My Second Half (Marathon)

I ended last year with my first half marathon under my belt.  As the New Year approached I began forming personal and professional goals for this year: complete my resume and start searching for the job I’ll eventually move into between now and the Summer of 2014, plans for what Steph and I might do for our 20th wedding anniversary this coming Summer, and a few running goals.  While I haven’t locked specific races down, the running goals had gelled to include running two more half-marathons, and my first full marathon.  Little did I know I’d complete one of those two half marathons this month.

Not long after I finished the Rock ‘n’ Roll Las Vegas half marathon early in December, I received an email encouraging me to consider running the Rock ‘n’ Roll Arizona event on 20 January.  I learned that these two “desert” races are linked in that if you complete them back-to-back, you get an additional finisher’s medal.  It’s amazing what someone like me will do for a t-shirt and some ribbon with a medal on it, and so I signed up and rolled right back into training.

With training complete, I drove down to Tempe, Arizona, stayed with friends over the race weekend and set off on my second half marathon.  Like my first one in December, the race was pretty much everything I had hoped it would be and as is the case with all adventures, I learned a few more things about myself.

It wasn’t a fluke.  If you can do something significant twice, it’s probably not a fluke.  Not that I thought the race in December was a fluke, but running a particular distance once means you can do it once.  I followed a training plan and the race went flawlessly, but somehow it felt great to do it a second time, especially not long after the first race.  It seemed to remove any chance of doubt that it might have been a one-time experience in my life.  Consistent with my goals, I just showed myself I can do more.  That makes me happy and frankly builds my confidence in myself as a middle-aged man.  I didn’t doubt I could complete the Arizona race, but having mental confidence in the ability to do something is clearly important; actually doing it is the proof.

The base.  For many years I’ve heard and read runners talk about building up a base, and that that base essentially becomes a permanent fitness foundation they can rely on during those times of rest or injury.  Knowing it’s there is one thing, but seeing the practical effect it has is exciting.  I’ve mentioned previously I’ve run for most of my life, but generally shorter distances:  10Ks and below.  Having trained for two half-marathons within two months of each other let me see a little bit of what that base does.  After the December race, I was pretty sore for four days or so, and still a bit achy for a week to 10 days.  No injuries, nothing bad, but my body was clearly telling me it noticed I had just done something that I’d never done before.  I remember saying after completing the race that mentally I could do it again right then, but physically I needed to recover.  After a week or so I was running again with no issues at all.

The day I completed the Arizona race I felt just as sore as when I completed Vegas, but there was a big difference the next day:  in terms of being sore or stiff, my body was almost completely back to normal.  The only way I can explain it is to assume I’d built up a base more consistent with the half-marathon distance.  I didn’t expect to recover so quickly and it came as quite a pleasant surprise.  Still, I gently and patiently stepped back into a running routine after the race rather than risk overdoing it.

People are people.  I think it’s less obvious during shorter distance races, but it becomes very evident in longer races that just as with anything else we humans do, there are awesome people and...let’s just say “less than awesome” people.  Okay, I won’t beat around the bush.  In large groups, people run like they drive or walk through the mall:  there are some rude folks and frankly a few idiots out there.  Runners are an awesome and often selfless community, but it’s no surprise that people are people no matter where you go.  More on this in a later post.

The fine folks at Competitor Group.  I’m sure all races, especially endurance-length races, have their issues and some will always be better than others.  Having sampled two separate Rock ‘n’ Roll Marathon Series events though, I think Competitor is doing an awesome job with these races.  Both races I participated in had a variety of issues, but nothing that ultimately diminished the overall experience.  For folks who are looking to train for and run their first half or full marathon, I’d encourage you to seek out one of these Rock ‘n’ Roll series events.  Depending on personal preferences and who you ask, I’m sure there are better races out there as well as many that are worse, but so far for me these events have been a quality experience.  Add the particular experience of hearing local bands perform while you’re running makes it special beyond just the race route and location itself.  Not to sound like too much of a groupie, I absolutely plan on running other races that aren’t affiliated with the Rock ‘n’ Roll series, but I'm also going to seek out and enter more Rock 'n' Roll series events.  My point is that these two races were well done and I felt, worth the time and money I spent to participate.

Back to running, goals, and fatherhood.  I’ll most certainly continue to work toward running another half and my first full marathon this year.  The other “goal” I have is to start running with my son.  I didn’t ask him to start running with me; he asked me if he could start.  So this Spring we’ll step out together and see how he likes it.  Just as my Dad did with me, I won’t push him.  Instead I’ll encourage him and hopefully this becomes yet another thing we can enjoy and share together as Dad ‘n’ Lad, as we continue through life’s journey.

It’s great to be a dad!

My First Half (Marathon)

On December 2nd, 2012 I ran my first half marathon.  The experience was everything I hoped it would be--exciting and challenging!

The race was the Rock ‘n’ Roll Marathon and Half Marathon here in Las Vegas.  Entering the race came with a variety of pros and cons.  I knew several people who ran the Las Vegas event last year and most of the feedback (from half and full marathon runners) was negative.  In addition to the weather being squirrelly, the race wasn’t set up well and there were a number of issues related to the start, logistics for the aid stations, and the point in the course where the half and full marathon runners merged.

Weather problems can happen anywhere and it’s not the fault of the race organizers, so that didn’t bother me.  And since I’m not wired to race against other runners, I wasn’t necessarily concerned with the dynamics of how the course was constructed unless it caused safety issues.  My only goal, certainly for a first half-marathon, was to start and finish the race, without injury and preferably without walking: it’s me against the finish line, not the clock.  The issue of the merge caught my attention since I had heard the bottleneck caused racers to walk for quite a distance since the street where the merge happened couldn’t accommodate the volume of runners.  That troubled me a bit since I had heard there were injuries that resulted from the problem (runners tripping on other runners, etc.).  But between 2011 and this year’s event two things happened: Competitor bought the Rock ‘n’ Roll series and the folks from the Rock ‘n’ Roll series (corporate and local) made it clear they’d taken the negative feedback seriously and made a number of real changes in order to prevent the same problems from happening again.  They published the course for this year well in advance so folks could see the changes, it looked fine, and so I entered without any real concerns.

Not having run a half marathon before, I did what I presume many others have done:  I sought out a training plan from a credible source.  In my case I took one from a copy of Runner’s World magazine and set out to follow it.  Pretty straight forward: execute the plan and run the race.  Along the way I lost a full week of training, but pressed on, assuming this happens with everyone.  I adjusted the lengths slightly of some of my runs the next several weeks and trusted the plan.

Other than finishing, I didn’t really have expectations since I had never run this distance before.  This goes back to trusting my training plan.  Thousands of others finish half marathons all the time, so I wasn’t even nervous.  I was excited.  I didn’t know what else to expect: whether the race would be easy or hard, what my body would feel like, or even what my time would be.  My only goals were to finish and have fun and so off I went to run the race--me and tens of thousands of others!  The weather was perfect with the exception of gusty wind right at the start.   The route, the music, and the crowds along the route cheering and  encouraging all of us on were fantastic.  Water and Gatorade aid stations were plentiful and distributed by a cast of cheerful, smiling folks.   Also, this is one of only two times Las Vegas actually closes The Strip completely to traffic.  To get to run up, then down this famous (no, “fabulous”) iconic Las Vegas boulevard and see all the sights and sounds (rather than doing it in a car) was very cool!

So what’s next?  In addition to the usual bunch of 5 and 10Ks, I want to run at least two half marathons and hope to run a full marathon in 2013.  The full marathon will probably be the Rock ‘n’ Roll event here in Las Vegas again.  I had such a good time running the half, and it’s close.  Then, unless my body makes me do otherwise, I hope to train for and run a 50k for in 2014 to celebrate my 50th birthday.

By the way, as my son has watched me head out the door to run over the years, he’s started asking me if he can run with me.  This makes me happy and I’ll strive to only encourage him as he gives it a try.  We’ll run together, short distances at first, father and son.  And if it interests him, whether he continues to run or not, maybe he can come with me to my races and cheer me on.

It’s great to be a dad!

Running

Somehow without being able to identify a specific place, date or time, I got hooked on running.  I’m not new to the sport at all, and while I’ve always run I can’t claim it’s been an integral part of my life from early on.  As with hiking (I posted about it a while back), there’s no doubt running is good for the body, but for me it’s also good for the soul.  Here’s what seems to have happened.

I ran track in high school one year.  I hated it but couldn’t explain why until later.  My dad lettered in track all four years he was in high school, but he never pushed me to participate in track.  He remained an avid runner for over half his life though, he and I would run 5 and 10K races together during my junior high and high school years.  Those were always fun and it never seemed like a competition with the other racers, or with dad.  It was just great dad ‘n’ lad time shared through something we both could do.  So I guess it made some sense that I said hello to the track team!  It seemed to be something I’d enjoy but within a year I moved on to something else.  The track team just wasn’t for me.

Then in college I joined the intramural cross country team.  I’m not sure why, but it seemed (again) to be something I’d like.  It was a better experience for me than high school track, and I learned a few things.  I liked running longer distances and experienced some of the same enjoyment I did when I ran with my dad.  I also learned I didn’t like high school track because the events I participated in were fast and short distances.  Cross country was definitely physically and mentally more fun.  We raced across changing terrain rather than around an oval and while speed still mattered, race strategy seemed to matter more when you needed to keep running longer.

There was something else I was discovering about myself too:  I get bored easily.  Running through changing scenery minimized the boredom of the oval track.  It was therapeutic in that it ensured I had dedicated time outdoors and outside of the sterile classroom.  I wasn’t fast, I never won a race, but I did well and I was a happier guy for it.

Life after college has been a 26+ year journey as an Air Force officer.  Fitness is an integral part of military life and running is a part of our fitness test--a short distance within a specified amount of time.  Not hard to do, and because of how I’m wired, not very fun.  But I’ve kept running, not to pass a fitness test, but for the same therapeutic benefits I mentioned before.  Trade sterile classrooms for sterile offices full of multiple computers and phones, and the appeal to get outside and move around increases.  Fresh air, strenuous physical work and the lack of office machines combine to do a lot to help reset and refocus mentally.  Time on the road or trail has become coveted time to listen to books, music, or sometimes nothing other than nature, and it’s always time to think without interruption.  No doubt the physical benefits are there even though I’m older and slower, but I tell people all the time that I value the mental/emotional benefits more.  It’s true.

I run more often now than ever before and while I’ve never been a long distance runner as some define “long distance,” how far I run has increased over time too.  So has my tolerance for running in most conditions: sun or rain, hot or cold, day or night.  And somewhere along the way the hobby has become something more akin to a passion.  Now I regularly run 5Ks and 10Ks, and next week I’ll run my first half marathon.

Everything else aside, I’m also doing my best to stay healthy for my son.  What’s even cooler about that: he watches me and has taken a real interest in my running.  He’s started asking me if he can run with me.  I used to push him along in a jogging stroller when he was an infant and toddler and I only stopped when he seemed to be bored with it.  Now he sees me running and wants to go along.  He knows when this Spring comes we’re going to start running together--no more stroller and no more waiting at home for dad to return.  He’s excited and that makes me happy!  We’ll start short and slow and he can decide if this is his cup of tea.  I don’t know if he’ll enjoy it or if he’ll stay interested over time, but I’m hopeful that as he grows we’ll have one more thing we can share, and it’s something that’ll contribute to his ability to develop and live a healthy lifestyle.

Life is funny:  I’m middle-aged and my body says I’m running like I probably should have been when I was younger.  But hey, I like it more now than I did before.  As long as my knees (and other middle-aged body parts) don’t rebel, I hope to run my first marathon sometime next year, and maybe a 50K in 2014:  50K for my 50th birthday.  In the years to come, maybe my son will run by my side, certainly casually and even in a few races.  Let’s see what happens.

It’s great to be a dad!

First Sleep-Over

Paul slept at his friend’s house last night.  This was his first time sleeping outside of our house without us.  Pretty cool!  This was a big night for him.  We talked with him about what it would be like and know he heard , and as Steph dropped him off he was fully focused on a good time playing with his friend.  There was a bit of uncertainty for us though.  Would he wake up in the middle of the night and get scared because he wasn’t in his own house, or call out for one of us only to find we weren’t there?  There’s only one way to know and he wanted to “camp out” with his friend.  And so he went.

For me: I’m excited as a dad to see my son doing something new, and for a five year old, something potentially brave.  As many of you know though, I miss him when he’s sleeping in the next room so last night was not only exciting for me but also a bit...I don’t know.  Not nervous; not scared; different, I guess.  I don’t have a good word but suspect other moms and dads out there know what I’m trying to describe.

The best single part of this experience for me though was probably what my son said to the dog before he left the house.  He took a serious and gentle tone and called to the dog, finally getting her to stop in front of him.  Then he bent down and very gently told her, “dream of me, and walk with me in your dreams.”  Wow.  I don’t know where that came from but I was floored and almost emotional.  Not because of the sleep over, but because something that big and serious came from his five year old heart.  And then off he went.

Now it’s the next morning and the phone didn’t ring last night.  He must have done well!  I know I slept well in spite of the uncertainty in my heart.  Maybe that’s the word I was looking for earlier--uncertainty.  The house was very quiet: more than usual.  Some of that was mental I’m sure, but it was also truly quieter.  I am a very light sleeper and routinely peek in on Paul at night.  No sleeping boy equals no sleeping boy sounds.  But it was nice in it’s own way.

I’m proud of my son for this little life accomplishment.  After all, I’ve known other kids, and have had friends who didn’t sleep outside their own house and away from mom and dad until they went to college.  I love my awesome son!

It’s great to be a dad!

Book Review: "Sundae: One Bear's Epic Crusade Through Childhood"

I purchased the Kindle version of the novella "Sundae: One Bear's Epic Crusade Through Childhood" by Matt Wallace a while ago, and it recently came to the top of my list.  I read it first sitting in an airport, and again almost immediately.  Within a week I read it to my five year old son.  Sundae is an amazing story.  While parts were a bit heavy for my son, he understood the story and definitely identified with several of the characters, especially the protective bear named Sundae.

Sundae is the story of a bear--a stuffed animal--whose purpose is to protect children from the dangers that exist within the unseen world of the imagination.  We follow Sundae from creation through his life, defending children and at times finding himself tucked away quietly in storage.

What I love most about this book is that it gives form to the shapeless and often nameless things that frighten children.  Things known and “seen” are often much less scary than things unseen and therefore less understood.  In the story we see the threats to the children with form and therefore we see Sundae’s battles as a child would see them.

My son loved the story, as did I, and he still talks about it.  He also has a small bear in his room he’s now renamed “Sundae”.  The bear is never far away and he sleeps well.

If you’re already familiar with Matt Wallace’s other works and didn’t realize he’s written a children’s story, don’t look past Sundae.  Even if you don’t have kids, read this.  I’m sure you’ll enjoy it, it’ll bring back some lost memories of childhood, and you just might know a child you can pass it to who would benefit from hearing this awesome story of adventure and courage.

Fall Soccer & Smelly Feet

The Fall AYSO soccer season kicked off here in Las Vegas a couple weeks ago.  My son played last Spring and was eager all Summer for the Fall season to start.  Well, the season began but there’s something other than a new uniform happening now:  smelly feet.

After getting home from his first game we took his shoes and socks off and our noses detected trouble, our eyes watered and the dog fled the room.  He’s always been very active and while we knew this day would come, we hadn’t really given it any thought.  The result was surprise and some small amount of alarm when he climbed onto my lap and the smell of sweaty feet overwhelmed punched me in the nose.

I wouldn’t trade this for anything in the world.  The good news is a bath quickly followed and the problem was solved.  The best news of all: my son is a healthy, growing boy!

It’s great to be a dad!

Losing Dad

This may be the most difficult thing I’ve ever written.  Just a few weeks ago my son surprised my wife and I when he suddenly looked sad and said, “Dad, when I’m big like you and I have a son like you do, I’m going to miss you.”  I asked him, “Why will you miss me?”  He explained that when he’s big I’ll “be in my skel” and he won’t be able to see me anymore.  When he says something is a skel, he’s referring to it being a skeleton--being dead.  My young son was now somehow aware of death and the loss it brings.

On the 18th of August my wife, son and I boarded a plane in some haste and flew to Madison, Mississippi to be with my dad.  His was in the hospital and his health was failing quickly.  We were all able to see him.  I spent all day on the 19th sitting and talking with him, and to the best of my ability, comforting him as he was in and out of sleep.  Just a few days later, he passed away.  My mom and I were with him and it was the most heartbreaking and tender of moments.  We had both shared our thoughts and words of encouragement with him, ensuring he knew we were there and okay, and that we loved him.  Mom was sitting by his side holding his hand and I was standing over him from the other side.  I had just finished quietly speaking into his ear, I kissed his forehead, and he left us.  His departure was quiet and graceful.  It was honorable and dignified.

What made that moment most special to me as his son were those final words I shared with him.  They weren’t private or new to his ears, and were words I’ve said to him and to others about him before.  I quietly and humbly told my father this:

“Dad, I’m proud of you and all that you’ve done in life.  I’m so proud that you’re my dad and I’m your son.  I love you.”

Just seconds after I said these words, he died with my hand on his shoulder and his hand in mom’s.

As we made the trip to Mississippi, we told our son his grandpa (who he called “G”) was very sick.  Once we were there, I took time on several occasions to help him understand that he wouldn’t get to see G again, including one brief but significant father and son walk.  Steph and I didn’t want to hide this from him, nor did we want to make death some sort of fiction, and we struggled with how to best do this, knowing there isn’t a “right way.”  We were confident that our son was mature enough to see his grandfather as sick as he was, to grasp the basic truth of the reality of death (especially after his earlier statement), and to learn that the death of the body is as much a part of life as birth and everything in between.  He was with us during the visitation and memorial service, handled everything very well, and touched our hearts dearly when he solemnly snuggled Steph and told her sadly, “I’m going to miss G.”

As a son having just lost his dad, I was able to draw very real strength from having my son with me through it all.  It was special that we could share it, with me carrying the heaviest emotional weight of the loss for him, and as a dad experiencing the very real love and tangible support from my own son.  I also had the privilege of giving the eulogy at dad’s memorial service--truly the hardest thing I have ever had to do.  I can’t imagine anyone else having done it and while it felt like I was speaking without any oxygen in the air, it was also medicine for my own soul.  In the end, during the trip my son was able to see his grandfather purposefully for a last time, see the sorrow in my heart at the loss of my father, and hear the words I offered in a meager attempt to honor him--his grandfather--in front of his gathered friends and family.

We will bury dad at Arlington National Cemetery sometime later this year, and we will be there with him--father and son--to give dad one final goodbye as our country lays him to rest with full military honors.  I know I’m biased, but I think it’s the best thing my grateful family can do for this amazing and quiet man who gave everything he had to us, to his country, and to his community.  He served us all well, with honor, integrity and humility, and it showed to anyone who looked.  I certainly learned from his example and trust my son has too.  Among everything else, my job now as a father is to do my best to ensure my son continues to learn the same lessons of honor, integrity, humility and service, hopefully through my words and deeds.  It’s not easy, but what an awesome task.  And there’s no better way I can think of to continue to honor my father than by raising my son--his grandson--well.

It’s great to be a dad!

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Here are the links to my father's official military biography and his obituary.  His obituary captures his career after his retirement from the military.