Marathon Training

There must be at least one person wondering what marathon training looks like.  (I know you are out there, but are just afraid to speak up.)  The answer is:  it all depends on what your goal is.

A world class marathon runner will run at a crazy stupid pace of about 4 minutes, 50 seconds per mile.  My best 10K (6.2 miles) race ever, when I was 23 years of age, was at a pace of about 6:20/ mile.  A 4:50 pace for 26 miles is an unimaginable feat.

My primary goal in running marathons has always been to finish.  When I ran the marathon in 2003, I finished in 3 hrs 47 minutes, at a pace of 8:40/mile.  I would hope to run now at about a 9:15/mile, or maybe 9:30, more realistically.  10:00/mile would actually make me happy. 

So, this is what the training would look like, with that goal in mind:

		Mon	Tues	Wed	Thu	Fri	Sat	Sun			Week  total
6/25			3		3		5	2			13
7/2			3		3		4	3			13
7/9			3		3		3	3			12
7/16			3		3		3	3			12
7/23			3		3		4	3			13
7/30			3		3		5	3			14
8/6			3		4		6	3			16
8/13			3		4		4	3			14
8/20			4		4		6	3			17
8/27			4		4		8	3			19
9/3			4		4		10		21
9/10			4		4		8	3			19
9/17			4		4		12				20
9/24		4	4		4		10	3			25
10/1			4		4		14	3			25
10/8			5		5		10	3			23
10/15			4		5		16	3			28
10/22			4		5		12	3			24
10/29			4		5		18				27
11/5		3	5		6		12	3			29
11/12			4		6		20	3			33
11/19			4		4		12	3			23
11/26			3	2	3		8	3			17
12/3			2	2	rest	2	26.2				28

As you can see, all it takes is time.  Each one of those miles is roughly 9 minutes.  The total amount of actual running time involved is a mere 65 hours.  Piece of cake, as long as there are no injuries.

Harry H. Dukes, Jr.

I was recently doing some work in his old office in his garage, and couldn't help but notice a framed newspaper article on the wall.  It was printed around 1987, not long before Mr. Dukes died.  The article spoke about his individuality and his life long effort to be part of and to contribute to his community.  Indeed, he had a colorful life.

The Dukes family has a long history in Millville, DE.  In the article, he told the story of working for his father in his general store, where he claimed that from the locals, "I learned to swear for 5 minutes straight without repeating the same cuss word."  It was a comment I could picture him saying.  He always had a funny quip.  (See other historical information about Millville.)

But the overwhelming thing I came away with from reading the article was the regret of not having gotten to know Mr. Dukes better.  I see now he had a great wealth of knowledge and experience from which I could have benefited.  But during the time I knew him, I was too busy being a youth to take advantage of it.

I suspect that as a general rule, I greatly undervalued relationships with my elders while I was growing up.  I probably tried to learn from them what I needed to know at the moment, but rarely just let them shower their experience on me as a matter of routine.  Generally, most elders don't just do that unless invited, and I wasn't one to extend the invitation.

This is one of those lessons I would like to teach my children.  But it is likely they may follow in my footsteps, and take years to learn it.  Well, there's always hope.

Sometimes I Cry

I'm not one to cry much. It's not a man thing...not sure what it is. I don't try not to cry.  I think that if I listen to this song enough, I just might, and I would feel better.

Sometimes I Cry

(Buddy Miller, Julie Miller,&  Jim Lauderdale)

Moments when I could swear
It's like you were just here
Somebody wake me up when we get there
So you'd be here why can't you be here
Sometimes I cry sometimes I cry

I stop holding up and my heart gets stuck
And that might take awhile
Sometimes I cry sometimes I cry
Sometimes I just break down and my tears come round
Like water from the sky
Sometimes I cry yea yea

No one knows what might happen
Takes away so much that matters
Images showing up start me thinking
And remembering I'm remembering

Sometimes I cry sometimes I cry
I stop holding up and my heart gets stuck
And that might take awhile
Sometimes I cry talk to you and sigh
Sometimes you still make me laugh
And that helps to pass
All the carrying on
Sometimes I cry yea yea

Can't make the puzzle fit like before
We'll have to discuss that a lot more

Sometimes I cry sometimes I cry
I stop holding up and my heart gets stuck
And that might take awhile
Sometimes I cry
Sometimes I cry
Sometimes I just break down and my tears come round
Like water from the sky
Sometimes I cry yea yea
Sometimes I cry
Sometimes I cry

Things You Think About While Running

One of the reasons I enjoy running is that it frees your mind of just about everything while doing it.  I often find that if I want to think about anything, I have to make a conscious effort to do it, and I am able to focus solely on that one thing.  Otherwise my mind just focuses on the next step, the next breath, aches, my pace and other important running stuff.

Despite all that, one thing that frequently just pops into my head is a person - Brendan Warner.  Brendan was a classmate of mine at Indian River High in Frankford, DE.  He ran cross country (one of many sports), and after just about every cross country meet, the morning announcements would include the news that he had won.

I once ran with Brendan, or actually behind him, at one of those semi-annual PT tests they make you take in school so that they can chart whether you improved at all from all those PT classes.  He ran with a relaxed style, his arms at his side, and with his hands dangling completely relaxed at the wrist, almost limp.  It wasn't until some time later that I learned that this relaxed form is perfect for distance running.

So once in a while I will look down at my hands while running, and think of Brendan.  And for a brief period of time, I will relax my wrists like he did.  I've done it for the past 29 years of running.  If I had run cross country with him, I'm sure that wouldn't have been the only thing he taught me.

It just goes to show the kind of crazy things I remember, and makes me wonder about what kind of things people remember about me.

Don't mean to get all weird, Brendan.  Go Redskins!

Georgetown, Delaware Little League

Our boys had their last Little League games last night.  They had a great season, and have both learned a lot.  They are well liked by their coaches, who expressed a desire to coach them next year.

Asher pitched some in this last game.  His pitching has steadily improved over the season.  Asher takes everything to heart, and is very conscious of his performance.  It is one of his strong points.

Asher

Elias does not seem to take his performance as much to heart.  And since he doesn't have quite the natural ability as his younger brother, it is one of his strong points.  He just does his best.  We discovered that Elias's prescription had changed dramatically since his last eye exam.  His new glasses came in this week, in time for his last game.  His performance improved noticeably.  The coaches rotated the players around more than usual, and Elias ended up playing second base for an inning... even made a play at first.  At the end of the game, Coach Penuel complimented him on his efforts, and gave him the game ball.

Elias - next to last player on right.

Coming into Little League two years ago, we heard all kinds of cautions, mostly pertaining to overly competitive coaches and parents.  We have experienced none of that.  Georgetown Little League has been an outstanding organization, staff and parents alike.

We did have one small incident, the details of which are listed below:

• A visiting umpire made a questionable call.
• Elias's Coach Jeff tried to question the call, the umpire refused to discuss it, and as he walked away, Jeff muttered the words "Well that's a horse crap call."
• The umpire immediately ejected Coach Jeff from the game.  It was his first ejection, ever.
• A parent got involved in the situation (normally calm and extremely pleasant), and probably without thinking, let the "F" word slip.  He too was ejected from the field by the umpire.  The parent protested that he had just cut the grass on the field, and couldn't be ejected.  The umpire did not think these extenuating circumstances merited any leniency, and the parent was ejected anyway.  When he hesitated to leave, the umpire threatened to cancel the whole game.
• Another parent rose from the stands and shouted "It's all about the kids.  Let them play ball!"
• Our coach and parent then quietly left the field.  No yelling, no kicking of dirt onto the umpire's shoes, which was very disappointing, as I thought these things were part of the game of baseball.  Apparently not in Little League.
• The term "Horse Crap Call" became a joke for the rest of the season.  
• Elias was called out at first last night by this same umpire.  The ball clearly reached the base before he arrived and the umpire called him out, but the first baseman apparently bobbled and then dropped the ball.  Jeff was coaching first base and politely asked for a revision of the call, which was ignored.  He elected not to use the term "Horse Crap Call", and let the call go in the interest of good sportsmanship and the fact it was closing night.
• Later, Jeff said he thought I should have gone to bat for my son, and should have used the "Horse Crap Call" line myself.  

Thank you Georgetown Little League.  Thank you coaches.  And thank you boys.  From your perspective,  you are just playing a game.  From ours, you are enriching our lives.

The Voice Moses Must Have Heard

This is a country song.

I don't care if you don't like country music.  I don't care if you don't like guitar pickin'.  Just listen to Josh's voice.  It is, well, just listen for Pete's sake.  You don't have to become a fan of country or get a pickup truck or drink beer or learn to line dance.  It won't hurt much at all.

Now didn't you just say to yourself  "What! How does he do that?"

Father's Day 5k

At 7:30 this morning,  I ran the Seashore Striders Father's Day 5k in Rehoboth Beach, DE.  The last race I ran was the Father's Day 5k last year.

You can't see it well, but I'm wearing my 88.7 WKNZ t-shirt.  It is the first t-shirt the station made, and was actually a gift as part of a fundraiser before the station went on the air.  It was also before they officially named the station "88.7 The Bridge".

I chose to start at the front, and work my way all the way to the back during the race.  This way, I could be certain that everyone had a chance to view the back of the shirt.  Free advertisement for the station.  It was the least I could do.

This is my mean, intimidating race face.

Afterwards, we ate breakfast at the Royal Treat on Wilmington Ave.  The three pancakes, two sausage links, and two eggs just about replenished my burned up supply of energy.

Actually, I finished in 26:02, 155th out of 393, 9th in the male 50-54 age group.

Marathon #3?

I ran my first marathon at the youthful age of 24 while in the Army stationed at Fort Hood, TX .  In 2003, at the not-so-youthful age of 42, I ran a second at the Jersey Shore.  It's been almost 10 years, and I have the itch again.

I stumbled upon a marathon just 40 minutes from home.  The course is spectacular, with some of the most beautiful scenery in the great state of Delaware.

If I elect to run, I'll need to start training specifically for it about 20 weeks before the December 8th race.  That gives me about 6 weeks to think about it, and work up to the beginning of the training schedule.

I think that almost anyone can run a marathon if they are able to complete the training without injury.  I am prone to shin splints - pain on the front side of the lower legs.  It comes from increasing mileage too fast.  But increasing mileage is the nature of the training.

I am also prone to fatigue.  It comes from old age.  So for now, I will ponder on the idea and let it sink in some.

Burning Down the House

February 12, 1979...I was sitting in Joe Palermo's Biology II class.  Mary Jean Bunting talked about just seeing the Talking Heads on Saturday Night Live singing "Take Me to the River".  She wasn't impressed.  They had just released their second album entitled "More Songs about Buildings and Food".  The album title alone was a statement of their creativity.

But we weren't in class to discuss music.  We were there to learn from Joseph Palermo.  Mr. Palermo was a relatively new teacher at Indian River High School in Frankford, De.  The first class I took with him was Biology I in the ninth grade.  My family had moved to upstate NY for two years , and when we returned home to Delaware for my freshman year, I was a year ahead in math and science.  So they put me in sophomore classes.  It was odd being a ninth grader in tenth grade classes.  The feeling of not knowing exactly where I belonged took me a couple of years to get over.  Or maybe I never did.

Mr. Palermo was a breath of fresh air in the midst of that transition.  I had my epiphany of the value of education in the eighth grade .  I had latched on to two teachers at Honeoye Falls-Lima Middle School - Kenneth Pike who taught science, and Doug Powell who taught mathematics.  Their love of the sciences had grown on me, and I started a habit of using teachers as role models.  Early in that 9th year, Mr. Palermo was one of the teachers who took that place.  He was young, energetic, and full of fresh ideas.  He didn't do things the way everyone else did.

Neither did the Talking Heads.  Their fifth album, interestingly entitled "Speaking in Tongues", contained the song "Burning Down the House."  It has an extremely interesting and complex rhythm near the end of the song with a combination of instruments, predominantly percussion.  Much of the music I listen to tells a story with words.  This doesn't.  I think the words and voices are there only to make a sound to go along with the music.  The story they tell is in sound of the instruments and voices together.  A whole nother world of creativity.

For some logistical reason, I had ended up with my given class of '79 in Biology II with Mr. Palermo.  He did not remain in high school education.  He left soon after our senior year to pursue Sports Medicine.  I'm sure he had a successful career in that field, but high school education lost a valuable asset when he moved on.  Perhaps he found where he really belonged.  Fortunately for us, my classmates and I were on the receiving end while he poured himself into teenagers for those few years.  Thanks Mr. Palermo.