Another in-race observation: we both felt better-than-expected around mile 18, which is typically when your legs and joints really start to squawk. Brad decided we could pick up the pace and I encouraged him to string it out as far as he wanted. Our final mile was 8:24, which is almost a minute faster than my final mile was in '06 (which was run in a stiff, raw headwind, mind you). If I decide to go for Boston again in '09, I think I might run the first 18 miles at an ~8:15 pace and the final 8.2 at ~6:45, if I can. I really felt like I had a lot in the tank; I love to finish fast; and this seems every bit as counter-intuitive as running a marathon successfully on ~8 weeks' preparation. So, why not?
Finally, thanks to all of the people who contributed to Children's Medical Missions, as I requested in my kickoff post. I'm very proud to have run this race for a great charity run within my own extended family, and each of you who pledged a few bucks for each mile I completed now have a full 26.2 multiplier to reckon with. The "invoice" email will be heading your way shortly!
(Administrative note: I'm ashamed my last update in this running-specific blog dates back prior to 2007 income tax being due. Then again, I'm a touch nostalgic for a pre-credit crunch world. So it goes.)
I'm pretty excited: seemingly out of nowhere, I've got my next marathon scheduled for December 13th, 2008: The Rocket City Marathon in Huntsville, Alabama. This is sort of a nutjob ambition. I haven't been training for any distance in months; my last run longer than 10 miles was in May at the Indy Mini-Marathon. It's madness, but there is a method, and it's not another selfish tilt at the Boston windmill. I have two goals: to join a friend who's working his way through 50 marathons in 50 states before he turns 50, and to run for a charitable cause, as so many have done before me. And now, please allow me to provide the backstory:
Brad Feld is a friend and investor in our most recent company, FeedBurner. He's the guy with the 50/50/<50 ambition, and as you can see, he's 13/50ths complete in this challenging goal. A while back I promised him I'd join him on one of his marathon stops. For whatever reason, I decided to check in this fall and find out what his last race of 2008 might be. Turns out it's Rocket City, in Huntsville. I haven't been to Alabama since we drove through the state when I moved as kid from Florida to Texas, so I decided it's worth a trip in December to see what's what in the northern part of the state. Of course, being an impulsive decision, it was made just ~2 weeks ago, and I'm totally not in any sort of marathon groove. Training runs in Chicago, in November, are cold, dark, solitary affairs. How will I cope?
Brad's not running these to set land speed records; it's all about conditioning himself to chew up distance and notch steady, relentless achievement. He's planning to run this between 4:30 and 5:00, and I think this is a pace I can manage on short notice if I crank up the discipline now and build a "crash course base." But there are no guarantees you will finish any marathon, whether you've trained all summer or barely a month; fate's a bitchy training partner.
So I decided to make the effort the focus, not the usual goal of finishing strong/fast/semi-upright: I'd like to ask you to pledge a dollar amount you're comfortable with for each mile I complete. I will of course do my damnedest to finish the entire race with Brad, but even if I don't, I want a charity to gain from the day. And that charity is one with Shobe family connections: Children's Medical Missions.
About CMM: My cousin Greg Shobe's wife, Tami, leads CMM from their home in Ohio. Its mission is to bring children from Third World countries to the United States for surgery they could not obtain or pay for in their homelands. Greg and Tami find families to host these children during their stays; all medical and logistical fees are covered by donations. Why do they do this? Because this is what "Real America" does: take some of our energy, generosity, and access to incredible capability, and reinvest it in others so that they might one day do something great. That "greatness" can be as simple as living a better life. This is such honorable work; its conclusion with each child is its only reward.
CMM needs money to continue to bring children over here, arrange hosting, and pay for procedures. I plan to provide my own donation, but I would be honored if you pledged a value you feel appropriate. The winning formula:
Want to join me in Huntsville? just fill out my pledge form, and you're virtually in stride with me (and Brad). I'll be sure to contact you after the race with my result and the total donation we compiled. (Oh, and I'll politely ask you to cough up your share.) Thanks for considering this cause.
It's supposed to be more the usual tomorrow and especially Sunday: below-zero windchills and generally icy, dangerous running conditions. "So, get a run in tonight!" I sez to myself when I get home. The temperature was quite reasonable for this town, this time of year, at about 36F. I put on the Sugoi running tights with the reflective stripes; found the old green fleece headband; and loaded up the Shuffle with Foo Fighters, Jay-Z, and Smashing Pumpkins. A slapdash mix, but it'll do.
I get out on the mean streets of Park Ridge, and it's 1/2" to an 1" of slush on the less-traveled residential byways. Surprisingly, I had really good traction. I can't explain it — I don't have havybeaks' screwspike-equipped running shoes or even trail running shoes. Just a plain old pair of trusty Asics Nimbus VIIs. I also felt surprisingly strong, cardio-wise, for not having run in quite some time. It's possible a skiing weekend out west 7 days ago is the explanation, but I dunno. Just 4 days at altitude shouldn't buy you any advantage, should it? Acclimation doesn't work that rapidly.
In the end, four miles. A bit of base built toward the half marathon in May (but it's really pushing it to connect a run this early with a race so far off). And some satisfaction in getting some work in before all that slush freezes into an impassable moonscape.
Did I mention I'm pleased to be heading to California for work again next week?
I got a 5-miler in last night before the door to the industrial freezer we call the Midwest slammed shut. My hair was frozen in matted clumps below my fleece headband, and that was at about 18F.
Fortunately, even I am not enough of a nutjob to run in this, the temperature of the moment:
…that's Fahrenheit, but it might as well be Kelvin. At least it's bright n' sunny. Everybody smile!
…is a must listen. It's no trade secret he's one of the hardest working musicians, period, and Foo Fighters has been a 13-year expanding ripple from the collision between Nirvana and the mainstream. But he's so plain-spoken, so thoughtful, so much like us (except for that superhuman talent thing) that it's all you can do to not run him straight to the top of your Famous People I'd Like to Buy A Beer list.
Oh, and "hi." I'm still here, but I'm so far behind contributing anything new at all, that I might as well circle around and start over completely. "I started marathon training this week; I think I'll use this site to post this-and-that about my training experience as the “Road to Boston” unwinds."
If you're not living in the Chicago area you probably haven't heard much, if anything, about the "itch mite" problem that seems to have taken hold here. In the leafiest areas, especially around my northwest suburban neighborhood, there has been an outbreak of small, annoying, intensely itchy insect bites that seem to come from nowhere, but always affect people spending time outdoors. The story is well-covered in this CBS2 story and this huge Topix thread lists hundreds of posts by residents and visitors in northern Illinois who've noticed bunches of itchy red welts on their arms, necks, and torso. They itch for days and apparently the microscopic, oak tree-dwelling mite that causes them can't be warded off by repellent. The worst part is that you have absolutely no indication that you're being bitten; just the itchy marks to prove it ~12 hours later.
I got my first two or three bites after an evening run two weeks ago. The next day, I noticed them on my arms and on my stomach. Supposedly the mites don't bite until they've been on you for several hours, so a good shower should avoid the problem after time outdoors. Not true. I've been collecting these marks even after showering within an hour of finishing at 30 minute run, so I'm pretty sure the damage is done within minutes of the invisible, unnoticed mite taking a bite. Truly an annoyance.
So, what to do? Run indoors? No friggin' way. Wear long sleeves? Maybe, but a) it's still August and b) I've gotten these bites on my torso while wearing a short sleeve running shirt, so I think they can defeat loose-woven fabric. Stop running here at home until the first hard freeze, which is supposedly the event we need to kill these things off? Not likely. Still, it's demoralizing to step outside and know you're just gonna get some new itches for your troubles, and that's that.
My theory is this is completely correlated to the 17 year cicada cycle we encountered earlier this summer, even though these mites supposedly aren't their eggs' predators. It's too much of a coincidence.
I have neglected this poor VOX like I was being paid to do so. Pathetic. No Great Midwest Relay recap, no coverage of the simple, satisfying runs that make up the summer season (despite this being an off-year where marathons are concerned), no mention of something even remotely close to a Good Reason for my absence. Heck, I've missed you people, and that should be reason enough.
So, the supertight summary:
- My company got bought by another company. Joy, then thrilling chaos, then some running in Central Park and Mountain View, California, then more of the work thing without quite so much chaos in it later. Ultimately, a lousy summer for any consistent, disciplined training, so I've been loafing it. Ran some 7:20 miles today — a roaring 5 of 'em — and I can safely say a marathon would punt my ass right now.
- I ran the Great Midwest Relay with my team, as planned, and it was a superlative experience. If you can put together a group of roughly one dozen runners with similar pace and the flexibility to spend 24 hours-plus with each other in two vans, trundling across the moraines and lakeshores of Wisconsin and Illinois, I promise you you won't be disappointed. We finished 9th out of 115 teams with an astonishing 6:56 average pace over 190 miles. I brought up the rear, mostly, with my ~7:20 net, but it was such a tremendous experience to share the miles, byways, and relay transition points with this group of enthusiasts that my only fear is that any future race won't live up to the near-perfection of this one's camaraderie, cool, clear weather, and friendly competitive spirit. Here is a photoset to help illustrate (the originals, with annotation, are over on Flickr)
…and that's the key set of updates. I'm not sure when my next running event is gonna be, but I have this vague idea that my next marathon should be Paris or Berlin. Hey Havy — maybe I should do something in Grand Rapids this fall. I think you're the speed merchant du jour, so I'd love to see how you make it happen live.
For the Great Midwest Relay, I volunteered to do our twelve person team's t-shirt design. We decided to get basic white technical short-sleeve shirts from a place called runningbanana.com, which came recommended to us by another runner. Each shirt is $36 shipped, so I'm hoping they're high quality, comfortable, and survive at least a few washes. The interesting thing about their process is that they use "dye sublimation," a technology used by a lot of personal printers optimized for digital photography. The design is dyed directly into the fabric rather than silkscreened over it, preserving the fabric's breathability. Posted below is the design, which will appear on the back between the shoulder blades:
…And there you have it. I'll post a review of runningbanana.com's product itself once it arrives, which may be the middle of next week!
Left work, iron-gray skies above. Got on train. Drops streaking sideways on windows. Ponds forming in every dimple of asphalt on passing station platforms. Got off train. Got on bike. Rode two miles in the rinse cycle to get home. Exactly half-soaked from front to middle. Leather shoes. Crap.
Cut my losses; change right into summer running gear. Step out the door, cooler by 10 degrees than when I left work, maybe. Muggy in an autumnal way — not in your face, but damp. Stretch, then set a good pace. Rain has settled into a mist; cools but doesn't soak, although slick pavement plots treachery with each stride.
Make it to turnaround at Edison Park; water fountains are already on for the season. Soggy softball diamond is deserted, tennis courts inviting only to the mallard set. Mist picks up a bit, more of a steady thin drizzle. Spurs me on.
Last stretch, fifth mile of this trusty loop is a fast one, sub-seven. When the summer heat arrives to stay, I'll look back on this evening and want a switch to throw that restores it.

on This time, I'm running for charity.