MS150 Ride -- 2008 Version

Multiple Sclerosis (MS) is one of those all-too-common things many hear, but few know about or understand. I figure between now and when I die, me or someone I know and love, will be diagnosed with MS, or cancer, or CP, or a host of many other brutal diseases and debilitating conditions that inhibit one's life and ability to live. While we are healthy and able, let's do something. Make a donation, volunteer, speak out, raise money, make a positive difference any way you can and know how. Every year across the US, thousands ride their bikes one weekend out of the year in cities east and west, north and south, to raise money for MS.

Last year, Veener did this ride. This year, I am joining her. We are riding on the same team, Left Hand Brewing with Captain Mick.

Please click on this link to simply educate yourself about MS. If you are so inclined to donate, thank you. If not, I understand - but do educate yourself, please.

To donate, please click on this link:

And then click on my name.

Thanks for reading, donating, and being educated!

Dave

PS - If I get $500. in donations, I will do the Century Option (100 miles instead of 75) on one of the 2 days. If I raise $1,000. or more, I will do the Century Option BOTH days. Make me work people!

Home? Or Home?

So, the lady and I returned from a New Year's trip to New York back in January and I started this post not long after. New York is the state where we were both born and raised. I left New York in 1995 when I was 23 years old. At the time, I simply needed to experience something more than "The City that never sleeps." Or the Island that sleeps in lieu of New York City. Anyway, here I still live, two time zones and 1,818 miles away (according to Google Maps).

One of the most common questions I seem to hear is, "Don't you miss the ocean?" And the honest answer is no, I do not. The ocean is magnificent, beautiful, and powerful. I appreciate it when I see it. And I dare not speak to the negative about the qualities of growing up on Long Island - it's a great place to grow up. But I can honestly say, I LOVE being landlocked here in Colorado.

The second most common question I seem to hear is, "Do you ever get homesick?" Hmmmmm, I thought I was home here in Colorado. We own our home here. We work here and pay taxes here. I thought this is home. Or is it? Where is home? What is home? And is "it" what you make it? In this day and age of folks jet-setting and moving to and fro all willy-nilly, one cannot help but wonder, where is home anymore? And is "it" truly what you make it?

I thought this post was going to be much longer and require a whole bunch more thought - philosophical or otherwise. But perhaps not. Perhaps you can just toss your thoughts this way. Start one of them good ol'-fashioned discussions.

So, where are you from? And where exactly is "home?"

A Run Through Time - RACE REPORT

Saturday, March 15, 2008 in beautiful Salida, Colorado. I love this place and not just cause of its beauty and serene nature. This particular race holds strong sentimental value for me - it was my first half-marathon ever, and I've gotten to participate in it each of the first 3 years this race has been in existence.

REWIND: Two years ago in 2006 was the inaugural "Run Through Time." I had been training with one of the local half-marathon training groups from Fast Forward Sports as they prepared for the Canyonlands Half Marathon. It was my attempt at understanding myself as a runner and determining my capabilities. After a month or so, I realized I could do this distance. So I went to sign up. Too late, all sold out. DOH!!! So, my quest to find an alternate half marathon led me to Salida, CO that March for the inaugural Run Through Time. I finished that year in 2:08:38, 26th overall out of 88 starters.

Last year, I was coming off 2 straight weeks of field work in Utah and felt pretty tired on my drive down the day before. The morning of was not too much different than normal. The start at 9am was prompt, and by about 9:05 up and over the first small hill, I knew I was in trouble; I was miserable. The stomach cramps started around mile 4 but subsided by the turnaround at mile 6.5. They returned with a vengeance around mile 11. As I came down the final homestretch, I was doubling over and Kirk thankfully brought me in the last 1/10 of a mile or so. I crossed in excess of 2 1/2 hours. Uggghhhhh..... so this year, I had some time to make up and some demons to ditch.

Kirk was doing the full marathon this year and I figured we'd be good pace partners to start. We stayed together for the first 3 miles or so and then he inevitably took off. His stride was comfortable and easy and I figured he'd have a very good shot at cracking the top 10 (I think he ended around 12th overall). I wondered if I'd have as good a day trying to bury the fatigued ghost from last year. We had driven the course the night before which helped immensely. I'm not a watch-wearing guy or a techno-looney (like most runners I know), so knowing landmarks (the pavement to dirt transition, the forest road cattle guard, etc.) was invaluable. The ascent up was comfortable; I stayed in a comfortable Zone 2-3 and hit the turnaround at roughly 1:11-1:12 (if I heard the guy in front of me correctly). I thought that a 48-49-minute descent over the last 6.6 miles would be possible to crack 2 hours, but this being a tune-up to gauge fitness and progress for my 2 ultimate goals (the SDU in Fruita in April and the 50K Sage Burner in Gunnison in June), I did not feel this was the time to fly. I was happy. It was a great day and I was thinking more about how fortunate I am to be out here at 9,400' in March, in shorts, with my lungs and heart working slightly overtime, but all told in sync and in rhythm.

I descended relatively easily, though pushing myself somewhat to make sure my effort was sustained and even. And I did NOT want to get passed at all on the down. I turned that into my goal and to pick off the 5 runners that had passed me at my uphill pee break. I passed one of them around mile 10 with the other four in my sights, but to no avail. We all seemed to be pushing the 7:30-ish pace. But noone passed me from mile 5 through the end. Truly, the minor victories of a race are internal. At least in my eyes.

As I crossed the line at the 2:01:10 mark (a PR by over 7 minutes!!!) in Riverside Park, local Jon McManus handed me a very tastefully done Finisher's notecard with some local history and anther gracious volunteer grabbed my tag as my hands decided to not grip that little piece of paper required to rip. Wow. I was woozy. I then saw Kirk's wife Aspen and their sweet little boy Nick walking towards me. I was so delirious, I exclaimed, "Hey Luke!!!" Luke is my dear nephew who was 1,900 miles away in New York. I guess I was slightly hallucinating. I realized my silly error and apologized, assuring Aspen that it was the highest of compliments to think I was looking at my dear nephew. That strange wooziness turned into an afternoon-long runner's high. Sweet.

Saturday, March 15, 2008 proved to be a great day. For me, hopefully for all who were out and about. And next year, 2009, I have my sights firmly set on doing the full marathon up to Turret.

Thanks to Chaffee County Runner's Club for once again putting on a spectacular event.

High, and fun, running,
Dave

And back again.....

OK now. For sure, this time I mean it. I am back BABY!!! (said in the vein of George's father on Seinfeld). Work trips are history, recovery has almost taken place, and life as I know it is about back to "normal."

Thanks for your patience during my hiatus. Look for several posts and a slight page upgrade over the next few weeks.

Cheers,
Dave