More from the farm!

I got mad manure skills!

Greetings again from Southern Vermont. I currently have some serious blisters on my white collar, CPA alabaster hands. Apparently I am not so well prepared to be shoveling sheep manure for 3 hours, but such is life on the sheep farm. Working with one of my gracious hosts Paul we mucked 60% of the barn and pretty much trucked out 50 wheelbarrow loads of what will be some mighty fine fertilizer. I did this in my running clothes with my hiking boots and as you have already guessed no gloves. I have not been getting in much in the way of workouts beyond a hike or a run so it was good to get some manual labor in. Now for the record I have milked cows, hayed fields, split umpteen cords of wood and pulled more weeds than barrels of oil currently in the gulf so though nowhere near a “farmer” I bring a little something to the table.

After the afternoon of mucking I had a serious need to get a run in. I had only run twice since the marathon and since they are on a hilly dirt road I needed to seek out some more friendly terrain. I drive about 8 miles to get to the East Dummerston covered bridge. I have to dodge a white tail doe that decides it is a good time to cross the road in front of my CRV. I have seen no shortage of deer during my time in VT. The bridge is along RT 30 about 6 miles NW of Brattleboro. It is the longest covered bridge that is still open to traffic, has a great swimming hole underneath it as well as a parking lot for me to ditch my CRV and stretch. See some good info on it:

http://shootingmyuniverse.blogspot.com/2009/10/west-dummerston-covered-bridge.html

The run is really not all that exciting as it is an out and back on RT 30 (3 weeks in Vermont and I am already spoiled) which has plenty of traffic but a friendly grade, unfortunately the road is so crowned that you are running on uneven ground which ultimately is not the way to go. I will have to find a more runner friendly route for my next long run. Though as uneventful as it is I do get to run by Maple Valley ski resort which judging by the trees growing on the trails has not been open in quite some time. We actually used to get off of school early on Wednesdays to take ski lessons here back in the mid 70’s. How crazy is that, we (three boys) were being raised by a single mother and had a stint on welfare, but were able to take ski lessons, you really do have to love Vermont. I would only really ski during those lessons and during free Vermont days. To this day I have never purchased a lift ticket in Vermont. Anyway, I totally remember skiing at Maple Valley with those straps that connected your ski to your ankle so it didn’t slide down the mountain in event of a healthy fall. It is always important that you keep hard pointy things as near to you as possible when wiping out  The invention of ski brakes was quite wise.

It is sad to see Maple Velley in disrepair, but given the winters have warmed up since my youth I am not the least bit surprised to see it falling apart. Apparently it is for sale, so if you wish to buy your very own ski resort. Check it out http://www.nelsap.org/vt/maplevalley.html I also remember we went to Hogback mountain on our half days in subsequent years and even at a higher elevation this mountain closed. Apparently it was due to the crazy liability cost increases that started in the 80’s. http://www.nelsap.org/vt/hogback.html

So though the run is not all that scenic it really is all relative. I am running along the West river which is my favorite river in the world and though a busy road by Vermont standards it is still rural enough where a grey fox jumps out of the woods right in front of me and makes his way across the road to the river. The turnaround point is 5 miles out in the historic village of Newfane. I am really wishing I had brought a bit of cash with me as there is an old general store and I am a bit hungry after mucking for three hours and running 5 miles. I do take a moment to check out the Newfane commons and all that they have to offer. It is the home of the famous four columns inn, which if you are ever in Vermont and want a fancy rustic place to stay this is the place for you http://www.fourcolumnsinn.com/

So my trip to Vermont was not to run a marathon, take in the arts, clean barns and enjoy my favorite river. I have been working with family, namely my 74 year old mother to try to help her current situation and prepare her for the inevitable decline in ability that she surely is to experience in the coming years. Not exactly puppy dogs and rainbows, but I think it bears a bit of documentation. So consider yourself warned for future postings!

Back to Southern Vermont

So it has been over 20 years since I have spent any time in Southern Vermont. My brothers live up in Burlington along with 75% of my nephews and nieces so when in Vermont that is the place to be. I grew up in Putney in Windham County on the New Hampshire (upside down state) border about 20 miles from Massachusetts. The difference between the two areas is mostly driven by population and economics. Greater Burlington has 100K people and Putney doesn’t even hit 3,000 and this is also seen in the economics, Burlington has white collar career oriented folks and Windham County is mostly driven by tourism. Brattleboro is the main town in Windham and where I went to high school. The downtown was once a thriving business community, but you guessed it… Wal Mart moved in just across the NH border in Hinsdale and slowly but surely all the downtown stores that sold homogonous products slowly started closing their doors. For the first few years it was a glass half empty feeling with a revolving door of failing businesses, but like the kudzu in my back yard capitalism will find a way. The uninteresting stores have since been replaced with stores peddling unique products that Wal Mart will never be able to touch. Walking around downtown you will see used book stores, non-chain coffee shops (in fact there are not chain stores in downtown Brattleboro), galleries, art supply, used CD’s (just bought my first cd in 10 years there) and any number of stores offering artistic products. It also boasts my favorite building in the state of Vermont, the Latchis Theater. I think it is an overall improvement from 20 years ago!

The Latchis Theater (http://www.latchis.com/) is one of two art deco buildings in the state of Vermont (don’t know where the other is). As you may have guessed it is a movie theater and unfortunately they did cave in the late 80’s and turned some storage/conference rooms into two other tiny theaters, but that is easily forgiven. The main theater is where I as a way young lad watched Raiders of the Lost Ark. You walk in and it opens up into your standard old school one screen movie house. It used to have a balcony, but alas that got eaten up in their “multiplex” expansion. But fret not the ceiling remains unchanged, a sea of blue with the signs of the zodiac painted 40 feet (at least) above your head. On either side of the screen are some wonderful Greek Corinthian (I think) columns. Now this didn’t used to be my favorite theater, but after spending 15 years living in DC this is easily my favorite place to watch a movie. Now it also doubles as a hotel with fewer than 50 rooms and it has an attached brew pub. When I have been in town previously I usually stay at this hotel (family is very complicated).

June 5th finds itself being the first Friday of June and in Brattleboro VT that means Gallery Walk. Like so many other locations they roll out the arts for all to see once a month. I am in town at a coffee shop scribbling a bit waiting for it to kick off. There is some great people watching to be done at a coffee shop in Brattleboro VT. I am probably the best dressed from a bring me home to meet the parents perspective which is a welcome change to me  Life is a lot slower here and in listening to conversations going on around me I really sense that a lot of effort is put in on the fewer things that are going on in their lives. In DC people have a million things going on and they all surely don’t get the attention that they deserve. The coffee shop is practically wallpapered with collages from the artist being exhibited at Mocha Joes and oh by the way she is sitting 6 feet from me putting the finishing touches on one final piece. Of course most of the people who come in know here and have nothing but kind things to say about her work. Rock on!

I have the brochure on the Gallery walk and there are a few photo exhibits that I want to hit with my most anticipated being the one setup in my favorite theater. It opens early as they need to clear out for showing of Get to the Greek (I think) so I get there at 5 sharp. The exhibit is by far the best I will see that evening and not so much from an artistic point, rather from a pull at your heart strings perspective. Surrounding the perimeter of the theater are groups of two photos and in front of them are two phones one white and one black. What you have is two blown up photos of homeless youth in Vermont, one prior to having resources applied to their situation and another after they have received the love that they needed. You pick up the black phone and are regaled with the story of their life at the bottom and the white of course accounting their story after receiving help. Not so easy to hear about the daughter growing up in the house with limited heat and no running water, the gay kid growing up a Jehovahs witness household or the drug addict in the abusive relationship. Apparently Vermont has a per capita issue with homeless children, certainly a great cause to get behind! I seriously can’t listen to all of them, one can only take so much.

The rest of the gallery walk is really good, but unlike how any sane person eats a meal I did not save the best for last. I spend the remainder of the walk mostly scanning for faces I have not seen in 20 years, but to no avail. I did find a cotton candy vendor and as my friend Keri knows I am a huge fan and let me tell you this is not normal cotton candy, it is Maple cotton candy the best ever made. I got a bag for $3 acting like I am just the best father thinking of my children that couldn’t make it out. I will later spike the hell out of my blood sugar before going to bed to let it end up where it will…one must live.

In one of the galleries I am walking around and there is a brochure on the wall for massages. Well this is fortuitous as I am in need for one after my marathon experience. The massage studio is a one person show and believe it or not it is in a room off of the gallery. 5 days later I feed the meter for two hours (20 minutes per quarter, not 7.5 like in DC), run across the street, grab a seat in the gallery, read my book for a few minutes and finally get my post marathon massage in a crunchy little 15 X 15 room while listening to some Indian strings while hearing the occasional creaking of the 100+ year old building (which has the best live theater in the basement with killer exposed stone walls on one side http://www.hookerdunham.org/docs/Lookaround.htm). Now did I mention that while I am getting the massage Kim’s black lab Magic is sleeping directly under the table the entire time? You really have to love Vermont!

Vermont City Marathon

Coming in for a landing

Now at the end of May the Vermont City Marathon is looming.  I am on the verge of starting the Marathon having run only 9 times in the past 40 days and none of them without pain.  In an effort to let things heal I have not run the previous 9 days.  I meet niece Hilary and her friend Tim at the start.  On the side note my niece gets a gold star for even getting to the starting line.  24 year olds have plenty of distractions making marathon training even more challenging than it already is.  On top of that she is prone to a bit of “Delhi belly” when running.  She would later finish at just over 5 hours.

So I am cautiously optimistic but in reality I am just wondering what mile I need to hit before hearing from my quad where I can still walk and have that medal placed over my head.  I decide that 17 is that magic number, less than that I throw in the towel, greater than that and I am pot committed and in it for the long haul.

The gun goes off and in a humid cloudy 61 degree start we are off.  I would like to say that all was well on the injury front, but in the first 3 miles I felt the familiar twinges.  Now I had been to the osteopath who fixed the alignment that caused the injury.  The question remained did my quad have enough time to heal?  Given I was less than 5K into a 42.5K race the Vegas odds on me finishing were not looking good.  But as I was coming to grips with an early trip to the showers the miles started ticking away and my injury was quiet and would be silent for the duration, but that is not to say that I wouldn’t be hearing from my quads again!

By mile 7 I was convinced that my injury was a non-issue and my goal of finishing had been upgraded to going for time.  The weather continued to cooperate with only moments of sun sneaking through.  The humidity was high but 15 years in DC have trained me well for that.  I pick up the pace from my 9:40 average.

At the halfway mark I am on pace for a 4:05 after some quick math all I need is to hang with 9 minute miles and life is good for a sub 4 marathon.  Through 16 sub 4 is looking more and more likely, but as I hit my “I can walk from here 17 mile mark” the wheels start coming off.  My quads are showing the effects of under training and my sub 4 disappears quicker than Ussain Bolt downhill.  I don’t see mile 18 without a two minute walk break and more of the same for 19.  Before 20 I realize that perhaps two bags of blocks and a GU were just a bit too much for my system.  After a quick pit stop it is time to stretch my quads.  Now let me tell you there is no better way to see how your hamstrings are doing than by pulling your heal to your butt to stretch your quads.  Before my heel comes remotely close to my butt my hamstring knots up the size of a baseball (well perhaps a golf ball, but it felt like a beach ball).  So my hamstrings have now joined the picket line with my quads, oh joy of joys.  I am faced with a 10K with my calves being the only major leg muscles still on board.  The wall had arrived early and was not going anywhere!

Just after passing mile 21 I am greeted with what my long legs usually consider a welcome sight, a downhill.  Usually my long legs can stride out and fly by the more vertically challenged runners.   Today there is a bit of a snag as my brakes are broken.  My quads will not be playing the role of brakes on this hill.  To compensate for the lack of brakes I slow to a crawl down the hill to discover even this is asking more that the quads have to offer.  So, is this the end of my day?  Do I scoot down the hill like my nephews down stairs when they were kids?  Luckily my hamstring still had some gas in the tank and I am off down the hill walking backwards.  I imagine I am not impressing what few spectators there are or my fellow runners, but there are no artistic scores in a marathon so who really cares!

A quarter mile past the bottom of the hill and I am on the bike path along Lake Champlain.  The good news is that It is flat the rest of the way , the bad news is I have four miles to go to the finish on legs that have been on borrowed time for 4+ miles already.  My good friend Katherine had provided me with some really positive mantras to get me through the last few miles.  I had shrugged them off as I had completed 13 marathons and didn’t need them before and I was going to continue to be a bad ass boy and make it through all by myself.  Well my testosterone failed me as did my mantra memory.  The best my taxed mind could come up with was “5 miles to go”.  Pretty simple and with each passing mile… you guessed it 4 miles to go, pretty ingenious don’t you think?  Before 4 miles to go was repeated more than 82 times it becomes abundantly clear that my running shoes hit their last mile.  I can tell by the pain emanating from the balls of my feet that the shoes had transitioned to lawn mowing duty.  It would have been nice to discover this on a training run, but that ship has certainly sailed.  Fortunately there is a dirt runnable trail just off of the running path.  Foot pain taken care of, now back to “4 miles to go”…3 miles to go…am I really passing people?  I am doing nothing but plod along looking at the shoes ahead of me.  2 miles to go and I find a sure sign I am close, the beer stop!!!  Now, not an officially sanctioned stop, but one that has been there the previous 3 times I ran this race.  Probably not the most ideal race beverage, but I will take whatever motivator I can at this point.  1 mile to go…

Now I have to say that finishing a marathon is quite an emotional experience.  I think I have fought back tears every single time; however, this race is just a bit different.  I am being hit with the emotion ten minutes out.  What is up with that?  Is it the beer?  Have I become programmed to do this after 4 hours (a bit slow today as you can imagine)?  The reality of it will not sink in until a couple of hours after the race.  1 mile to go, 1 mile to go, 1 mile to go.

Heading into the waterfront park and the huge crowds I hear my oldest brother yelling and there he is with his girlfriend.  I quick fist pump to the sky for them and further into the sea of humanity I go.  There is mile 26, .2 miles to go, but no mantra needed at this point…  Normally I am good for a burst of speed for the last 400 meters but that concept is laughable at this point.  50 meters to go and I break into my imitation of a plane coming in for a landing, arms out running serpentine dipping the wings at the appropriate times to facilitate the turn.  In Athens 2004 during the marathon Brazilian Vanderlei de Lima while leading was tackled by a crazy Irish priest and as he came in for the bronze he put out his wings and flew side to side on the way to the medal stand.  Now his country started to complain and demanded that they give him a gold medal.  The reality is that he was fading and was going to end up with a bronze anyway.  It is my understanding that he was not behind the appeal and asked that it be dropped.  To reward him for his handling of the event he was awarded the Pierre de Coubertin medal for sportsmanship to go with his bronze medal.  Personally I think the best thing that ever happened to him was to be tackled allowing him to show great sportsmanship to the world while still getting the medal he would have gotten.  Anyway, in honor of him I am coming in for a landing that is the finish line.  My other brother and his wife are taking pictures for the paper (well really more for the website as newspapers go these days), 20 shutter clicks later and mission accomplished, marathon done!

Not a week later I am writing this and I find myself writing that this was my favorite marathon by far, but why?  Was it my fastest?  Not even close, at 4:17 I have 11 marathons faster and 2 slower.  For one of the slower I was injured and the other was my first where at mile 10 I had eclipsed my longest run to date.  So no it wasn’t the time, the reason was a bit deeper than some numbers.  I had never started a marathon with more uncertainty than this and I have never faced so many physical challenges in a race before.  Now these are contributing factors but definitely not the reason.  It all boils down to the fact I left nothing on the table.  It would have been easy to give in after each challenge but that didn’t happen.  I think that too often in life we fall short in giving our all.  Whether it is relationships, family, career or even mowing the lawn, too often we phone it in and the quality of our lives suffer a little because of it.  I hope this experience stays with me to serve as inspiration to be better at life!

If you take one thing from this piece please don’t let it be how to prepare and run a marathon 🙂

Great training run at Boston

When in Boston to watch the marathon I went for a six mile run along the Charles. That is one tough run to beat, you get to run through BU and being the Tuesday after the marathon classes were in full swing. I caught the campus between classes and the sidewalk was full of interesting coeds. There may even have been some cuties there, but I of course didn’t notice being so focused on my training run.

After going through BU I headed to the Charles and started my run back. This was as much fun as bobbing and weaving through BU but for completely different reasons. Seriously, can you really beat the water, the boats, a great path and trees freshly adorned with the season’s leaves?

Unfortunately my left quad started playing Yin to the run’s Yang (or is it Yang to the Yin?) and a twinge reared its ugly head with just over a mile to go. I didn’t think too much of it and continued on my way. I rounded a corner and running towards me was Mr. Boston himself Bill Rodgers. I remember growing up in Southern Vermont in the day of three TV stations fed poorly through an aerial antenna hearing all about Bill Rodgers come the spring. Now being a lad and the youngest of three boys my running goal was to outrun a brother or make it around the kickball diamond. I was much more successful at the latter, but oh how the tides have turned on the former  Anyway, back to Mr. Boston running towards me. I had the opportunity to hear him speak at our running club banquet not too long before and as he spoke all I could think of was an absent minded professor who if you saw in the grocery store you would feel compelled to help him as surely he would starve if left to his own devices. Seriously, check this out http://insiderspassport.com/images/bill-rodgers-carytown-10k.jpg Anyway, I wished him a good morning and he gave me a look as if I asked him the 87th digit of PI. I chuckled a bit and had a smile that would have lasted all the way back to the hotel if not for my quad reminding me that all was not well.

Unfortunately the injury would worsen over an ill advised speed workout and I found myself running infrequently and with pain. With just under 6 weeks to go til the Vermont City Marathon it is not looking hopeful.