The Run ***OF*** My Life

Sitting in the relative comfort of my office, with race-start-minus-less-than-72-hours . . .

"In the end, endurance sports are a test of yourself against yourself; they require nobody else, and sometimes they can hardly tolerate anyone else." -Bill McKibben, "Long Distance"

I've spent the past few weeks (months?) thinking a lot of myself.  Yes, by cloaking this 100+-mile challenge as a fundraiser for four charities, I have essentially insulated myself a bit from otherwise valid charges of self-indulgence, self-centeredness, and self-congratulation.  But, if I'm being completely honest, I'm doing this because I want to do it, to test myself, to see where my limits lie, and - if it goes well enough - to bask in the glory of the achievement of completing 100 hilly miles on foot.  If things unfold in a reasonably positive way, this will turn out to be THE RUN OF MY LIFE.

But . . . my thoughts are not completely focused on my own navel.  In addition to my wife, my children, and my clients, my thoughts keep turning to the worsening crisis at the U.S. southern border.  The crisis where tens of thousands of unaccompanied children whom have fled violence-ravaged parts of Central America are streaming into the United States in order to have a chance to live.  Largely, their parents have done what loving parents do: they have sought to protect their precious children by any means necessary.  And yet, in this day of political polarization, shameless demagoguery, and fact-bereft ignorance, we cannot even seem to see this problem for the humanitarian crisis that it is.  Even Glenn Beck sees hurting children in need.  The response from his "constituency" when he went to help them?  Threats. How did we get to this hardened, punitive place?

While there is room for reasoned debate as to how we might reform our immigration laws and policy as a whole, there should be little disagreement about what to do with these children.  We should take them in, give them immigration/asylum hearings, and allow our flawed-but-still-workable legal process to sort it all out.  Instead, we get a political blame-game, with misinformation fueling unfounded fear and misguided anger.  I won't get into the details here, but will offer this photo meme for consideration:

As I wrote on my firm's Facebook page:

At its essence, the reason we have the humanitarian crisis at the southern border is because some people in the world still view us models of freedom, peace and opportunity ... read this article about what they're fleeing, and then answer this question: Are we going to prove them right?

So, along with supporting legal services for the poor, public broadcasting, cancer research, and spinal cord injury services, I will also maintain the perspective that - when all is said and done - I'll merely be on a recreational journey within an organized race, amongst other like-minded athletes, and with the support of a wonderful crew.  But, when it gets particularly tough, when it hurts, when the doubts are poised to dethrone my determination . . . I will think of these children, whose plight involves something so much more serious and dangerous, and who - unlike me - are in a RUN FOR THEIR LIVES.


Thanks for reading. -Ron

Personal Record

A couple of months ago, I submitted a piece for Runner's World's "Personal Record" column, where ostensibly "ordinary" runners write about the own running experiences, usually gleaning some greater lesson from the pursuit of our beloved sport. I assume that the prospects of my piece ever appearing in the magazine are slim to none, so, Got Lactate? readers (or reader?), you get the scoop first. Please comment as to whether the reflection is any good, or just a mindless ramble which does nothing more than spout a simple and cliched message.

Thanks in advance, ESG
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A Blissful Lack of Hindsight

By _______________

As we rounded the last turn in our running club's spring two-mile time trial, we both dug deep, looking to finish strong. Despite giving it my all, I could not catch him, and crossed the finish line a few seconds behind. The clock's big yellow-green display gave me the news: 12:07, with the final four laps my first sub-six-minute mile. I beamed, while my running club mate - five years my senior - hung his head and wheezed, "To think, that used to be my half-marathon pace."

In the year-plus since I went from casual fitness runner to devoted (obsessed?) distance runner, I've enjoyed great improvement. My first-ever "long" run was a laborious 7-miler where I walked several times and used three packets of energy gels. Now that distance - run about 90 seconds per mile faster than that first time -is a common recovery run between longer, harder efforts. My race times have also improved, though the PR's aren't coming as fast and furiously as they did at first.

Every time I hit a new benchmark, though - whether a faster pace, longer distances, or newfound training consistency - I feel like I'm venturing into uncharted territory. The sense of accomplishment is wonderful. As a still-new runner, I'm on my way up. On this climb, I've noticed that I'm now running with others who feel that their running careers are following the opposite trajectory.

Thanks to having found this wonderful sport later than many others, I have no glory racing days about which to wax nostalgic. I can't regale anyone with tales of my college PRs, the crazy 20-milers in summer heat with no fluids, the multiple races in a single week - or a single day. But the beauty of taking up running while staring down middle age is that I have plenty of personal glory ahead. For me, an age group award is a cause for celebration, not a consolation prize. For many of my running brethren, though, they see themselves on a slow, painful decline from their days of peak fitness and superior speed.

As one former collegiate runner friend told me, he's moved to the half-marathon and marathon because he knows he'll never come close to his college PR's at shorter distances, his near-15-minute 5K a relic of personal history. Others have ventured into the world of ultras or triathlons or adventure racing, using their fitness to try new events and set a new slew of PR's. In the meantime, I'll continue to consider 40 miles a week to be a solid base, while others lament that they can "only" run 60 or they'll get injured. It's all still fresh to me, and I think (hope?) I have a few years to improve at every distance, before the inevitable equalizer of age starts to make me slow down.

It seems that the primary complaint of the middle-aged - whether talking about career, personal relationships or hobbies - is the common "ruts" in which we find ourselves. Routine may be comfortable, but it can also deaden one's senses, stifle creativity and squelch the wonderful feeling that comes from trying new things, taking on new challenges, testing and surpassing our perceived limits.

While taking up running may not be for everyone, doing something new when you might think you're too old to will inevitably surprise you. You may not end up being the best, but you will certainly be the best you've ever been. And that will help you see yourself in a very positive new light.

Into the Wild

Last weekend, I saw Sean Penn's visually stunning and philosophically challenging movie, Into the Wild. Based on Jon Krakauer's 1996 book, the movie chronicles the last two years in the life of Christopher Johnson McCandless, a.k.a., Alexander Supertramp. Chris' story holds special sway for me, not because many of the themes hit a personal nerve (though they do), but because he and I went to college together, and I knew him briefly during our freshman year when we both worked on the school newspaper. I won't claim that we were friends, and will admit that I'd have likely completely forgotten him had his story not come to national prominence. That said, to have known someone who was destined to live a short but memorable life makes one feel like a part of the story.

The movie was very well done: well-acted; gorgeously filmed; full of thought-provoking questions about materialism, the essence of human existence & relationships, the definition of truth, morality, happiness, love, loss, etc. But there was something askew, and I only found myself figuring it out after feeling a pang of regret for not having been more like Chris, not having developed a rock-solid moral code and renounced a life of comfort and security in order to live obsessively true to that code. That was the problem, in a nutshell: Penn idealized Chris' life, and - to some extent- his death, to the point of making a spiritual vision quest-turned-death-march into a romantic pursuit of "truth". While Chris' parents were portrayed in unequivocally unflattering terms, Emile Hirsch's Chris has a messiah-like quality, inspiring intense affection and even love in virtually every person he met along the way during his two-year odyssey. He becomes a screen onto which folks project their emotional needs: he's recruited as a surrogate son, grandson, employee, lover, etc.

I would like to re-read the book, but the one thing I didn't like about it the first time around was that Krakauer inserted himself too much into Chris' life, essentially engaging in some armchair psychologizing in order to figure out what made Chris tick. While that may be the biographer's prerogative, it felt too much like Krakauer used Chris' story to work out some of his own issues. Against the backdrop of a best-selling book, that seemed exploitative to me. On the other hand, maybe Penn didn't do enough of that, instead deferring to Chris' character (played with charisma, charm and Hollywood good looks which I don't remember in the real Chris) to the point of borderline hagiography.

Despite what may sound like my overly harsh criticism, the book and movie both tell a very engaging story which raises many issues about the choices we make in a modern society. While the world gets ever more interconnected, it is still possible to get lost. If we are willing to live with the consequences of our choices, it is possible to eschew the demands of a world which exalts achievement, consumption and acquisition above most everything else. And, even for one who was thought himself intellectually and physically prepared for the daunting challenge of surviving for months in the Alaskan wild, the power of the natural world to overcome an ever-worse-equipped-survivalist human specimen remains something to behold and respect.

In an ultimate irony, Chris McCandless' sense of the world came from books, reading greats such as Tolstoy, London, Thoreau, et al. To think - as Krakauer & Penn posit - that Chris starved to death because he misread a book on edible Alaskan flora serves as a powerful metaphor for questioning the validity of a foundation predicated upon the abstract. Chris might have thought that from the right books, he could learn everything he needed to know to make his way in the world. In terms of relationships, happiness, truth and sustenance, he proved himself wrong.

-ESG

Dropping Names

So, as I strolled into the starting area before the 2007 Chicago Marathon, I looked to my left and saw a very familiar face. I said hello, and that he looked familiar, and he introduced himself as David Willey, Editor-in-Chief of Runner's World magazine. He is a very pleasant guy, we chatted about relaxing our race-day goals in light of the heat, and I suggested that they create a year-end compendium of training programs which incorporate some of the stand-alone training techniques which they feature every month. He very politely said he thought it's a good idea, and we wished each other luck.

Turned out that David had a worse race than I did, despite (or because of) a more ambitious goal (3:20 vs. 3:40).

I waited a couple of weeks and sent David an e-mail expressing my "condolences" (more like commiserating, really) about the race, and he wrote me back, asking for some informal reflections about Chicago. Lest I get too excited thinking that I have a foot in the door to my dream job of being a running journalist, he explained in a follow-up that he's seeking input from as many people as he can, and they'll feature a few highlights in the January 2008 issue. Incidentally, I was very disappointed about the lack of even a mention of Chicago in the December 2007 issue, but - as David pointed out - the December issue went to press before Chicago was even run.

Not sure what I'll say, but will try to come up with a fresh perspective. Feel free to post comments if you have any thoughts you'd like to share.

-ESG