding live on national television.

The following year was the 100th running of the Boston Marathon, and Jerry knew he had to be there. And yet he couldn’t just show up and run. “I knew it was going to be really special, and I didn’t want to be just another face in the crowd. I wanted to do something truly unique. I thought about running 100 Boston Marathons, with the final one on the day of the race, but my wife and some other people convinced me that was a little extreme.” Jerry backed down and ran a marathon of marathons instead. His 26 days on the Boston course garnered significant media attention, including the most significant profile the “Today Show” presented during its coverage of the historic race.

Between running appearances, Jerry worked odd jobs in Spearfish and tried to establish his massage practice, but pay was poor and he struggled. He found that traveling to Indianapolis every other month to take care of former clients was more lucrative than staying in town.

The move to South Dakota was difficult professionally, but it was a hard emotional adjustment as well. Spearfish was Elaine’s territory, and as a teacher in a small town, pioneer in the running community, and daughter of a thirdgeneration cattle rancher, she was very well known. Jerry felt he lived in Elaine’s shadow to a certain extent, and while he tried to settle into a “normal existence,” he knew he needed to be out there running, preaching about the possibilities life holds for everyone who is willing to go after a dream.

The year 1998 saw Jerry take a new approach: since the Los Angeles Marathon was 13 years old, he decided to run it 13 consecutive times. New York was the 29th running, so he ran it 29 times. He returned to Los Angeles in 1999 for the 14th running and ran the route 14 days in a row. While in Los Angeles, he reconnected with some of his previous sponsors and made arrangements to appear at other races over the course of the year.

THE Y2K BUG

Jerry had long ago developed a vague sense that there was a greater purpose to his running, but it wasn’t until after Boston in 1996 that he began to think that maybe running could turn out to be some sort of career.

The Los Angeles connections, resulting in new opportunities to be paid for making promotional appearances, opened Jerry’s eyes to the fact that millennium fever was building toward an incredible peak. He resolved that he wanted to make a personal mark on the turning of the century. His new, almost inconceivable, goal became 200 marathons in 2000.

“I wanted to do something truly outrageous to celebrate the new millennium,” says Jerry, “and I wanted to show that people can be healthy and fit,

well into their 50s. We hear a lot about the fact that none of us really lives up to our full potential, that we’ ve got a lot more physical and mental ability than we’re willing to believe. I wanted to show that we can all accomplish incredible things if we set a goal and go after it for all we are worth.”

The original plan for 200 in 2000 called for Jerry to focus on one race per month, running the course 16 or 17 times before the official event. Destinations were geographically spread such that they touched on the nation’s major media markets, and Jerry worked with a PR firm to maximize opportunities. As new sponsors came aboard with different ideas about exposure, the itinerary changed. In the end, Jerry ran 21 official races in 14 states and one foreign country.

Jerry had very few snafus en route to his new, seemingly unattainable record for number of marathons run in a year. He lost no luggage, missed no flights, and ended the year with no broken bones. Equally unbelievably, he never had an injury. “I’ve been tired, had sore muscles, and at times been unmotivated or incredibly stiff, but I never had a problem that rendered me incapable of running.”

The fun side of Dunn. Jerry runs the Indianapolis Mini Marathon as a jester.

Barry Lewis THE RUNNING MAN ® 103

There were times, like day 2 in Los Angeles, when small problems so compounded that Jerry was faced with a potential avalanche of self-doubt. “I’d arrived into L.A. late the night before I was scheduled to start,” he recalls, “instead of giving myself a day of orientation the way I usually did. The first day went terribly because I was tired, and on day 2, I felt a strange pain in my arch. As I walked along by myself, two and a half months into this thing, I realized I had more than nine months to go. asked myself why I was doing this and tried to think of how I could get out of the commitments I’d made.”

SHIFT TO THE MENTAL

Mental focus is a marvelous thing. Jerry got through the day, made a conscious decision to snap out of it, and had an exceptional, pain-free run on day 3. “I realized early on not to project too far down the road. Thinking about the number of races ahead becomes discouraging when you look at it all at once.”

Like the seasoned ultramarathoner who breaks down hard-to-conceive distances into aid station to aid station-sized chunks, Jerry took the long-range ultimate goal and cut it up into pieces he could easily digest.

This city is only 16 days, and you’re halfway through. Today is just one marathon, focus on that. Get to the next aid station. Take it one mile at a time. Run to that lamppost and take it from there.

This strength of mind over body doesn’t come as any surprise, according to Dr. Larry Tentinger, a physical education specialist from Black Hills University, who advised Jerry on nutrition as he prepared for his Y2K event.

“Jerry is in that 0.5 percent of the population who can conceive of something like this and then actually be capable of pulling it off,” Tetinger says. “It is a physical phenomenon, but it requires a mental, emotional, social, and spiritual focus as well. It takes a balanced, wellness approach.”

When delving into the world of someone like Jerry, the question of balance often comes up. How does someone have such single-minded focus and achieve a balance in life?

With Jerry, you might argue that at least one of his failed marriages resulted from his pursuit of his multimarathon goal. He admits that may be true, but he says that like the mountaineer who seeks the summit of Everest in spite of the risks, he could not give up his high-profile running and remain who he is.

Tentinger, a national powerlifting champion who knows the sacrifice and conflict a person can encounter on the road to seemingly impossible goals, looks at it in terms of priorities. “The way it works to be healthy,” he says, “is that you do not just focus on your goal and forget about everything else. You still give to others so you can receive more yourself. When Jerry would come in here to talk to the students and give us his time, when he shares some of the

things that he’s going through on his Web page, when he talks about the joy of pursuing your dreams, when he gives media interviews—you can see in all these things that he’s not just doing this for himself. He’s sharing the message with others because he really cares. If he was just doing this for self-glory, it would have fallen through a long time ago.”

BACK TO THE ROOTS

Jerry reported on his Web site after the Hops Marathon that he ran like the wind … wind being a relative term. And yet, despite finishing in 4:05:30—exceeding his own expectations by 10 full minutes—for Jerry, the long anticipated elation of completing number 200 didn’t arrive right away.

“Tt wasn’t exactly anticlimactic, but it was not nearly as exhilarating as I’d expected,” he says of the finish. “There was no fanfare, which was kind of disappointing. In retrospect, it seems better that way. I mean, this whole thing was kind of a solitary journey that began on a Pacific Coast beach in California, and it seemed appropriate that it ended running alongside the beach in Tampa, not far from where I first started to run when I was a drunk.”

For Elaine, the bladder cancer survivor who jokes about her iliostomy by saying she “runs with a bag under her tights,” the gratification of completing her marathon of marathons was more immediate. “I set myself a challenge every year, and I allow myself the opportunity to appreciate the accomplishment once it is done. My motto is that life is a marathon, so double tie your shoes. I mean there are all sorts of uphills, downhills, speed bumps, and curves, and it can be tough. You have to enjoy the journey and take it one step at a time. It’s a lot more fun when your laces stay tied.”

Before completing 200 in 2000, Jerry became involved with the newly formed Run for Lungs marathon team, a group-training program modeled on the successful Team in Training program. Formed in the fall of 1999 to raise money for the Alliance for Lung Cancer Advocacy, Support, and Education (ALCASE), RFL is designed to bring together people who are determined to do something to expand public awareness of lung cancer, focus on the need for early detection and more treatment options, and show support for people diagnosed with this deadly disease. Even though Jerry and several other “charter members” had raised over $35,000 in donations for RFL by early 2001, July’s Chronicle Marathon in San Francisco was the first time the team appeared at an event.

Besides helping with RFL, writing for several Web sites, and appearing on the new television program “To Tell The Truth,” Jerry spent the first half of 2001 traveling to races all over the country, often accompanied by Elaine. Jerry makes appearances at sponsors’ booths, signs autographs, and gives

motivational talks. Elaine runs with her bag at her waist and a smile on her face—and makes sure everyone’s laces are tied.

Don’t limit your challenges; challenge your limits. There’s something in that. And Jerry is right: the words do have a nice ring.

Author’s note: For highlights from 200 in 2000 and more information on Jerry’s endurance running career and to keep track of where Jerry will be turning up next, log on to www.marathonman.org.

January February March

April

August

September

October

November

1-16 17-32 33-46

47, 48 49-65 66-68 69-82

84-88 60-90.

101-109 110-118 1195135 136-143 144-149 150-157 158-163 164-169 170-178 179-184 185-190 181-200

San Diego Marathon, Carlsbad, CA

Las Vegas Marathon, NV

Los Angeles Intl. Marathon, CA

Back on the San Diego Marathon course Boston Marathon, MA

Country Music Marathon, Nashville, TN Flying Pig Marathon, Cincinnati, OH GutsMuths Rennsteiglauf Marathon, Schmiedefeld, Germany

Rock ‘n’ Roll Marathon, San Diego, CA Grandma’s Marathon, Duluth, MN Chronicle Marathon, San Francisco, CA Chronicle Marathon, San Francisco, CA Pioneer Marathon, Salt Lake City, UT Cinergy Marathon, Indianapolis, IN Bismarck Marathon, Bismarck, ND

Air Force Marathon, Dayton, OH

Twin Cities Marathon, Minneapolis, MN Spirit of St. Louis Marathon, IL

Chicago Marathon, IL

New York City Marathon, NY

Ocean State Marathon, Warwick, RI Philadelphia Marathon, PA

Hops Marathon, Tampa, FL

~ November/December 2001

ITH SO much riding on consistency during his pursuit of the 200 marathon goal, Jerry tried to stick to a standard routine. In almost every case, he arrived at his destination two days before he was scheduled to start running so that he was well rested and had a chance to scope out the logistics of getting between his hotel and the course.

4:45 a.m.

5:50 a.m.

6:00 A.M.

12:00 p.m. 12:30 P.m.

1:00 p.m.

6:00 p.m. 7:00 p.m. 8:30 p.m.

Barry Lewis

20 2000 Daily

alarm glass of Green Magma breakfast: fruit, cereal, orange juice, coffee check e-mail; respond if time allows to start line (coffee en route) start running, with goal to be done by 11 a.m. make calls on cell phone while running; calls are to Elaine, Larry, sponsors, press food on the run: 4 power gels®, bagel/donut if possible drink on the run: 40-80 oz. water, 12 0z. Endurox R4 Jerry can recite the different food stops for different courses he ran: L.A.: donut at 17 miles (Winchells), banana at 20 miles (grocery store). Boston: banana and donut at 7.3 miles (Getty gas station), cookies and coffee at 24 miles (Beacon St. Gulf) shower at hotel lunch in room: tuna, fruit and cottage cheese, salami and cheese, frozen dinner/baked potato local and USA Today crossword puzzles write daily updates for Web site e-mail dinner: pasta, pizza, fresh vegetables relaxation, watch TV lights out

THE RUNNING MAN 107

Marathon Man: A Look at the Stats

While he is a meticulous planner and has redefined the meaning of the expression “living out of a gym bag,” Jerry Dunn admits he is not a great keeper of stats. Having said that, following are Jerry’s best guesses at some of the numbers related to his long distance careers:

Total miles run: 40,000+ Shoes worn out: 1 50+ pairs Water/electrolyte/recovery drinks: oe gallons PowerBars: 3000+ Power gels®: 600+ Protein bars: 300+ Travel miles: Plane: 300,000 Train: 1000 Car: 100,000 — Hours spent with media: 300+ Favorite run: Wherever he’s | running today Major sponsors: Green Foods, | Endurox R4, Cosamin DS, Brooks

shoes, PowerBar, Sprint PCS, Foster Grant—and always looking i. for more.

Adventure Running At Its WORST!

In 1989, two runners set off to become the first to run from Death Valley to Mt. Whitney and back—in mid-summer. Lottsa luck, fellers!

Send $22 in US funds (shipping/handling included) to: Rich Benyo, Box 161, Forestville, CA 95436, USA

Town. State/Province.

Zip/Mail code Country

Allow 6 weeks for delivery. If you wish a personal autograph, please include name of person for whom book is intended.

MY GRANDMAS aaa = MARATHON XXVI

ZZ ij | DULUTH, MN – JUNE 22, 2002

et tS

OT CT eA

AD VANCED “Advanced Marathoning will be an

invaluable tool to any runner wishing to apply world-class training methods to their program, regardless of what level they’re competing at.”

Alberto Salazar Former marathon world record holder

Run faster marathons with hardP} core, scientific training! Commita ~ment and hard work are essential, but successful marathoning also takes intelligent preparation. AdISBN 0-7360-3431-5 vanced Marathoning contains all $18.95 the information you’ll need to run faster, peak for multiple marathons without injury, and meet your marathon goal—whether it’s running a personal best, qualifying for the Boston Marathon, or winning your age division.

www.humankinetics.com

The Sun Never Sets on the Team Captain

At the Calistoga-to-Santa Cruz Relay, the Exhaustion Begins Before the Race Does.

By JOE REIF

Te PROVIDIAN Relay doesn’t even begin for two weeks, but I’m already exhausted.

Others tried to warn me: “Watch out for team members who wait until just before the start to bail on you.”

T’ll admit, the race does sound daunting. The relay began in 1995 with only nine teams, but the latest edition boasted over 250 teams of 12 runners each, running 199 miles across the San Francisco Bay Area, from Calistoga in the north to Santa Cruz on the Pacific Ocean in the south. The course winds through beautiful Napa Valley, across Sonoma County, down through Marin County, across the Golden Gate Bridge, down the peninsula, and over the majestic but intimidating coastal range of San Mateo and Santa Clara counties (aka Silicon Valley). Each team member runs three legs, averaging about six miles each. The true test of endurance of the relay, however, is during the downtime.

Imagine being stuck in a van with five others (most relay teams have two vans: one for runners 1 to 6, the other for runners 7 to 12), each runner smelling like he or she has just run seven miles and a shower nowhere in sight. Most people become either the best of friends or the worst of enemies by the time they hit the beach in Santa Cruz.

People had bailed from The Flying Burritos (my team) before, but disaster struck with only a week to go. Three girls I had recruited from Southern California, who said they were all so eager to run, dropped out at about the same time. Then another teammate from work was hit by a car while helping someone cross a street in San Francisco. He would be fine, but he’d broken two ribs, his arm, and his wrist. At least his excuse was genuine.

So now we were eight—eight runners who would barely be able to run their own legs, let alone the remaining four. I entered scramble mode, calling friends, friends of friends, anyone I could think of who ran at all. I brought business cards and registration forms to my kickboxing class. With just two days to spare, my scrambling paid off, and The Flying Burritos were back up to full strength.

Bob, my co-captain, and I drove around the Bay Area in rented vans early Saturday morning before the run, picking up our runners; then we met to organize the vans before heading to the start in Calistoga.

AT THE START

We arrived about an hour early, received our race numbers, plastered our van with “Runner on Road” signs, and waited at the starting line to cheer on Jen, our first runner (and one of three Jens on our team—what are the chances of that?).

Van | left a few moments after she did. Most legs took 40 to 60 minutes to complete, and we wanted to make sure the next runner had plenty of time to get ready.

Now those of us in van 2 had four or five hours to kill. We’d arranged that van 1 would call me when the fifth runner left (informing us “It’s time to leave’’) and again when the sixth runner left (telling us “Move it or lose it”). We stayed in Calistoga for several hours, shopping for some random items (ice, batteries, and fruit). Calistoga is a cute little town, but we were eager to be off.

The first van exchange (van 2 takes over from van 1) was at a Baptist church in Napa, deep in the heart of Northern California’s wine country. When our van arrived at the church, its contents went their separate ways. Some went to eat at the church cafeteria, where coffee and cookies were available. Others grabbed their sleeping bags and headed to a quiet corner. This period was by far the most difficult time for those of us in van 2. We were antsy; we didn’t much want to sit, sleep, or eat—we wanted to run!

After a couple of hours, we got our chance. Bob called, telling us the sixth runner had just left on her leg, and we should get ready. Van 1 arrived in a rush afew minutes later, and not far behind them came another Jen, the sixth runner on our team. She looked ecstatic. She passed her wristband to Greg, who was off like a shot. We made sure Jen was okay, congratulated her, and then loaded up the van and were off.

When Greg told us he was fast, he wasn’t exaggerating. We barely beat him to the next exchange point, where Josh, our next runner, took over. He, too, was actually a much faster runner than I had thought, and we beat him with barely enough time to make the exchange with our next runner.

Top 10 best crowd support — Ultimate Guide to Marathons Pacing teams to reach time goals Walkers welcome — course open for seven hours One of the five largest marathon relay events in the United States “Music by the Mile” — more than 40 musical acts along the racecourse

Instant and secure online registration

UPMC Health System/

ae City of Pittsburgh Marathon

Marathon, Team Relay, and 5K Run/Walk UPM ¢ (412) 647-RUNN (7866)

www.upmce.edu/pghmarathon HEALTH SysTEM

Sunday, May 5, 2002

Then on to exchange point 10. This was one of the legs I was interested in seeing. The leg was marked as the most difficult, and Greg (the only Flying Burrito with experience at running in this relay) said more than once that he felt sorry for the runner “stuck” with the number 10 leg. As Jon (our number 10 runner) and I stood waiting for the exchange, I had to agree. Jon would be literally running over a mountain.

Jon was a friend who’d flown up from San Diego to be on our team. I knew he could do the run, but I also knew from past experience that he was going to give me a hard time about it. I took it like a man and didn’t let on to Jon that his third and final leg, which ran up the side of the Santa Cruz Mountains, was even more difficult. As Greg had said: “Who’s runner number 10? His third leg . . . I feel for that guy.”

Jon left in a rush, and we had a few minutes to relax. He’d estimated that it would take him about an hour to do this mountain leg. Tahiea, our number 9 runner, took some time to loosen up from her just-completed leg with some stretching, a post-leg luxury our van hadn’t had to this point, considering the speed our runners were unleashing.

TIME TO CHANGE GEARS

Irealized that my time torun was rapidly approaching. I found myself frittering over details that, as captain, I needed to stay on top of, while I attempted to change gears from captain to runner. Considering the multifaceted responsibilities of being captain, I was looking forward to running, where my most

Josh (runner 8) hands off to Tahiea (runner 9) during the first leg.

pressing duty would be to put one foot in front of the other. Ah, the simple pleasures…

My leg began northeast of Petaluma and ran through the town where they’d used the main drag as the nighttime cruising street in American Graffiti. Then I’d pass off west of the town, out in the rural areas where cows are king and California makes some of its best cheeses. Our next runner would then take us from rural Sonoma County to near the Marin County line. Where Sonoma County could brag about the American Graffiti strip, Marin County lay claim to hosting Martin Mull’s crew during the shooting of the 1980 film, Serial.

We arrived at the exchange point on the other side of Jon’s mountain, everyone unloaded, and I circled the parking lot under my own power trying to stretch out the last several kinks. Sure, I told myself, it was only 6.5 miles, a distance I could do in my sleep, but all it took to mess up our chances was a twisted ankle. No one on the team had yet collapsed, and although I’d survived the rigors of team captain, would the simple act of running be my undoing?

We’d find out soon enough, for a moment later Jon came flying around the corner and slapped the band (aka a high-tech baton) around my wrist. I was off and running, with Jon’s, “It’s up to you now, Joey,” ringing in my ears. Hey, a little pressure would do me good about now.

The entire leg was a blur. At one point, just as I left downtown Petaluma, aman walking his dog gave me topographical news: “Just one more hill to go; you’re almost there.” Turns out he was a bit topographically challenged: I had roughly four miles of hills to go.

Additionally, rumors had come back through the running grapevine that kids in Petaluma were throwing eggs at runners, which was a daunting thought. Besides being famous for cows, the Petaluma area was one of the largest chicken-producing (and therefore egg-producing) regions in California. The kids’ ammunition supply would be virtually endless.

Any egg-throwing going on in Petaluma was probably part of a “down with the relay” movement promoted by several Northern California communities. We’ d seen a sign in Calistoga that read “Relay Go Away,” and some of the Napa Valley wineries had posted signs proclaiming their sentiments regarding the relay, which apparently detracted from efficiently getting customers into their tasting rooms (and yet Sutter Home Winery sponsored the Napa Valley Marathon—go figure).

Ithought of none of the politics during my run. I finished just as I was getting warmed up, handed the wristband to Jen (Jen number 3, that is) and watched her vanish down the road. Tahiea handed me a bottle of water, which I gladly accepted. I spent several seconds stretching for injury-prevention’s sake, put on a dry shirt, and mentally cooled down and changed gears back to being team captain. The van was off again on its merry way.

Joe Reif THE SUN NEVER SETS ON THE TEAM CAPTAIN 115

As planned, van 1 was waiting for us at the next exchange point. They would run to the Golden Gate Bridge. I live in central Marin, so I invited my van to shower and get cleaned up at my place. It took all of five seconds to get general agreement on that. We would have probably been better off staying where we were so we could get some sleep, but someone mentioned the magic words “Ttalian food,” and after a dozen hours of nothing more substantial than energy bars and Gatorade, Italian suddenly sounded mighty fine to us.

A QUIET DINNER

Little conversation accompanied dinner; we were too hungry and exhausted. We left the restaurant and headed for the south side of the Golden Gate Bridge. Our van would take over in the Presidio, the former army base that dated back to 1776, when the Spanish sent a handful of men north to make a presence (which led to an attempted possession). In the wave of base closures the United States was just coming out of, the Presidio (once the plum assignment for military personnel) had been deeded over to the city of San Francisco, where dozens of special interest groups were haggling over what should be done with some of the most prime real estate on the planet.

The other van was still an hour away from us, so we spread ourselves around to catch some sleep. I crashed behind the driver’s seat, while some of the others took their sleeping bags and wandered off onto the clearing in front of the parking lot. Just as I closed my eyes, the phone rang. Van 1 was ahead of schedule and nearly finished.

There seemed to be hundreds of people at this exchange point: runners, volunteers, and folks who just wanted to see what the party was all about. Unfortunately, the restrooms were about 200 yards away, so by the time I walked over to them and returned, the exchange had already taken place and our runner was gone. Van 1 didn’t even hang around to say hello before they cut out to find a place to sleep.

The next several legs were ranked as “hard” in the race literature, but looking at the maps it was difficult to understand why. Then it occurred to me that it might have something to do with the often iffy San Francisco weather. Add in the wind-chill factor, and the temperature must have been in the mid-30s. We had 15 minutes at Ocean Beach, stretched out south of Cliff House, to wait for Greg. Although it was still freezing cold, Josh warmed up in only shorts, a Tshirt, and a reflective vest. lasked him if he could make it in such flimsy clothes. “Oh, Pll warm up,” he said.

Greg roared in, averaging a sub-6:00 pace, and Josh took off, determined to warm up quickly. Josh’s speed was one of the truly amazing surprises; we’d never guessed he was so fast. He sure had his work cut out for him. He had to

run the long uphill from the beaches of San Francisco to Daly City (the city south of San Francisco where maybe six houses a year fall off the cliff into the ocean far below). The climb was work under any conditions, but the cold and wind made it almost unbearable. Poor Josh came in looking absolutely beaten. We asked him how he felt, and he answered by throwing up all over the side of the road. A moment later, rid of all he’d eaten in the past few hours, he smiled, took a swig of water, and said he felt fine.

EARLY-MORNING EXERCISE

We cheered on Tahiea as we drove past her, and then settled in at the next exchange point. While the others slept, I got out of the van and stretched. It wasn’t nearly as cold here, the wind being shut off a bit by the coastal mountain range along which we were running. Jon’s leg would be much more pleasant than Josh’s had been—except for the fact he’d be doing it at 2:30 a.m.

Jon hauled himself out of the van just moments before he was to take off. He then proceeded to nearly beat us to the next exchange point—where I was waiting, again shifting from captain to runner.

My second leg could best be described as surreal. I’d never before run at 3:15 a.m. The 3.9 miles took me 37 minutes (a bit disappointing, but I was almost too tired to care). I actually felt numb while running. As soon as I finished, I was hit with a wave of nausea. But the feeling passed, and we were off to the next van exchange.

I remember almost nothing between stepping into the van and our pulling into the Canada College parking lot to hand over to van 1. I woke up in time to realize we were parked and everyone was pulling out sleeping bags.

The college opened several buildings to the runners, including the cafeteria and the showers. They also allowed runners to catch some naptime in the gym; they were considerate enough to keep it heated and darkened.

I showered while the others slept, then went to the cafeteria to grab some oatmeal, which was quite possibly the best meal I’ve ever had in my life.

Back in my captain mode, I dialed van 1 on the cell phone, prepared to hear of some disaster:

“A runner bailed—”

“Our van broke down—”

“We’ ve all decided to quit and go back to bed—”

Imagine my surprise to learn that everything wasn’t just going well, but they’d be finished with their six-pack of legs in roughly 90 minutes. I shot up, filled with extra energy. Three of the Flying Burritos were sitting in the cafeteria, hunched over cups of coffee. The others I had to locate in the darkened gym and wake them up.

Joe Reif THE SUN NEVER SETS ON THE TEAM CAPTAIN Mf 117

We figured we had plenty of time to get to the next van exchange, but we arrived a couple of minutes late. Van 1 was peeved, but then they realized, Hey, we’re done with our legs—let’s go party in Santa Cruz!

The first three legs of our final six were pretty uneventful. My mind was on Jon’s upcoming leg (the one Greg had warned us about) as well as my own last leg. After all the running and cramped van travel, my legs were starting to cramp up. Did I have enough left in the tank to get me to Santa Cruz?

TOO MUCH KNOWLEDGE IS DANGEROUS

Jon had some time before his turn, so he took out the relay leg maps to chart his course. His leg began with 4.5 miles straight uphill, then took a right turn and ran uphill for roughly another 4 miles. He asked that we park the van at the point—roughly halfway on his leg—where the road turned so we could give him more water, and some encouragement. No problem, we assured him.

He left on his leg, and we headed uphill. We passed him after he’d knocked off a couple of miles, and he looked really beat. Much of the color had drained from his face, but he managed a wave and a smile.

At 4.5 miles we pulled over and gasped. The hill he had yet to climb was immense. I walked downhill to meet him before he reached the van. When he came up a few minutes later, he looked totally exhausted. “Dude, I’m spent,” was all he could manage as I handed him the water.

Fortunately for all of us, Jon made it—barely. My last leg began at an old construction yard. I was faced with running two miles uphill, then another four to five miles straight down- a hill on the western side of the coastal “hills,” which were now looking Everestlike to us. The pain in my legs refused to leave. The uphill was relatively easy, but as soon as the downhill began I knew I was in trouble.

My legs hurt worse and worse, and it didn’t help that I was being passed by elite runners who began long

Joe (runner 11) finishing his third leg.

| se SOh aniversary “Celebration 2. 4

Virginia Beach

Namroch Sportsfeat Marathon

Marathon Open 8K & Masters 8K 5K Fitness Walk Children’s Marathon

Flat, Fast, Fun Course Inside Finish Carbo Load Dinner Runner’s Clinic with Dick Beardsley Sports & Fitness Expo

– Qs Fy SOR

www. a com VIRGINIA VE

BEACH a LOSERS

Joe Reif THE SUN NEVER SETS ON THE TEAM CAPTAIN

after we did but had caught up way too easily. I learned later that one of the elite teams was Team Dean: one guy who ran all 199 miles by himself!

Somewhere on the descent, a man handed me a water bottle and said, “You’re almost there.” Then I heard “a mile to go!” from a group of students from the University of California at Santa Cruz. Even their sign proclaimed “One Mile to Go!” I almost cried with joy.

I made it to the end of my leg in 1:15—75 minutes to run 6.5 miles. My team handed me water as I sat against our van and shook from the pain. Eventually, we got back inside to drive the homestretch.

The Santa Cruz beach boardwalk was transformed into one huge party. We waited for our last runner, then ran as a team to the finish line on the beach. Our time was 29:00:32. Not bad, considering 11 of us were first-timers.

None of our runners got lost. None got hurt (at least not permanently). As captain, I’d take some time to be impressed later. For now, I just wanted Ry, to get horizontal. Tomorrow I’d have plenty of time to be happy. ost

-,Providian Relay

The 12 Flying Burritos relax on the beach in Santa Cruz after the relay.

My Most

Unforg Ulitramarathon

ettable

(& What | Learned From It)

BY SUPRABHA BECKJORD

UEENS, NEW YORK, June 18August 11, 2000—It’s the Fourth of July, and I have just completed 1,000 miles of my fourth Sri Chinmoy 3100-Mile Race.

Iam celebrating Independence Day by singing, as I run, all the songs about America that I know, especially “This Land Is Your Land, This Land Is My Land.” Right now, for me and for three other runners, “this land” is a .5488mile loop of sidewalk around a school and park just off the Grand Central Parkway in Queens, New York City, a course that has remained unchanged since the race’s inception in 1997. Circling this loop 5,649 times in just over seven weeks will take me to my goal.

HUMBLE BEGINNINGS

I loved to run as a child (so my father relates), but apart from school soccer, my high school and college years were nonathletic. During those years, I spent endless hours sketching and defining my world with a paintbrush.

Suprabha Beckjord

Suprabha Beckjord on the Sri Chinmoy 3100-mile race course, a .5488 loop of sidewalk around a school and park in Queens, New York.

I started running and meditating at the same time I met Sri Chinmoy in 1978 and began to follow his spiritual path. He has been my inner and outer coach for 22 years, and I credit any success that I have had in my running to his constant love, encouragement, and guidance.

GOING BEYOND

Sri Chinmoy is a man of prayer and meditation who achieves extraordinary things by identifying with the infinite. With his thousands of inspirational paintings, books, songs, concerts, and athletic events, he seeks to encourage people everywhere to go beyond their own preconceived limits.

For Sri Chinmoy, the number “31” has a special significance in that he was born in 1931. The following is an excerpt from Sri Chinmoy’s remarks after the first 3100-Mile Race in 1997:

“These 3100 miles remind us of one divine and supreme reality: we can and we must do everything at our command to transform the world of lethargy and unwillingness to be dynamic. Willingness to give, willingness to achieve, willingness to grow and glow should be the message of our souls. With our soul’s blessing we can and will fulfill our earthly life.”

3100 MILES IN 2000

On Father’s Day, June 18, 2000, three runners lined up with me at the start of the Sri Chinmoy 3100-Mile Race. Namitabha Arsic, 35, a railroad engineer from Yugoslavia, had completed the 3100 in his third attempt in 1999 and had returned for another round. Participating for the first time were John Wallis, 63, a retired educator and veteran ultrarunner from Ludington, Michigan, and Asprihanal-Pekka Alto, 29, an ultrarunning post office worker from Helsinki, Finland. I was the only woman to run.

On this first day, Sri Chinmoy arrived at the starting line and meditated soulfully for a few minutes, offering a silent blessing for our journey. At 6:09 A.M. the race clock started ticking, and we were off, amid the cheers of a few dozen friends and well-wishers. Although this was the smallest field of runners in the four-year history of the race, a very harmonious and supportive team spirit would carry us through the next seven weeks. The four of us ran together for a number of laps, but by the time the crowd of supporters had dispersed, each of us had settled into our own pace. The temperature was moderate that day, with some light rain. My prerace state of frozen anticipation had melted quickly, and I sought to establish an inner balance and peace for the long road ahead.

The last month before the race, because of duties at work, I had managed to run only a few miles a day. Gone this year was any notion of confidence

The start of the 2000 Sri Chinmoy 3100-mile race with (from left) Suprabha, John Wallis of Michigan, Asprihanal-Pekka Alto of Finland, Namithaba Arsic of Yugoslavia, and (in front) Sri Chinmoy himself.

based on a high-powered training regimen. As day 1 went on, just about every part of my body was expressing how it felt to be in constant motion all of a sudden. Yet, by around 9:30 p.m., [had completed 68 miles. I was delighted to see the team of two women who would come to pick me up and take me home for a very short night of massage and rest. For these friends of mine, Sanyogita and Bahula, this was an ultra also. For the fourth summer they were dedicating their after-work hours to my cause. Their cheerful spirits and soothing care I have greatly needed and deeply appreciated.

Over the next few days, a familiar pattern unfolded. I would cover 42 to 45 laps in the morning, then take a 20-minute break for rest and massage, thanks to my nurse friend Kritagyata. On the hottest days, I would welcome being immersed over my knees in a big, green bucket of ice water. Five minutes was enough to cool my feet and the heat rash on my legs.

In the afternoon I would run 36 to 38 laps, with another break around 5:00 p.m. for 15 to 20 minutes. In the evening, I would run enough laps to bring the day’s total to at least 112 laps, or 61.46 miles. If I could keep to this schedule, I would complete 3,100 miles within the time limit of 51 days.

Suprabha Beckjord MY MOST UNFORGETTABLE ULTRAMARATHON mi 123

On the hottest days of the race, Suprabha took breaks by immersing herself over her knees in a big, green bucket of ice water.

HELP ALWAYS AT HAND

I was extremely fortunate to have Ivana, a young doctor from Yugoslavia, as my constant helper. She was there with whatever I needed in the way of drinks, supplements, and food—not to mention excellent care and advice. Ivana had also helped me in 1999, when New York had its hottest summer ever.

During that race, she had insisted that I take pinches of salt almost every lap to stay balanced in the 90+ degree temperature and extreme humidity. That really saved me, along with bags of ice that I wore under my hat from midmorning until late afternoon.

THE SCENERY

At one end of our concrete loop race course is Thomas Edison Vocational High School. During our summer-long race, we became keenly aware of the school’s schedule. For the runners, the students are moving obstacles to dodge as they head to school in the morning, then come shooting out of their classes in the early afternoon.

At the other end of the block is Joe Austin Park, with a large playing field; courts for handball and basketball; and a playground with swings, fountain, and jungle gym. There is a colorful scene in the summer evenings as the multicultural neighborhood spills out onto the courts and playground. One of my favorite moments while running along this side of the course was late one evening when the park was deserted. Out of the darkness came a deep, beautiful voice singing, “Amazing Grace, how sweet the sound . . .”

Even though the neighborhood scenery—including every crack in the sidewalk—quickly becomes very familiar, the inner landscape is constantly

SANDHANI FITCH

changing. Much of the challenge of this race lies in going beyond the confines of the analytical mind. To really grasp the idea of covering the entire megadistance of 3100 miles on concrete pavement would be enough to stop us dead in our tracks.

Instead, we must, and we can, remain focused on a single day at a time. The gradual progress we make toward the goal is a constant source of satisfaction. Life is very pure and simple on the race course. We are free from all obligations except moving forward. It is as if one’s entire being enters into a silent continuum—the timeless circular flow of the 3100-Mile Race.

1999 VERSUS 2000

Each year, the same race offers a different experience. In 1999, New York experienced its hottest summer on record. Nonetheless, I managed to keep to the 61-miles-a-day schedule through the first few heat waves, even when all the men slowed down. I was in the lead for a few weeks until Ed Kelley, the iron man from California, regained his strength. But toward the end, the heat and my exhaustion took quite a toll on me, and I had many falls—to the point that my breaks were like M*A*S*H episodes. Instead of massage, my entire 20 minutes would be taken up with cleaning and rewrapping my wounds! By the end of the race, the course felt like a battleground to me, and my mind was probably even more exhausted than my body.

In 2000, I was determined to have a different experience, and Sri Chinmoy gave me beautiful advice about remaining in the spiritual heart while running. This time as I circled the course, I tried to bring forward the enthusiasm and eagerness of a five-year-old child. When I focus only in my mind, I am aware of the striking of the pavement under my feet, the roar of the traffic, and aches and pains here and there. If instead I go into my heart, I find an endless supply of energy and sweetness. To run just for the joy of itis to discover that the miles are passing faster than if I watch the clock. This advice was invaluable to me as I ran.

THE SRI CHINMOY MARATHON TEAM

Every morning before dawn, the urban race camp is set up efficiently by members of the Sri Chinmoy marathon team, without whose dedication and love of their task there would be no race. Their constant cheerfulness and selfgiving inspired me on a daily basis. The camp consists of two vans, a foodstorage vehicle, portable toilets, and a lap-counting station under leafy trees. A refreshment table is spread with fruit and snacks. We runners are picked up from our accommodations and shuttled to the starting line each day of this

Suprabha Beckjord MY MOST UNFORGETTABLE ULTRAMARATHON = 125

stage race, and camp is “open” from 6:00 a.m. to midnight. After a few minutes to arrange our equipment and vitamins for the day, we observe a moment of silent meditation and then we are off!

A lap counter arrives, the first in a relay of Sri Chinmoy marathon team volunteers to keep track of our laps in three- to six-hour shifts. We start fresh every day, with laps counted from number 1. A scoreboard with our overall race mileage is continuously updated as the sun arcs across the sky.

FOOD: THE “JOY FACTOR”

Meals are brought at regular times during the day, and we usually walk while eating small quantities at a time from paper cups. Our nutritional needs change during the course of the race. Each runner has his or her own preference, but we all start out needing high-energy foods and seemingly endless gallons of liquid. After three weeks of running, everyone requires extra fat. By the fifth week, we all want the simplest, most familiar, and easily digested form of fuel. The healthful vegetarian meals provided by the Sri Chinmoy marathon team are excellent for runners.

Of course, there is always the “joy factor” as well. Ice cream becomes a regular daily feature. For me, soup is the ideal food. Poached eggs, vegetables, tofu and rice, and chapatti bread rolled up with spinach and cheese are all great.

Toward the end, when my weight was quite low, my friends would bring big sandwiches for me to enjoy as I went home at night, along with tiramisu. It is always a challenge to eat and run under these circumstances, and sometimes our helpers have to cleverly tempt us to consume as much fuel as we need.

THE UPS AND DOWNS OF THE ROAD

Two weeks into the race, all four of us were going strong. Asprihanal-Pekka took over the lead from Namitabha on day 14, and both passed the 1000-mile mark on day 16. The next day John and I completed our first 1000 miles on the Fourth of July—when I sang to celebrate my country.

On day 19, John, having inspired us with his two-week stretch of 63 miles per day, experienced back pain that reduced his pace to a walk for several days. The race quota of 50 miles per day was lifted in favor of his recovery. This was a turning point in his race, and he took it in a very positive way. He later commented that he had come to run a race, but instead he had had a lifetransforming experience. There is a special strength that comes from cheerfully and bravely accepting what life has to offer.

The end of the third week marked a turning point for me as well. Because of weakness from ongoing stomach problems and a strain in my upper left

thigh, my pace was slowing down. My daily mileage began to duck under 60 miles. It became clear to me that this year I would not be able to stay on pace like clockwork.

Anew challenge was emerging: not to give up on the goal of 3100 miles but to accept my slower pace and maintain a happy state of consciousness in the face of my smashed pride. Gradually, the importance of how many laps I could complete each hour was being replaced by how much gratitude I could feel just to be a part of the race and how much gratitude I could offer to all those who were helping me through it.

As in the other summers I spent on this race course, I would pass much of the time singing as I ran. Sri Chinmoy has written many beautiful devotional songs and songs about running, and these made up my repertoire. However, this year I added a few compositions of my own. Some were fun, written for the friends who were helping me. One listed all my helpers by name and ended with the words: “They come to pick me up and take me to the race in the morning; without them I would still be snoring.”

One song in particular was significant because I had transcended the mental exhaustion of my 1999 battleground experience. The words of that song were: “This is sacred ground, not a battlefield. My Lord Supreme has walked this path.” As I ran, I was trying to feel God’s love and compassion with all my heart.

One Saturday toward the end of the race, I was running the slightly uphill stretch along the Grand Central Parkway when a young boy started walking next to me. Since we were moving at the same rate, I joked, “Either you’re walking fast or I’m running slow.” Then I added, by way of explanation, “We have been running for 41 days.”

The boy replied, “I’ ve been walking for 14 years!”

Encounters like these with neighbors and even some pets from the surrounding community—some curious, some sympathetic, some strongly supportive—enlivened our rounds considerably.

3:55 © 4:00 © 4:05 © 4:10 © 4:15 © 4:20

Achieve your running potential

Wins The Race!

The steady PACE

PR or DNF –

The difference is PACE BAND! Only $2.00 each! Group Discounts Available!

© Tyvek Wristband!

Check Splits Easily!

Sweatproof, Durable!

Times Available to 7 Hours! Half-Marathon Pace Bands, Too!

To Order: www.paceband.com

© 3:00 © 3:10 © 3:15 © 3:20 © 3:25 © 3:30 © 3:35 © 3:40 © 3:45 ¢ 3:50° POLE © STE e OCE © GLE & OLE © OO’E © OOS ¢ OS ¢ OF ¢ OFbe

Or ¢ SLb ¢ OL’b © SO’b © 00″ ¢ SSE

Suprabha Beckjord MY MOST UNFORGETTABLE ULTRAMARATHON 127

Asprihanal-Pekka crossed the finish line first in 47 days, 13 hours, and 29 minutes. Namitabha was second in 48 days, 4 hours, and 18 seconds, transcending his 1999 time by an amazing 36 hours. John completed 2700 miles in 48 days, 14 hours, and 27 seconds.

It has become a tradition at the 3100-Mile Race for all the runners to stop running when one of our compatriots crosses the finish line. I felt tremendous delight and pride in each of my three running-brothers’ victories, though I had many miles still to run. The race time limit was extended for me to finish, and the last five days were almost like a separate event, as I was the only runner left on the course. Along came a heat wave, with three days of temperatures in the 90s and high humidity. My heat rash returned, and I was back in the big, green ice-water bucket during breaks.

Friends came out for my last evening of running and decorated the course with colorful banners. They set up festive candles to light the stretch before the finish line, which had been our starting line all those weeks earlier.

At 9:45 p.m. on August 11, 2000, I completed the Sri Chinmoy 3100-Mile Race in 54 days, 15 hours, 51 minutes, and 34 seconds, a very happy runner.

Suprabha crosses the finish line of her fourth Sri Chinmoy 3100-mile race.

CELEBRATE!

FIVE YEARS OF FAST, FURIOUS, FUN FEBRUARY 9, 2002

The FIFTH ANNUAL MYRTLE BEACH MARATHON, Marathon Relay and OneMile Family Fun Run takes place February 9, 2002.

This event will give marathoners, recreational walkers and relay runners

the opportunity to experience all that Myrtle

Beach has to offer,

while participating in a firstclass event on a course that has been designed to be FLAT, FAST, FURIOUS and FUN.

Register online at: www.active.com 843-293-RACE (7223) PO Box 8780

pid peach, sc | Visit us on the Web: ” myrtlebeachmarathon.org

RITC cecesrex

Edwardjones LeBleu

Tee Zs & newbalonce ceganeaiarine

Suprabha Beckjord MY MOST UNFORGETTABLE ULTRAMARATHON Mi 129