Hello Everyone,
I have many runner friends on Dailymile.com and recently one of them has come to me with a special request for help. His name is Dan and his family recently had a brush with a form of childhood cancer. He asked that, since I have many readers, I tell you about his family’s story and refer the link to his blog post which you can find below. I must admit I have never met Dan in person but I have read his story and would strongly encourage you to do the same. Thank God his son will be alright but during this chain of events Dan became aware of the pain that other families were feeling. Because of this he wants to raise money to help find a cure for this disease. Thank you.
http://www.runjunkee.blogspot.com/2012/02/in-blink-of-eye.html
Bob’s old running belt. Her mother was just finishing placing a sandwich and glass of water on the table.
Early the next morning Melissa rushed to get ready for her run and pulled too tightly on the laces when one of them snapped. She sighed, quickly tied a knot in them, still hoping to complete her six miles for the day and strolled out of the building. Her legs felt strong this morning so she decided to sprint to the stoplight just before the cafe’. By the time she had slowed her pace her left shoe felt loose and she didn’t have to look down to know what had happened. The worn old shoelace had come apart again and Melissa found herself standing outside Run-4-Less Sports. ”Great! Now this obnoxious jerk is going to think I’m back to see him.” she thought in disgust. Hesitantly she opened the door and stepped inside. There was Justin, helping a rather wealthy looking woman in her mid 40′s try on a pair of shoes. Glancing up at Melissa with a conceited smirk he asked, “Back so soon?”
me my laces so I can get out of here and you can click your heels together and head back to Kansas, Dorothy?” The lone man behind the register started laughing out loud but quickly stopped when Justin glared in his direction. “Well you do make a pretty good wicked witch of the west.” he countered. Melissa scowled and snatched the laces from Justin’s hand then stomped over to one of the benches to put them on. By this time the affluent woman was paying for her new shoes at the register and as she pulled her wallet from her purse, what appeared to be a fifty dollar bill slipped out and fell gently upon the linoleum floor. This caught Justin’s eye and he strolled over casually to pick it up. Expecting him to inform the woman Melissa thought, “Maybe he has a good point or two after all.” But to her dismay Justin quickly slipped the fifty into his own pocket and kept walking. Shocked at what she had seen, Melissa stared daggers at Justin until the woman left and then she confronted him. “You stole money from her!” Melissa exclaimed
him in the eye, Melissa pulled two dollars from her belt and threw them at him. “That should cover the laces! I’m never setting foot in this store again!” She made her way toward the door once more when Justin sarcastically blurted out, “Wait, I never got your name.” and laughed.
bag placed upon the end table. Melissa walked over and picked it up
Is he really going to do a whole post on stomach evacuation? It’s true, I am. So I request your full attention as the flight attendants demonstrate the safety features of this blog. A bag is located in the back of the seat in front of you in the event of illness, so get ready to read on.
dangerous. If you believe you are suffering from heat stroke, stop immediately and take any steps necessary to cool your body temperature. I recommend getting assistance from race officials.
Bob picked up the pace as he passed the coffee shop on his early morning run. You could set your watch by his daily routine as he dashed down the sidewalk. At the small outdoor cafe’ patrons would smile and wish him a good morning as he passed. It was all he could do to grin and nod politely while huffing and puffing with the speed and intensity of an old coal fired steam engine. His running ability at fifty-seven years old was surely not what it used to be after a past plagued with surgeries, financial woes and the loss of his wife Eileen so many years ago. Time had not been kind to Bob, but he kept running. It was the only part of his life within his control. It was all he had left.
and blue beach ball in hopes of finding someone to play with. She was a lonely little girl with blonde pigtails and a smile so innocent that even the angels would be jealous. Her mother lived across the hall, but never had much to say to Bob unless she was in need of a favor. As Bob approached, Melissa smiled wide knowing that he would always spend a few minutes, that he really couldn’t spare, playing catch before he went to work at the office.
The pair stood next to each other and Melissa’s face suddenly became very serious as she anticipated the sound of Bob’s voice. “GO!” shouted Bob, and Melissa took off as fast as she could in her flip flop sandals with her arms and legs flying in all directions in an effort to beat him to the finish. Bob ran along side her to make it look as if he was struggling to keep up with the undisciplined six year old. He could see Melissa’s expression turn from determined to full blown anger as she approached the hydrant. ”What happened to that sweet little girl I was just playing catch with?” Bob chuckled to himself. With just steps to go he slowed and let Melissa pass the fire hydrant just before him.
box. Inside were the cutest pair of little pink running shoes he could find. ”Now let’s try these on.” Bob said happily.
along side of her and his breathing was a little more labored. She was running faster than she had before and it all was due to Bob’s kindness. It was not the shoes themselves that made her quicker, it was happiness that drove her this time. There was no look of anger in her face as she drew closer to the bright red fire hydrant. She was happy that she had someone to look up to. Someone like daddy.
peered out the window at the spot she last saw her friend and noticed Bob’s black running belt laying up against the curb. Carefully she left the apartment and crossed the street to retrieve it. She had always wondered what he carried with him and brought it inside. As she opened it something familiar appeared, it was an old flip flop with a safety pin. Melissa began to cry again holding the belt tightly.
trail race that I completed in May of last year. To be clear, it was mostly a combination of trails and gravel roads, so running through covered bridges and maneuvering around potholes was on the agenda for the day. I don’t enter many trail runs since I prefer the speed that can be attained from racing on pavement, but every now and then it is nice to get out and play in the dirt.
Apparently trail runners love potatoes. When we all took our first steps in the 85 degree sauna that was the Parke County 50k, I ended up running next to a woman that had managed to force a whole baked potato into one of the gel loops in her fuel belt. I didn’t question her, but wondered, “How do you run for countless miles with a large potato strapped to your waist?” It just seemed uncomfortable to me. Upon reaching some of the aid stations, you will find that most are VERY well stocked with food and drinks to keep you going. Everything from candy, cookies and chips to pieces of licorice in the shape of red whips. There are sandwiches of all kinds, some with tomatoes. And let’s not forget the boiled potatoes. Oh sorry, I went all Dr. Suess there for a minute. Let’s just say you will be well taken care of in most trail races.
We have all heard it. That terrible clanging sound that seems to drown out all other noise as you push toward the finish line. Commonly used by well meaning spectators in half and full marathons, this auditory annoyance had me wondering, “What is the origin of this obnoxiousness?” After a little digging around the internet, I learned that in the 1440′s a leading cow or sheep of a drove or flock wore a bell and consequently was understood to “take the first place”. A few decades later, a cowbell was worn only by the best and leading piece of livestock. So there you have it, we are being compared to 500 year old prized farm animals.
you can design your own shoe with many possibilities. The one you see here is a men’s shoe, believe it or not, that I designed and plan on ordering in the coming weeks. There is a link on the right sidebar of this page that will take you there. Happy running everyone!
Over the past few days I have been asked by a few readers to write an article providing tips based on my experiences in half marathons. So get your pencils out and be ready to take notes because the half marathon is the best race out there and here’s why:
completing a ten mile training run very slowly is enough to accomplish your goal in this race. Diet is everything leading up to the big day. Eat sensibly the night before just as if you were not racing at all. But load up on carbs and they will be sitting in your stomach the next morning. Carbohydrate intake 
Hydration is VERY important. I can not stress this enough. Suppose you feel you don’t need any water at the first aid station. Drink it anyway. Once you start to get thirsty or dehydrated, it is most likely too late and you will suffer all the way to the finish, if you make it. Every station should be used to hydrate and walk for a short time. WALK? Yes, I said walk. As a wise man once said, “It’s better to get the water IN you than ON you.” If you must trot a little when you are drinking, fold the cup together at the top in order to create a sippy cup. This will allow a small opening to drink water without splashing it all over you. In an effort to recover lost time, I pick up my pace when I spot a water station. If I can maintain my 10k pace once my target is in view, it’s easier to offset the time I spend walking, drinking and recovering. It also doesn’t hurt to pour a cup of water over your head each time to keep yourself cool. Most races are well stocked
walk in the park but it is usually the longest 3 miles of my life. This is when your mental might can bring you to the finish by playing tricks in your head. Tell yourself that you deserve a walk break if you just make it to mile 11. There is usually an aid station there, but if there is no aid station, keep running and make the same deal when addressing mile 12. At that point I can assure you that you will not want to stop. ”It’s only one more mile to the end” you tell yourself and before you know it, you spot that magnificent finish line filled with balloons, reporters and a ticker tape parade just for you. Well, maybe not, but it sure will feel like it. Congratulations.
Not to be confused with the title of this blog, adventure racing and adventure challenges have quickly grown into a “sport” that can no longer go unnoticed. When the term is used, it conjures up images of men and women covered in mud, wearing horned hats as if they just left Fred and Barney at a Water Buffalo Lodge meeting. The Spartan Race, Tough Mudder and Warrior Dash are just a few of the events on the ever growing list of neanderthalic activities. The question we have to ask ourselves is, “Are these legitimate races for runners?” In a word, no. I am not going to tell you that these challenges are not fun or physically demanding but they definitely do not qualify as events in which runners should participate. First and most importantly is the risk of injury. Do you really want to jeopardize losing your racing season or worse? If you run 5k’s or marathons you are taking a calculated risk but when confronting an array of dangerous obstacles, your risk for breaking an ankle or tearing a ligament rises substantially.
I am a big fan of Halloween races. It’s always a good excuse to wear something outrageous without drawing too much attention. The past two years I have run the 
attire was within the bounds of “tasteful” and reserve the right to remove any runner who is not family friendly. Fortunately, I did not witness any wardrobe malfunctions of Janet Jackson proportions. After completing the race you are directed to walk six blocks on busy downtown streets in your underwear to a restaurant which hosts a banquet and beer for all the runners. This Fruit of the Loom inspired stroll was a new experience for most of us. But hey, I’ve seen worse in Chicago.
Once inside the clubhouse you can register for the race and begin work on your business skills, DIRECT EYE CONTACT! You might ask, “My gosh man, where do they pin your bib?” No worries, a grease penciled number on your chest works just fine. That made me feel much more at ease until I wondered, “Wait! What are they using as a pull tab??!!”
