The New Year's Day Run

I don't remember exactly when it started.

On some New Year's Day morning several years ago I woke up and decided to run. The distance happened to be 10 miles, which at the time was a stretch for my athletic endurance.  Since that day, every year, on New Year's Day I'm compelled to run 10 miles.

Some years the 10 miles has felt like 20 while other years (typically when I'm in the midst of training for a marathon or Ironman) the 10 miles was a cakewalk. I tend do some pretty deep thinking when I run (like most runners I suspect), so combining the stillness of a holiday morning plus the mindset of starting a new year - the contemplative thoughts get pretty active.

I've tried to figure out why I'm so compelled to run on New Year's Day, even more than my normal desire to run. I think the reasons have changed over the years as my age brings new perspective and depending on what happens to be going on in my life. However, I think the underlying drive though is a desire to shock the system on a day that has such symbolic meaning for new beginnings.

Even if I'm not in a place where I feel like I need to have a "new beginning", I find value in pushing my body out of it's comfort zone for a while. Over the year's I've had moments of such clarity while running that I've come to expect that if I head out for a run with some problem or challenge on my mind, that by the end of the run a solution will have made itself clear to me.

I've read or heard two people I admire very much tell stories of how a run, outside of their comfort zone, brought clarity to their lives in an otherwise challenging time. One was Tony Robbins at an event I heard him speak at, and the other was Dean Karnazes in his book Ultramarathon Man. Early on, this brought some validation to pushing myself on a New Year's Day run. Now, it's so ingrained in my annual routine that I don't give it a second thought no matter what shape I'm in.

By running on New Year's Day, maybe I'm expecting (or hoping) for that clarity of thought that Tony and Dean experienced as I contemplate how I want to craft the upcoming year of my life. Whatever the reason, I always feel better when I get back versus when I left; I've run off any extra calories I might have consumed the night before; and I feel ready to face the new year with optimism.

By the way, this year's run will feel more like 20 miles than a cakewalk.

Catching up

Hanging out the with the Tour de France devil at EurobikeWow! It's been a long time since I got a blog post up. To bring everyone up to speed, here's the short version of why.

After my DNF at Lake Placid last year and with my 40th birthday this year I decided in early 2010 that while I couldn't get back to Ironman to redeem myself just yet, I wanted to do something big.

After doing some research and talking to friends I decided on the Vermont 50 ultramarathon. I had never run longer than a marathon before and in the long term I thought it would help with the mental and physical stamina needed for my next Ironman attempt.

Soon thereafter I landed a dream job as the Marketing Manager for a bike company which meant a trip to Interbike. However, Interbike ended the day before the Vermont 50 which meant no go on the Vermont 50, so, I looked for a different race, and found the Rhode Island 6-hour Ultramarathon in November.

Training was progressing well until the trade show time in September. While it severely limited my training, I felt privileged to be able to go to Eurobike in Friedrichshafen, Germany and Interbike in Las Vegas in September. But, between the travel, jetlag and 12+ hour days at each one week show, I missed several key long runs.

Unfortunately this left me playing catchup on my training. If you've ever tried to play catchup on any endurance sports training you'll soon find out that it just doesn't work that way.  First I injured my achilles and missed 2 long runs. Then on my last 20-miler I was getting severe IT band pain.

So, after consulting with my coach and family I made the decision not to do the ultramarathon. It was a very disappointing decision but it's the way life turned out this year.

And so now I start planning for the next event. Now that I've settled in as the Marketing Manager for Montague Bikes I hope to be able to update this blog on a more frequent basis.

I'm very fortunate to be working in an industry I'm passionate about in a field I'm also passionate about. It's providing me with incredible experiences that I want to share and hope this blog will be the medium that allows me to do that.

Thanks for staying tuned!

My Tipping Point

Photo Credit: Go GratitudeI'm a big fan of Macolm Gladwell's book by the same title as this post in which he described what the tipping point means as they relate to a group's momentum toward something - an idea, trend, etc - until it reaches the "tipping point". Until the momentum in a way becomes self-perpetuating because a critical mass has developed.

Over the course of this spring I'm noticing a lot of similarities with the tipping point in how I was approaching my training. I've been participating in various types of races for a long time and after discovering triathlon have turned up the volume on the amount of training I do each year in preparing for goal races.  For the past several years, even though I'm not a competitive athlete in the sense that I'm trying to make the podium, the idea of beating my best time or moving up the rankings in my age group has been an important motivator to keep training consistently.  I've approached the calendar year like a true competitive athlete by staying fit in the off-season and following a periodization plan in an effort to build, peak, recover and do it all over again for the goal races I establish.

One definitive trend I've noticed from year to year is that my motivation level changed significantly after signing up for a race. Even if I was planning on a race but hadn't yet signed up yet, the act of clicking submit on the race entry seemed to trigger a physiological reaction that brought me right from early spring until the end of the season. This annual process had become so routine that I never put much thought into it until now.

Why now? It's now almost May and I have yet to sign up for race. I have some plans and goals but haven't clicked the submit button on any of them yet.

Despite this I trained all winter, to the point where I over trained and injured myself forcing me to take several weeks off.  I rode the trainer in the basement and got more than my money's worth from my Netflix subscription, I got to the pool to keep my swim stroke consistent and I ran, a lot, always outside. I ran in blizzards, sub-zero temps, freezing rain, you name it.  I hadn't signed up for a race. I hadn't done that kind of off-season training unless there was an Ironman in the near future. Why the disciplined schedule? 

My conclusion after having lots of time to ponder the question during many hours or training over the past several months is that I reached an internal tipping point. Call it a critical mass of experience or a desire to stay fit or even just the joy of exercising. At some point it became more important to me to just experience swimming, biking and running than to use them as a vehicle to reach some destination (finishing the race). Maybe it was my first DNF last year, maybe it's reaching a birthday with a zero in it this year. Frankly, I'm not sure of the reason and maybe it's a combination of several.

I do still have goal races I want to do this year and in the future (and it will be interesting to see how I react after actually signing up for those races), but for now I'm grateful to be in a place where I train to have the experience and not just to get ready to race. 

What is your limit?

This year I was looking for something big to do. Over the past several years my perspective on what big is has changed. Signing up and running a 5k was big 10 years ago. That 5k progressed to a 10k, triathlon, half-marathon, marathon, half-Ironman and finally the Ironman.

Next on the goal list is a 50-mile ultramarathon and as the springtime training has begun and people start asking eachother what races they are signed up for, I share my 2010 aspirations and sometimes get the same reaction I did after signing up for my first Ironman five years ago - "Why?"

Some people who ask are genuinely interested in my internal drive while others ask the question with a tone that has the subtext "there is something seriously wrong with that guy". Both have valid perceptions. In my relatively short experience with endurance sports, some athletes have incredible internal drive while others could probably be certified as insane.

The "why" question is not an easy one to answer and I figured that I wasn't the only endurance athlete that had been asked that question so I started a couple of online groups, Why I Run and Why I Tri, to see what other athletes thought.  Those communities have been inspiring and entertaining to interact with and helped me to see there are as many answers to the "why" question as there are people. Actually, there are probably more answers than people because many people I've heard from experience a change in their answers over time.

I think my answers to that question have also changed over time but I have been noticing a common theme as I more closely scrutinize why I continually am pondering the next bigger challenge. There is an attraction to discovering my physical limits.  Inherent in that statement (and maybe more importantly) is discovering mental limits also.

I know there are 40 year old guys out there who have the same build I do, weigh about as much as I do that have run 50 miles.  Logic tells me that with the right physical preparation I should also be able to complete the same task.  So the challenge becomes, do I have the discipline to prepare, the ability to properly fuel and hydrate myself, and the mental fortitude to complete the distance?

At all the distances I've attempted so far, the answer to these questions has been yes (after completing my first Ironman, the 2nd didn't go as planned but I know I can complete the distance). When it comes to 50 miles, I'm certainly confident I'll be able to do it but won't know for sure until crossing the finish line.

In the end though, the race is just an attempt to answer that question for myself - what is my limit?

Photo credit: Rob Web

I saw Abe Lincoln while running!

I've been trying to bring my Flip video camera on more runs to capture my ultra training experience. I'm glad I brought it on this run because after about 15 minutes into a 5-miler I saw Abe Lincoln!  Sometimes you never know what you'll come across while running!

Unfortunately the day after this recording I re-injured my calf so this will be the last running video blog post for at least a few weeks.