Love of Sport

I've been running since I was 4. On year 31, the Wenatchee marathon and subsequent swim and bike was a refreshing sequence that helped me focus on why I do what I do. The world is changing to one of convenience, which has made the fitness of most nearly obsolete. Gradually we lose touch with everything from the beauty of this world to the potential of our own bodies vs. the elements and each other.

Amanda and I participate in the Wenatchee marathon events annually as a way to keep fitness a part of our marriage. She packed her gear and left it by mine. She wanted to get a long ride in, so she prepped for a long ride and headed toward Wenatchee just after I woke. She got a 4.5-hour head start as I got myself ready and went for my daily run and a pool swim. When I finally got started, it was amazing how much mileage an Ironman does for a long ride. I raised her on the radio nearly 100 miles in, which was a relief to my worried mind. She decided to call it a ride, packed her bike in the car and rode the rest of the way with me. We arrived in plenty of time to get our race packets, find a nice hotel and get a nice dinner. This weekend was pressure free. Times, place, competition, etc. did not matter. We were there for the experience. Rather than fussing over all the pre-race "things," we just relaxed while watching news and a movie.

The next morning I rolled out of bed and opened the curtains to see a heavy snow fall. This would be my first marathon in snow, but at least it wasn't very windy. We apparently forgot about breakfast, so we ate the remaining pop tarts Amanda brought for her ride. I wasn't well prepared for cold or snow, so I wore my Air Force top over my long-sleeve shirt in my event bag. The visor I brought would keep the snow, not the sun, out of my eyes. This would be a training race to gauge fitness, so I left my race shoes in the bag. It would cost me about 7 seconds/mile, but alleviate the pounding of a marathon. Amanda started at 8, so she headed out and jogged the half mile to the start. I started at 8:10, so I waited until 7:55 to head out.

I arrived at the start line with 4 gels and very little anxiety. I talked to strangers, answered questions from nervous runners, had a few laughs and ended up on the start line with just a few seconds to spare. The gun went off and runners began to flow past as I forced myself to keep this one under control. Sub 6:10 was not allowed, so despite the runners pulling away, I stuck to my rules.

I'm really not a fan of distance events, but marathons are very unique among races. They're far enough that it's more than just speed and even endurance. To do well, an athlete really has to know his/her limits. As obsessive as I am about every detail, I do better at marathons than other events. After my first several marathon tries failed miserably, I figured it out and hone in more each time. The race unfolds the same for me almost every time. I start off with my target pace, stick to it despite how easy it feels and would be to pick it up just a touch. Runners disappear way up the road. Mile after mile, my pace only changes from wind and terrain, not from fatigue. Around 13 to 17 miles, runners begin to pay for their efforts and slowly fade until they hit the wall and struggle to finish.

Wenatchee went that way for me on Sunday. Left in the dust, I chatted with 10K and marathon runners, looked regularly at the GPS to keep my pace slower than 6:10 and enjoyed the spectacular views of the river, hills, orchards, houses, mountains, and snow filled sky. The only thing eating at me was the point where the 10K finishers split and the marathon continued. It left me with a constant reminder that the race leader was about 150m to 200m ahead. I didn't want to think about my place, I just wanted to enjoy this. Unable to block the runner and lead biker from my view, I spent a large amount of time staring at the scenery.

I took one gel before starting (always Power Gel), then one every 5 miles, knowing I could get a (Gu) at an aid station at mile 19.5. The course was an out and back, then two 10-mile loops along the trail and over a bridge at each end, so it helped to know where aid stations were and what the course was like. At mile 13 the leader started to fade slightly, which made it tough to avoid running him down. At mile 18, the pass was made in an aid station, so it was tough to send him encouragement. I stuck to my pace between 6:10 and 6:30 My pace goals took only one hit on mile 20 when I ran a 6:33. It involved a 180 turn around a cone and a 50' elevation gain. I could have gone harder, but the plan was about pacing. Every hill I let up and ran easier than the flats to save my legs. The goal is to prep for Lincoln on May 4th. In the end, I managed to run just a touch faster than expected with a 6:23/M for 26.33M (.11M long) totaling 2:48:18. Of the four years of this race, I'm the only one to have done all four. Best of all, taking it easy made this a rare experience of having more miles in me. I didn't have to collapse or limp away. I was just fine :0). I won a free pair of shoes too! We walked to the hotel to get cleaned up and take a 20 minute nap before heading back to the park. Aside from the newspaper, I was able to walk around unrecognized and chat with my hood and sun glasses on while cheering for the incoming finishers.

The ride home was harder than the race. We stopped after a couple hours to switch drivers so I could nap. We stopped at FAFB on the way home for an easy swim. Recently I've discovered the joy of an easy swim with a pull buoy. Open turns, easy pace, "comfortable" bilateral breathing and a continuous swim until I'm done 1500m later. It was my slowest timed mile on record, but it was great to use the watch only for the purpose of lap counting. Two events down and I really got to enjoy each one.

The best part of the day was probably the ride. My legs were tight, so the bike was more like a walker at first. There would be no watch at all for this ride; therefore, no pressure. It was cold and somewhat windy with snow coming down, so I was bundled up in all my cold weather gear. My legs didn't feel too bad, but I took it really easy and looked at all the things I miss when I'm out there suffering. I was surprised at how much I'd missed on previous rides from the faster pace or greater focus on the time or road ahead. As I headed up Granite Lake Rd., the cloudy sky was glowing as giant flakes came down. It was so peaceful and spectacular when it couldn't have been if I were pushing the pace. I found myself trying to catch giant flakes on my tongue, which I'd spot about 15m out. It reminded me of Tiffany's hail catching experience, which really must have hurt. I had a good laugh for quite a while out there in the fields all alone.

The hills weren't hurting my average since I wasn't keeping one. The winds were calm enough that I could hear the streams along the road, some of which I'd never seen. After heading through Cheney, the sky turned baby blue with the Sun shining though a couple silver clouds, making it look like a giant eye looking down upon me. Nearing I-90 and crossing over into Medical Lake, the scene was of heavily frosted trees and bushes. One spot had a section of bushes frosted completely white, which contrasted next to some apparently frost resistent bright red bushes surrounded by a giant patch of bright green grass under a blue sky reflecting off the calm waters of Clear Lake. I wish I had a camera.

At the end of an exhausting, but very rewarding day, I thought about how nice it was to get back to the roots of sport. I set some simple goals for the run and enjoyed a swim and bike with no concern for time or pace. For a person who spends so much time in the great outdoors, I discovered that I miss quite a bit whith my normally heart-pounding pace. I avoid getting caught up in the conveniences of life that so many are fixated with. Yet somehow, despite walking or biking to places instead of driving, and many of the similar self-sufficient no-frills things, I find that there's plenty more out there to see if I take the time to see it. How often do you use your incredible fitness to enjoy nature rather than conquer it? Luckily, I have a wife who helps me realize these things when I get to going too fast. Today is our anniversary (21 April).