A shout-out to the crazies

In a little over eight hours, I'm going to be racing.

No big deal, I've done this what, two or three hundred times before, right?

It's definitely different this time.  Not often do I stand on the edge of something that elicits so many questions, so much self-doubt, so much internal dialog.  Tomorrow's 50 miler, though, has done just this to me.

Throughout the week, I've sat down and tried to put these feelings into words.  I've failed with every attempt. My thoughts have been so incredibly scattered.  There has only been one theme present with each attempt.

I'm surrounded by friends who have run 50, 62, even 100 miles and run those distances fast.  I'm hesitant to even share my trepidation over my first attempt at an "ultra" distance for fear of reprisal from said buddies.  I realize that's somewhat absurd, but at the same time, their presence helps.  They force me to believe it's not just attainable, but expected.  They force me to find ways to squelch my self-doubt.  I'm not even permitted to wonder whether or not I'll finish tomorrow's race.  They won't be impressed.

The school where I teach is somewhat ridiculous.  It is an extremely affluent demographic, and the median kid has parents that expect him to be a high achiever.  Cale goes to this school, and he doesn't know any better to than to think that's just what kids do - they study, they do their homework, and they care about their learning.

I choose to surround myself with people who reflect the values, morals, and ideals I wish to portray.  I seek out those who share my goals, dreams, and passions.  To those who have inspired me to take a crack at this race tomorrow - thank you.  Your presence in my life is valued to an extent you will never know.

Muscials, ultras, and what impresses me

Training.  Adaptation to increasing levels of stress.  Right?  Whether you're training for a 5k, ultramarathon, century, Ironman, long swim, bodybuilding competition...even an exam or musical...the concept behind the preparation for all is the same.  The basic tenant is to get to a point so that just before the event, you feel ready - ALMOST ready - to do your best at said event.

Last night, I got to/had to (I lean more towards the got to camp) watch the three sixth grade classes at my school perform a musical.  Now, my childhood memories of these things aren't so fond.  "Let's get a bunch of kids who can't sing or dance and have them make fools of themselves in front of their parents!  Afterward, all the coward parents will clap and cheer and talk about how great everyone was.  Please."  My opinion, however, has changed drastically in the past two years.  Our music teacher's #1 teaching priority seems to be preparing the sixth grade for their spring performance.  It shows.

Behind the scenes, the amount of preparation that went into the musical would stagger most.

• Performance selection - she was aware that this particular class had more boys and less girls who were strong actors than a normal class.  She also knew that acting-wise, there were a few more talented ones than usual, yet they were not super strong singers.  She chose an appropriate piece - one with many leading roles perfect for boys, one that was much heavier with acting than singing - than a "normal" show.
• Casting - each of the major parts was played by a kid who seemed born for said spot.
• Rehearsal - this is where lessons were learned.  Here is where the true lessons were learned.  First of all, the music teacher worked with the other specials teachers to alter the entire school's schedule for one month.  This allowed her an hour and half with the sixth grade every day, as opposed to the normal forty minutes every third day.  She had laid the groundwork throughout the school year, working on a few of the songs with the individual classes.  They had this background to draw on when all three classes got together.  All of the individual scenes were worked on separately until they could be performed near perfection.  It wasn't until the week before the performance that she even attempted to run through the whole thing, as she knew that it would be mentally psychologically taxing on the kids.  She knew the kids only had a finite amount of energy, concentration, etc, and that these days had to be carefully chosen.  Furthermore, she only ran through the entire show every other day during this time, in order to give the kids the chance to 'recover' on the days in between. 

   When the curtain closed last night, everyone in the audience was quite impressed.  While it was no broadway show, the fact that SIXTH GRADERS were able to actually entertain people for almost ninety minutes was quite impressive.  Everyone, including many of the sixies, walked away thinking, "Wow!  I can't believe we did that!"  You could feel their pride as they basked in their collective accomplishment.

Why did I just spend all that ink talking about an elementary school musical?  Well, to me it's pretty clear.  In nine days, I will be running my first ultramarathon.  I put a lot of thought into deciding when to do my first one, which one it should be, and what type of goal I could reasonably shoot for.  My #1 goal for 2011 is to do well on Pike's in August.  Training for two mountain races on back-to-back days looks quite different than training for many consecutive 8:00, 9:00, or 10:00 miles.   Therefore, I had to keep a few things in mind.  Time between the ultra and Pikes weekend was essential.  Completing training that was specific enough for an ultra, yet not harmful to Pikes training - also essential.  Having this secondary, closer goal NOT conflict with the big picture - the most essential piece.  (the Cripple Creek run being an exception to that rule, oops)

In December, completing a 20-miler was a big deal.  I now do those with such regularity, and with much uptempo build into them, that it's just another day.  I could step out the door and run 26 miles any day of the week and still have a decent run the next day.  Couldn't say that months ago.  50?  Still an unknown quantity.  Can I complete 50 miles now?  Absolutely.  Not a concern.  Can I do so quickly enough to be happy with the result?  Dunno yet.  But I can now wrap my head around it.  I have positioned myself to go for my goal next Saturday without feeling suicidal about it.  By taking a huge task and breaking it down to it's essentials, I now believe I can be successful.

The goals are myriad, but the process is the same.  Life is full of these opportunities.  This guy touches on it.  Nothing is special, it's all relative, and there's always more out there.  I'm not impressed with my accomplishments in an external sense, but I get off on it internally.  In other words, if some stranger tells me, "Wow, Sean, I'm so in awe of what you did Saturday, you must be so proud," I only can somewhat agree.  I'm satisfied with the fact that I've pushed my own envelope somewhat.  Everyone is capable of pushing his own envelope.  Any time someone succeeds at this, I am equally impressed.

This song is like crack in my head right now - I could listen to it for an hour straight and still want more.  Sick.

Fuel - the long, boring history lesson

Why do you run?

It's a simple question, really.  For those of us who do so with any regularity, though...the answer is never very simple.  I'm sure many runners, triathletes, climbers, and other "competitive athletes" might need a good few sessions on Freud's couch in order to find out for themselves. Usually, the answer involves words such as "escape" and "release." 

I'm no different.  As a kid, I was perpetually restless, hyper, distracted, bored, and curious.  When my 9th grade P.E. teacher told me to go out for cross-country, I quickly found an outlet for all my extra energy.
 
Up to this point, I was a serious little hockey brat.  In-season, my time on the ice regularly exceeded 15 hours a week.  I spent countless more hours practicing my shots on a dryland net, reading books, drawing up plays, and dreaming of one-timing the game-winner off of a no-look Gretzky pass to the delight of tens of thousands of screaming fans.

What I couldn't stand about hockey was this - I busted my ass.  I was good, but that was a relative term.  There were plenty of kids who viewed hockey as an afterthought.  I knew very few who were willing to outwork me.  It allowed me to hold my own...problem is, I never excelled.  Furthermore, watching all these other kids who didn't put in 20% of my effort improve by leaps and bounds and surpass me just made me burn.  What?  Life isn't fair???

Running fit me well.  Obviously, being a skinny dude helped.  However, the skill set I possessed that finally could be exploited was my ability to lay out a long-term goal and work toward it over time.  In no other sport is "talent" so much defined not so much by physical traits but by the ability to plan...the ability to persevere and work towards a far-away goal without instant gratification.  In other words, the correlation between HARD WORK and RESULTS is stronger in a sport like running than in any of the "games" kids play such as hockey, soccer, and football.

Soon, running joined hockey as my second major activity.  I was nothing special - 5:05/10:50 and JV kid on a weak XC team in Omaha as a freshman, 5:03/10:50/17:57 and a ho-hum varsity runner on yet another mediocre XC team as a sophomore.

Possibly the most life-changing event happened over the next summer.  My family moved for the umpeenth time...this time from Omaha, NE to suburban Minneapolis.  I was stoked - for once, I'd be able to play hockey with the big boys!  Turned out to be a very different story.

At Wayzata HS, I was introduced to the single most influential person in my entire life - my coach, Bill Miles.  Running up until now was just something I did because I wasn't half-bad at it.  Bill changed how I looked at it.  Running became a passion.  Whereas it used to be a source of stress - "oh man, we've got to do 400's today?  Blech!" - it became a way of relieving stress.  He helped turn it into a drug for me.

I learned many life lessons in those two years...some of which lay dormant for many years, not to be called on until I truly needed them.  My philosophies on training, running, work, relationships, on just about everything...I can track them all back to my time running for Bill.  We won a state championship my senior year - the first of six that Bill has coached at Wayzata.  That was merely a byproduct of the attitude, the philosophy, the life-view Bill instilled in each of us, though.  Countless hundreds of kids from Wayzata will back me up on that bold statement.

I ran in college, as well, at UW-La Crosse.  Even though I got to run at nationals, and had the fortune of being on the team when we won our first national title, the effect it had on my life was far less.  Out of college, I got busy doing what you're supposed to do - grow up, get a job, get married, ditch the fun and games, and become sedentary.  I did an amazing job of this, having all of them wrapped up in record time.  I still ran, but strictly for fun.  A 1:28 half became cause for celebration.  And I must admit, it wasn't "fun" as it was before.  I was slowly turning into a "skinny fat man" and hating every minute of it.  I kinda gave triathlon a shot - did Ironman a couple three times.  Sucked at it - 12:40, 11:50, and 11:20.  Moved to CO, had a kid, changed careers.  I was stuck in a rut and looking for answers.

Enter my divorce.  No one event can knock you on your ass like that.  I needed some sort of stability.  Something I could count on as I sorted out the rest of my life...and guess what was there, just waiting for me?  While the other 23 hours of my day were spent wallowing, I had control over my demons when I stepped out that door.  The gift I had been given many years ago came through and gave me the stability and hope I needed to pull myself together and figure out what I wanted to be when I came out of "this mess."

Since 2008, I have embraced running to extent I never before imagined.  The by-products have been mostly positive.  I have more control over my life than at any other point in time....at least, I THINK I do.  When it comes down to it, how you view the world around you is more important than the world itself.  Hence the title of my blog.  I can't control what comes to me, but I can control how I react to it.

Anyone who is in his mid-thirties and runs as much I do obviously is fueled by something.  I think that fuel is different for everyone.  Mine...there's something inside me that never goes to sleep.  Only by running, climbing mountains, biking...only then can I quiet the voices and find peace.  When I sit on my ass, I'm miserable.  I fidget.  I argue.  I patronize.  When I get out the door, though, I find an outlet for all that negative vibe.  Sitting in traffic these days doesn't raise my blood pressure.  Listening to political opinions at odds with my own doesn't make my blood boil.  I can control my negative passions when I have a benign outlet for them.