A dream awakening

What for me began as a dream last November is now becoming a reality. Early Saturday morning I took-off from rainy Detroit to arrive 90 minutes later in summery Albany, New York. The flight was uneventful and at the baggage claim area we were awaited and welcomed by Ignition staff members. After an airport lunch we boarded the passenger-van to travel to Lake Placid. The route to the Olympic village was scenic and the Adirondack Mountain range with its deep blue water lakes, presented under a sunny sky, made for some picture perfect moments. My farewells at home over the last several days were wonderful and the hellos and reunion with the team at the village were equally exhilarating.

Boot camp is what it is, and we are busy preparing for the kick-off on Friday morning. Hands-on, and classroom style instructions, presentations, photo-shoots and team building exercises are on the agenda. We used the Olympic gym and massage center and learned the finer art of massage, fleurage and effleurage, and became familiar with some alternate stretches for our pre- and post runs. Yesterday the sports psychologist taught us our Blue planet anthem, a beautiful song of giving light, teaching peace, standing together and giving hope. We sang our heart's content and then last night from 9:00 till midnight we topped it off with a practice run through the surroundings of the Lake Placid Olympic village.

While on the global run, we will pass through a little under 1,500 exchange points, where the baton is passed from one relay runner to the next. Here media and curious locals can gather, meet and greet the runners, and hear the run message that will be recited during the exchange. It is here that we hope to touch as many people as we can on our planet route, to share and to invite people to give enlightenment and purpose to over a billion people that do not have safe drinking water today. It is here that we come together and give hope!

The Blue Planet Run Message
By Adrian Lurssen

We run like water. We run FOR water.

We run to bring news to every person in every town we pass through—urgent news of a crisis that affects one in five of all of us on this earth.

We run to remember the sons and daughters, the mothers and fathers, the 6,000 human beings who die every day, because they lack safe drinking water.

We run because time, and water – essential to our existence – is running out for all of us.

We run to tell a story that begins with suffering but ends with hope.

We run to include you in the story. You are the solution. Commitment is our only obstacle.

We run to tell a story that ends like this: twenty years from now we will have joined together to bring water – to bring life – to 200 million people around the world.

We run because, in the words of the Iroquois thanksgiving prayer printed on the baton we carry with us: “Water is life.”

“We give thanks to all the Waters of the world for quenching our thirst and providing us with strength. Water is life. We know its power in many forms - waterfalls and rain, mists and streams, rivers and oceans. With one mind, we send greetings and thanks to the spirit of water.

Now our minds are one.”

Corporate response

Every time I tell someone that I will be circumventing the world for the blue planet foundation initiative, the response most always is congratulatory, followed by some elaborate explanations and then a final question: “What about your job”? Most certainly a fair question to ask and one I often have contemplated myself prior to the acknowledgement of my participation in the blue planet run. Fortunately for me, I work for Akzo Nobel, a Dutch multi national not unfamiliar to corporate social responsibility and an organization that over the years has done much to support local communities on all five continents.

Although, not an automatic “shoe-in” the company responded with a justifiable three months leave of absence, if a temporary solution could be found for my vacated job during my absence. Elated with the response we found lots of support and willingness from my employees and other corporate citizens and I feel very good about the final arrangements. And so after the Memorial Day holiday I start my LOA, leaving behind a great group of co-workers who undoubtedly will keep an eye out for me at work and on the rocky road ahead. And thus I thank Akzo Nobel and all my friends and colleagues locally and globally for their grandiose interest and magnificient support!

Last weekend home - May 22, 2007

Springtime is finally here to stay and the dogwoods are in full bloom. Flowers are decorating the landscape and the fragrant sweet scent of snow-white Convallaria majalis, otherwise known as lily-of-the-valley is filling the air. The vernal equinox is easily my favorite season and a welcome change from the cold and snowy wintry weather. Friday night we celebrated the Sabbath with our friends Lon and Jane, who stopped in for the day on their way to Frankenmuth. After dinner we headed for Temple service at Temple Israel where we sang in the Sabbath bride and listened to a great sermon delivered by Rabbi Tisdale, reminiscing over the great and splendid past of the city of Detroit, and the belief that, the city will surely rebound and reinvent itself to return to its previous grandeur.

Towards the end of the service Rabbi Bennett stepped onto the Bimah and prepared the congregation for the Aleinu. From behind the lectern, after adjusting the microphone to match his height, he began with the words: “As you all know I am a runner … I immediately perked up and wondered how this unusual intro would bring us to the ancient prayer of thanks. Instead he connected it to the Blue Planet run and the journey I am about to undertake. Totally unexpected I was invited up to the Bimah to open the Ark. With Anne at my side we opened the glass sliding doors, bringing the Torah scrolls into clear view, and felt blessed and fulfilled with the unexpected honor.

Saturday morning we had brunch at Sunny’s Café, a local diner tucked away in a strip mall nearby. Under a giant mural depicting a moment of Capote’s Novella “breakfast at Tiffany’s” we enjoyed a scrumptious Greek omelet under the watchful eyes of Hepburn and Peppard. The food was great, the company exquisite and time stood still if only for a moment. Before long, and way too soon, Lon and Jane's visit came to an end and shortly after the noon hour they went on their merry way to the wedding party up North.

For Sunday morning I had signed up for the West Bloomfield rock and road 10K run, which offered a smorgasbord of asphalt roads, graveled trails and a grassy field. While many of my friends from Running Fit competed for time and placement, for me it was a final testing of the engine and various running parts. All turned out all right and the tune up concluded uneventfully in slightly under fifty-one minutes. After the early morning workout and some salty chips with guacamole dip at the finish line, I headed back home to return to my forever lengthy to-do lists.

Blue planet friends

From left to right and top to bottom:1. Michael 2. Andrea 3. Lon and Jane 4. My Russian tutor: Irina 5. Horizon Health Care: David Betts, D.C. and Krisztina 6. Robin, Jean and Deborah 7. Running Fit: Dave, Fritz, Lori, Melanie, Tom, Jan, Will, Arlinda

Going for a run – May 19, 2007

By next week I will be on my way to the Olympic village in Lake Placid for blue planet boot camp. There we will find out the make-up of the five relay teams and receive the complete instructions and logistics details for the blue planet run. Then finally, on June first we will hit the pavement, marking the beginning of a 15,200-mile journey around the world.

In preparation for going on this run I have made some lists. To-do lists for home projects and work projects to be finished before take-off. Then there are shopping- and packing lists and a check-off list for things already in process. My passport is somewhere at one of the foreign embassies awaiting fancy visa stamps from Russia, Belarus, China or Mongolia. My newly acquired regular- and sunglass frames are being fitted with progressive, scratch resistant lenses and will next week be ready for pick-up. Over the last several weeks I paid visits to my doctor and dentist, chiropractor, massage and physical therapist and underwent check-ups, alignments and adjustments. An ankle strain, incurred on one of my practice runs, put me on ice and heat packs. Medical advice had me elevated, wearing compression sleeves and greased-up with muscle balm and therapeutic warming ointment. My physical therapist, apparently knowing me better than myself, had threatened to put me in a glass box with the door shut, but after the incident changed her mind to a padded room with the key safely out of sight! “Stay healthy and off the trails”, she said with a threatening voice. “You worked way too hard to now blow it on one of your crazy run-arounds!” Oi Vay, that Tracey can be so tough!

Back at home, maps have become part of the décor. Mounted on a poster board and tagged with colored pins the Europe map is staged on a paint easel in one of the kitchen corners. I have practically memorized the route and am contemplating taking some Russian lessons, just enough to be dangerous during the twenty-three day Soviet land crossing.

But that’s not all! With our favorite daughter moving into a new apartment we drove to Chicago to come to her aid. With a carload full of Ikea furniture we went to work and assembled her kitchen-, living- and bathroom furniture. We hang curtains and mounted shelves until the wee hours and accomplished all with very little shuteye. While in Chicago we managed to get in a sushi meal and stopped-off at the mystical gallery where the elderly Seminole Indian lady foretold our future! The year ahead looked full of promise with guardian angels on alert and ready for action. Every card I picked, conjectured good fortune and with renewed confidence and a big smile we paid our dues and left the semi-dark eerie abode!

Then there is my electronics list. I had bought a new notebook for the occasion and added a PDA with wireless keyboard, mobile phone, GPS, compact digi camera, ipod shuffle and a four-gig scandisk. Now up to speed with the latest Hi Fi, Wi Fi, Blue tooth and skype technology I am ready to take on the world and communicate from whatever and wherever landmass! Add to that some electrical juice and there is another suitcase just for all the different transformers, converters and batteries. Fortunately Radio Shack had a "special" I couldn’t refuse, on a universal converter. I promise it will come in handy!

Oh, and did I mention my running gear and accessories with enough clothes to last between weekly laundry services? Four pair of running shoes, power bars, glucose tablets, sunscreen and borealis Buzz-Off mosquito repellent. And lets not forget my royal Dutch orange bandanas, a water bottle, and the Stick, just to name some other items on that short list. Ofcourse there is more, but I will leave it with that. As you can see, it takes a bit of planning to go for a run, but it will all be worth it in the end! I will be ready and hope that you are too, because we are going on a journey to enrich the lives of 1.2 billion people. So give them a hand and I will do the running for you!

Water is life – May 19, 2007

Unlike you or me, over one billion people on earth have no safe drinking water. Women and children may walk up to 6 hours a day to get water, and even then, it may not be enough, or safe enough to drink. Many drink contaminated water and then get sick. 2.2 million human beings die each year from water borne illnesses. 6,000 people die every day and 240 children die every hour. But there is hope. Click this short video link and watch what is going on in front of our very own eyes, mostly unnoticed, and find out what we collectively can do to solve this crisis.

For the record - May 18, 2007

Although having lived in the United States for the last thirty years as a legal alien, I have never become an American passport holder. As such I consider myself a global citizen, calling Holland, Israel and the United States all home, and am proud as a Dutch American Jew, or is it Jewish American Dutchman, to represent the Netherlands for the blue planet run. I have traveled extensively through Europe, the Middle East and North and Central America and in the early seventies spent time in Israel on kibbutz Sdot Yam working the land and studying Hebrew. It was there that I met Anne and together we traveled the country several times over, from Ras Muhammad in the Sinai dessert to Mount Hermon in the Golan Heights. We went to seminars and Kallahs in Ramallah in the West Bank, where under the watchful eyes of the military we listened to lectures on Jewish religion, history, Israeli politics and the Arab conflict. We walked the land where biblical- and Jewish history was made, from Mount Sinai, Massada and the caves of Bar Kochba.

After almost a year, it was time to go "home", and three years later Anne and I married and settled in the US where we spent the last thirty years between Seattle, Atlanta and West Bloomfield, Michigan. I am a Reform Jew and believe in a pluralistic approach to life and a respect for all human beings, regardless of persuasion or background. During my professional career I have held and enjoyed positions in the life sciences field (NOAA) and sales and services management (Akzo Nobel). For fun I seek the outdoors and enjoy camping, hiking and kayaking. I am a runner and a bike rider (road and trail), enjoy marathons and century rides and look to expand and enrich my fitness activities to include triathlons with the ultimate goal to one day do an Iron man.

So running and traveling the world has been good to me, but when I lace up my running shoes now it conjures up a feeling far greater than before. The blue planet run is so much more than a foot race around the world. It is an initiative to instill an attitude towards reaching out to those in need of safe drinking water and by doing so repair the world and making it a better place to live for everyone. This is what inspires me daily and it feels good to be alive and able to contribute to a better tomorrow.

Why I run the planet - May 17, 2007

We continue to live in a world of disparity. While one side of the globe is handed opportunity and good fortune, the other half is struggling to survive under conditions most of us can’t even imagine. Born in the Netherlands, and currently making a living in the United States, I have lived a sheltered life without concern for basic life essentials. Having taken all of that for granted while growing up, I now as an adult am very aware of this imbalance and feel the need for speed.

With less than two weeks to go before the kick-off in New York City, I am contemplating the potential we will awaken by this race around the world. Each runner has been assigned a village in need of a water project, and my designated village is Nafadji in Mali, Africa. For sure you will be reading more about my newly inherited friends-in-need over the duration of the run. I am hopeful that together we can bring safe drinking water to Nafadji and similar communities all over the world and by doing so eradicate waterborne diseases often resulting in tragic and unnecessary death.

Yes, we are collectively responsible to take care of one and other, near and far, no matter what creed, color or religion. Only by our actions can we be an example for our children, so that they can learn this most valuable life lesson and sustain this obligation from generation to generation. Because making a positive difference is our duty and should be a human response for living on this planet. Please share the wealth and reach out generously to the people of Nafadji and similar communities all over the world in desperate need of safe drinking water.

Dancing with dirt – April 29, 2007

For this weekend, I decided to try something new and signed up for the “not for wimps” trail half marathon. It was a beautiful spring morning and the terra firma was alive with fresh green ground cover and budding trees. Silver lake glistened in the morning sun and the blue sky finished off this artistic rendering, except, this landscape was for real and it felt great to be part of the scenery. Through the trees, the sunlight painted a surreal smile on the trails below and brought the dormant shrubbery back to life. The trails were scenic and circumvented crooked- and half moon lake, adding a wilderness flavor to this unique Michigan nature preserve. To best describe the topography of the route, picture an upside down saw blade interspersed with some long and sharp teeth.

The down hills were a blast, but at times gravity pushed me beyond my comfort zone. At mile marker five, I tripped and fell, smashed my face into the dirt and busted my glasses. It was actually somewhat of an adrenaline rush and soon I was running again, but now with a muddy facial bruise and without the twenty-twenty vision. At mile seven on the downhill I hit a pothole and severely twisted my ankle and let out some obscenity not appropriate to repeat but permissible for the outdoors. Able to finish the race and shortly after crossing the finish line I jumped into the freezing-cold water of Silver Lake to “ice” my ankle. That felt good! After the pothole encounter I had several near misses as tiny tree stumps and exposed tree roots seemed to be lurking around every corner. At times I would trip, fall forward, but miraculously by franticly throwing my arms up in the air in some half circular fashion, maintain my balance, and most importantly, remained up right thrusting through the woods! The occasional sound of a “stud dud” in front and back of me reassured me that I wasn’t the only amateur on the trials. In the end “dancing with dirt” was a blast and a truly magnificent new experience.

Load your canon – April 27, 2007

On and off, over the last twelve months I have frequented MIHP with weekly visits. Without the initial biomechanical assessment and those tailor made workout programs my performance level would most likely have flattened out. It was Tracy who instilled the runner in me and taught me how to load my cannon. Often people convince themselves that they can’t run because of weak ankles or knees, back pains or hip injuries, but MIHP has turned many a non-believer into a performance athlete!

Performance enhancement is all about symmetry, the correct body alignment and the three planes of motions. Mix that with a solid dose of desire, motivation and discipline and the sky is the limit. To quote MIHP: "While most conventional workouts emphasize movement in the front-to back plane, real life happens in rotation at the hips, knees and mid back"! Forces will always take the path of least resistance. The key is to make the right path the easy one to travel.

Train movements, not muscles. Train integration not isolation! It took me a while to catch on to that concept, but it has definitely improved my core muscle strength and performance. Thank you Tracy for giving me the ammunition to be a runner and the confidence to run around the world.

From left to right: Joyce - office manager, Tracy - Director of Performance Enhancement, Sherry - Physical Therapist and founder M.I.H.P. Kelliey - Personal Trainer, Carol - Personal Trainer

London global announcement – April 19, 2007

Being both from Michigan, Sunil and I met in flight on the way to London and shared a cab ride into town. George our cabbie was more than happy to spill the beans over local politics and out-of-control inflation. Rather sooner than later he was going to "give it up" and move to France where things are so much better! The forty-minute cab ride took almost an hour as the British host took us on a generous sightseeing tour by way of Wimbledon, to show off this world-renowned tennis haven! He maneuvered skillfully through the crowded narrow streets of this picturesque little town, contrasted by its massive stadiums in final renovation for the upcoming annual tennis tournament. George yakked non-stop about cricket and horse races of which I knew nothing, but his dry British humor made for an entertaining ride. At long last we reached the Tower hotel where, with a big smile, he dropped us off at the front door lobby!

While in London, the weather was glorious and perfect for running. The mornings were cool and crisp with clear skies and little or no wind. Sunil and I ran with the early birds, starting out at the Tower Bridge, along side the river Thames, passed the St. Paul’s Cathedral, and somehow from there found our way back to the hotel. We wove in and out of pedestrian traffic, and occasionally ran a red light, in pursuit of a decent workout. Refreshed after our running excursion, back at the hotel, an elaborate and nutritious spread of English breakfast awaited us.

The announcement ceremony on the top floor of the Tate Modern was an exciting and celebratory affair. Each runner, while running up on stage, was introduced to the media, by Dame Kelly Holmes, gold medallist of the 2004 Athens Olympics. Cameras clicked away and several media interviews were arranged. After the reception the running team, dressed in blue training suits, moved outdoors where additional photo-shoots by the river with the magnificent St. Paul’s as backdrop, captured some great glamour shots with miss Kelly. The next morning at the crack of dawn I was on “ontbijt radio”, for a life Dutch radio show, and by mid-morning was jet setting my way home via Gatwick airport, charmingly named after a goat farm, formerly located on the site of today’s Great Britain’s second busiest gateway to the world.

London global announcement – April 18, 2007

It was mid-April when twenty ecstatic and exuberant runners, boarded their planes from just about all four corners of the world, with London as their final destination. We had been recruited by the blue planet foundation, an NGO founded by Jin Zidell, who several years earlier master minded the idea of a foot race around the world, to draw attention to the lack of potable drinking water, affecting 20% of the world population. The purpose of this get-together and international extravaganza, in one of Europe’s most effluent and Royal metropolis, was organized to officially announce Dow Chemical’s sponsorship and partnership for the Blue Planet run, as well as to formally introduce its foot soldiers to the world.

Not surprisingly, the inaugural runner team varying in ages from 23 to 60, spanning a multitude of different nationalities, cultural upbringings and a variety of athletic backgrounds, turned out to have a lot in common. Without exception we are all adventurous, enjoy travel, love to run and most importantly have a desire to make our world a better place to live! All of us have our unique stories to tell, and had an opportunity to do some of that in London during formal and informal meetings and meal times. Once acquainted, we quickly became family, and our common goal exuded a positive energy and aura. As for me I am thrilled and honored to be part of this great and multi-talented group of relay runners and look forward, with full anticipation, to the kick off on June 1, when we will begin our journey from the steps of the United Nations building in downtown New York city.

Happy trails

It was a cold and dreary morning, that early wintry day in February. Our training run had taken us on a Detroit City tour, with a post-run community activity at the local soup kitchen in the basement of Saint Leo’s church. Bundled up in several layers of running gear, the nine of us had started out on our eight mile loop at 7:30 in the morning, and it was here on this gray and blustery Monday morning that the idea of doing an ultra marathon came about. A 50K trail run on the occasion of Kai’s fiftieth birthday had been planned for early spring, and after the Blue Planet run last year it seemed an appropriate challenge for the new year.

With a few trail training runs under my belt, but not nearly enough to be fully prepared for this fifty-kilometer distance classic, peppered with some sixty-five hundred feet of exaltations, the five of us boarded the plane to San Francisco. The flight had been delayed for forty-five minutes due to a fuel leak, but at long last was given the “go ahead.” Barely in our seats, we were ushered off the plane again as the mechanical problem reared its ugly head once more and caused the plane to be taken out of circulation. Two hours after the original flight departure time, we jetted into the moonlit sky. Upon our midnight arrival, we split up for the night, and within minutes of stepping outside the arrival terminal, my shuttle service drove up to the curbside to chauffeur me to his home to spend the night. 

By the time I rolled out of bed at my Uncle Mel’s homestead, the sun had already burned off the morning fog. The panoramic lookout from the backyard boasted a magnificent view of the bay area, with the airport showcased center stage. Out in the distance, a string of planes were lined up in the sky for a final approach, and soon thereafter, one-by-one, touched down for a perfect landing, each time setting off a plume of smoke where the rubber met the tarmac. A spotter’s paradise to say the least! But there was no more time to watch the comings and goings of these shiny birds in flight, as the main event was early Sunday morning, some ninety miles south in the Big Basin Redwood National Park.

 
1. Golden gate 2. Daughter Malka, cousin Judy 

Shortly before noon, we turned the corner for a leisurely drive to our base camp at Boulder Creek. The ride took us alongside the infamous San Andreas Fault by way of acres of vineyards and a long-lost hippy town leftover from the seventies. As we inched closer to our final destination, the trees became taller and wider, lining both sides of the winding road, ultimately leading us to the park entrance. After a short walkabout through the redwoods we ventured back out to rendezvous with the rest of the team at Scopazzi’s, a stylish and cozy Italian restaurant near the golf creek villas, -- our hangout for the night. We turned in by 11:00, and I finally dozed off after sufficiently having muffled my ears from the tumultuous surround sound of dozens of croaking bullfrogs in the pond directly outside of my window.  

 
1. Dress rehearsal Pontiac trails 2. Kai, Karin, Jean, Lori

As it turned out, the 50K trail run in the Big Basin* Redwoods was a challenging and strenuous endeavor, however beautiful, serene, and very peaceful. Some of the ascends along the way were so steep that I had to push my quads to keep in motion. On the other hand, the descends were a RUSH!!!! It was a running affair extraordinaire, jumping over rocks, roots, branches and smaller potholes on a sometimes narrow undulating meandering trail, carpeted with a soft, decaying organic matter. At times, from up high, I could see the glistening of a narrow stream flowing gently down below. If this is what heaven is like, sign me up! Of course that was my exalted state of mind for the first 25K as we avidly storm-trooped into the forest shortly after 8:30 in the morning! The second time around, three and a half hours later, the engine was shifted into a lower gear, sputtering during moments of steep inclinations, almost forging anaerobic conditioning. 

While by mid morning, the weather was a balmy eighty degrees, down under the canopy, these towering gentle giants sufficiently shadowed the forest floor, keeping it to an ambient and comfortable temperature. The odoriferous smell of the majestic redwoods and the smoky scent emitted by the charcoaled tree trunks and stumps from a recent fire were, in a way, refreshing and invigorating, and the fizzle and sizzle of the rushing water spilling over the edge into the emerald colored stream down below made for some picture perfect moments!
 
In the open, where the light managed to come through, the underbrush was alive with fresh green leaves, and three leaf clovers perked up into the sky, flaunting their delicate bell shaped flowers. An abundance of ferns flourished along the creek and around the falls, and tanoaks and stands of madrone provided enough shade to keep them out of the direct sunlight. On the backside of the 9K loop, after the seemingly never ending uphill, the trail changed its geography to a chaparral-type environment, exposing the trailblazers to the bright and burning sun. The shrubbery was in full bloom, painting the hillsides in a soft, indigo haze, making it a perfect habitat for bumblebees, honeybees and a variety of stinging wasps to forage. Perhaps it was yonder in the forest where they nested and where, in a previous year, some runners were attacked by a swarm of aggravated hornets!
 
After the first rounds of 17K and 9K loops, the runners were sufficiently dispersed that it became a solo run for me, with an occasional encounter of Japanese hikers clearing the way on approach. They applauded as I went by, and wished me a friendly, “Good luck!” I wanted to stop and tell them what Paul Tergat told me once: “Luck is not what we runners need! We have trained too hard for this. Only success is what matters!!” But then again, I hadn’t trained so hard for this event and thus carried on without making a fuzz.
 
The wildlife was limited to banana slugs, blue jays and squirrels, although black-tailed deer, bobcats and coyotes were also listed to exist in this habitat. The crows were cawing away in the eerie forest, perhaps hoping for a dehydrated or injured runner to fall off the trails. By now, with the weather having sufficiently heated up and the intensity of the workout requiring more hydration, I had run low on Gatorade and was getting nauseous carb-loading on my margarita-flavored shot blocks! It would be at least another thirty minutes before reaching the Gazos Creek Picnic area for a chance to re-hydrate and take in some insipid salt capsules.
 
As thoughts of feathered vultures evaporated into the mid-day air, the Big Basin wilderness continued to be full of adventure, when all of a sudden, in the still and dark and mighty forest, at less than a hundred feet away from me, I spotted a black bear unpretentiously hanging out near the trail. His shiny black fur and chestnut brown fuzzy ears were not as cute now in the open as when watched from behind bars in a zoo! I looked back and ahead, but there was not a soul in sight. While slowly and softly tiptoeing forward, my head was spinning on what to do next. And then, just like magic, this life-limiting forest hazard transformed into a burned out tree trunk! Paranoia had come and gone, and now with some extra adrenaline, caused by my near-miss bear attack, I rushed up the hills!!

At the aid station, fully stocked with salty and sugary snacks, fresh fruits and boiled potatoes, Uncle Mel greeted me with an enthusiastic “There he is!” I refueled and refreshed, took in some tasty sweets, vivaciously shared my running experience in paradise with Coach Melvin and soon was back out on the trail following the yellow markers for the second and final repeat. All in all, it took seven hours and fifty three minutes to complete this challenging but scenic wilderness run, at times crawling under or climbing over fallen tree trunks. Although exhausting, it was at the same time exhilarating! It felt good to finally join the ranks of ultra marathoner, and crossing the finish line made it official. My goal was to finish under eight hours and so I did. After all that, it was time to power down the engine and replenish my battered physique with several servings of spicy chili and hot chicken soup. 

Never give up

As “luck” may have it, three weeks prior to the Miami marathon, I injured myself seven miles into my long run and was diagnosed with a severe calf strain. Medical advice escorted me to the sideline with at least four weeks of no running! Upset and angered by my fate I resorted to physical therapy, massages and a prayer for a minor miracle, but by the time race day came around I did not feel at all encouraged to successfully taking on the challenge at hand. Twice before, in Dublin and Ottawa, I had been in similar predicaments and miraculously pulled through at the end, so could there possibly be a “three times is a charm” outcome in Miami?

At the Miami expo I purchased some calf compression sleeves and decided that I would try out these ugly black neoprene support hoses and see if they could carry me to the finish line. For this race my objective no longer included a new personal best or a qualifying time for Boston. This time there was neither time nor distance pressure as the big test was reduced to whether or not I could run part of the marathon course let alone finish the whole enchilada.

Not well rested with only four hours of sleep the night before the race I showed up at 5:30 in the morning at the Bay front Park for the start of the Miami marathon with 9,000 other marathon and half marathon runners. Thirty minutes before the race the forecasted rain started to come down and shortly thereafter turned into a tropical downpour. By the time the start gun went off we were soaked to the bone and waded through two inches of standing water towards the start banner on our way to the Macarthur Causeway linking downtown Miami with South Beach.

I had hydrated well and carb loaded with pesto pasta at La Gastronomia, a cozy authentic Italian restaurant in Coral Gables and spent my final waiting time before the start of the race doing my newly acquired MIHP yoga stretches. Curious bystanders looked at me bewildered wondering what in the world I was trying to do. Nan, a local friend and massage therapist had treated me to a final deep tissue massage two nights earlier at Jerry’s famous Deli over a dish of eggplant penna pasta and a Corona garnished with a fresh slice of lime, and nothing that could have possibly be done to ease the pain had been overlooked.

Highly conscience of my temporary injury and the possibility of further injuring myself I started the foot race insecure of myself, analyzing every step of the way! The runner crowd at the start was constrictive but contrary to the New York marathon this was actually a good thing, forcing me to a slower pace. As we turned the corner I survived my first hurdle a slight bridge incline, with flying colors and on the down slide could see the three mile long Causeway contoured by a string of purple lights reflecting off the waterway. It was still dark and the silhouettes of four majestic cruise ships towering over the port of Miami painted an exotic maritime picture.

Half way across the Macarthur I was still standing and running and in the distance could faintly see the shoreline with its art deco pastel green, blue and pink high-rise buildings. The rain had subsided and the darkness gave way to the dawn’s early light. Some sunrays streaked through the clouds over the Atlantic Ocean and temperatures were a humid sixty degrees. My shorts were still drenched and clinging to my legs, and my feet were squeaking in my soaking wet socks and new Cumulus Asics running shoes. I wore an orange singlet with matching bib and shoelaces in sync with the ING color scheme. A few onlookers were out on the sideline consuming their coffee and donuts and as we got closer to the half way mark the crowds grew both in size and sounds!

Somewhat pleased to still be running I zoned in on the course ahead looking for the orange mile markers while at the same time circumventing the puddles of brackish brown rainwater in potholes, around corners and low spots on the road. At six miles I was feeling no pain but my time was atrocious! Could I have gone faster? Should I perhaps click it up a notch? Somewhat tempted but undecided on what to do I kept within my comfort zone! At the ten-mile marker I clocked in at ninety two minutes, ten minutes slower then what I was accustomed to. Annoyed and disgusted with the results, reality finally set in what I had already known from the onset but not really wanted to accept. This race was over before it began and now any miracle glimmer of hope of finishing with a Boston qualifying time dissipated into the humid morning sky! While the legs were doing its thing the psychological warfare took over with questions of “what if” scenarios.

By eight o’clock the Floridian landscape had come alive and the volunteers at the hydration stations were enthusiastic and plentiful serving up Gatorade and water at every mile along the way. The Miami River glistened and rippled gently underneath the Venetian Causeway and around the five Venetian Isles as we continued on the return loop towards the half way marker at Bay front Park. The ING Cheering zones were a spectacle of orange mambo jambos. A tumultuous sea of supporters face painted from top to bottom in Royal Dutch orange and decked out with ING thunder sticks and noise makers. An adrenaline rush for sure! At the second cheering zone and close to the half marathon break away point I encountered my dedicated support group of two. Anne and Chaim were waving from the sideline, camera ready and holding up a cheering sign saying: Ruuuuuuudy Go!! And lo and behold I found some extra rocket fuel to boost my gluts and hamstrings into CHI running orbit!

Admittedly close to the half marathon break away point thoughts of calling it quits and finishing the run on a half marathon distance crossed my mind. When setting out for a half marathon the famous Penguin saying: “Half the distance twice the fun” is certainly appropriate because that was the objective, but conversely once committed to “Twice the distance half the fun” the same rule must apply. And so with already two hours under my belt I began my second half!

The mind over matter decision quickly faded once I passed the fourteen-mile marker point. I remembered one of my Alaska running cruise mentors tell me once that not every race can be a good one and to capitalize on those that feel good and back off and enjoy the ride on the others. His Paris marathon was one of those blooper runs and consequently he hopped on and off the course at corner cafes to enjoy some European mélange and fine pastries. He eventually crossed the finish line and lived to tell about it. With that advice in mind I decided to do exactly that and take-in the scenery, socialize with other runners and at one point ended up giving a helping hand to a fellow runner that had crashed into the concrete due to some leg cramp. Together we walked off his malady and before long he was running again. The blind leading the blind sort of speak.

The weather had warmed up to a balming seventy-five degrees and at eighteen miles my quads began to fill up with lactic acid making my legs uncomfortable and heavy, a phenomenon I hadn’t experienced during my last three marathons. The course took us through the beautiful and lush residential neighborhoods of Coral Gables and Coconut Grove. Poinciana palm trees were part of the local flora and provided for some occasional reprieve from the hot and muggy morning sun. The locals were out and about sitting in lawn chairs, some offering cool refreshing water running from their garden hoses and others still in bathrobes with “men’s best friend” tight on a leash watching the field of runners go by.

The twenty-mile marker point was the turning point to the finish line and around the corner a brass band staged behind the bleachers was playing “When the Saints come marching in”! Further down the road a pair of Bongo players provided for some rhythmic interludes and as the drumbeat faded in the distance I could finally start counting down the miles one by one. With the downtown high-rise buildings coming in sight I braced myself for a final sprint up the Brickell Bridge and down the stretch to the finish line. Tired, disappointed yet pleased with my “spinner” finisher medal I turned in my timing chip, had an oatmeal cookie and jumped on the metro mover to the car parking lot. After a hot shower at the Intercontinental hotel, our comfortable base camp, I put my legs on ice for a while! That night we met up with Nan at Versailles, one of the top rated Cuban restaurants in “little Havana” and feasted on a scrumptious local culinary dish. Back in Michigan the weather had snow and cold freezing weather in the unforeseeable forecast. And so Marathon number twelve had come to an end with the quest for Boston to be continued!

My first marathon

With a little more than two months to go before the Dublin city marathon, it was time to get in shape. Having had no long distance running experience, my goal was to simply finish in five hours flat. An eleven-minute mile. Nothing too extreme, just one foot in front of the other! The hundred day training schedule was cut in half to meet the October 28th deadline. With an already busy work and workout schedule every minute awake needed to be spent getting ready for this Irish event on the October Day holiday. Ignoring some of the major "don'ts" in the marathon rulebook, ten days into my training program I was on the injury list. The operative word being "o-v-e-r-training", not uncommon among newcomers to the sport, but nothing a week of rest could not cure! After three weeks of ice pack treatments without gaining the desired results my marathon career appeared to have come to an abrupt halt. With air travel booked and marathon application in hand the thought of having capitulated and being sidelined left me cranky at best. "To run or not to run" that's the question! Advice from concerned family members and friends not to run helped me make up my mind. Run and finish!!! Now that’s the spirit. Bring on the sneakers!

The flight to Dublin through New York and Paris had me running from arrival gates to departure terminals to meet my tight airline schedules. The dingy baggage claim area in Dublin was filled with marathon runners from all over the world and soon I was engaged in conversations with, in my eyes, veteran runners. Questions on training schedules and "my best" times and techniques were cleverly circumvented from being answered. I simply had none! Here was a gathering of wealth of experiences and proven practices and I needed to pick their brains, never mind how well prepared I was.... Information I had picked up from running books was regurgitated to keep the conversation slanted towards my curiosities. By the time the last piece of luggage came of the belt, I had picked up some valuable tips and pointers...

Still jet-lagged I awakened at 2:30 in the morning on "race day". Water, potatoes and pasta had been on the menu for the last 24 hours. Mix that with power bars and electrolyte drinks and it is easy to argue why we should have all gotten medals! This is fun? The day before race-day had been cold and blustery but now the weather had definitely turned in our favor. The winds for the most part had subsided and the temperature was a cool and crisp 10 degrees Celsius. Ideal running weather once warmed up! We left the hotel at 8:30 in the morning and walked for almost two miles to drop our bags off at the finish line. The side streets towards the starting line up were already crowded with runners. Eight thousand in all from fifty-three different countries had signed up. They were busy stretching and preparing for the challenge ahead. Not my thing ... Many of them were wearing gloves and black garbage bags over their running clothes to keep from freezing to death. Could have been my thing but too late now ... The airport veterans had never mentioned it! What else am I missing out on?? Although still several blocks away from the starting line, the voice over the loudspeaker started the minute count down… then the moment we had all been waiting for... The top runners from Kenya and Russia were off to position themselves ahead of the masses. From two blocks away we could see a solid mass of runners turning the corner at the speed of light. "Mein himmel, look at them go!"

Being in the back of the pack we started to "queue up" to move towards the starting line up, and the masses, however slowly, were set in motion. The electronic chip affixed to our shoelaces clocked us in as we crossed the starting line, six minutes after the first runners had past. We were off and the race was on. My injury seemed to have subsided and it felt great to be in motion. This running with the crowds was not ideal. If this was the Pamplona-running-with-the-bulls event it would have been life threatening! Trying to pass and going around slower paced runners became too much of a hindrance and soon I found myself running the sidelines. Much better until, … the corners. Running on the left side while going into a right turn would add “mileage” to the course. So weaving in and out of the mainstream became my strategy, and the occasional body bump followed by a sincere “xcuse me” got me running at a comfortable pace.

The first two miles went through the center of town and the crowds were truly amazing. Country flags, sponsor banners and colorful poster boards were waving in the air and the support groups were screaming and cheering on their teams to complete the audio-visual. The field started to open up and running became less constricted. I found myself mostly passing rather than being passed. Mile marker three was the first water station and I learned quickly that running and drinking without spilling all over, or choking to death, requires some real coordination. After finishing half the bottle I nonchalantly tossed it with the rest of its content to the side of the road where thousands of other ones littered the pavement, and started to feel like a real pro!! Pretty cool! Mile marker six, fifty-four minutes? My G-d I am running way under my 11-minute mile. Didn’t the airport veterans advise me to start off one minute slower than goal pace for the first few miles or so? Doing just about the opposite ... well what do they know!! Feeling great and running tall with solid strides. What else would you want? All my fears of re-injuring myself and not being able to finish the run were gone. What a Great day!! By mile marker nine I was running a comfortable pace and felt really in the groove, passing runners left and right! My ankle and knee joints were without an inkling of pain. That goop I put on before the start of the race is doing its job. Good stuff, reeeeeal good stuff… Running is just great! At the half marathon marker I was running a solid 9-minute mile and clocked in at 118 minutes. Two miles later at mile marker fifteen we had our first Lucozade station. Need that for sure now that I had at the last minute decided not to use energy gels. And that stuff did not taste too bad either, if you plug your nose and swallow fast!! So bottoms up and here we go again. No “wall” in sight! Slight burning of the “quads” maybe, but will run it off. While running I pulled out a small container with goop and generously massaged the bluish “miracle” substance on my upper legs. This should do the trick!! One-foot-in-front-of-the-other. Nothing to it, nothing to it!!

Honorable mention should go to the crowds, as they lined the streets everywhere along the 26.2-mile course. They were all bundled up in scarves, hats, gloves and overcoats, some pushing strollers, others carrying infants. The neighborhoods were empty and everyone was out and about! By the thousands they had come and gathered near the sidelines. What a morale booster and in such great spirit and support. Some supporters generously handed out candy sugar boosters. Others were applauding while saying …well done ... well done … as if the race was already finished. Children were holding out their hands to the runners for a “high five” and were seemingly pleased when responded to. Over there, three nuns with father Sarduchi, modestly clapping and being cheerful. Their bright red noses and flaming red ears starkly offset their pale faces. And look, over there were four old ladies standing on an island in the middle of the road with rattles and ratchets making noise as if their life depended on it. I could not help but chuckle and cheer THEM on!! What a SCREAM!!

At mile marker eighteen my quads started to really burn as if to tell me “You‘ve done enough chap. This is the farthest you have ever run at one time and we have had enough of your non-sense! Give It UP!!!” Admittingly the running had become painful and uncomfortable but with “only” eight more miles to go nothing could stop me now! Or could it??… This lactic acid is evil! Plain Evil! The road to Phoenix Park at mile marker nineteen was on a respectable incline to make matters worse. The crowds were ringing bells and clapping their hands while saying … “running well … keep it going … you’re almost there … well done… well done”! All the sudden a woman running next to me cried out: “Can some one tell me why the hhhell we are doing this?”… Dead silence! Only the sound of rhythmic running. I cracked a faint smile! Yes my dear, this is torture, real torture and we paid some big bucks to do it to ourselves!! As we meandered through the park the faint-bladdered among us converted trees and bushes near the side of the road into public rest stops. Men in full view and women discreetly behind the foliage!! By mile marker twenty-two more and more runners started to walk or were on the sideline overcoming their leg cramps! I was told that nothing can prepare you for the last six miles and was beginning to understand the meaning of that statement. My pace was steady but slower, my legs were becoming heavier and stiffer and pleaded for release only to be pounded by every step on the pavement. This is hell! Pure hell…I hate running!

To stay motivated and keep going at a reasonable pace I now needed a mind-over-matter approach. My time seemed reasonable and I did not want to give up too much. The four-hour half-marathon pace was shot but I was still way under my five-hour goal. This was serious business and I just needed to get the job done. That’s all there is to it. JUST DO IT! As we came out of the park the road back to the finish line was on a downhill and with that a different set of muscle aches was set into motion. The good news: Only three more miles to go. The bad news: At least another 30 more minutes!!! Trotting along I all the sudden remembered having looked up the word Marathon in Webster when I first became interested in the sport. “Mar-a-thon (mar’e-thon) a foot race so called in allusion to the story of the Greek runner Phidipidis who ran one-hundred-and-fifty miles from Marathon to Athens to tell of the victory over the Persians (490 B.C.E)… and than dropped dead!!!!” … As my mind continued to wander, I remembered having seen a documentary on Kyriakides, the Greek runner who had narrowly escaped execution during the Second World War and due to malnourishment was never to run again! Yet, in one of the all time running dramas he saw victory in a come-from-behind win in the “Boston”, the most prestigious foot race of them all! An awe-inspiring story, but after almost twenty-four miles, the only thing keeping ME in motion were visions of crossing the finish line.

The last two miles seemed much longer but what a rush!! Turning the final corner onto Nassau Street I almost fainted. Look at them all! Hundreds of leprechauns were sitting on mushrooms on the sidelines with rainbows and pots of gold spanning the sky. Green shamrocks were raining down on us like in a New-York ticker tape parade and ice cool Guinness draft beer was spouting out of several fire hydrants on both sides of the street. What a party … but then I was reeled back into reality and for the first time saw the finish line in the distance. I was still running and standing but burned, bruised and humbled by the experience. Four hours, thirteen minutes and twenty seven seconds had passed since we first crossed the starting line. And now it’s over and done and all I could hear in the back of my head was the crowd saying in chorus … well done …well done … well done!!