Electronic Newsletter - November 2007
Table of Contents
Select an Item to Read the Following Articles
President's Message
My Evansville Half Marathon
Experience - Matt Garza
My Evansville Half Marathon
Experience - Kristy Hartmann
Answer Person Thank You Winter Weight Training
Part 1
Ray Rayl 5K
Things I Think I Think
BellBodies Corner
Jerry's Journals


President's Message

Hope everyone has survived the hot, humid summer.  All of that training in the heat to get ready for the YMCA half- marathon and they end up having the worst weather since it started. The heat took me down right after the 10K mark and I knew I had to slow down if I wanted to finish standing up.  I have asked the YMCA race committee to consider starting the race an hour earlier (7 AM), which can make a difference.  I encourage you all to do the same.  With 95% of the runners/walkers being local I don’t see this as a problem. 

At then end of the year I will be stepping down as President of the GERWC to start working with others on event planning (running/biking events) here in the Tri-State area.  Hopefully you will see bigger and better races in our area due to the formation of this group. 

Our club continues to provide support groups for members through speed work and weekend group training runs.  You can find these workouts on our web page or message board each week.  If you would like to be placed on my personal e-mail list for workouts and club activities you can e-mail me and I’ll place you on this list. 

The club, as always, is still looking for people to sit on the board and help plan our future. If you have two hours per month to give please think about it.  

In closing, remember that all club members are welcome to attend our monthly meetings.  We meet the second Wednesday of the month at 6:00 p.m. at the downtown library.

As always, if you have any club comments or concerns please contact me at msurunner@sbcglobal.net

Power-On! 
Gordon



My Evansville Half Marathon Experience
By Matt Garza

I began running as a sport (and obsession) in July. I had run before but only a few miles a week for fitness. As I paid my ten dollars for the Team 13 training program, I knew I had just made a commitment. The end — the September 22nd  eleven-miler and, ultimately of course, the Half Marathon — seemed not only impossible, but also unimaginable. 

With a few cases of heat exhaustion and a couple of unforgiving warm-up races in my training log, I approached a long-awaited milestone: a ten-miler. The humbling humidity of July and August was gone and the ego-lifting (for a runner) fall air appeared more often than not in September. On September 15, I ran an easy 10.6 mile run. I told myself I could run five more. I probably wasn’t lying. 

September 22’s eleven-miler was challenging. I finished in a little under one hour, thirty-six minutes. I remember someone after this run assuring me not to worry: “the first week of October is never this warm.” It wasn’t hard to believe him but ‘record’ has been the word to describe the weather these past few months and October 7th demanded that description, too. 

My wife and my mom were near the eight-mile marker on Main Street to cheer for me. They later remarked how I was smiling even through eight miles. The smile fell. My 15k time was on pace with my conservative goal of one hour and fifty-five minutes. However, after about ten miles I could no longer maintain this pace. I’m not against walking for as much as a minute at a time; this quickly became my new plan for salvaging the race. I was embarrassed to realize that, even after walking for more than five minutes, I was not yet ready to run again. I thought about the people I had met at the training program, the confidence running had given me, and how obvious it was that God was now giving me a dose of humility and an understanding of mortality. 

With less than three miles to go, my pride was gone. I knew the dangers of heat exhaustion and how much my body could take: it couldn’t run another three miles. I ran in painful, sporadic strides but mostly I walked to the finish line for a time of 2:04:15. 

I have always looked condescendingly on those who get emotional about an event like this. I’ve heard of people crying after running marathons but this was only half that distance. “Surely people won’t get all emotional today,” I thought. It was too much for me, though. I felt so much and could hide nothing. It all came out: the joy of finishing, the disappointment of finishing late, the certainty that God will strengthen this body to get me through even tougher races, the gratitude to God for giving me a sport I love, and the assurance that if my dad were still alive he would have been proudly waiting for me at the finish line.



My Evansville Half Marathon Experience
by Kristy Hartmann
            I made it!  I made it!  I can’t believe I made it!  I actually completed the 2007 Evansville Half-Marathon!  My plan to run the Half-Marathon began with me becoming a member of “Team 13”.  I had trained with this group (lead by the YMCA) in the past, but this was their first year of giving themselves a name and having special t-shirts and runner numbers.  I was excited to again be a part of this group of people dedicated to training hard, having fun, and keeping each other motivated for the 13 weeks of training.

            I quickly realized, though, that my commitment to a training routing was somewhat lacking.  It was then that I decided that I would not attempt to do the Half-Marathon this year.  However, because of some coercion from a few people who shall remain nameless, I found myself signing up a few days before the race.  After a great deal of convincing, my sister begrudgingly agreed to walk with me. 

            We began the race with high hopes.  In addition to our primary goal of ‘just finishing’, we also hoped to attend work the next day without crutches!  The first eight miles went better than expected, with us keeping about a 12 minute/mile pace while alternating between walking and jogging.  We believed during that race that jogging allowed us to rest our “walking muscles” and vice versa.  Anyway, it worked for the first eight miles.  In fact, it was going so well that we had convinced ourselves we could handle 13.1 miles. No problem!  Mile nine didn’t go as well as the first eight, but we were still making it!  We would be fine!  After all, we were over halfway there!  

Then we reached mile ten!  With all of the muscles in my legs screaming at me and wanting to know why I was such an idiot to think I could do 13.1 miles with little training, I began to doubt whether I would make it.  It was then that I recalled the information given to me by my husband.  'At mile eight we could quit, leave the course, and then walk the 1 block to the finish line’.  Of course, at mile eight we were still wonder-women with nothing keeping us from finishing!  Needless to say, the last three miles were rough!  We even joked about having someone carry us to the finish line! 

            Because we barely had enough energy to lift our feet off the ground, we didn’t even try to jog any portion of the last three miles. 

            When some of the volunteers told us that we were almost to the  “home stretch”, we were elated!  We even picked up the pace!   Once we had turned the corner and reached the riverfront, we knew we were home free!  There’s no better feeling on earth than being on the home stretch of a 13.1 mile race!  As I approached the finish line, my name was announced as a finisher.  In that moment, all of the pain I was feeling vanished as I let out a “WOOHOO!”  We had done it!



Answer Person

What should I do if I feel the ‘call of nature’ during a race?

            Just curious! 

GO!

            ANSWERPERSON



Thank You!
If you attended a local cross country meet in August, September, or October, you saw the GERWC's version of the 'Dream Team'.  At the finish line, you will always find four men:  Bob Lauderdale, Ray Pritchett, Jim Effinger, and Bob Christmas.


These men are responsible for timing countless events for the EVSC and also many of the road races that are timed by the Greater Evansville Runners/Walkers Club.  They volunteer their time and talent to encourage and inspire others in our great sport.

The next time you see them, please give them a 'Thank You'.  They do so much and we owe them a lot.



Winter Weight Training - Part 1
Submitted by Mark Jones

Every Human Motion is Muscular

By Roger Burrows

As featured in the December 2002 issue of Running Times Magazine

 

 

Every human motion is muscular. If your "cardio" is your motor, your muscles make up your power train. Stronger muscles transfer greater force to the ground, and reduce the amount of wasted energy. When you watch the unfaltering rhythm of an elite runner, you are watching gifts of genetics and dividends of training. But you are also watching muscles hard at work.

How often have we said admiringly that elite runners "look like

 

they are hardly touching the ground." The compliment has considerable truth: they are definitely touching the ground for a shorter time than most of us. The shorter the ground contact time, the quicker the next stride happens. Now multiply even a few hundredths of a second per stride by every stride in a 10K!

During each stride, the weight of that elite athlete’s body is supported by muscles that contract instantly to provide a solid platform for the next forward drive. This is muscle strength, pure and simple. The strength allows the twin actions of support and drive to take place almost simultaneously.

The rest of us need more time to absorb the impact of each landing, and to gather ourselves for the next push. We may have the lungs of an elephant, and the mileage of a Greyhound bus, but when our present level of strength can’t handle our "cardio," energy squirts away on each stride. All runners perform much the same muscular actions; stronger muscles perform them quicker.

How Do I Gain Strength?

 

First, you have to want to get stronger. Some emotional commitment is necessary, because you are literally going to have to "train to your weakness." There are no shortcuts.

Moreover, traditional strength training has not been the average distance runner’s idea of a good time. This is often because they are steered in the wrong direction by visions of muscle-bound behemoths pumping iron. The best returns come when strength training is a natural and expected part of your program, targeted to your aspirations. The suggestions that follow are designed to achieve that seamless fit, and dispel the musclebound image.

You then need a weight room, and a knowledgeable buddy, coach or weight room supervisor. They can show you the proper form for the exercises. They need to know, and appreciate, that you are first and foremost a Distance Runner, and that you wish to use their expertise in the quest for your specific running goals.

Fortunately, you can rely on the fact that a productive strength training program for distance running is simplicity itself. If you feel the slightest bit uncomfortable, overwhelmed or confused by jargon, macho-babble or attempts to dazzle you with the sophistication of the program and equipment you allegedly need, seek advice elsewhere.

You need a few manageable exercises that target muscle groups important in running. You need to do them consistently, and to advance according to a simple, clear progression. You can do all that is necessary in about 40 minutes, twice a week. If you find yourself spending any longer in the weight room, you are either waiting for equipment (occasionally inevitable, but you may want to look for a quieter time, or a quieter facility), socializing (OK if you have the time) or wasting time (not OK).

As for any new activity, you begin gently. You also "hang in there" through a period of adjustment that lasts at least a month, maybe longer, as your body grows accustomed to new loads. Exercise scientists call this "adaptation." Adaptation time at the beginning of a new activity is critical. Trust yourself in the first few weeks if you feel a little out of your element, tired or uncoordinated. This feeling is part of a natural adaptation cycle.

Machines or Free Weights?

That is not the question.

The equipment debate is a perennial one in the strength-training biz, and

 

 

there is no really definitive answer. It is more productive to ask what equipment best meets your goals.

Strength machines are invariably made by people who want to sell them. We therefore expect to hear their benefits extolled by those with justifiable pride in their product. They will tell us that the machines’ design isolates actions, and ensures a slow, controlled movement of the load.

For many purposes, these are indeed advantages. A strength program based on controlled, isolated actions is better than no strength program at all. If you feel safe and comfortable on controlled resistance machines, but vulnerable and uneasy even looking at the bars and weight discs, hop aboard the machines. Use them to develop some basic strength and confidence.

But in two or three months, re-read this and the accompanying article. By then, you may feel ready for some strength training which is more directly related to your real goals. To do so, you will want to expand your horizons, from machines that control your muscular actions to equipment that you control yourself. You will recognize that some machines continue to serve your needs. But you will also recognize that other equipment, both traditional and modern, often does a better job.

The Muscular Actions of Running

 

Like any trainable body system, muscles respond to training by adapting to the specific requirements placed on them. The steady, controlled muscle contractions that machines are designed to permit improve the muscles’ ability to perform (guess what?) steady, controlled actions.

"Don’t I want my running to be steady and controlled?" I hear you cry. Yes, you do, but let’s separate your ability to maintain a pace from the muscular actions that allow you do so.

As you run, the muscular actions are anything but steady and controlled. Several hundred times a kilometer, the weight of your body drops to the ground from a height of several inches. Conservatively, the impact is equivalent to roughly double your weight; pick up the speed, and you’re getting close to triple. If muscles from your feet to your hips (and actually up into your trunk), did not dynamically contract every single time, you would crumble.

This instant tightening of a muscle to resist a load is known as an "eccentric" contraction (pronounced "EE-centric" in this sense). Physiologists can take you into their labs and easily show you how the muscular energy required for an eccentric contraction is greater than in a "concentric" contraction when the muscle is asked to move the same load.

Once the "anti-gravity" muscles have supported the weight of your body on each stride, they are joined by other muscles to drive you forward. Muscularly, the drive is a piece of cake compared to the landing, but it still has to happen quickly and powerfully, thousands of times per run.

The most productive running strength comes from actions where the muscles have to deal with a resistance quickly and dynamically. The very instability you may fear as you contemplate the bars and the weight discs is a vital component of the strength in the muscles that support and guide your running muscles. Let’s get you the confidence to load the discs on the bar, and hoist it! Controlled resistance machines can get you started, and can certainly improve your general muscular conditioning. But, for a runner, they are not the real story.

Nor, mercifully, are the iron-pumping routines that your friends and family may fear when you announce that you are off to the weight room. You are not going to return looking like the Incredible Hulk. Remember, muscles adapt to what they are asked to do. A strength program can get you big muscles if you like. But in order to do so, you have to send "get big" signals to your muscles: heavy load, and relatively few, but inherently strenuous efforts.

What are the signals for muscles to get strong in a way that distance runners can use? First, involve more than one muscle group: running is a chain of actions, nothing is isolated. Second, train the endurance component: keep the muscles moving at a steady rhythm as fatigue increases.

Getting Started in the Weight Room

Some key terms: a repetition ("rep") is an exercise performed once. Reps are grouped together into "sets." A workout, or session, is made up of a planned number of sets. A phase is a time period of a few weeks, during which all the workouts are designed to achieve a specific goal.

As Distance Runners, let’s review some of the differences in our program from more traditional power-speed or body-building approaches. A practical reason for this understanding is that, at times, you may have to explain to intrigued weight room denizens what you are doing. Some of them will appreciate your goals; others know only the body-building routines that gave them denizen status in the first place.



Fifth Annual
Ray Rayl 5K
By Bob Lauderdale
The 2007 Ray Rayl "Mighty Fine" 5K Run/Walk took place on Saturday October 27, 2007.  What a beautiful day for the this event!  The event was quite successful and a good time was had by all!  All monies raised by the race will benefit the Ray Rayl "Mighty Fine" College Scholarship Program
(2 scholarships are given annually to worthy area students), and to SWIRCA (serving the elderly and disabled in our community).  This event is held in honor of a very fine gentleman, Ray Rayl.  Ray contributed countless hours to high school track meets, cross-country meets, and wherever his services were needed.  Ray also had participated in many 5K and 10K races.  Also, he was very involved in the River City Senior Games and the YMCA of SW Indiana.

Thanks to all participants, sponsors and volunteers ~ you made this event a huge success and without your help we could not have done it.

Submitted by: Bob Lauderdale


2005 Ray Rayl 5K Start



Things I Think I Think

I’m often asked
“what’s the hardest thing about running a marathon or an ultra”
 and my answer is always

“getting to the start line”.
                                                    
                       Jerry Seddon



BellBodies Corner
 Awe and inspiration always follow
 the ‘Race for the Cure’
Reprinted from 10/10/05 with the permission of Lisa Bell

     One would think that after participating in the same event for six years, it would become a bit routine. Yet each year I walk away from Race for the Cure with awe and inspiration, humbled to rub shoulders with the mass of humanity investing their entire morning in a common cause, and inspired to witness tireless volunteers organizing an event the size of a city.

     Perhaps this year was significant for me because just two months ago I stood at the bedside of a dear friend dying of breast cancer. She had called me from Arkansas to tell me the tumor had spread to her spine. After weeks of fatigue, pain, and confinement in a recliner, it was a blessing that that my flight arrived the day she felt well enough to get in a car and go out to lunch. We laughed and cried, shared meals and ate late night ice cream. I took pictures of her with her family. Four weeks later I flew back for her funeral.

     I know that breast cancer is not the number one killer of women. Cardiovascular disease takes more lives than the top six cancer killers. It is also true that within the cancer diagnosis, lung cancer claims more lives than breast cancer. But for some reason, more women I have known and loved suffer from breast cancer. Therefore each year I walk.

     I am comforted to stand with others who have known similar pain and loss. Armies of walkers cross the finish line bearing their grief (“in memory of...”) or victory (“in celebration of…”) on bright pink paper on their backs. Entire teams rally around beloved individuals…mothers, sisters, daughters, aunts, friends, and teachers. It is impossible to walk away from the Race unaffected by this public display of private suffering.

     Our contribution seems miniscule: an entry fee and a modest pilgrimage around Eastland Mall proper. The walk itself, about two-thirds of our daily exercise requirement, directly benefits us. And yet its significance in the fight against breast cancer is often overlooked. Would you be surprised to know that exercise has a role in breast cancer prevention, survival, and recovery?

     Studies have shown that increasing physical activity for a few hours per week, regardless of intensity, may help prevent breast cancer in postmenopausal women. That is because exercise decreases estrogen production and reduces body fat. Estrogen, normally secreted by the ovaries, has been shown to proliferate breast and endometrial cancers. Although the ovaries of postmenopausal women no longer secrete estrogen, their fat cells can provide a significant source. Exercise metabolizes estrogen and shrinks fat cells.

     Physical activity may also reduce the risk of death in women who have been diagnosed with breast cancer. Studies have shown that the greatest survival benefit occurs in breast cancer patients who exercise at an average pace the equivalent of three to five hours per week.

     Women who engage in modest exercise while undergoing breast cancer treatment have shown significant physical and emotional benefit in reduced fatigue, pain, and bone marrow depression. These benefits continue after treatment by improving immune function, depression, self-esteem, mood, anxiety, sleep patterns, cognition, and overall quality of life.

     The convincing evidence for exercise underlies the American Cancer Society recommendation that all adults adopt a physically active lifestyle consisting of 30 minutes of moderate exercise 5 days per week; and not just to reduce the risk of breast cancer, but colon cancer, prostate cancer, obesity, heart disease, and diabetes.

     Armed with this knowledge, perhaps the best way to celebrate life is to preserve our own health by moving more every day. Then perhaps we would need fewer Races since we would experience fewer premature goodbyes. 



Jerry's Journals
Stumpys’ Marathon
Newark, Delaware
September 9, 2007

     It seems as though it has been a long time since I’ve run on trails so I think I’ll zip on over to Newark, Delaware for the 6th annual Stumpys’ Marathon.



Maybe I should take a moment here to differentiate between trail races and road races. This particular marathon has never measured 26.2 miles: it’s always a different length, and it’s always longer: the longest being 30 miles, with this years course being “not more than 27”, or so we are told.
Can you imagine what would happen to a road race director (i.e. Gordon Benfield) if any
of his courses were significantly longer than advertised in the race literature????
Trail runners don’t care!
Also, here’s a little sampling from the race literature: “It’s not a trail race if someone doesn’t get lost. Whiners will be immediately disqualified. Don’t blame any race volunteer or organizer if you wander off the trail, can’t find a porta-potty (none), run into a tree, fall down, get attacked by local fauna, get run over when crossing a road, drown in a creek or otherwise injure your body or self-esteem”.
“The race course includes dirt, bugs, water, dirty bugs, dirty water, mud, rocks, roots, fallen trees,
vicious squirrels, snakes, toothless guys (like from Deliverance) and other low-down nasty stuff”.

          I arrive at my hotel on Saturday the 8th at 3:30 pm to 94-degree temperatures. The weatherman has promised me rain for both today and tomorrow but so far – not a drop. I guess I’ll spend the remainder of the day just chillin’ out in my room watching college football.

RACE DAY
     I awake early and make myself some coffee and peanut-butter sandwiches (I always bring my own stuff) and then head out for the race site. After parking the van I make my way over to the ‘sign-in’ table. Hey, look who’s here. It’s Stan Cherim, the fellow with whom I shared a tent back in 2001 while doing a 15-day adventure run in the Andes Mountains of Peru. He tells me that in October he will be going to the Himalayas to climb up to Everest base camp. Stan is 78 years old!

     We’re given the normal pre-race talk: “there are aide stations out there somewhere and some of them are manned – some are not”. “There are no cups, so bring your own”. This is in keeping with the race directors’ philosophy: “no cups, no litter, no fees, no fluff, no expectations, and no complaints”.
Let’s get started!



     Todays’ plan is to ‘push hard’ for the first 4 hours. I’m going to run a lot more than I normally run and when I walk – it’s going to be seriously up-tempo. The rationale being that after 4 hours the temperatures will be in the mid 80’s, rendering me completely useless. I’ll then stagger in the rest of the way.

     Roughly, when at the 7 and 12-mile mark (wherever they are) I’m averaging 12 minutes per mile. The course is up-and-down, up-and-down, and shrouded in trees. There are a number of places where I am compelled to stop and try to figure out the route. The markings are atrocious as advertised (no whining). I’ve come to the first of 2 major stream crossings (the other one doesn’t count because I barely got my feet wet).  The water feels great as it slides over my feet and up my thighs: but, the rocks on the streambed are slick and slimy forcing me to slow myself down in order to stay upright. I exit the water to a number of route choices but I can’t find any markings! I opt to go left and I’m making good time going downstream. After crossing a few footbridges I come to a wide lane – right or left? I decide that there would have to be some trail marking at this juncture so I make the decision to return to the stream: this is never good.


 
     Back on course now and moving well but I’ve come upon an intriguing section off the course. Here, we are required to bushwhack our way through the overgrowth: there is no trail. Ha, because I am so far back in the race this does not present much of a problem to me because I need only follow through the beaten down brush and limbs that will lead me back onto the trail. Still, it’s very hot inside this maze and there’s not enough head clearance for a person to stand erect. I’d much rather be in a stream.

     Although the first half of the course was routed under the cover of trees (about 90% of the time), I notice a different pattern developing over the later half of the course – we are now mostly out in the fields under the full glare of the sun. Ouch! You know, as time goes by it gets harder and harder to think out here but I know that most mistakes occur when a person quits thinking altogether. I can get away with this ‘auto-pilot technique’ when running road races but it produces disastrous results when on the trails: so, I find myself constantly making minor course corrections along the way.



     For a while (short time) I had been tracking a 5-1/2 to 6 hour day but the heat has decided that I will be out here for 6-1/2 hours! Currently, I have been meandering through hot, steaming fields where the high grass has been knocked down; think crop circles. Oh, oh, I just spotted a fellow runner walking his way back to me. “Do you have any idea where we are”, he asks. “I never know where I am”, is my response. Jim and I are really off course: “bonus miles” Jim calls it. After adding quite a bit of distance to an already long course we make our way back onto the course but neither of us can muster the wherewithal to run. We walk it in for what I’m guessing is the last 1-1/2 miles and cross the finish line in 7 hours.

     “I want a refund”, jokes Jim. (There was no entry fee.) In keeping with the race directors ‘wild and crazy’ sense of humor there is no finish medal. Instead, we are awarded ROCKS!

Editor’s note: I sure wish an accomplished trail runner would come forth and submit his/her own journal so that you all could read how it’s supposed to be done!

See you on the trails.

Ps: For any of you who are residents of either Hawaii or Alaska, you should know that Delaware was our first state.




Clarence DeMar Marathon
Keene, New Hampshire
September 30, 2007



     After visiting with my father in Pittsburgh I take to the highways (won’t you lend me your name). I’m off to take part in the 30th annual Clarence DeMar Marathon but before doing so I had opted for a short side trip to Mt. Greylock in Massachusetts. Back on track, I now I find myself near the Vermont/New Hampshire border where I have come upon a road sign that warns ‘MOOSE CROSSING’. I guess “we’re not in Kansas anymore Toto”, applies here.

(Ed’s note: the trees in northeast Pennsylvania were much more colorful than those in either Vt. Or N.H.
                   I’m guessing they had more summer rain in Pa. than they did in these other states.)



     Keene State College is serving as the staging area for the race; with the post race party taking place at Zorn Dining Commons here on campus and it has become immediately apparent to me why the kids all seem to gain weight when they leave home for school: the food is both delicious and varied. Actually, the highlight of the evening is Holly Koester, our guest speaker. She’s a paraplegic and our sole female wheelchair participant. Holly suffered her injury while serving our country in the U.S. Army. They tell us she is 47 years old but her bubbly enthusiasm belies this number and she comes across as a neophyte 22 – 23 year old athlete. To date she has completed in 87 marathons in 41 states, all in her chair.

     Back in my ‘Town and Country’ motel (van) I’m preparing myself for the race and for my 2nd of 3 consecutive nights in the van. Good Night!      

RACE DAY
     I’m up at 5 and breakfast on a bagel, peanut butter and banana sandwich, and a bottle of Gatorade. Next, I make my way over to the gym (toilet), and then over to the buses. We’re to be driven out to Gilsum, a small town (a couple of buildings small) where we must wait outside (in the weather) for 45 minutes. There are 200 + runners and 8:00 am can’t come soon enough.
    
     I just love these small, informal races. They tend to go off on time, with only a “Go” for a sendoff.
    
     In the beginning, the race course is a strip of dark asphalt that wends its’ way through a palette of colors provided by the trees. Hey, who needs porta-johns out here (there were none on the entire course)? Tell me, how can someone 62 years old make a rookie mistake? How can someone who has run 34 marathons and 11 ultras make a rookie mistake? Stupid, that’s how. (Just kidding) Normally in these things my pace is 11+ minutes/mile and yet here I am at the 5-mile mark averaging 10:21’s! I’m going to blame it on the weather. It was 40 degrees at the start and that’s absolutely PERFECT.



     We’re now on the back roads as we course over narrow bridges that span small ponds and lakes, all the while surrounded by deciduous trees. During a walk break I look over to my left and I notice a familiar face. A woman has been hopscotching the course while encouraging her daughter along the way. I wave to her and she yells “Bapu” (Swahili for grandfather). I met her on Mt Kilimanjaro earlier this year.
     
     (Ed’s note: later in the race she stopped me to introduce her husband, and for a short chit-chat.)
    
     I’m now at 10 and my pace is still as rather quick (for me) 10:26, but I’m ‘feeling it’ so I refuse to fret over my newfound speed; my body will let me know when it’s time to slow down. The next 5 miles are just as beautiful as the first 10, only not as easy going. I’m running much more than my usual walk/run schedule dictates but I can deal with it; so far, as I pass by 15 in 2:38:44 (10:35 min/mile).



     Oh, oh, it’s time to pay the piper! After some ‘good ups’, and after 5 more miles of what felt like an up-tempo effort, I’ve reached 20 but I’m still only managing a 10:34 pace. We are now being routed through a small town. Dang, I must have missed a turn. I’m running down a long straightaway and there is no one in front of me. Suddenly a car pulls along side me, “hey, your friend asked me to tell you you’re off course”, yells the driver. Wow, lost in a road race!!!! Oh well, there’s 5-1/2 minutes I’ll never get back. I stumble upon a police officer whose helping us cross a major thoroughfare. “I know where you went wrong”, he says. “A number of other runners got lost there, they should mark that turn”, he opines.

     I’m now re-passing folks that I thought I had ‘put away’, and can see their bewilderment as they react to me going by them once again. I’ve reached 25 in 4:30:18, and muster a 10:20 pace for the final 1.2 miles.

     Would you believe that after a free, ½-hour massage my left (always my left) calf cramps severely as I attempt to put my shoes back onto my feet. Besides the normal post race fare there is a delicious soup that goes a long way in warming me after having lost all my body heat. Next, I lay claim to my drop bag and head for the showers.

     All-in-all this has been a positive experience and if you’re looking for a marathon to run in New Hampshire, you should at least consider the Clarence DeMar Marathon.
     
     (Ed’s note: Clarence DeMar had won more Boston Marathons than
      anyone else, and after retiring from running, he then moved to Keene)



     www.clarencedemar.com



The Breakers Marathon
Newport, Rhode Island

October 20, 2007

www.BreakersMarathon.org

 

If you are contemplating running a marathon in all 50 states + D.C.,

 you will eventually run this race, as it is the only marathon held in Rhode Island.

It is billed as “The biggest race in the littlest state”.

                                 
Day 1: After spending a few days in Pittsburgh with my dad, my brothers and my sisters, I set sail (there’s been a lot of rain) for our smallest state. I now find myself in Connecticut on Highway 95; which serves a corridor when one is traveling N.E. into the New England states. I have plenty of spare time built into my schedule so I’m not really pushing it. After finding a gas/food/rest stop, I settle in for the night. 

Day 2: Wow, it has rained the last 12 hours (and straight thru the night) and it is pouring as I continue northeast. Rather than head directly for Newport (the race site) I’ve opted for a short detour to take in the highpoint of Rhode Island. Jerimoth Hill is situated in the northwest corner of the state on private property, and it tops out at a mere 812 feet. The guidebook directs you to park on the shoulder of the road and walk a short distance until you come upon a maple tree marked with an “X”. There you will find a ‘High Point Bolder’ with a carin built on top of it. There, that wasn’t so bad. I have also absconded with a ‘rock’ from along the highway; it will find a home in my rock garden.

     After a short drive, I arrive in Newport. This town is the ‘quintessential’ tourist trap, albeit an upscale trap. The menu of one restaurant was on display and the desserts started at $9.00. Anyhow, it has taken me quite a bit of time to locate the race headquarters because none of the locales are even remotely aware that there is an event of any kind taking place tomorrow.

Picture from Newport Beach

     I’m sorry; but, what these folks call an ‘expo’, I find woefully lacking. There is one table set up and they seem to be selling candles; you know, arts and crafts!!!! After paying my entry fee and locating the shower (planning ahead) I scrounge about for a place to bed down for the evening. Land is at a premium here so I’ve driven a little north to the outskirts of the next town where I discover an empty lot that had once served as a ‘drive thru eatery’.  Now if only the police won’t notice me tucked away back here under the trees, I should be fine. Hmmmm, while preparing my gear for tomorrows’ race, I’ve discovered that someone has forgotten to pack my running socks.  Fortunately I am able to find a climbing store that handles ‘ultimax’ socks. Whew….talk about dodging a bullet!!! I guess I’ll eat and call it a night. 

Day 3: The van endured a major attack from the skies as torrential rains and high winds befell us from
7 pm to midnight: and it then settled into a constant rain until 2:00 am. After a ½-hour respite, the rain began anew. At 5:30 am (wake up time), it is still raining. In spite of the fact the race starts at 8:00 am, it’s 6:10 am when I pull into a much-coveted parking spot near the start line (and showers). Believe me, I’m not the only the only person thinking along these lines. 

(Ed’s note: This will be my last comment on the rainy weather. It rained as I drove from
Newburgh, In. to Columbus, Ohio as I made my way to Pgh. It rained on my drive to
Rhode Island and it rained the entire night before the race.  It rained during my return
 drive to Pgh and it poured the entire 9 hours of my journey from Pgh to home.

It never rained a drop during the race.)

 
RACE TIME

 

     The pre-race ceremony is an inspirational rendition of the Star Spangled Banner that is enhanced by the presence of Old Glory, as it is the hope of one of the runners to tote our flag o’er hill and dale, from start to finish.

     The start is situated in the heart of Newport where the streets are quite narrow and uneven so one must take great care at this stage of the race. Over the years I’ve learnt that all my pre-race strategies go out the window once the gun goes off and the adrenaline starts to flow; so, I must come up with todays’ plan of attack by mile 1. The plan is  “I’m going to try to run sub 11’s for the first half of the run and then – fall apart”. Pretty good plan, huh?

     Do you know the worst thing about running marathons? Easily, that would be standing in line for a porta-john at the 3-mile mark while watching the entire world go passing by – yuck! Oh well, I’m back in the game and arrive at mile 5 averaging 10:45’s. The course carries us out to waters edge (Narraganset Bay, Rhode Island Sound, and Easton’s Bay) and this provides instant relief from the high humidity that hangs over ever portion of the course that lies (even just a tad) inland.

     Ten has come and gone (10:40m/m) and I’m maintaining a very even tempo because the terrain (albeit uneven) presents only minor grades for us to deal with. As usual, I am driving people crazy with my ‘comings and goings’ (run/walk strategy) and I warn them all to not allow me to mess with their pace. I seem to have this affect on people!!!

     I’ve missed the 13-mile mark (going too fast!) and there is no ½-marathon indicator, so I do my time check at 15 (10:42m/m) as I look more and more forward to my walk breaks. “Don’t back off just yet”, I tell myself as I move away from the cooling effects of the open water, and head inland somewhere near 17. Already I notice a drop in intensity as I struggle with my pace. The most common comments I overhear from the near-by runners all center on the ‘humidity’. Although the ‘degree of difficulty’ for the course has been increasing I find myself at the 20-mile mark while maintaining an acceptable 10:51 pace.

     And now things are about to change. Mile 21 proves to be my slowest mile owing to the fact that is 80% uphill. I feel really guilty walking this much this early in a race; but, not guilty enough to do anything about it. Easily, these closing miles have given an entirely different persona to this course. I’m now climbing my way up to and beyond 25 and I’m convinced our race director will be sentenced to Hades for this diabolical display of his sense of humor!!!! As I rush (?) to cross the line the clock reads 4:49:54 (11:03’s) which tells me I have slowed to an 11:42m/m pace over the last 10K. Quite a drop off; but I’ll take it. 

     Easton’s Beach servers as the finish area and it is located 1.2 miles from our starting point at the Newport Yachting Club, thus requiring the need for shuttle buses. With legs to tired to support me any longer, I plop down onto the asphalt in the parking lot and await my turn for a bus. A few other ‘knackered’ runners also employ this post-race strategy of mine.

     After being ‘dropped’ of at the starting area, I retrieve my bag from the van and make my way over to the showers, and then to the post-race food tables. We are provided with the normal fare that one grows to expect at events such as this, but these dudes have gone beyond the call of duty as they serve up some delicious clam chowder and lobster w/drawn butter!!!!

     With calves-a-cramping and weary to the bone, I decide on an hour nap before beginning my drive back to Pgh. After putting 200 miles in my rear view mirror I spend the next 11 hours inside my sleeping bag. I’m thinking 3 marathons in the last 6 weeks are beginning to exact a toll.

RACE RUNDOWN 

1) I was really caught off guard by the high humidity (next to the ocean).

2) Pasta dinner – NONE!

3) The police were out in full force in an attempt to protect us but the traffic really presented us with a          serious obstacle to overcome, especially later in the race as we made our way back into town.

4) Volunteers were great. 

5) Aid stations were adequate. 

6) Course – not overly difficult but seriously back-loaded. 

7) Post race food was over the top – it was lobster. 

8) None of this matters if you must ‘do’ Rhode Island. It’s their only marathon.