tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-48214786310141048722024-02-19T00:08:35.466-08:00Where Chris RunsWhere Chris Runshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09554455211881718227noreply@blogger.comBlogger89125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4821478631014104872.post-24134078053697704572019-09-25T15:56:00.002-07:002019-09-25T15:56:34.816-07:00Dawn to Dusk 2019 Portland, OR<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeg6yzwoD5O_x5aO_osixBpjxlxMAUWVLzaBHsI9xzTBF_uwEGN6egkJ0jrXJele75lCF2dPVu88suW_xIXnfF7wRgsuazydALGFqPYOPj6Wk4HcmpTxVXdlxge832IQoNwFoh3baJQog/s1600/Starkbridge.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeg6yzwoD5O_x5aO_osixBpjxlxMAUWVLzaBHsI9xzTBF_uwEGN6egkJ0jrXJele75lCF2dPVu88suW_xIXnfF7wRgsuazydALGFqPYOPj6Wk4HcmpTxVXdlxge832IQoNwFoh3baJQog/s320/Starkbridge.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Stark Street Bridge over the Sandy River</td></tr>
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<div dir="ltr" id="m_-1229803799772981158gmail-docs-internal-guid-36a987b8-7fff-a631-a04e-4c43f75f4170" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Dawn to Dusk is headed to the big city of Portland in 2019. If you’ve never run Dawn to Dusk before, the idea is simple. On the shortest Saturday of the year, December 21st this year, we run from Sunrise (7:47 AM) to Sunset (4:29 PM). The route will start at Pittock Mansion,above the Portland Zoo. We will watch the sunrise over the Cascades and then start on the Wildwood Trail, run through downtown Portland, over the Hawthorne Bridge along the Eastbank Esplanade to Sellwood and then follow the Springwater Corridor to Gresham. We’ll cross the Stark Street Bridge over the Sandy River and start uphill through Corbett. We will finish at the Crown Point, Vista House in time to watch the sun set over The Columbia River.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">The total distance is 34 miles. The length of day on December 21st is 8 hours and 42 minutes. You can do this. If you want to do more and that is certainly encouraged, use your own GPS tracking device to record total mileage and double back on the route as often as you want. This isn’t a race. There’s no entry fee and there are no medals or t shirts or any swag at all. The only real objective is to be at the Vista House in time for Sunset. After, we will go to Level Beer Taproom for food and drinks, and if you really need a t-shirt to commemorate, buy one from Level, you’ll always remember what day you got it.</span></div>
<br /><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">There are some logistics to figure out, namely rides up to Pittock and down from the Vista House. So, if you are for sure “in” or are a strong “maybe” let me know. This will tell us how many transport vehicles we might need. If you are interested in driving either to the start or from the finish, your beer is free, and everybody will love you even more than they already do.</span><br />
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Here is a link to the route <a href="https://www.runningahead.com/maps/2faef87c308648a4b170add9fdefe041?unit=mi&map=roadmap">Dawn to Dusk 2019</a> </span><br />
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span>
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Message me your contact info if you want to join us or want more information. owensx41@gmail.com</span><br />
Where Chris Runshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09554455211881718227noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4821478631014104872.post-62043522582898040412018-07-16T10:24:00.002-07:002018-10-10T16:34:45.035-07:00Lived in Bars Journey Run<br /><br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;">
“Lived in bars<br />And danced on tables<br />hotels, trains<br />And ships that sail.”<br />Cat Power</div>
<br /><br />This years journey run seemed to be a desired mileage in search of a plan. I had several different ideas in mind, but eventually decided on a plan that involved a train. And so, the day after the fireworks of July, I boarded a train in Salem headed north. An empty boxcar would have been way cooler, but an Amtrak to Kelso did just fine.<br /><br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgslXPovmGTm006WJNh96Hp8mVfeJByHCLhSkgBylvIxIvtn90ZvtgyNE3mamzJotAaCZu0Wqo9vuCLoFeCg834flLyrtEizXlpEeivKgAZVHoF7ailPIyn0RjDkq2S9MssKMudEwYKwxM/s1600/IMG_0842.jpg"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgslXPovmGTm006WJNh96Hp8mVfeJByHCLhSkgBylvIxIvtn90ZvtgyNE3mamzJotAaCZu0Wqo9vuCLoFeCg834flLyrtEizXlpEeivKgAZVHoF7ailPIyn0RjDkq2S9MssKMudEwYKwxM/s320/IMG_0842.jpg" /></a></div>
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"He was waiting for a station just like some people wait for a train" Michelle Shocked. </div>
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Day one is usually an exercise in remaining calm, legs are rested and there is a real temptation to run too fast or too far when “fresh”. That wasn’t a problem on this trip. I never really felt great, running wise. Almost like my head wasn’t completely in the task. I made some strange errors, for me, misjudging mileage, forgetting my hat and glasses at a restaurant. I’m prone to blonde moments, I just don’t usually make them at times like this. I made it in to St Helens a little more worn out than 30 miles on fresh legs should have left me.<br /><br />
Day two is subtitled, the existential crisis in Scappoose. My stomach was really unsettled after dinner the night before and just a few miles in to the morning it was really bad again. I knew that I had 14 miles coming soon with no facilities anywhere, so trying to put this delicately for non runners. I needed some things sorted out before I pulled out of Scappoose. The last thing heading east is a McDonalds on the edge of town. I stopped, drank some coffee, ate a little and waited for what McDonalds is famous for. While sitting, waiting, I lost all my enthusiasm for this trip. I used the usual tricks, break it up, imagine how it will feel to arrive certain places. Nothing really worked. I finally left McDonalds physically ok to continue but mentally in a hole. Then came The Hill, and if your mind isn’t right when you start going up to Rocky Point....it’s going to get worse. And it did, for a while, then the views starting to captivate me, then I saw a cougar, then I reached the top!<br /><br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQob8FLvSxrOUKWKUQY0PQh1yXbuICRSco2Dua386vOqwXtpmoRr4qPl_bVheom6jwwEOlgftX8QwioMzQLyjJ-0NaUfziT0GBwh9sSe3UrgBku5LjHDqtK0jjNuFjGlrIRo-NaMOnc9E/s1600/IMG_0861.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQob8FLvSxrOUKWKUQY0PQh1yXbuICRSco2Dua386vOqwXtpmoRr4qPl_bVheom6jwwEOlgftX8QwioMzQLyjJ-0NaUfziT0GBwh9sSe3UrgBku5LjHDqtK0jjNuFjGlrIRo-NaMOnc9E/s320/IMG_0861.jpg" /></a>The day was still a struggle, I was feeling a little off and couldn’t quite pull it all together. I changed my route a little as I was starting to run on fumes and really needed to get to some food. While I was waiting for food at mile 24, I realized I didn’t have 17 more miles in me on this day and started looking at alternate routes to get home. I ended up with 32 miles for the day and had veered west a bit. I stopped for the night in Aloha, had some sushi and a strawberry milkshake and sat down with the map on my phone and figured out what day three would look like. <br />
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Crossing the Willamette <br /><br />
It was going to be 46 miles to get home. From the beginning of this trip, my plan had been to finish day three in time to eat, shower, rest and then put on a suit and tie and walk across the street to Formal First Saturday at Archive, one of my favorite hometown bars. I made one questionable route decision, a long gravel road with several free range dogs, but other than that, I was finally starting to get into that run all day rhythm. Usually on multi day runs, day three is likely to be the most difficult. This trip, maybe because it also brought me to the finish, it was the easiest. <br /><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjneF0Xyi0dBSaPZ2OSTtlrdw1BnDY1NHeXMGt_ls7hnCgqE_Ypju9N8K7GNCIA3-p7n5h1scjhbVCTebGKeOiywUBq9_UXm8SgL0kQYvsZ46Y9vTexUoWposGpJmniJcxzSyvdgNkPpjY/s1600/IMG_0867.jpg"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjneF0Xyi0dBSaPZ2OSTtlrdw1BnDY1NHeXMGt_ls7hnCgqE_Ypju9N8K7GNCIA3-p7n5h1scjhbVCTebGKeOiywUBq9_UXm8SgL0kQYvsZ46Y9vTexUoWposGpJmniJcxzSyvdgNkPpjY/s320/IMG_0867.jpg" /></a> <br /><br /><br />The Finish! <br /><br />
I love the logistics and the planning that goes into an adventure like this. I was a little sloppy with my preparation this year, and on long hot roads, with nowhere to hide, it showed. I remember at one point thinking, who turned gravity up so high. Because I’ve run with an 8 pound pack before, I underestimated how much that slows me down. Because I’ve run in heat before, I underestimated that too. I even took the mileage a little too lightly. I’m pleased with my ability to adjust on the fly. I’m also pleased that even though I left myself a pretty daunting final day, I finished it. I did what I usually do on days like that. I make a firm commitment to start, no matter what. That always seems to be the hardest part. Then, once started, do the math, figure out a schedule, where you have to be by when, break it down into pieces and do one piece at a time. I think this, all the time, but don’t say it out loud very often. My Dad would have loved this.Where Chris Runshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09554455211881718227noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4821478631014104872.post-23555263352104371512016-08-24T13:32:00.004-07:002016-08-24T13:32:53.502-07:00Once Around the World - Golden Gate Bridge to San Luis Obispo<div dir="ltr" id="docs-internal-guid-f19ed3a9-be21-5b25-c3f4-ce2c09caf434" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">My journey run down the California coast, to complete running 24,901 miles was amazing. Finishing my first trip around the world at my birthplace, with my mother, wife and family members was truly special. I’ve had a day by day report more or less completed for days but there is one part of the journey that I’ve wrestled with how best to report. I’ve decided to just get it out of the way first, as honestly as I can and also take the opportunity to speak about “ambassador programs” which I’ve wanted to weigh in on for some time.</span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Minutes before the start.</td></tr>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">My second night, I had planned to stay at the Pigeon Point Hostel. I specifically wanted to stay in a dorm room rather than a private room to get more of the hostel experience. In my grand vision, I would be sharing a room with a few guys that were bicycling the coast and/or from another country but spoke English well enough for us to share some of our life experiences. As I mapped out each day, it became obvious that my only food option prior to getting to the hostel would require a 3 mile detour and would be almost 6 miles before I finished. That day was already a 38 mile day and that really didn’t feel like a sound option. My other option was a place that was 2.5 miles passed the hostel, which would be adding 5 miles to my day. A week before I left, I wrote to Pigeon Point Hostel to see if there were any other food options that I may not be aware of. Since I did not want to them to only suggest that I travel the 2.5 miles, I took the time to explain what I was doing and how I would arrive there. I received 2 responses to my email. The first informed me that my recon had been correct and that those were the only 2 options on Hwy 1 near the hostel. But, they also informed me that they had some food, canned soups, dry ramen etc available for purchase at the hostel. So, I had a back up plan. I also received a very nice email from the Manager of the hostel. My email had been forwarded to him and he wrote to me, admiring the trip I had planned, notified me that he had comped my stay and asked if I would mention and/or tag them in any social media or blogging that I did. I had not, in any way, asked for this, though it was very nice of them to offer. I am aware of how this works. Many running friends of mine actively pursue sponsorship or, the new catch phrase, “ambassadors”. They get some free product, and in exchange, they promote the product on social media. I have mixed emotions about this. On one hand, I think it’s a fantastic, grassroots way for small businesses to promote themselves without needing a huge advertising budget. I do, however, question the objectivity of it. I’ve worn 56 pairs of the same Asics 2000 series shoes, but I would have some ethical issues endorsing the product. It has worked well for me, but I’ve never worn anything else. It’s entirely possible that there are dozens of shoes that would be even better for me. So, having graciously accepted my free night at the hostel, I posted, the day before arriving, how much I was looking forward to it. I would not have done this without the implied agreement. I also tagged the hostel upon my arrival. I probably would have done this anyway. As I will document later, the decision to stay at the hostel was probably my only bad planning decision. This decision was only bad planning, because of my circumstances and what I needed at the end of the day. It is absolutely no reflection on the hostel, but my hesitation on how to fairly and honestly talk about it highlights my feelings about ambassador programs. </span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZ1zIBoIQ82MKOaQ66c6YpynTwNgfZxxsQVVMjQ_pKcT7LtrC0HCcEBRd6H8aILfAHwe4fx1vwRrQKYxWk6oSl9nEStvL-KVvHP3WwTG4UZEm11XGdmOFafAGTepsN86pLik44I9_axok/s1600/IMG_8970.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZ1zIBoIQ82MKOaQ66c6YpynTwNgfZxxsQVVMjQ_pKcT7LtrC0HCcEBRd6H8aILfAHwe4fx1vwRrQKYxWk6oSl9nEStvL-KVvHP3WwTG4UZEm11XGdmOFafAGTepsN86pLik44I9_axok/s320/IMG_8970.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "arial";">Golden Gate Bridge</span></td></tr>
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<b><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"><b>Day 1, Golden Gate Bridge to Pacifica</b></span></b><br />
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">I really wanted to get Big Sur, Monterey and Santa Cruz lined up a day apart. I also wanted to Stay at the Hostel at Pigeon Point Lighthouse, so I either needed to make the Golden Gate Bridge to Pacifica longer than it needed to be, or be ok with a 20 mile first day. The 20 mile first day ended up being a great plan. It allowed me to start at noon and ease my way into the journey. I’ve run over the Golden Gate Bridge 5 or 6 times, but always early in the morning when there was very little pedestrian and bike traffic on the bridge. Starting at noon, it was crazy crowded! Lots of people on rental bikes. You knew they were coming by the brightly colored handlebar bags. These must be a safety feature for others, because the neon yellow printed handlebar bag almost always meant a swerving bike. The section from the bridge through The Presidio and Sea Cliff neighborhood was slow going but the houses were wonderful to look at and I had fun guessing how much they must be worth. Eventually I made my way to Land’s End Trail. </span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0zPNhGO8BF51OphVFUGLKRTPCLabQl8u8GECAXtZjE6ADlgKuEkl5aTAjTKFnZ76oQwQNSqSdpq7PLJxYX5yGft1XuqkCjhafdLxHcbUEvaN2HSSu9bmgwk7oG2WLzYJKtTBvsxiXtnE/s1600/IMG_8973.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0zPNhGO8BF51OphVFUGLKRTPCLabQl8u8GECAXtZjE6ADlgKuEkl5aTAjTKFnZ76oQwQNSqSdpq7PLJxYX5yGft1XuqkCjhafdLxHcbUEvaN2HSSu9bmgwk7oG2WLzYJKtTBvsxiXtnE/s320/IMG_8973.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Lands End Trail</td></tr>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"> This was not part of my original route, but several runners from the area strongly suggested it. It was beautiful. The view back toward the bridge, which was still shrouded in fog was stunning. I was a amused and disappointed at the number of people walking with their face glued to the screen of their phone, but I’ll take the blame for that. Bad planning on my part, scheduling my journey run during the Pokemon Go craze. </span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9r-8ss1RafVqqAOcoai1vmQLRSmi26nNpFQ7RhJ0JsqlQkphe4Fw5gfgtmEQo3WEVJ_pr-3INwzj2u_w9G8rmccibrrEUftP5xv0pTgCnLdq_wJHucWNltn2kHSZWp69IrpndxJoA-xg/s1600/IMG_8971.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9r-8ss1RafVqqAOcoai1vmQLRSmi26nNpFQ7RhJ0JsqlQkphe4Fw5gfgtmEQo3WEVJ_pr-3INwzj2u_w9G8rmccibrrEUftP5xv0pTgCnLdq_wJHucWNltn2kHSZWp69IrpndxJoA-xg/s320/IMG_8971.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Looking back toward the bridge</td></tr>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"> The run along Ocean Beach was, I’m trying to find a good word for it, dirty. The day was kind of gloomy and overcast. There was garbage seemingly everywhere, with disposable diapers and alcohol bottles topping the litter list. I made a wrong “turn” from Skyline Blvd on to John Muir Dr. It didn’t take me long to figure out I’d gone the wrong way and after digging out my glasses and consulting a map, I figured out I could keep going forward and get back on course. I decided to retrace my steps instead just to be on the safe side. The rest of the trip would have been pretty uneventful. The unique, every house is exactly the same, quality of Daly City made a long uphill climb more fun and then I was coasting in to Pacifica when I fell. It was near Sharp Park. I had 2 turns that I needed to make and was trying not to get lost again. I had the street names and directions in my head. I looked toward a 7-11, which I didn’t need today, but was thinking about how I might need them on other days and stepping up a curb and wham! I caught my toe on the curb and went down on the gravel walkway. So, 18 miles into 250 and I’d already hit the deck once.</span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUtY5QFRoD6FHarG11PYGzWlQyX7q8eNAHEDy2P_3AYlR8ODxOSA7IGYuEjQPw7IgizGqCvvr9pFwm18UW5_ONu5Do9DsW-3AbCY-dsOqTw6527Wtxrz1D7J_UWXAmpS4Jsry4JCyJUoQ/s1600/IMG_8977.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUtY5QFRoD6FHarG11PYGzWlQyX7q8eNAHEDy2P_3AYlR8ODxOSA7IGYuEjQPw7IgizGqCvvr9pFwm18UW5_ONu5Do9DsW-3AbCY-dsOqTw6527Wtxrz1D7J_UWXAmpS4Jsry4JCyJUoQ/s320/IMG_8977.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Pacifica</td></tr>
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<b><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"><b>Day 2, Pacifica to Pigeon Point</b></span></b><br />
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">One of the first things I did, when I was starting to plan this trip, was to reach out to local running groups along the way to get route advice. Ron Little from Pacifica Runners was the first I heard back from. His advice for altering my route slightly was tremendous and he and 2 other runners, Mor and Alan joined me for the first 15 miles of Day 2. It’s always fun to run with new people, and they were all very knowledgeable about local history and had great stories to share. These were easily some of the best miles of the whole trip. I know this might sound weird, but on my next trip to Pacifica, I’m eating at Taco Bell, that’s how well Mor sold it! This was my first day to figure out mid day eating, without a crew. The nice part about having crew is that you can schedule everything. When to eat, where more water will be etc. When you are running solo, you have to takes things where they are. This day, I knew I had no food options on the road for the last 19 miles so lunch was at almost the exact halfway point in the day. In long races, I’ve always had the plan to eat and then walk for a few miles after eating. This has never really worked very well because once people start passing me, I start running again. I was curious to see how I would handle the same strategy on a journey run without the worry of my place in a race. It worked out really well. I really had no stomach issues at all on the whole trip. With an exception on day 7, I had the same mid day meal every day….eggs, bacon and bread (or tortilla). I arrived at the hostel around 4:30, which was pretty close to what I had planned. I checked in with Michael, a cool hippie guy listening to reggae almost too loud to conduct business. I got my key, my towel and my bed sheets and directions to my dorm. Each building seemed to have about 4 to 6 dorm rooms with a kitchen and small living room area. I was the only person there, so I scouted around a bit, selected a bunk and took a shower. My normal journey run routine is: Eat something small, shower, sleep for an hour to an hour and half and then eat as much as I can make myself eat. I went back to the office to see what small thing I could eat. I got a can of lentil soup and some apple juice. Ate that and took my nap. When I woke up there was another guy in the dorm room so I said, “Hi, my name is Chris”. He did the best he could to inform me that he spoke zero English. Seriously, he couldn’t say “I don’t speak English”, in English. My grand plan had been to meet somebody interesting, with a car, and offer to buy them dinner if they would give us a ride. As I lay on the bunk deciding how I was going to approach convincing somebody to give me a ride to dinner another guy came in. Late 20’s early 30’s probably and kissing his female companion goodbye at the door as she went off to a women’s dorm. This seemed weird to me. Were they traveling together and kissing at doors comfortable, but not sharing a room comfortable? Were they just travelling as inexpensively as they possible could? I suppose these were questions that I could have asked, but I didn’t want to know bad enough to buy both of them dinner. I decided to wait for a better opportunity. A few minutes later, another guy came in. There was no kiss at the door this time but he also said goodbye to a woman, with a young child in her arms. I really needed to eat, and really didn’t have the required energy to roam the grounds looking for a ride or to hitch hike. I went back to the office and bought another can of lentil soup and 2 more boxes of apple juice. I asked Michael what my options for coffee were? </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"> “Yeah, man, totally, we have coffee” he said.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">“Fantastic”, I replied, “where”?</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">“Oh, right here in the office, in the morning dude, it’s a dollar a cup”.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">“That seems reasonable to me” I said, “what time is it ready”?</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">“7:30” and he handed me my change.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">As I ate my vegan, low sodium, lentil soup, I added up how many calories short I was for the day. I thought about how my first opportunity for food, water or coffee the next day would not be until mile 17. I consoled myself with the hope that I would at least get a good night’s sleep. I did. </span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgm1bp67xEGVtHAFGSn0Xqo_jVX8YrJwQnGiKFN8aked3dVge7cKHjf9UdpdaYPmEIAPjhINxxSK_I684DMs-DHJpw1QvH82tf5QVnKUQBeK8yu-nTpjObdRZHVeNxvJNSPZK7_59ZbdU/s1600/IMG_8983.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgm1bp67xEGVtHAFGSn0Xqo_jVX8YrJwQnGiKFN8aked3dVge7cKHjf9UdpdaYPmEIAPjhINxxSK_I684DMs-DHJpw1QvH82tf5QVnKUQBeK8yu-nTpjObdRZHVeNxvJNSPZK7_59ZbdU/s320/IMG_8983.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Pigeon Point Lighthouse</td></tr>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"><b>Day 3, Pigeon Point to Aptos</b></span><br />
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">I packed my pack the night before and slept in my running clothes, so that I wouldn’t have to wake anybody up at 5:30. I drank some hot water, hoping it would have the same effect on my digestive system as coffee does. I got myself together and was on my way. My first 17 miles were pure hell. I realized as I struggled, that I was going to end up going 29 hours in between cups of coffee. Davenport got me an egg and bacon burrito, coffee, orange juice and new water in my bottles. While I was walking my lunch off I saw 2 grey whales come up for air! A few miles later I settled into a real good rhythm, and ran really well for the afternoon. This was the first day that the temps rose to something that could be described as warm. The water jug that I had filled my bottle from had orange slices in it, which at the time I thought might be a nice addition. I was pretty disappointed to find out that it also had something “herb ish” making it almost impossible to drink. I came in to Santa Cruz a little dehydrated. As soon as I saw a 7-11 in the distance I gleefully poured out both bottles of hippie water and filled them at the 7-11. I had 9 miles to go to my hotel and several street turns. I looked at my map and tried to memorize them, but the part of the brain that can’t do simple arithmetic late in a race, can’t read maps and remember street names and directions very well either. I made a few wrong turns coming through town. I didn’t really add too much distance but the constant stopping to dig out my glasses and look at the map again, plus the never ending traffic lights made these last 9 miles take forever. My plan had been that once I got inside of a mile to go for the day, start looking for someplace to get food. By food I mean two things. The first being someplace to find after run food. This one is easy, usually chocolate milk and a piece of fruit is plenty. The second is someplace close to the hotel to find dinner later that night without much walking. I did really well on both counts this day in Aptos. A grocery store across the street from the hotel and a restaurant next door. I got in at 4:20 only to find out that my room wasn’t ready yet. So I sat, with my feet in the pool, drinking chocolate milk (Elliott joke….just burrowing in the sand) waiting for my room to be ready. I got caught up on calories but was late getting clothes rinsed out and hung up to dry.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">I posted this little side story on Facebook during my run.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">I have bicycle friends...you all seem nice enough. And we've done an admirable job of sharing the road. But if any of you ever say anything like what I'm about to report, you need to check yourself. I stopped at a beachside state park to use the bathroom. As I was putting my pack back on a bicycle dude approached me. He was younger than me, fit ish, but then spandex can deceive....I was in a pretty good mood when the conversation started, but he must have hit a nerve:</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">Bicycle dude, "are you running on the highway?"</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">Me, "yep"</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">BD, "kinda dangerous, don't you think?"</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">Me, "I don't know, no more dangerous than cycling"</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">Me (trying to be nicer), "what direction are you heading"</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">BD, "north, riding Santa Cruz to Pacifica today"</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">Note....this is 60 ish miles, admirable, but the equivalent of a 15 to 20 mile run....he doesn't know it yet....but we are clearly in very different arenas.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">BD, "how bout you, what direction and how far".</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">Me, "South, pigeon point to Aptos today, you've got some beautiful roads ahead of you".</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">BD, "today? What's tomorrow?"</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">Me, "Aptos to Monterey, I'm running from the Golden Gate Bridge to San Luis Obispo".</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">Note....this next question has been pissing me off for years, especially coming from cyclists.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">BD, "are you running the whole time or are you walking any of it?"</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">Me, "are you pedaling the whole time?</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">BD, "what?"</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">Me, "bicycling 10-12 mph is the equivalent of walking...nobody ever asks you if you're ever in your small chain ring. Coasting...that's stopping to rest if you're running, nobody ever asks you if you ever coast. So, yes, to answer your question...sometimes walking"</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">BD, "sheez, well, have a nice day"</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">Me, "you too". I should have added..."enjoy that tailwind the whole way".</span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVGwLVAtwMXCidxpfsm64fhDkeqTkxVdrFIp3vwGrfTxVBs7ML21rpUvKm58UeScUqxstqP2HeTlCUhPvttHZxEz71wOGoOTiDMy0zkl-fiqwoYz8_VhfjcMrUh4UzCotClnl3RIyasMk/s1600/IMG_8994.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVGwLVAtwMXCidxpfsm64fhDkeqTkxVdrFIp3vwGrfTxVBs7ML21rpUvKm58UeScUqxstqP2HeTlCUhPvttHZxEz71wOGoOTiDMy0zkl-fiqwoYz8_VhfjcMrUh4UzCotClnl3RIyasMk/s320/IMG_8994.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Monterey</td></tr>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"><b>Day 4, Aptos to Monterey</b></span><br />
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">My Birthday. I got a late start, due to having to use a hair dryer to get my clothes dry. The morning was pretty uneventful other than the headwind. I’d had a headwind the whole trip so far, but the rolling hills along the coast gave me an occasional break from the wind. Now, as I entered Steinbeck country it was really steady in my face. My lips were blistered from the day before, and I thought they were chapped and wind burnt, despite the fact that I’d been applying Burt’s Bees lip balm, which I assumed had some sunscreen properties. I stopped in Moss Landing for lunch, watched sea otters float on their backs cracking shells on rocks and ate a breakfast burrito. While I had my glasses out, I looked to see what the SPF rating was on the lip balm since my lips hurt so bad it was hard to eat. Zero. That would be a problem to solve, but I now knew that I had nothing along the road until I got in to Monterey. I hit a huge low point, after lunch, around mile 21. The wind was relentless, and the fields of artichoke, cauliflower and strawberries seemed to go on forever. </span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaVMoy7ntIawunufgiDb9i6-qfF9nDfJ9rMV3sepnPjZQkRc4hyaQMJEviF1f9_iVYMJZnFup0axEoUNe5_1-6j6qhUIEnvxdCCYQ0oYeX9_1e-Vi_Xw9SO-LPQL7LFOnUR35etynljqo/s1600/IMG_8989.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaVMoy7ntIawunufgiDb9i6-qfF9nDfJ9rMV3sepnPjZQkRc4hyaQMJEviF1f9_iVYMJZnFup0axEoUNe5_1-6j6qhUIEnvxdCCYQ0oYeX9_1e-Vi_Xw9SO-LPQL7LFOnUR35etynljqo/s320/IMG_8989.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Strawberry Fields Forever</td></tr>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">I was off the highway now and the farm roads were in horrible condition, almost like technical trail running. In the middle of my funk, I called Jeanne. She didn't answer, and I'm not sure what I would have said if she had, but I needed mental help. I spent about 2 miles contemplating hitch hiking. A motorized vehicle would go by, my direction, every few minutes. Many of them were pickup trucks, which are the perfect, safer for all, hitchhiker picker upper vehicle. Each time I would say, turn around and stick your thumb out, but then I wouldn’t. As I thought about it, I started having a conversation in my head. “You’ve hitchhiked enough to know how this works, if they stop, there will be the obligatory questions like, which way are you headed and how far are you going”. I questioned myself on what my replies would be, “Are you really going to ask for a ride all the way to Monterey”? I knew that wouldn’t happen. I humored myself with the thought of asking somebody to just drive me to the end of the artichokes, but I put the hitchhiking thought behind me. Now, I just had the damn strawberry dilemma to deal with. There were miles and miles of strawberry fields. The outside row, was always about 20 meters away from me. Each plant, in that outside row had at least a dozen beautiful, red ripe berries on it. I wasn’t hungry, but I wanted a strawberry BAD! The further I went, the deeper the obsession with strawberries got. I ran with an angel on one shoulder and a devil on the other. “Just get a berry, nobody is around”. “No, that’s not right, they aren’t there for just anybody to take”. “It’s one berry out of millions, they won’t even know it’s gone”. “If everybody that went by, thought the same thing it would be hundreds, maybe thousands of berries, it’s still wrong”. In the middle of this berry war for my soul, I rounded a corner. A truck, loaded with boxes of berries must have hit one of the thousands of potholes as it went around the corner. There, on the side of the road, was a pile of strawberries the size of a dining room table. I stopped, looking at them I said, out loud, “clearly, this would not be stealing”. These strawberries were officially abandoned and now fair game. It was hard to tell how long they had been on the side of the road, but there were tire tracks through the pile. Much of the mound looked more like strawberry jam than a pile of strawberries and they were dirty. Still, there must be a few good berries in there somewhere, and with that, I was on my hands and knees, digging through the strawberry mash. I found 2, beautiful, large firm berries. I stood up, rinsed them off with my water bottle and ate them. They were, easily, the best strawberries I’ve ever had in my life! My mood improved greatly after that. I was even happy to get back on Hwy 1, then off it again for the bike bath that I knew would be the last 8 miles. I was on the bike path when Jeanne called. I answered saying, “I’m better now”. She asked what I meant and I quickly explained that I was in a bad spot a while ago, but I’m better now. I told her I was 8 miles from finishing for the day. She told me that she had a surprise to tell me about when I finished. As I put my phone away, it occurred to me I should have asked for hints regarding the surprise. I began to wonder, is she going to meet me mid day tomorrow, coming in to Big Sur instead of the day after as planned? I was hoping this was true. Running without crew was getting tougher each day and I knew I had the Big Sur fire zone to deal with tomorrow. I thought I was about 4 miles from being done when Jeanne called again. I told her I was still 4 miles from being done, but was doing fine. She told me I was only about a mile from being done, which confused me. She then told me that she had just seen me from the highway. She had driven up from Paso Robles for my birthday! I tried to argue that while it was awesome she was there, she was wrong about the distance. As I turned off the bike bath into town I could see her walking up the sidewalk toward me. I did the best sprint legs with 128 miles on them could muster. A homeless guy was sitting on a retaining wall just in front of me when I yelled, “you are the most beautiful thing I’ve seen in days!” As I hugged her, he laughed, “I thought you were saying that to me, was going to be the nicest thing I’d heard in days”. As it turns out, there are 2 Econo Lodges on the same street, 2 miles apart. I thought I made reservations at the South one, I did not. Jeanne figured this all out before I got there. Had I been on my own, I would have passed the correct one, ran 2 more miles, only to find out I had to go 2 miles back. Jeanne offered to spend my birthday night with me and then give me one more day alone on the road, if I wanted. I did not. I had wanted to experience multiple days on the road, alone. I wanted to have to figure unexpected problems out without the luxury of a crew with a car. I wanted to get out of a bad spot on my own. I did all of that. Now, I wanted my super crew. We got sushi for dinner. Lip balm with sunscreen and real (not hotel room) coffee in the morning.</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCBzDviGUEuP6QQ6e0bCNVcjZw2ACI2Xqzq-4wGOOyCs1rqNASE2Tk8vZuyHA4EpL9VbKX-CgrAT7MR4zrbBYEimtiKCBrb0ZyJYFD5pGod2T_pyg4HXZKO9xF-_oBtG-GE_pj98DFZBI/s1600/IMG_8992.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCBzDviGUEuP6QQ6e0bCNVcjZw2ACI2Xqzq-4wGOOyCs1rqNASE2Tk8vZuyHA4EpL9VbKX-CgrAT7MR4zrbBYEimtiKCBrb0ZyJYFD5pGod2T_pyg4HXZKO9xF-_oBtG-GE_pj98DFZBI/s320/IMG_8992.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Jeanne to the rescue</td></tr>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"><b>Day 5 Monterey to The Soberanes Fire</b></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">As I drank good coffee, I did my usual morning inventory of how my body was doing physically. I rarely have blister problems and was really doing pretty good this trip too with the exception of the 4th and 5th toes on each foot. Skin was macerating on the bottom of them and the pinky toe on my right foot had broken open and was starting to look infected. I had brought tape with me, for my feet should they need it. I have never taped my feet for blisters before and I knew that there was no going back once I did it. I knew that from the time I taped them, they would have to stay taped until I was finished. Afraid that I might make things worse, I decided against taping. My lips were horrible. Very swollen and blistered. I knew, now, that I could keep them from getting any worse and we bought some medication to aid with the healing for the end of the day. I didn’t even bother to inventory how my legs felt. At this point, legs are never rested or fresh. They are either fed or they are not. The night before, Jeanne had shared with me what she saw as she drove up through the fire area and she strongly felt that I should not try to run through it. Rather than argue about something I had not seen on my own, we looked at a map and figured out how far we could comfortably get before we would need to make a decision. 16 miles into the day became decision time. While I ran, Jeanne scouted forward and talked to some highway patrol officers. She explained what we were doing and told me that one of them looked at her after she explained and simply said “please don’t.” They then told her that all of the emergency personnel in the area were of the opinion that Hwy 1 should be closed to all traffic.Our primary objective for the day was to not get in the way. Jeanne portaged me through the first fire section. It was pretty sobering to see scorched hills with flames still on them and the effort that was going into containing the fire. We drove through an area where I would have felt like a horribly entitled ass had I decided to run through it. </span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVmmW_-NW5KPbkdUIqyzzQ0plaMEWx4h1YK2-Ts7yB5hSce6kKW51K2rze9GXPUr-yKaRL0yMsyNECrn_kOuQYJEPw936ZuGNRV5M2SRd4a61cu-oHPjihGEfVmTfHZWY3FyOiuRs5o2c/s1600/IMG_8995.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVmmW_-NW5KPbkdUIqyzzQ0plaMEWx4h1YK2-Ts7yB5hSce6kKW51K2rze9GXPUr-yKaRL0yMsyNECrn_kOuQYJEPw936ZuGNRV5M2SRd4a61cu-oHPjihGEfVmTfHZWY3FyOiuRs5o2c/s320/IMG_8995.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Near Big Sur</td></tr>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"> Eventually we came to an area that wasn’t burning. There were no emergency vehicles around. The shoulder was clear. So I wanted to run. I managed to get another 7 miles before we hit another fire area. The highlight of the day was watching helicopters scoop water from the ocean and then disappear into the smoke on the mountain. The wind had shifted. The good news was I now had a tailwind. The bad news it was pushing the fire south. Our hotel for the night was now under an evacuation watch so we made the decision to cancel the next 2 nights hotel reservations and set up a base camp, well south of the fire, for the next 2 days. By the time we got all of this figured out and got settled in Cambria, I decided that 23 miles for the day was going to have to be good enough. Jeanne's intuition to come out early was a trip saver. This day would have come off the rails without her.</span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6ApzochDjcjOOsBmkAIgCRskMrOiNN-Dlp-WvAYnjwK9daF1kVaQ_UoOoDo90TxYvCySIu0_qa9qWrmEV8O4NitCHQ6b3JWGyRLr5xxjg-DTxGEyueecRdmH18esAyhtvfh5zmSQJMMk/s1600/IMG_0202.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6ApzochDjcjOOsBmkAIgCRskMrOiNN-Dlp-WvAYnjwK9daF1kVaQ_UoOoDo90TxYvCySIu0_qa9qWrmEV8O4NitCHQ6b3JWGyRLr5xxjg-DTxGEyueecRdmH18esAyhtvfh5zmSQJMMk/s320/IMG_0202.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Still smiling ish</td></tr>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"><b>Day 6 The Highway 46 Spur</b></span><br />
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">It's amazing how much better I run when I don't have to think. My first full day with rock star quality crewing was amazing. I knew exactly where water and food was going to be, everything was all ready for me, all I had to do was run. After spending a day watching tourist argue with emergency and fire personnel over where they should be able to go or park, we really wanted to stay well clear of the fire area. It was also very important to me, with so many meaningful people in my life coming together for the last 2 days, to get back to the original schedule for those 2 days. So, we made the decision to run inland to make up the miles lost through the fire. </span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjv64OjyXrbuGXJXMGhSC9hWl9gXpUuT0uuf98djcdnfrWKZ7ojDlmYlzSEicgkkCr6sd7t0TR2yDuQ-96qY6hd38D1RFD-lmDaynT2v6Ew0rQzI4fuUOIymcRCWtpgi314WyKn6PYFmhw/s1600/IMG_9007.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjv64OjyXrbuGXJXMGhSC9hWl9gXpUuT0uuf98djcdnfrWKZ7ojDlmYlzSEicgkkCr6sd7t0TR2yDuQ-96qY6hd38D1RFD-lmDaynT2v6Ew0rQzI4fuUOIymcRCWtpgi314WyKn6PYFmhw/s320/IMG_9007.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Looking more like home</td></tr>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"> The hills here really started looking and feeling like my childhood home and I got some much warmer temperatures. I had a James Shapiro (author of Meditations From the Breakdown Lane) moment when I realized that my shoes had developed a squeak that sounds like voices behind me. The Eucalyptus trees were such an unexpected treat. They smell amazing in the morning. When my kids were little we used to walk to a park that was lined with eucalyptus. When they would refuse to come home, as it got dark, I would tell them that there were vampires in the trees and they better hurry before it gets dark. They all still refer to eucalyptus as vampire trees. I was now free from the backpack and only needing to carry one bottle at a time. This ended up being my fastest day of the trip and that included a 1,700 foot, 6 mile climb. Everything seemed back on track now. I got in 34 really strong miles. I finished earlier in the day than on any of the previous days. </span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgn8CH7vvYeEsHvLpsgiitTMk9IzkRzBmYZnwwmBpPgY-YW6LQxKCQnbGmslAChmiW-lYxhUWhi6h07b06jttATH5DmUPUel87p5I5TARJWgXa6eUHhyNeE_q_wLR1eYvD2iXTsLYo3vc/s1600/IMG_9012.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgn8CH7vvYeEsHvLpsgiitTMk9IzkRzBmYZnwwmBpPgY-YW6LQxKCQnbGmslAChmiW-lYxhUWhi6h07b06jttATH5DmUPUel87p5I5TARJWgXa6eUHhyNeE_q_wLR1eYvD2iXTsLYo3vc/s320/IMG_9012.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Crew and Coke, the secret to speed</td></tr>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"> This really is the overriding “trick” to multi day running. The more time you spend running the less time you have for eating and sleeping. Regardless of how fast or slow a runner is, they will come face to face with this simple equation.</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGr6EjNJVR4W6eI4R1JvxkluJpGDP8kYHt3vxRSLHV-rFV9DuIBiOyiA0sTMpJX-_-vpntEFHP5m81NlUmZsJKAT90GVqRblJz27hagedMpboCLhZ9_NlTttHa-rEoAnLE3j1oZ5NO9DQ/s1600/IMG_9023.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="96" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGr6EjNJVR4W6eI4R1JvxkluJpGDP8kYHt3vxRSLHV-rFV9DuIBiOyiA0sTMpJX-_-vpntEFHP5m81NlUmZsJKAT90GVqRblJz27hagedMpboCLhZ9_NlTttHa-rEoAnLE3j1oZ5NO9DQ/s320/IMG_9023.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Cambria</td></tr>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"><b>Day 7, San Simeon to Cayucos</b></span></div>
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">I headed North out of Cambria, went a few miles passed San Simeon and then turned around. I was now as close to the original mileage and location as I could possibly get. (note….as I get ready to publish this, it’s with the knowledge that the fire is now threatening Hearst Castle, near San Simeon and that fire officials do not expect to contain the fire for several more weeks) Jeanne met me at San Simeon State Beach, filled up my water bottles and then headed to San Luis Obispo to pick up Mom who had arrived by train the day before. I was eating a sandwich in Cambria when we all met back up. It was so cool having my Mom as part of the crew. </span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjqKqCRWMMeUQuhj52SfzWLxTFqaIF_ZD-sdoTH7I6Fu6wZv8kPhyvYiDIgdoaDqZLBedUMffO5DYc1n4fBovOp7voAaSiWgJh9MdBdzqWBG7HeEsdn_mUuTaO4O9Urj_IFGPgmgWgf3M/s1600/IMG_9028.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjqKqCRWMMeUQuhj52SfzWLxTFqaIF_ZD-sdoTH7I6Fu6wZv8kPhyvYiDIgdoaDqZLBedUMffO5DYc1n4fBovOp7voAaSiWgJh9MdBdzqWBG7HeEsdn_mUuTaO4O9Urj_IFGPgmgWgf3M/s320/IMG_9028.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Super crew</td></tr>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">This was a perfect running day. It was misty in the morning, giving way to bright sunshine in the afternoon. The wind, now out of the North got stronger as the day progressed giving me a really nice push the last 10 miles. It seems, no matter the distance, the brain knows when it’s almost done. I have no idea how many days in a row I can run like this, but I know on this trip, my body knew when it was almost done. Later, I remember telling Jeanne that my legs felt like an old pair of underwear that have lost the elastic in the waistband. We found some really good seafood in Morro Bay, and made </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">our plan for the final day.</span> </div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjudWIrx8McWcmUVy6V8pUfVWDvAnzy02bPBi0ubi8-DXtgx1ZwXcxGsFGWrdveowr8SkhZ1to3PzqWeSct4znlHMs5RNyiKd-rT5gmXX87lxfE_ilDnnAiPsRexAtVGrYn2dlsasN4fII/s1600/IMG_9029.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjudWIrx8McWcmUVy6V8pUfVWDvAnzy02bPBi0ubi8-DXtgx1ZwXcxGsFGWrdveowr8SkhZ1to3PzqWeSct4znlHMs5RNyiKd-rT5gmXX87lxfE_ilDnnAiPsRexAtVGrYn2dlsasN4fII/s320/IMG_9029.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "arial";">Morro Bay</span></td></tr>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"><b> Day 8, Cayucos to San Luis Obispo</b></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">Mom and Jeanne headed back to San Luis Obispo to pick up Jewelia from the airport while I headed South toward the finish. Mile 9 was where the side roads ran out and I would be back on Hwy 1. I thought it would be difficult to get to the highway before they got back to me, but that was my goal. I ran passed a donut shop on my way through Morro Bay that smelled so amazing I craved an apple fritter for days after. I had just made it to the highway and was crossing the southbound side when I recognized the grey Subaru heading North. Jewelia was now with them and she was the one that had seen me crossing the highway. There were several people planning to be waiting for me at the finish. I had been pretty conservative with what my arrival time might be but I was pretty amped to get done and it was obvious I was going to get in well ahead of my projection. I told Jeanne I could slow down a little but if people could get there earlier, I’d really appreciate it. It all worked out perfect. There was a big crowd at the finish, everybody made it in time. As I made the last turn, I wasn’t exactly sure if I was supposed to turn left or right. I was just about to dig out my map when I saw my Mom and Jewelia running up the street to the left. I almost caught them. If I had any small regret on this last day it’s this. From the time I finished, until much later that day, I had a lot of people around me, all very proud of what I had accomplished. Usually at the end of journeys like this it’s just me and Jeanne and she knows exactly how to give me some unwind space. In retrospect, I wish I had sat down on a bus bench, 2 blocks from the finish and let the previous 250 miles properly sink in, before finishing. </span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhns7oPCndmmJoUEqCeO5-Qscfw745mvm0JZ7JRL7wLsYM7jR4XNj5SEpZ6S9NM6pD9eSNwhf7GBORhzeDIAEtKQL8oolsf3cax8AMdOr1XhHZnpgAzy3sb9V-IiRQMPMhIH2bfXRr89Fk/s1600/IMG_0261.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhns7oPCndmmJoUEqCeO5-Qscfw745mvm0JZ7JRL7wLsYM7jR4XNj5SEpZ6S9NM6pD9eSNwhf7GBORhzeDIAEtKQL8oolsf3cax8AMdOr1XhHZnpgAzy3sb9V-IiRQMPMhIH2bfXRr89Fk/s320/IMG_0261.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">1160 Marsh St. San Luis Obispo, CA</td></tr>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">I love how supportive so many people are of my running adventures. I can think of no better reason to attempt anything than this, I thought I could do it.</span><br />
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">Thank you to everybody that has encouraged me, followed me, run with me, listened to every weird idea or even just said nothing and let me go my own way.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">Thank you to Lynn, who in 10 years of coaching me has never once, in the middle of a workout, race or difficult run asked me how I feel. I understand now that when you are up against it, there are only two answers to that question, the truth and a lie...and neither are healthy.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">Thank you to my wonderful parents for allowing me to fall down, a lot. All those stitches in the head were so worth it.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">And most important, thank you to my beautiful wife Jeanne, whose amazing love for me defies common sense.</span></div>
Where Chris Runshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09554455211881718227noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4821478631014104872.post-1452191665568592482016-07-07T12:29:00.002-07:002016-07-07T12:29:52.053-07:00Once Around the World: The Plan<div dir="ltr" id="docs-internal-guid-a48b6f62-c6cf-5859-06b9-840138ce6030" style="line-height: 1.656; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"><span id="goog_19886747"></span><span id="goog_19886748"></span>13 years ago, I started a love affair with running. In the interest of accuracy, I didn’t really love it at first. But I was getting worse, every year, at all of the sports that I did love and running seemed like something I could get better at for a while.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">In August, I will have run 24,901 miles since I started keeping track of my running miles. 24,901 miles is the circumference of the earth at the equator, so I will have run Once Around the World. To commemorate this accomplishment, I’m doing a journey run that will start at the Golden Gate Bridge on July 29th and finish 270 miles later in San Luis Obispo, CA.</span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiY7XdfvIqlvfjdkN2ENPQNR1p04JJtBNPYsnPUflfJ8lj5MCg2s6jTudUcLdwbfMhM5I2GyAGQjRNn4NSz3CRvuOI2eW6IeUQGcVHvS2XSvvpq_0x3OenRZroiCkot0Fafl7Virt5NoWk/s1600/French+Hospital+Then.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiY7XdfvIqlvfjdkN2ENPQNR1p04JJtBNPYsnPUflfJ8lj5MCg2s6jTudUcLdwbfMhM5I2GyAGQjRNn4NSz3CRvuOI2eW6IeUQGcVHvS2XSvvpq_0x3OenRZroiCkot0Fafl7Virt5NoWk/s320/French+Hospital+Then.jpg" width="263" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">French Hospital as close to 1963 as I could find.</td></tr>
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<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.656; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">I was born in San Luis Obispo, California in 1963 at French Hospital. The hospital was originally the San Luis Sanitarium, foreshadowing be damned. 1160 Marsh Street was the address of French Hospital and that seems an appropriate place to finish mile 24,901.</span></div>
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<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.656; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">The days will roughly breakdown like this:</span></div>
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<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.656; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">Day 1. Golden Gate Bridge to Pacifica, 18 miles. I’ll start around noon and use this day as a warm up day. After this, each day will be between 35 and 38 miles per day.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">Day 2. Pacifica to Pigeon Point Hostel.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">Day 3. Pigeon Point to Santa Cruz.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">Day 4. Santa Cruz to Monterey</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">Day 5. Monterey to Big Sur.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">Day 6. Big Sur to Gorda</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">Day 7. Gorda to Harmony</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">Day 8. Harmony to San Luis Obispo</span></div>
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<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.656; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">I’ve decided to post daily updates to FB, but save a blog posting for when I am done.</span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.656; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">I’ve done a pretty thorough job of figuring out routes through towns, but if anybody with any local knowledge would like to share, I’m all ears. Also, if anybody living along the way would like to run part of it with me, let me know and we’ll see if we can coordinate it.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"></span>Where Chris Runshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09554455211881718227noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4821478631014104872.post-24854651606274395662016-04-13T15:30:00.000-07:002016-04-13T15:39:14.363-07:00It's the End of the World as We Know It<div dir="ltr" id="docs-internal-guid-5dde3382-117d-5fff-031e-25e44e569cde" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">It's the end of the world as we know it. REM </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">Not really….but it sure felt like that for a while. Another attempt at 100 miles in 24 hours has come up short. 30 miles short this time. I’m going to make the autopsy report brief, because I’d rather talk about the amazing people in my life and future plans. </span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCpGmSiiBQcSRN5yQpW4g-RYx3mnZuiIOQdjbS8mugDxN70uRBPal2Mdg67W6Xi5adH8JwkTpaqGSuLgUew2VtYf-4VJb3izZekgRz6E_FqAyGzaAbaM3EDQufcdHCiDcm7tdh3ADBrFg/s1600/pacrimbridge.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCpGmSiiBQcSRN5yQpW4g-RYx3mnZuiIOQdjbS8mugDxN70uRBPal2Mdg67W6Xi5adH8JwkTpaqGSuLgUew2VtYf-4VJb3izZekgRz6E_FqAyGzaAbaM3EDQufcdHCiDcm7tdh3ADBrFg/s320/pacrimbridge.JPG" width="213" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Perfect running weather.</td></tr>
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<div dir="ltr" id="docs-internal-guid-5dde3382-117d-5fff-031e-25e44e569cde" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"> </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">I ran Pacific Rim One Day on March 19th with a goal of at least 100 miles. I woke up feeling really good, which was a surprise as I’d been fighting off the flu for a week. Jeanne was so sick, she had to beg to be able to come along. She really is amazing. The first 20 miles felt really smooth and easy. I ran with Ken Ward for a few miles and then finally met Greg Pressler, in person, for the first time and we ran several miles together. Through 20 the only real trouble I was having was heavier breathing than usual. That can probably be attributed to the flu, it just felt like I was working a little harder to breathe than I should have. Around mile 22, Jeanne’s cousin Lori arrived. She is training for her first marathon, is a bundle of positive energy and I figured she would run about 10 miles with me. We talked and talked and talked and talked as the mile went by. I hit my first low spot around mile 34 and I remember it occurring to me that she was probably over 10 miles. I asked he how long she was planning to run and she said “26 miles”. I was pretty shocked. She figured a slow 26, in shifts, with me and the distance wouldn’t intimidate her on race day. Pretty brave. </span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKporRXprQn-_1Zz3nZ5DMRXmygs1m-knGh1Ln1ZGgiScSRJnx3KTlQmQdkDqbZmzEEqdiLhMtQV23RaciS-n2fgrLxWrlREBhVA_bZqjrgag4n8oLpOICp4fia6ysUkqJnNHFweeSzBk/s1600/Pacrimstart.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKporRXprQn-_1Zz3nZ5DMRXmygs1m-knGh1Ln1ZGgiScSRJnx3KTlQmQdkDqbZmzEEqdiLhMtQV23RaciS-n2fgrLxWrlREBhVA_bZqjrgag4n8oLpOICp4fia6ysUkqJnNHFweeSzBk/s320/Pacrimstart.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Early miles</td></tr>
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<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"> </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">Bo got there around mile 40, as I was starting to have some pain in the left ankle. This has been a problem spot for me, on and off, for several years. It flared back up on Dawn to Dusk in December and has really never completely gone away since. I really started to struggle and at mile 48 decided that if I couldn’t get the pain under control and get back to “normal” running I would have to consider pulling the plug. I sat down for the first time, drank some coke and took some ibuprofen. When I got back up I announced that I would walk a mile and then run a mile. If I couldn’t run a full mile normally, I drop at 50 miles. The ibuprofen worked, the mile wasn’t that bad so I continued on. By mile 54 it was back, and worse than before. I was limping noticeably, and aware that I was going to do some damage in other places if I kept going.</span></div>
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<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">Britt was due to arrive in about a half hour, so I made the decision to change into warmer clothes, take some more ibuprofen and try laying down for 20 minutes. I was stiff when I got up but the pain was once again tolerable. By mile 58 it was back and I knew I couldn’t just keep popping ibuprofen every 8 miles. It seemed all that was left was to pick a suitable jump off distance. I thought about 100k, but eventually decided that if I knew the end was in sight, I could tough it out to 70.</span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhe04Ot6rKM4U1q6w7QEF01cj3p-R-jlvuEWRLTCcnui6StSTHydR_RbgKmZoKP74yBn_udgm9hHMXzLJuc4HGSUoZ99DbkVIBah4af9ifIBd3pEsVs_ofl_OWTRXs5swKnwbuKq72illM/s1600/pacrimfive.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhe04Ot6rKM4U1q6w7QEF01cj3p-R-jlvuEWRLTCcnui6StSTHydR_RbgKmZoKP74yBn_udgm9hHMXzLJuc4HGSUoZ99DbkVIBah4af9ifIBd3pEsVs_ofl_OWTRXs5swKnwbuKq72illM/s320/pacrimfive.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">That's enough.</td></tr>
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<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"> </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">Lori got some good running in, about 19 miles, but didn’t get to run a second shift to get to 26. Bo and Britt got a lot of struggling miles. I’ve done a little bit of pacing duty with a struggling runner and I know it’s hard on the soul. I really wish I could have rewarded their efforts with a better performance. </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">Somewhere in the middle of the night I went passed 24,000 miles since I started running 13 years ago. Which leaves the next big milestone 24,901, Once Around the World.</span></div>
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<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">It’s been 3 weeks since Pacific Rim. My ankle is slowly getting better. I haven’t run more than 4 miles at a time and it’s all been pretty slow. I’m getting back into a routine for core and strength training which is really at the heart of ankle problems. I have a weak core and weak right hip that make the left leg do too much of the work. In the past, I’ve addressed this problem only long enough to get back to running and then ignored it. I am becoming painfully aware of the ravages of time, and the realization that this cross training can not be ignored for much longer. I truly hope to update, in a blog 6 months from now, how I’ve stuck with it and how much it has helped. For now, get healthy, get strong and get ready for Light at the End of the Tunnel Marathon in June and hope to be half as good at supporting Lori in her first marathon as she was for me at Pac Rim.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">*Update: Since it took me awhile to get pictures together, I’m now happy to update that I’ve been able to stretch my distance out a little and just this morning ran 6 miles at marathon pace with no discomfort…..onward.</span>Where Chris Runshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09554455211881718227noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4821478631014104872.post-16463165356848935482015-12-28T12:52:00.000-08:002015-12-28T12:52:33.406-08:00Dawn to Dusk 2015<div dir="ltr" id="docs-internal-guid-74d043cf-e9dd-f235-81ad-afaf835e17ce" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">I’m a little late writing up a report from Dawn to Dusk 2015. Maybe I still can’t believe how amazing the weather was. When you plan an event for the shortest day of the year, in Oregon, you expect bad weather. During the 4 years that I have been doing this, Oregon has not disappointed. And then, in the middle of the wettest December in recent history, one beautiful sunny day like a reverse oasis appears.</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_Y8zjd6U47xDKCsI0lKmaN-KX9DCklkquVo57hrE26NaSGfUFjKSFD5ie12y_JNg5HcCjvG00aLFzdmBRko_66tfiC-9uO5kCVbf9BiHDAs9nadXqUaFcCwfe0-GQW3SZcuihuDKYS3k/s1600/IMG_7621.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_Y8zjd6U47xDKCsI0lKmaN-KX9DCklkquVo57hrE26NaSGfUFjKSFD5ie12y_JNg5HcCjvG00aLFzdmBRko_66tfiC-9uO5kCVbf9BiHDAs9nadXqUaFcCwfe0-GQW3SZcuihuDKYS3k/s320/IMG_7621.jpeg" width="213" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #0000ee;"><span style="font-family: Arial;"><u>7:47<span style="color: #0000ee;"><u>, offi<span style="color: #0000ee;"><u>cial sunrise.</u></span></u></span> </u></span></span></td></tr>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"> 7:47 started with 4 runners, Kim, Bo, Eric and myself. Making our way through and out of Dallas, conversations wandered all over, occasionally interrupted with exclamations that the pace was way too fast. We talked about fast food marketing, community theater, homemade energy gels and of course, how perfect the weather was. Low 40’s, sunny and dry.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"></span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5CF8tdLF10OABmcz5ij7_gTOS5h2tJaV-OmsifmwE8s3CEVYxWiHgK0XOHUtW0nyFLmsBZC5MuOkBv0CU_5nImrms0yfJsMP2J9PCViVX2rE8mOyDlPeUzUgThAx8KWDNkKwEbk3Mp4w/s1600/IMAG0605.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5CF8tdLF10OABmcz5ij7_gTOS5h2tJaV-OmsifmwE8s3CEVYxWiHgK0XOHUtW0nyFLmsBZC5MuOkBv0CU_5nImrms0yfJsMP2J9PCViVX2rE8mOyDlPeUzUgThAx8KWDNkKwEbk3Mp4w/s320/IMAG0605.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #0000ee;"><span style="font-family: Arial;"><u>Mile 11.5, arriving in Independence</u></span></span></td></tr>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">Mile 11.5 brought us into Independence, where we met up with Jerry and Julie. They had brought drop bags for me, Kim and Bo. Well, they brought a drop bag for me and Kim. Bo packed a little more that would could be described as a bag. The upside to Bo’s enthusiastic planning was we all knew that none of us were going hungry! Eric got picked up about a mile later and the five of us headed toward the Buena Vista Ferry.</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxV6IXKkx0ZVHo3aP3EmYF42V-GqxdNkxwLxznso7-tFRW5VKg1sFttWDoe0Uf2ZK9SQE5hrkkRYVAX0BsauzpJO6pfBVwdITfv4asl9mJOUoa0uKqpmpLqzCEJw5IVEAV2FnCRlk0UlY/s1600/IMAG0606.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxV6IXKkx0ZVHo3aP3EmYF42V-GqxdNkxwLxznso7-tFRW5VKg1sFttWDoe0Uf2ZK9SQE5hrkkRYVAX0BsauzpJO6pfBVwdITfv4asl9mJOUoa0uKqpmpLqzCEJw5IVEAV2FnCRlk0UlY/s320/IMAG0606.jpg" width="213" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Well, we aren't going that way.</td></tr>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">In the days leading up to Dawn to Dusk, Bo and I had discussed the possibility of roads being flooded out, so I had it in my mind that routes might need to be altered and, sure enough, the road out to the ferry was completely flooded. We changed our route to the much hillier Old Corvallis Hwy, eventually turning around at a statue of a Sasquatch. When I viewed our route on a map, I also learned that the house with the Sasquatch in front of it is also a coffee shop called Buddha2go. I love Oregon. We had been straight into a pretty chilly 10 to 15 MPH wind on the way out and it was nice to have that wind at our back heading back toward Independence.</span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVcKP8OojtKSUZIxmcEQiWxdU0wTqt9BE-s2dtfcrIgpq2zKdKjFRVrSyI8cim9CTvdVNPUv-MdpJcbwyuxMgf8EjPVY-mAwSghnVMQx6ona2P2-FuRB49VYiV-IXtIDETsUbVFAw8e0g/s1600/IMAG0608.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVcKP8OojtKSUZIxmcEQiWxdU0wTqt9BE-s2dtfcrIgpq2zKdKjFRVrSyI8cim9CTvdVNPUv-MdpJcbwyuxMgf8EjPVY-mAwSghnVMQx6ona2P2-FuRB49VYiV-IXtIDETsUbVFAw8e0g/s320/IMAG0608.jpg" width="213" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sasquatch Refuge</td></tr>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">Independence was the end of the road for Kim and Bo (28.5 miles) and Jerry and Julie (17 ish miles) and meant I had 6 miles on my own before anybody else was to join me. I ate some mixed nuts and took a few drinks of Coke, refilled my bottle with Infinit, made a bathroom stop and then, I was all by myself. Looking West, the direction I was headed, the gorgeous weather was coming to an end. Dark clouds were in front of me and I hit my only low moment of the day. I usually have a little dip in attitude right after eating. I’ve been working on this for years, but it still persists. I was cold, 29 miles tired and it was starting to rain. I called Jeanne and asked her to send a rain shell along with Mindy and Betsy, who would be joining me at mile 34. Still I had 5 wet, cold miles to get to that point. </span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_HX0ix71m6j9NXVAAsacSIgLaT3ZI491cqZpMBuBm_rlh8SYaEmxDnlhyphenhyphenDtjvDn7idCbJ9BqXdFD5eUZr4e6FLLHeVLVX9X7YKzdKiY2d9urf7D86OLANrG1bBJibDSUdqZY8ubhK6jo/s1600/IMG_8665.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_HX0ix71m6j9NXVAAsacSIgLaT3ZI491cqZpMBuBm_rlh8SYaEmxDnlhyphenhyphenDtjvDn7idCbJ9BqXdFD5eUZr4e6FLLHeVLVX9X7YKzdKiY2d9urf7D86OLANrG1bBJibDSUdqZY8ubhK6jo/s320/IMG_8665.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A sign of better miles ahead.</td></tr>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"> Shuffling along and feeling sorry for myself around mile 32, I looked up and there were Mindy and Betsy pulled over on the side of the road and Mindy was jumping out with my jacket. I faked good spirits, said I was glad to see them, which I was, and put on the jacket. I told them I’d see them in a few miles and they were off. I probably didn’t run for more than a few minutes with the jacket on before the sun came out, introducing an amazing rainbow and suddenly, I was fine. The jacket came off, my mood was better and I felt really good from that point to the end of the day.</span><br />
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">Mindy and Betsy were waiting for me at my mile 34. Jeanne was hanging out with, an almost walking Lucas, so that Mindy could run the last 6 in with me. I had planned a 40 mile route, and made provisions for bonus miles in case we finished early. In my rough draft of the day, I had hoped to hit 40 miles at 4:00 PM and then make a decision about what to do with the remaining 33 minutes. We hit 40 miles at 3:58. Had I planned a 43 mile route, I’m certain I could have made 43, maybe even 44, but cold and wet and with a warm house, good friends and a hot pot of chili on the stove, I decided 40 miles was enough and opted for a hot shower. </span></div>
Where Chris Runshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09554455211881718227noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4821478631014104872.post-28612348432391996792015-11-04T15:19:00.004-08:002015-11-04T15:19:55.732-08:00Columbia Gorge Marathon 2015<div dir="ltr" id="docs-internal-guid-124a845b-d4c7-3831-bd3c-19ad71aff4da" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">The Columbia Gorge marathon was, easily, my best race in years. Some of the things that contributed to that were obvious. A few others, were not so obvious, but really have me thinking. </span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjK1JsILMcfJ7OgCsjyfbc97euO2_JNaHA1BGdxgS9ZNLaB2VKci5mUqKz6JBhyt287zKLH7huE6UvbT6L50sbo2D7nqxWh_m-FOQn4PMwjfp565utYg94BpyJSClmpzVTSeBSjbFzK6QY/s1600/columbia+gorge+highway.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjK1JsILMcfJ7OgCsjyfbc97euO2_JNaHA1BGdxgS9ZNLaB2VKci5mUqKz6JBhyt287zKLH7huE6UvbT6L50sbo2D7nqxWh_m-FOQn4PMwjfp565utYg94BpyJSClmpzVTSeBSjbFzK6QY/s320/columbia+gorge+highway.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I didn't carry a camera through the race, this was taken a few years ago.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaqhhV0jmbtaNpMf_QqeAlRmKti_A1X_eYrpcN0vMgN3YxDxr9ZFnRuPn1abY4ZVoKAJnjSlxk48PJZGdiKEw6BVdZP8pLI8VNpxAnFlbbwCUfyQBsW5lm8WslYILKCfI5kODRd9o4S1k/s1600/ATT00153.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaqhhV0jmbtaNpMf_QqeAlRmKti_A1X_eYrpcN0vMgN3YxDxr9ZFnRuPn1abY4ZVoKAJnjSlxk48PJZGdiKEw6BVdZP8pLI8VNpxAnFlbbwCUfyQBsW5lm8WslYILKCfI5kODRd9o4S1k/s320/ATT00153.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">As was this.</td></tr>
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<div dir="ltr" id="docs-internal-guid-124a845b-d4c7-3831-bd3c-19ad71aff4da" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"> </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">It would be easy to say that the big difference in this race from all others was that I ran it with no watch. Probably the most important factor, though, was that I was in much better condition for this race than I have been in years. My training went really well, I was about 6 pounds lighter than I have been for most recent races. I’ve always thought about running without a watch, and the fact that this course was all either uphill or downhill made it the perfect candidate to try it. I realized that I spend a lot of mental time and energy either in the past or in the future. I’m always calculating what my pace has been, what it should be, what it needs to be now, what it will need to be for the next x number of miles etc. I had none of that on Sunday. I’ve never felt more “in each mile”. Mile 5 to mile 11 was almost all uphill. There were a few times that I found myself thinking, “2 miles to the top….less than 20 more minutes then you get some downhill”. But it wasn’t an amount of time that had any countdown to it, just an observation. I’d love to think that I could run with a watch and just use it for feedback. Maybe that’s the goal. </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">I don’t eat before races, period. I’ve had conversations with so many runners about this that can’t believe someone can run a marathon without eating breakfast and a handful of gels during the race. Well, in my 3 years away from marathons I have to say, some things have changed. I couldn’t believe how much “gear” so many runners were carrying for a marathon. It wouldn’t be fair to say I negative split this race. I did, but the second half has more downhill and less uphill than the first. Still, this was my entire consumption. Coffee at 6:30 when I woke up. 2 cups of water in the 20 minutes before the start at 9:00. 1 cup of water at mile 11. 1 cup of water at mile 17. 3 Ibuprofen and a mouthful of water at mile 19. A cup of water and a cup of gatorade mixed together but not completely finished at mile 20. If you regularly have GI issues during races, I would strongly consider NOT eating.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">My, in chunks, breakdown of the race goes something like this. The first 5 miles, I really tried to just enjoy. The views from the Old Columbia Hwy are just amazing. If you’ve never been on this 5 mile stretch from Hood River to Mosier, I can’t recommend it enough. It’s completely closed to vehicle traffic, beautifully smooth asphalt and absolutely gorgeous. As we made our way through the Mosier Tunnels and dropped down into Mosier, I knew I would see Jeanne for the first time. The weather forecast indicated that it might start raining during the race, so she had some alternative hats and shirts if I needed them. As I ran through Mosier, I did a quick inventory, realized that everything I was wearing was exactly what I wanted. According to Jeanne, I ran passed her and pointed from my head to my feet and said, “I’m perfect!”.</span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWxsIRw5wt9JttnhPMmBQFaZxpMguB0uLTvUAI6qx7HhVoAj9IRUV47ZvTD7l87vKme7LQh77oT5_TLN0ZsgVgESmLQhpMdmZGpQ-o8yMlez1w163Q41oHhcIWvsUk9lZcSuN44Cf8v58/s1600/photo%252828%2529.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWxsIRw5wt9JttnhPMmBQFaZxpMguB0uLTvUAI6qx7HhVoAj9IRUV47ZvTD7l87vKme7LQh77oT5_TLN0ZsgVgESmLQhpMdmZGpQ-o8yMlez1w163Q41oHhcIWvsUk9lZcSuN44Cf8v58/s320/photo%252828%2529.JPG" width="203" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">When I was "perfect".</td></tr>
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<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"> </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">My goal for THE HILL was just to stay steady. I’ve run it once before, though I couldn’t remember very much about it. It’s 6 mile of up and it’s too early in the race to get aggressive. By mile 5, everybody has settled into a pace and a place, and I just tried to make sure I wasn’t getting passed and stay under control. I had hoped to be able to count places, since it’s an out and back course but the race allowed for a one hour early start to accommodate slower runners. This early start was used by many people that should not have and it made counting places impossible.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">I saw Lynn at the turn around, a car drove by and said something, all I heard was “cowboy”, and there he was. Later, as he drove by me again he said something about where we were running used to be called Hog Canyon, but they changed it. I really don’t listen very well when I’m running. </span></div>
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<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">6 miles of downhill was bliss but by the bottom I was starting to feel my quads. I had one more uphill and then the last 5 miles downhill to the finish. I’ve had good results with strategic use of Ibuprofen in the past, and I had asked Jeanne to have some ready for me at the bottom of the hill in case I wanted it. We weren’t crystal clear in our communication about this the night before and I did want ibuprofen and she didn’t have any ready for me. As I have stated before, she is amazing at taking care of me when I am running, and this was a very understandable mis communication. I think I’m a pretty easy going guy, but my kids and co workers have both told me that I have a “look” when I’m not pleased with something that I have heard described as my “are you fucking stupid” look. I was 20 steps passed Jeanne and realized I had probably just given that look and instantly felt awful. I almost ran back to her to apologize, but instead stopped, stepped off the road and yelled back to her a “thank you”, that really didn’t make me feel any better. I was starting up the hill to the trailhead, feeling bad because I’d been rude, knowing I had one more hill in front of me and realizing that the rain was going to start any minute. Suddenly, there was Jeanne on the side of the road. She’d dashed into a market, bought some ibuprofen and a bottle of water and driven a mile to get ahead of me just in time. Now I could truly apologize, wash down some ibuprofen and get to the hill.</span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgO9eCykNek0jPfFECklmLPp5bHsukiKvvKnZIbWdJyGPG-_ExJekBQFRbeCm6OuOWPsIwZ8_LcuaIfe7RXvzV1zGA3kjju8rr3RIRiRxCki4RUVT92lOlXG0GKdB3vMC0hCrA6AE_dMaI/s1600/photo%252832%2529.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgO9eCykNek0jPfFECklmLPp5bHsukiKvvKnZIbWdJyGPG-_ExJekBQFRbeCm6OuOWPsIwZ8_LcuaIfe7RXvzV1zGA3kjju8rr3RIRiRxCki4RUVT92lOlXG0GKdB3vMC0hCrA6AE_dMaI/s320/photo%252832%2529.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My best second half of a marathon ever.</td></tr>
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<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"> My only real funk of the day came around mile 20. The little bit of Gatorade made me a little nauseous and the rain had started….and I was on the last uphill of the day. I could sense I was slowing, but that sensation was hard to gauge since I was passing early starters and half marathoners. Usually, somebody passing me, is my wake up call that I’ve slowed down. I remember looking back and not seeing another runner close to me, turning back back around and in almost no time, I was being passed. I thought, “wow, they came up on me quick” and decided to go with them no matter what. They turned out to be a father, in his 50’s and son, age 19. The son was running his first ever marathon. I had told myself that under no circumstance was I to ask somebody the time, before mile 20. Well, it was after mile 20. I was now comfortably tucked in behind them and running much faster, so I asked, “do either of you have the clock time?” The son said, “just a little over 3 hours”. I thought on this for a minute and almost wished, now, that I hadn’t asked. Because now I had to ask, “not to be a jerk but does a little over 3 hours mean 3:02 or 3:07?”. The dad now helped me out, we were just about to the 21 mile mark and he said “we will be right at 3:05 at mile 21”. I had a goal time of mid 3:40s and realized that I was going to be closer to 3:50 if I didn’t find another gear, and that meant leaving the comfort of drafting behind those 2 and really attacking the downhill to the finish.</span></div>
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">And that’s exactly what I did. I ran the last 5.2 in 40 minutes flat. My quads have paid for it, I’m still hobbling a little 4 days after, but it was totally worth it.</span>Where Chris Runshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09554455211881718227noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4821478631014104872.post-21916537683943341932015-06-09T15:27:00.002-07:002015-06-09T15:27:36.575-07:00Running Around the World - McKenzie Pass and the Back Pack<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2HbWAtmkj1ZBZ57xjzorg8UWSmrljVefzRFeGFoNT2MLIwpYMrFOXzBMF_utn3BNOTBSjcZE_bvVIFEvd0hVk3QtA5z2y-clXEAAMVJ9VVvfjxPOzZdX8gTQHNiWo5SjjGheXg_yiDu8/s1600/IMG_8403.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2HbWAtmkj1ZBZ57xjzorg8UWSmrljVefzRFeGFoNT2MLIwpYMrFOXzBMF_utn3BNOTBSjcZE_bvVIFEvd0hVk3QtA5z2y-clXEAAMVJ9VVvfjxPOzZdX8gTQHNiWo5SjjGheXg_yiDu8/s320/IMG_8403.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sisters as seen from Mckenzie Pass</td></tr>
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<div dir="ltr" id="docs-internal-guid-9f304fd7-da6a-3747-01ce-9e6b421ac253" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"> Earlier this year, I learned something that I can’t believe I didn’t know until now. The Old McKenzie Highway, between Sisters and the McKenzie River, closes to car traffic every winter. In normal years, there are a few weeks in June, where the road is plowed but still not open to car traffic. I’ve seen pictures of cyclists on the road surrounded by 40 foot high walls of snow and ice. From the minute I was aware of this, it became a must run. An invitation went out to several runners to join in, but in the end, it was just Bo Camero and me, and no snow, at all.</span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsZlCmgErjn_NRR_nLnVLUr5TVT8APZeuXV1WPt9LNndA2JPf7F5JCgAR0OA7JJX85ZhS6udhK1SItgIgQqzGp8_dWa_mx1uKQNynIj72u1pi3kjtq1AdXFA7rond9bTqqEtQZEnMAth0/s1600/IMG_8400.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsZlCmgErjn_NRR_nLnVLUr5TVT8APZeuXV1WPt9LNndA2JPf7F5JCgAR0OA7JJX85ZhS6udhK1SItgIgQqzGp8_dWa_mx1uKQNynIj72u1pi3kjtq1AdXFA7rond9bTqqEtQZEnMAth0/s320/IMG_8400.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Bo, and the Dee Wright Observatory</td></tr>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"> </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">With temperatures predicted in the 90s we considered getting a really early start, but the drive was already 2.5 hours to get to the east snow gate outside of Sisters so we got some extra sleep and decide to just deal with the heat. It was hot, especially going through the lava fields, yes lava fields. That feels a lot more bad ass to say than it really is, but there is no shade, for about 9 miles. It was a tough run. The elevation, heat, distance and having my new Ultimate Direction pack at an overfilled 6 pounds, trying to get used to it, made it pretty challenging.</span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">View from the top of Dee Wright.</td></tr>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">There were easily 100+ cyclists on the road, we were the only runners. This resulted in a lot of words of encouragement, a few strange looks, a few jokes about where our bikes broke down and the most humbling experience of the day.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">We were about 10 to 12 miles from the east gate, already over the summit and still 10 ish miles from the west gate. We received numerous compliments all day but in pretty short succession, 3 things happened. First, a large group of cyclist came around a corner, they were going slightly up, we were going slightly down and at a pretty good clip. As the group rounded the corner the wave of astonishment was audible as it went though the group "Wow.....wow.....oh wow.....wow". They went by with waves and encouragement. A few minutes later a young, very fit looking couple were really moving up the hill and as we passed the female, looking toward us said...."there are the real bad asses". Just as our heads were about to swell out of our hats, we took a quick walk break to get some food out of our packs and eat. As we were walking and eating, a woman rode passed going the same direction as us on a bike, how shall I say, not as well equipped for the ride as others. As she passed she looked at us and with the sweetest, best intentioned old hippie encouragement said "way to go walkers".</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">Brought back down to earth, we worked our way down to the west Snow gate and met up with Jeanne who had dropped us off in Sisters and the drove around to crew us on the other side. As people tell me all the time, yes, I know, she is a saint. Also a bit a of a mind reader. We were on a pretty steep downhill, both of us were feeling it in the hips and maybe Bo’s mind thought his body needed the distraction, because out of nowhere he said, “Man, Red Vines sound good right now” Bo, is super healthy, vegan, so this seemed a little strange. I said, “What?” and he replied “I don’t know, I could just taste Red Vines there for a minute…..and they’re vegan”. I told him that was Jeanne’s favorite road trip snack, and we didn’t speak of it again. When we met up with Jeanne and the car, we ditched our packs, and sat down for a few minutes and refilled our bottles. I told Jeanne about Bo’s Red Vine hallucination and she pulls a package of them from the front seat. He was pretty happy about that.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">The Ultimate Direction pack is working pretty well. I’ve got 86 miles on it so far. My ‘round about’ goal is to get around 500 miles with it before the run down the California Coast next summer to complete my Run Around the World. As of today, I’m 2,304 miles from starting at the Golden Gate Bridge. On my virtual map, I’m about halfway between Cleveland and Chicago. Right now, it’s looking like a late July, early August 2016 run. </span></div>
<br /><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">The next big adventure is running the Barrel to Keg Relay (69 miles) solo. Rumor has it, there are “several” runners signed up to run it solo, so that should be a lot of fun. We get a 2 hour head start on the relay, so I’m thinking we won’t get caught until after mile 30. Having just run in the 90’s for the first time this year, I’m hoping to get a few more long runs in heat before Barrel to Keg, then really hoping for a day in the 70’s on race day.</span>Where Chris Runshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09554455211881718227noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4821478631014104872.post-71749553408736890702015-04-03T15:06:00.002-07:002015-04-03T15:06:31.705-07:00Running Around the World - The Americas<br />
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">As I was starting to approach 20,000 running miles it started dawning on me that 24,901 was looming on the horizon. Once around the world. Since it will have taken me 13 years to do it once, I will probably need to be able to run through to my 70s to do it again. So, I’m thinking I should make this one count.</span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">That Makes Sense</td></tr>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">I was born in San Luis Obispo, California in 1963 at French Hospital. The hospital was originally the San Luis Sanitarium, it’s since been torn down and a real estate office stands in it’s place. You may feel free to draw as many conclusions as you like. 1180 Marsh Street, San Luis Obispo, California was the address of French Hospital and that seems an appropriate place to finish mile 24,901.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">Sometime in the Summer of 2016, right now it’s looking like early August, I will coordinate a run that will start at the Golden Gate Bridge in San Francisco and finish 268 miles later at 1180 Marsh Street.</span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Arial;">Milesburg, PA</span></td></tr>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"> As of this writing, I am 2,686 miles from starting that journey. This means that had this virtual run actually have been a true run around the world (walking on water notwithstanding), and had I started out headed west, I would be in the continental US. I imagine I would have chosen I80 as a route and so, I would have just passed Milesburg, Pennsylvania.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">Next update, including info about the route, when I get to virtual Cleveland, Ohio, 224 miles away.</span>Where Chris Runshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09554455211881718227noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4821478631014104872.post-71437459848139120192015-03-25T15:29:00.000-07:002015-03-25T15:29:09.225-07:00I'll Try Again: Pacific Rim One Day 2015<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">At some point, everything is a duck in a tree.</td></tr>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"> I made another attempt at 100 miles in under 24 hours, at Pacific Rim One Day on Saturday March 21, 2015. I failed. I'm really fine with that word, failing. I have an unfinished play that I started writing, in my early 20's, called Never Really Touching. I finished a few others, while I kept working on Touching. People I knew, in theater at the time, used to jokingly call it Never Really Finished. At some point I wrote this, about the process:</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">"There is nothing in my life that I view in absolutes. No answers to questions, there is no place to stand. I never feel like “now I know”, or that I finally understand. My life’s work is titled Never Really Touching, not as some romanticized play on words that someday I’ll really touch, but because that is truly how I view life."</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">I made it to 87 miles. I know that is something to proud of, but it wasn’t the goal. People that do endurance sports frequently say that they enjoy finding out what they are capable of. I don't think we ever really find that out. What we can find out, if we try hard enough, is what we are not capable of. I have spent considerable time in the last 4 days, again, thinking of new ways to address the eating while running problem. If I was never going to try again, I probably wouldn't bother.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">I spent the first 20 miles mostly trying to slow myself down. I wanted to be around 10 minutes per mile but was much closer to 9. I would slow down as I started lapping runners and talk with them for a while, there are a lot of interesting people in this world, and some not. I thought about where crows nest, and why we never see them. Getting close to mile 30, I went through my first bad patch, nothing really wrong just lethargic, almost sleepy, I've been here before and I know how to do this. My plan was all liquid nutrition until my body asked for real food, I wasn't going to force feed myself. My Infinit drink is 220 calories plus electrolytes in 20 ounces. In a perfect world that's 20 ounces per hour, but I can never seem to keep on that and always fall behind. At mile 30 I ate a granola bar and at mile 36 some Coke. That worked, I started feeling better and ran really well from mile 40 to 50. My plan had been to get through 50 in 10 hours and I was around 9:57. At mile 50 I sat down for the first time. Drank some water, got a new bottle and made my first and biggest mistake. During an event like Hood to Coast, I pretty much live on liquid carbs (the same drink) dried nuts and grilled chicken. I wanted to have a variety of real foods available, and I brought grilled chicken to Pac Rim. I've never eaten grilled chicken and then run right after, but at mile 50 I ate a handful of chicken pieces. Mile 50 through 65 were a nightmare. I'm not sure how much else can be quantified from that point to the end. I made it through the night, walking the razors of bonking and puking. A pattern of eat and drink a small amount, lay on my back for about 20 minutes, walk a mile or two could get me back to slow running/walking for a few hours. And then repeat that pattern again and again. </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">Nothing else went wrong. Weather, for the most part, was ok. My legs held up pretty well. I found some blisters when I finally looked at my feet, but I wouldn't have known they were there otherwise. Some chaffing issues that hurt like hell after, but weren't much of an issue at the time. I'm inclined to blame chicken, or myself for breaking a cardinal rule of trying something in a race that hasn't been practiced. But I also know this could have happened no matter what I ate at that point, it just happened to be chicken.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">So, I'll try this 100 in one day thing again, not til next year though. I need 2 simple foods that I can practice with all the time. And, I need to practice with them, all the time, not just 3 times a year. It's going to be Justin’s Almond Butter (which comes in single serving packets like gels) and Fritos, and nothing else. I'll keep using the Infinit drink, as I've had no real problems with it.....but I'm also going to start also using diluted apple juice. Apple juice and fritos is pretty much the equivalent of my drink and I can find it anywhere, even gas station convenience stores, which I 'll eventually need for my solo California Coast run anyway. I'll start using the almond butter on every run longer than 10 miles, which means I'll have a bunch of experience with it before I try again. I'm going to have to train my stomach to be able to do this and trying something 3 times isn't practice enough.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">I saved the best part of the weekend for last. Some very dear friends travelled in for the weekend to support me, encourage me, run with me. In some ways, it made the “failure” that much harder, but more importantly, it made me want to be a better friend. Jerry and Julie Mullins took 3 different “shifts” with me. I know they totaled 19 miles for the weekend. Steve and Kellie Schellenberg ran the 10, post chicken, miles with me, which must have been horrible. Then they took Jeanne out to dinner, which really did make me feel better. Britt Sexton was with me til the wee est hours of the morning, and left me with Korean BBQ Pork Jerky, that didn’t taste so good at the time, but was AMAZING after. I think I get pretty self centered on my own goals and ambitions sometimes and don’t take enough time to really support and encourage others. I was really moved by these great friends this weekend and will remember it always. </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">Jeanne is, simply amazing. Other runners, on the course, before talking about anything else, would tell me how amazing she is. And they only see a fraction of it. I’ve got some fun run Summer plans. I’d really like to run the Old McKenzie Highway before it reopens to car traffic if it can be worked out. I won’t do anything big race ish until Fall. And, next year, sometime, I’ll try again.</span></div>
<br /><br /><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"> </span>Where Chris Runshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09554455211881718227noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4821478631014104872.post-62136054341826694692014-11-14T10:59:00.001-08:002014-11-14T10:59:46.908-08:00Tight Knit Running<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaHu-yxpVpr_moCfChULOEW8UWJ6Jz0pHOGWjmhbezh5KDVNTQsuGwF68infIpr5KgrBikx4TlmLwVlBZQaAzhVlaFxv6dWSSY6W-KJzYcR_bp8vbQju1rW-YRQCSdFLzQXGlet087w6E/s1600/IMG_3999.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaHu-yxpVpr_moCfChULOEW8UWJ6Jz0pHOGWjmhbezh5KDVNTQsuGwF68infIpr5KgrBikx4TlmLwVlBZQaAzhVlaFxv6dWSSY6W-KJzYcR_bp8vbQju1rW-YRQCSdFLzQXGlet087w6E/s1600/IMG_3999.jpeg" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">My dear friend, Steve, died last year. Steve was a hockey player. He loved jazz and among his many eccentricities, he could knit. And not just simple stuff, he could knit sweaters, with hoods. Steve had just started to run before he got sick. He ran his first 10k and we were making plans to run a half marathon together, but sadly, that never happened. For the 20+ years that I knew Steve I always thought that, someday, I’d like to learn to knit. </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">A month ago, I started learning to knit. It’s an odd hobby for someone with a short attention span, but then, so is distance running. It’s very similar to distance running, in that you do a lot of the same thing for a long time. You also spend the quality time in your head that only repetitive motion seems to encourage.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">Given these similarities, I guess last nights dream was inevitable. Maybe 20 or 30 people were gathering at a house. Shack might be too harsh a description, but you wouldn’t let your child rent it. These were runners, you could tell by looking at them and you could tell by all of their night before a race rituals and peculiarities. The one ritual that seemed perfectly normal, in the dream, was the attention to knitting. There was a woman that was seemingly famous for the fact that she knits, while she runs. She had brought gifts for several of the people that seemed to know her well, hats and scarves and such.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">The dream morphed into the race…..a road race. It really had the feel of a multi day stage race, there was a greater willingness for groups to stick together for longer periods of time than you might find in a one day race. It was very hilly, the roads were narrow and poorly maintained and the cars that were on them drove with a seemingly premeditated anarchy like in Venezuela……. or Arkansas. The knitting lady, was exactly that. She knitted and ran. Nobody seemed to think it was dangerous, or even strange. She ran in our small group for a while, but eventually that group stretched out and she ended up behind me. I couldn’t really tell, in a dream, how fast I was running, but it felt good to finish when the leaders were still hanging around the finish. The finish line was in a littered alley way. Dumpsters turned on their side and broken pallets everywhere, pretty technical. The knitting lady finished a little after I did, I couldn’t tell if her decision to stop knitting and just run was part of her kick, or if it was just necessary given the terrain.</span></div>
<br /><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">I’m about a third of the way done with the scarf I’m working on. I’m already dividing knitting into thirds in my head the way I seem to divide everything, including miles. I realized a few years ago that I have a real aversion to the concept of half way, and rarely ever divide things into halves and quarters, but instead, always thirds. People often ask me what I think about when I’m running “for so long”. My standard answer has always been, “the same things I think about when I’m not running”. But, for a while, I may change that to “the same things I think about when I’m knitting”. Like, are small square plates still called saucers…..and my friend Steve.</span>Where Chris Runshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09554455211881718227noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4821478631014104872.post-19781004780941831852014-10-15T15:02:00.000-07:002014-10-15T15:02:07.286-07:00Dawn to Dusk 2014<div dir="ltr" id="docs-internal-guid-3898343d-15d2-3122-7a8e-bad753c1c50c" style="line-height: 1.15; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">The objective is to run as many daylight miles as possible on the shortest day of the year, Dec 20th 2014.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">Sunrise will be at 7:47 am, sunset will be at 4:34 pm. This leaves a total of 8 hours and 47 minutes of daylight. My goal for this is always 45 miles. This year, I’m going to run a series of concentric loops starting and finishing at my house in Dallas, OR.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">If you would like to run all or part of it, let me know. There will be a warm house, a place to stash food/drink etc and I’ll probably put a giant pot of chili on to cook all day if you’re still around for sunset. I can pretty accurately estimate the start of the first 3 loops, so let me know what you want to run and I can let you know about when to be at the house.</span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh64UVL2rrWyeonjDr5BQaXMJmMIBYUgMccwk1Xi-BFWlGwkR_DOpWj1ea1Q7BoDZXSJiMy8z5SQS6qIppInftEDJmVKzz53OHAzVCgmtWgPSh_as0scO4OVUAkfFNHsp8vcNwI7FqVx0c/s1600/bslough.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh64UVL2rrWyeonjDr5BQaXMJmMIBYUgMccwk1Xi-BFWlGwkR_DOpWj1ea1Q7BoDZXSJiMy8z5SQS6qIppInftEDJmVKzz53OHAzVCgmtWgPSh_as0scO4OVUAkfFNHsp8vcNwI7FqVx0c/s1600/bslough.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">View from the Baskett Butte</td></tr>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">Loop 1, 18.7 miles, will head out Kings Valley Highway, cross 22 hwy and head in to the Baskett Slough National Wildlife Refuge. Even though Jeanne and I have seen a cougar here, this isn’t nearly as “wild” as it sounds. We do have a good chance of seeing some deer, heron, nutria, osprey, maybe bald eagles and if we’re really lucky a ground carp. Exiting the Baskett Slough area we will cross over 99 hwy down Farmer road, turning right on Greenwood road, cross 22 hwy again then turn right on Rickreall road. We’ll follow Rickreall road to Ellendale and back in to Dallas to the house. Loop 1 has a bathroom at the Baskett Butte trailhead at about mile 4. There is a store with bathrooms in Rickreall at about mile 14, if you don’t mind feeling like you are stealing family treasures by using their bathroom. 6 miles of Loop 1 are on gravel roads the rest are on asphalt.</span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYm9CTSr5tD1MeMggEOLvAYYBcByMpxXcnmxqL6bwFWxZa2nkjMDKmGUVaUFqDImMDZBKDd7mBJYL6sl8Yyin4Urge_eC3p6sLahhyoNog5960x9gMU5_ASClEEHlKLDUvqltji1wAy58/s1600/carp.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYm9CTSr5tD1MeMggEOLvAYYBcByMpxXcnmxqL6bwFWxZa2nkjMDKmGUVaUFqDImMDZBKDd7mBJYL6sl8Yyin4Urge_eC3p6sLahhyoNog5960x9gMU5_ASClEEHlKLDUvqltji1wAy58/s1600/carp.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Baskett Slough Wildlife</td></tr>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"> </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">Loop 2, 12.8 miles, starts out the same as Loop 1 but as we exit the Baskett Slough (mile 6) we will turn right on Hwy 99 for 2 miles to Rickreall. People sometimes get freaked out about running on Hwy 99, it’s fine. The shoulder is very wide for this entire section. Once in Rickreall the route back to the house is the same as Loop 1. The same bathrooms as Loop 1 are now at mile 4 and mile 8. 3 miles on gravel the rest on asphalt.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">This would be a good time to mention that loops 1 and 2 combined equal 31.5…...just a touch over 50k for anyone wanting to make sure they hit ultra distance.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">Loop 3, 7.8 miles, will head east on Ellendale, turn right at Bowersville road, right again on Miller road and come back via La Creole road to Ellendale. There are several bathrooms on Ellendale on the way out and bathrooms at the Aquatic Center at mile 6. 1 mile on gravel the rest on asphalt. Total 39.3</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">Loop 4, 4.6, is my standard 5 mile run course with a small shortcut. We head out Kings Valley Hwy for 2 miles, turn right at the Forestry Station on Oak Villa road, then right on Ellendale and back to the house. 1 mile of gravel, the rest asphalt. Total 43.9</span></div>
<br /><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">This will hopefully be my minimum mileage. I have a 2.9 mile loop, a 1.1 mile loop and a .6 mile loop depending on how much time we still have left. </span>Where Chris Runshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09554455211881718227noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4821478631014104872.post-69186072622749692342014-08-13T14:26:00.000-07:002014-08-13T14:26:45.455-07:00My Crew, My Wife<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQrvlKz7i2EObIGuEthJh3CTnouwRe1bqIyZFXM5F5HFRz7oZd-21w0wdhyphenhyphenFK3ZKBBJ92BdrfK0Xijv95lCEBdavXKjmP6bAEGwp0L7TBtO2lpb6qKnbgfcfOIhTRRlbwdJ1GNb0IFv8s/s1600/Chris+and+Jeanne+92+of+113cc.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQrvlKz7i2EObIGuEthJh3CTnouwRe1bqIyZFXM5F5HFRz7oZd-21w0wdhyphenhyphenFK3ZKBBJ92BdrfK0Xijv95lCEBdavXKjmP6bAEGwp0L7TBtO2lpb6qKnbgfcfOIhTRRlbwdJ1GNb0IFv8s/s1600/Chris+and+Jeanne+92+of+113cc.jpg" height="320" width="213" /></a></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">She has seen me run on days when my very fastest seemed effortless, and she has checked me in to the hospital when it wasn’t so effortless. She has seen me fit, tan and drenched in sweat and sunlight and she has seen me shit my shorts. She has implored me to keep going when all I wanted to do was quit and she has, on rare occasions, insisted that I quit when I was too stupid to make that decision myself.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">There are times I’ve come around a corner or into an aid station sooner than expected, and there are times it’s been much later. I know the experience inside her heart and head at those two times are very different, but the expression on her face and her demeanor is always the same. “You’re doing great, here’s your bottle, take some food, I love you”.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">The other night I asked, “Am I really as much of a challenge to you as people think?” She smiled and said, “No honey, you’ve got a lot of people fooled”.</span></div>
<br /><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">I love you Jeanne Owens.</span><br />Where Chris Runshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09554455211881718227noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4821478631014104872.post-72536573824802940762014-07-15T13:51:00.002-07:002014-07-15T13:51:58.011-07:00What I've Learned by Running Less <div dir="ltr" id="docs-internal-guid-8112f4a4-3bbb-9619-01ec-5f4dd30f4650" style="line-height: 1.15; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">I’m getting married in 11 days! That really is the biggest news I have to write about. Metaphorically and practically, I always feel it’s better to be running toward something rather than running away from something. And, so it goes that the beautiful girl that is always waiting just up the trail or road is going to say “I do” back to me.</span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZHQtANUAOMGrkNvOWU5yanwT51fFB3lXzhJBgOjTeCg8Mr1UVYA-sCyHfcmmPl2OsQtoyzGtwNFQYAgxpLjIdXSJ61qxTfVlLy4R0yhZ1nv_WldWR_AxpFA4UxDV31qH7Z257XVT_03E/s1600/backyard.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZHQtANUAOMGrkNvOWU5yanwT51fFB3lXzhJBgOjTeCg8Mr1UVYA-sCyHfcmmPl2OsQtoyzGtwNFQYAgxpLjIdXSJ61qxTfVlLy4R0yhZ1nv_WldWR_AxpFA4UxDV31qH7Z257XVT_03E/s1600/backyard.jpg" height="128" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Backyard Project Completed</td></tr>
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<div dir="ltr" id="docs-internal-guid-8112f4a4-3bbb-9619-01ec-5f4dd30f4650" style="line-height: 1.15; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"></span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">I haven’t posted anything here since March 10th but I have started several posts. They have titles like “Vernonia”, “A DNF Autopsy”, “Short Cuts” and “What’s Wrong With Me”. Several of them start the same way:</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: italic; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">I told you, from the start, just how this would end.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: italic; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">When they get what they want, they never want it again.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">Hole - Violet</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">I thought those lyrics would be a clever way to announce running a goal time at Vernonia, even though it wasn’t a PR. It didn’t work out that way. An ankle problem brought about by an ongoing hip problem ended my Vernonia Marathon at 19 miles. </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">I was in the process of writing about everything that went wrong at Vernonia when some initial medical evaluations, looked really bad, so I stopped writing that one. </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">When I got better news about my ankle, and a very real wake up call about taking care of my hip, I was either going to write about the many shortcuts that I realize I take in training or some sort of grand synopsis of everything wrong with me.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">I’ve had several months at very low mileage. I spent a very fun Saturday participating in the Elijah Bristow 24 hour race, even if I stopped at 32 miles. Regardless of any of these circumstances, I have always planned on an easy running July, focusing most of my time and energy on the wedding and getting the house ready for a reception. But a funny thing happened on the short road to the forum. I learned something about running. I’m old!</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">I really expected that dropping my miles down a bunch would, at least, give my body a break. I thought all of the aches and pains that I usually attribute to running would fade and I would have a few glorious, spry, nimble months before I got serious about training again. To quote my grandson Elliott “...as it turns out….” those aches and pains are all still with me, and are obviously more the result of aging than of running.</span></div>
<br /><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">If that is true…...then the honeymoon, both literally and figuratively, continues.</span>Where Chris Runshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09554455211881718227noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4821478631014104872.post-87459387933782216622014-03-10T15:26:00.000-07:002014-03-10T15:26:05.281-07:0020 Thousand Miles<div dir="ltr" id="docs-internal-guid-2442efd2-ae19-525c-b80e-db34885b6b76" style="line-height: 1.15; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">At the conclusion of Saturday’s 20 mile run I hit the 20,000 mile mark. At conservative estimates of 150 steps per minute and 10 minutes per mile, I’ve run 30 million steps since I started running 11 years ago. It’s 32,186 kilometers. It seems so much more is accomplished in a metric life. 20,000 of anything makes me think of 20,000 Leagues Under the Sea. I didn't know how far a league was, so I looked it up and 3.4523 miles equals a league. Which instantly made me call bullshit, since that would be 5,793 miles deep…..but then I learned that it is only used as a unit of length, not depth. It meant they travelled for 5,793 miles while under the sea. I never read the book.</span></div>
<br /><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"></span><div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.15; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">The next big milepost is 4,901 miles or, once around the world. At current pace that should happen in the Summer of 2016. I’m pretty set on hitting 24,901 at the site of the hospital where I was born in San Luis Obispo, CA. I’m also pretty set on a journey run down the California Coast to get there. Possibly starting at the Golden Gate Bridge. Still a lot of time and miles to figure all of that out.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">I meant to take a finish photo with Saturday’s running partners, Steve and Mindy. Kellie and Jeanne were also there for the finish. I even picked a semi photogenic finish line, for just such picture. But it was raining, and I was too interested in dry clothes and coffee and marionberry scones and before I knew it everybody was gone and no picture was taken.</span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYNz7pvNjMNxxMWLX_-iTVBmjjmsHstJHPGTORxPtjkjFPUmL_6ObBcAHJvdREM53nZ0VLyGdzKYXICcTXQ9eHFM25ht84qyAuo6WoekplDbvXEf1pBWNfa0wnH4pSeXb423m2flop0WA/s1600/eggrolls.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYNz7pvNjMNxxMWLX_-iTVBmjjmsHstJHPGTORxPtjkjFPUmL_6ObBcAHJvdREM53nZ0VLyGdzKYXICcTXQ9eHFM25ht84qyAuo6WoekplDbvXEf1pBWNfa0wnH4pSeXb423m2flop0WA/s1600/eggrolls.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Classy Side of Town</td></tr>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">This meant that the only picture I have to commemorate the day was this one. It’s from the fine Salem business establishment Hard Candy Gentlemen’s Club. I can neither confirm, nor deny, whether any gentlemen actually frequent the club. I do, however, appreciate how the sign embodies freedom of expression, cultural diversity and economic prosperity all at the same time.</span>Where Chris Runshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09554455211881718227noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4821478631014104872.post-45063356008603397292014-01-03T15:43:00.000-08:002014-01-03T15:43:25.622-08:00Years End, Years Begin<div dir="ltr" id="docs-internal-guid-569a759f-5a7b-f919-32af-b9fc53ef9cd0" style="line-height: 1.15; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">I’ve been humming a Tori Amos song for a week or so. I love having her songs stuck in my head. This one has been Pretty Good Year:</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: italic; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">Tears on the sleeve of a man</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: italic; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">Don't wanna be a boy today</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: italic; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">Heard the eternal footman</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: italic; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">Bought himself a bike to race</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: italic; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">And Greg he writes letters</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: italic; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">And burns his CDs</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: italic; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">They say you were something in those formative years</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: italic; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">Hold onto nothing</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: italic; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">As fast as you can</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: italic; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">Well still pretty good year</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">It has been a pretty good year. I turned 50 without the sky turning into a poisonous garden, or falling. I had an injury free running year that I feel good about the results. Most importantly, Jeanne has agreed to crew me, for life. We’re getting married in July. </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">I’ve blathered on and on about my realizing that PR’s are no longer a way to measure success, but I still know all of the times and splits and they still are the default goal for me in any race. I almost popped a half marathon PR at The Cascade Half Marathon in Turner in January. I missed it by 25 seconds. My hamstrings were a wreck for a week, which is how I know I really pushed it. I did PR 24 hours at Pacrim in Longview WA in March. I had gone with a goal of 100 miles so I was a little disappointed with only getting to 77 in some pretty nasty weather. I felt like I ran a very solid marathon in Newport in June, and then had a blast running 50 miles on my 50th birthday. The highlight race of the year was Le Grizz 50 miler in Montana in October. Spectacular scenery running along the Flathead River near Glacier National Park and one of my better performances in ultra distances. I wrapped the year up with a Dawn to Dusk run on Dec 21st, covering 42 miles from sunrise to sunset and completed my 6th consecutive year of at least 2,000 for the year.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">I’ve got plans for 2014 but none bigger than marrying Jeanne in July. So far the “It’s about time” responses have seemed to outpace the “congratulations” about 4 to 1. We will spend a week on Orcas Island for a honeymoon, which I’m also really looking forward to.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">Running plans are a little bit lighter this year. I should hit 20,000 miles run sometime in late February early March, so I’ll need to figure how how to celebrate that, with food. I’m running the ORRC 10K Series. 6 races spread out over the year, with accumulated points to get all geeked out about stats and times. I’ll run the Vernonia Marathon in April. I’m not sure how much speed training I can get by then, but the 10k training and racing should help quite a bit. My A race for the year will be Elijah Bristow 24 hour in Dexter OR in June, where I’ll stalk 100 miles again. I haven’t really decided on a Fall race, but right now I’m thinking either a marathon or 50k feels right.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">I have all sorts of resolution ish thoughts, regarding running and health. More yoga and core strengthening. More speed and hill work. Being more proactive about chiro and massage, instead of using it to put me back together. Better eating habits, less late night eating, more fruits and vegetables. But I don’t really make resolutions or I end up disappointing myself. Still I hope to keep these things in the front of my mind and do better at them.</span></div>
<br /><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"></span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">So, I’ll start 2014 with my first video imbedded in a blog:</span><br />
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"><iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="//www.youtube.com/embed/ZpLCFph9iv4" width="420"></iframe> </span>Where Chris Runshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09554455211881718227noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4821478631014104872.post-89127747086611883342013-12-16T16:03:00.001-08:002013-12-16T16:03:24.121-08:00Dawn to Dusk 2013<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi22VZxk7Wdt_lH7GL5xz1xToyVczpKfUEsQtOAsUca37Qu2lPbyI263B1_8nTibrgz7B4OAjyl9y5brq-51A7_oAgLkOkzUjEoh6vsQnDFIEEuZ79T-cn2BMuXwgpOxt_7pH2AbUPMQmY/s1600/thirds1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi22VZxk7Wdt_lH7GL5xz1xToyVczpKfUEsQtOAsUca37Qu2lPbyI263B1_8nTibrgz7B4OAjyl9y5brq-51A7_oAgLkOkzUjEoh6vsQnDFIEEuZ79T-cn2BMuXwgpOxt_7pH2AbUPMQmY/s320/thirds1.jpg" width="238" /></a></td></tr>
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<div dir="ltr" id="docs-internal-guid-14caf2ce-fdd9-868c-3956-6423d08e5e09" style="line-height: 1.15; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">I’m going to do it again, regardless of the weather. Dec 21 is the shortest day of the year, 8 hours and 47 minutes with sunrise being at 7:47 AM and sunset at 4:34. The goal, as in years past....some successful, some not....is to run 45 miles from sunup to sundown. Rather than go point to point, this year I'll do 9, 5 mile loops starting and finishing at our house. The direction of each loop will be decided at the beginning of each one, by coin flip.</span></div>
Where Chris Runshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09554455211881718227noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4821478631014104872.post-85964045154788435772013-10-26T11:14:00.002-07:002013-10-26T11:14:35.050-07:00Le Grizz in Big Sky Country<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0U0DRXT5FPPSp_5xrAuOYeespyxKPc96IbiRNIf2zUEN5qExsqzzuAgmNuaXos6fK2qN8AAnrsFYSHIB5yf09aNpVvkVA3uijHCgUvAtRHT1R47M2fnHL2AHK14bQ9t7W0Lj5Ikhlek4/s1600/Photo+Oct+11+5+02+51+PM.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0U0DRXT5FPPSp_5xrAuOYeespyxKPc96IbiRNIf2zUEN5qExsqzzuAgmNuaXos6fK2qN8AAnrsFYSHIB5yf09aNpVvkVA3uijHCgUvAtRHT1R47M2fnHL2AHK14bQ9t7W0Lj5Ikhlek4/s320/Photo+Oct+11+5+02+51+PM.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Big Sky Country</td></tr>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">*I had this blog finished and ready to post on Monday. I then found out that one of my dearest friends in the world had passed away on Sunday, and my life went a little sideways. Steve had been very sick for quite a while so it was not completely unexpected, but shocking still. He was one of the most generous people I have or will ever know. Jewelia summed it up perfectly, “Damn, I thought the world felt smaller”.*</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">Le Grizz 50 Miler wasn’t part of my original 2013 plans. I had purposely not planned anything beyond a Run Across Oregon, that sadly didn’t happen this year. Once it became obvious that we would need to delay the cross state run I contemplate a fall marathon, but quickly decided that getting back into the Western States lottery was what I really wanted to do, and Le Grizz has been on my “must run” list for years.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">There is some cliche that get’s carelessly tossed around about not focusing on the destination but enjoying the journey. I’m not sure who is responsible for that saying but I’m finding that the older I get the more unsightly the journey becomes. I’ve really battled through some hip issues this Summer. It took numerous chiropractic and massage appointments to keep me going. I even broke down and committed a cardinal sin for myself in getting xrays. My usual saying is “amputation before xray”, but I just had this nagging feeling that I may be fighting something insurmountable like degenerative joint disease. Alas, no, my hips are fine, just muscle imbalance which is remarkably unoriginal for distance runners.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">I have a pretty good routine for the week before a race. A little fartlek type speed workout on the Monday. A 10 to 12 mile, very slow, run on the Tuesday. Chiro and massage on the Wednesday. Then light, easy 3 to 4 milers on the Thursday and Friday. Monday, as I was walking around gathering up running clothes and shoes, my ankle twisted. It hurt really bad at first, then seemed fine. As soon as I started running on it, it was not fine. I walked back to the house, semi freaking out. I iced it, took some ibuprofen and decided to see how it felt on Tuesday. I’ve made this mistake before. There is an adage I’ve heard, better to race a little undertrained than a little injured. I decided that nothing I would do in this last week was going to help more than running on a dinged up ankle would hurt, so I didn’t run all week. I watched my weight slowly creep up, despite eating really soundly, and hoped everything would be ok by Saturday.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">We left for Montana, Thursday afternoon, with hopes of making it Spokane that night. We might have made it too, if my Bears weren’t on TV that night in the sports bar where we stopped to have dinner. We made it as far as Ritzville, WA, which isn’t very ritzy, at all. Friday morning I went for a three mile test run, my ankle was just fine.</span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhP5D4G6dCDepGvb0SrGbw6Mec98j6sJVGitvYT6HtXrJvAlr6qSUFUHu2P4k6ZbyTk0aERNiE2CkJH7IiaRyEKOmlSA-eYfONfG1vQx2NuADz0ey3kyfmaVxHiMHD9aNhBYDZWnov-yFI/s1600/Photo+Oct+13+7+46+44+AM.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhP5D4G6dCDepGvb0SrGbw6Mec98j6sJVGitvYT6HtXrJvAlr6qSUFUHu2P4k6ZbyTk0aERNiE2CkJH7IiaRyEKOmlSA-eYfONfG1vQx2NuADz0ey3kyfmaVxHiMHD9aNhBYDZWnov-yFI/s320/Photo+Oct+13+7+46+44+AM.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Clark Fork River</td></tr>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">I’m not sure I’ve been to a more beautiful place than the Clark Fork River through the Lolo National Forest in the Fall. Jeanne kept having to tell me to watch the road, as it felt like my head was on a swivel looking all around. We drove through some pretty desolate stretches of wide open spaces that reminded me of the Harry Chapin song Mail Order Annie.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">“You know it's not no easy life you're entering.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">The winter wind comes whistling through the cracks there in the sod.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">You know you'll never have too many neighbors.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">There's you Girl, and there's me, and there's God.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">You know I'm just a dirt man from the North Dakota plains.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">You're one girl from the city who's been thrown out on her own.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">I'm standing here not sure of what to say to you</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">'Cepting Mail Order Annie, lets you and me go home.”</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">Friday night would have been fairly uneventful, check in to motel, make sure we knew how to get to the turnoff that leads up to the start and have a truly fantastic dinner at Three Forks Grille in Columbia Falls. It would have been fairly uneventful were it not for the black bear that suddenly appeared in our headlights while traveling 40 mph on our way back from dinner! So Friday night ended with a pretty big adrenaline rush.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">I had practiced several long runs taking in liquid calories early in the run. My plan was to keep on a very even intake of liquid calories for as long as I could, but most importantly, make sure I started with the very first hour. I did really well on nutrition all day. I never had stomach problems, the only thing I consumed other than my Infinit Nutrition drink was a granola bar around mile 25 and some coke around mile 34.</span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinB4yZPoQYnWGvpvCDsUZ_1Dh7twcKA5wC9vJoFzYg6vzWhILAy25CAhgrfCVNTT91sNHEHqL7EJ0_ZhF6qa2BcY_Z5AMt_O_URP3Lnl99QT9b4YEj9InAzf9B9-JfdPmTwWOe-87Znmo/s1600/Photo+Oct+12%252C+12+13+47+PM.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinB4yZPoQYnWGvpvCDsUZ_1Dh7twcKA5wC9vJoFzYg6vzWhILAy25CAhgrfCVNTT91sNHEHqL7EJ0_ZhF6qa2BcY_Z5AMt_O_URP3Lnl99QT9b4YEj9InAzf9B9-JfdPmTwWOe-87Znmo/s320/Photo+Oct+12%252C+12+13+47+PM.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">All that's between US and Canada</td></tr>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">The course was more difficult than I had anticipated. For the first 7 miles it was a mixture of paved roads and really nice smooth dirt roads and very flat. As we passed by the short road from the start/finish and started heading toward the Canadian border we hit our first hill. It was a little more than a mile long and runnable, but it was the first time I noticed that I was at a higher elevation than I’m used to. I ran pretty well out to the turn around (mile 29) at the border. I had hoped to stay on 10 min per mile pace to the turn around and was about 18 minutes behind that pace when I turned around. Then the wheels really fell off. Usually somewhere between mile 30 and 35 in any race, no matter the distance, I go through a really bad patch. This was one of the worst. I was sleepy, my hips hurt bad and I didn’t even feel like I could take advantage of the downhills. The road, which was rocky dirt, was starting to catch my toes a lot and I almost took a header a few times. I spent a few very slow miles contemplating taking some Ibuprofen for my hips. Finally around mile 33 I gave in and took some. A few miles later I drank some coke. I’m not sure whether to give either or both the credit for my rebound but I did rebound really well.</span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgP5sMa9UVrHsf4GMZLy1nLDQlhiGo6hcNoZVgNy0oNy1k5h1seYvx4BVXckR5S4frjUQ2dojHIsb6kPrdst51c4HtGW_EC4uFdGJcX0sokGSgirJSJqW-LaC6tPgsarheVIWLK_ADzdqA/s1600/Photo+Oct+12%252C+11+22+16+AM.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgP5sMa9UVrHsf4GMZLy1nLDQlhiGo6hcNoZVgNy0oNy1k5h1seYvx4BVXckR5S4frjUQ2dojHIsb6kPrdst51c4HtGW_EC4uFdGJcX0sokGSgirJSJqW-LaC6tPgsarheVIWLK_ADzdqA/s320/Photo+Oct+12%252C+11+22+16+AM.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Things in mirror are faster than they appear.</td></tr>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"> </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">My mile 29 to 33 split was around 14 minutes per mile as I suffered. From that point in, my every 4 ish mile splits were 11:54, 11:45, 10:34 and 10:24 for the last five miles. And that was it. Goal time had been 9:30. I spent about 4 miles trying to make my peace with finishing in over 10 hours, then caught some late magic and ended up finishing in 9:19. With about 8 miles to go I heard wolves, which was crazy exciting and makes every hair on your body stand on end. Jeanne and several others crews got to see a huge Grizzly run across a meadow.</span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0qjL5MO4Fipz9cznwnuk9Lem8JNUKXPw5FJb21iCaOYQvmlFKaDUvVVzdhoeYQiDPOnI293yainUBrpdz_scRGP8IVYZbnKikOuFaz5cUQJoggCaJSzFeRh6-6VIPeapQfCiPwFvhPAw/s1600/Photo+Oct+12%252C+4+23+30+PM.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0qjL5MO4Fipz9cznwnuk9Lem8JNUKXPw5FJb21iCaOYQvmlFKaDUvVVzdhoeYQiDPOnI293yainUBrpdz_scRGP8IVYZbnKikOuFaz5cUQJoggCaJSzFeRh6-6VIPeapQfCiPwFvhPAw/s320/Photo+Oct+12%252C+4+23+30+PM.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My number fell off, but was found at the border.</td></tr>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">I tried to eat some of the fried chicken they had provided, but it was being kept warm on a barbecue pit and it smelled and tasted like lighter fluid. I talked for while with a guy from Spokane that had finished a few minutes in front of me, he had a huge group of people with him. Once again, I had the greatest crew in the world. Jeanne is still not recovered from her broken heel, but drove the entire course left footed and I know the road was much rougher on vehicles than it was runners, we could at least pick our way around the rocks. She was perfectly understated in her encouragement, which is exactly what works for me, and never acknowledged my complaining, which is also exactly what works for me. I’ll say it, over and over, she is way better at crewing these things than I am at running them.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">We took a Pizza back to the room, watched my UCLA Bruins play the Cal Golden Bears, a matchup that seemed very appropriate. I fell asleep at half time, but UCLA didn’t really need my help.</span></div>
<br /><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"></span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">All that was left was the 13 hour drive home on Sunday, back through some of the most beautiful landscapes we have ever seen in our lifetimes.</span>Where Chris Runshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09554455211881718227noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4821478631014104872.post-59504074909014920532013-08-16T12:11:00.000-07:002013-08-16T12:11:57.674-07:00Running Arithmetic<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnimJuag1i6aAC4VAk3nhnZfVrq2QZ9yjfE7GbfThaYJVBmhefF2rQsUZB4WR8wKVZE0szfx8QJLeGh0hWlc-u3ziCnbmm8S0csEmqYhKETqbvIWcZ3sk7hH2ACx5TKgvRcQsP6L6LEFc/s1600/Photo+Jul+17,+4+15+03+PM.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="256" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnimJuag1i6aAC4VAk3nhnZfVrq2QZ9yjfE7GbfThaYJVBmhefF2rQsUZB4WR8wKVZE0szfx8QJLeGh0hWlc-u3ziCnbmm8S0csEmqYhKETqbvIWcZ3sk7hH2ACx5TKgvRcQsP6L6LEFc/s320/Photo+Jul+17,+4+15+03+PM.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Oregon Summer</td></tr>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">It’s been 3,880 days since I started “running”, though I ran a lot before that official day. I’m going to pass 19,000 miles today. That’s only 4.9 miles per day. It doesn’t seem very impressive when I look at it like that. Averages are a strange statistic. Humans have an uncanny knack for distorting averages. A prolific serial killer, let’s say one that killed 45 people over the course of 10 years, would have only killed, on average, .002 people per day. I always loved the idea that, on average, every human being has one testical and one breast. People routinely ask me “how far do you run each day”, I usually mumble some vague, “oh, it depends on the day”. I think, for a while, I’ll answer “4.89, even on days off”. </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"></span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">I don’t know if I’ll make it to 20,000 before the end of the year. I’d only need to average a little over 7 miles per day, which doesn’t seem that tough. I’ll get a little ahead of that pace building up to Le Grizz in October, but I also know my body will want a little wind down after. I think I’m getting close enough to start a projection spreadsheet for arriving at 24,901, once around the Earth. Something says that 24,901st mile needs to finish “somewhere”, but I’m not sure where that would be. The ocean......well, AN ocean, makes sense. My birthplace makes sense. Someplace I’ve never been to before makes sense. Fortunately, I’ve got a little time to think about it. 1,039 days, actually, unless I pick up the pace.</span>Where Chris Runshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09554455211881718227noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4821478631014104872.post-55021694848523213522013-08-08T14:31:00.002-07:002013-08-08T14:31:26.383-07:0050 for 50 Final<div dir="ltr" id="docs-internal-guid-3ab7db22-5fcc-0862-c01c-9519e0b10d71" style="line-height: 1.15; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">I’ve been trying to finish this blog up for several days, but in my advancing years, nothing happens as fast as it used to. I turned 50 on August 1st and decided to commemorate it with a 50 mile run. As the run would be without Supercrew Jeanne, I figured a loop route that had a few opportunities to get water. I read somewhere about a person than did a similar birthday miles run and on each mile, reflected on the corresponding year in their life. While that is cool, I wasn’t doing that, there’s too much better shit to think about.</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjO3VbC7Mx4v7PZiSWdt5U5nMie_qxnDO7Zb43EVQYp8zBXIzcscETqtM0QNsqBA7uGKHO7XvQDSZqv0u2jowCc71Q3XjQSdYTSakYH1SvSdApJnDjtDFo7JZArmSS75iB1IyjA-R3B8mw/s1600/Photo+Aug+01%252C+8+37+21+AM.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjO3VbC7Mx4v7PZiSWdt5U5nMie_qxnDO7Zb43EVQYp8zBXIzcscETqtM0QNsqBA7uGKHO7XvQDSZqv0u2jowCc71Q3XjQSdYTSakYH1SvSdApJnDjtDFo7JZArmSS75iB1IyjA-R3B8mw/s320/Photo+Aug+01%252C+8+37+21+AM.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">It certainly is.</td></tr>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"> My plan was for a 5:30 AM start, but I woke up with an unsettled stomach and didn’t want to start out a whole day of running looking for a bathroom. It was close to 6:00 before I headed out the door and was met by a deer, in the middle of the street, just in front of the house. Our backyard is on the deer superhighway through the neighborhood but I usually only see the tracks through the garden and notice the leaves missing. Despite my delayed start I still ended up making a bathroom stop at mile 2. If my legs gave me as much problems as my stomach does, I would quit running.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">The first 10 miles took me from Dallas to Independence. I really didn’t have much of a goal time, other than giving people some rough estimates of where I might be at a given time. Still, I like to get the early part of long run done on a schedule, as you never know what can happen later. I was pretty steady and on pace through Independence but my stomach still wasn’t cooperating. I really got lucky on the weather, it was overcast and in the 70’s the whole day. I’m sure if it had been hotter, the nausea I battled would have been much worse. I made a quick bathroom stop and water refill at the McDonalds in Independence, (they are good for something) and then headed towards the Buena Vista Ferry.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">It’s 10 miles to the Ferry and then another 12 to Salem before I had any reliable places to refill water. I stashed a bottle of Infinit, a bottle of water and a granola bar at the ferry. At about mile 15 I had my only real moment of doubt and truth. My stomach was really unsettled and I was already establishing a recognized pattern of not fueling enough. I didn’t trust eating much more but knew that if I didn’t, the next 17 miles could get pretty ugly. I thought through the option of heading back, that would put me back in a town in 5 miles, I could rest, have a bathroom available, regroup and if I felt up to it, figure out a different remaining 30 that was closer to towns. I knew that as I was thinking about this, that the further I continued to run the more difficult the decision would be. 5 back vs 17 forward would soon be 10 back or 12 forward. I don’t ever remember making a definitive decision to march forward, but I never decided to turn around and go back and gradually the decision was made for me. </span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEih2ewwTyFz0NiUGOlQR6ztN_oFHTjs6HAHs1uFnjd7-SBTAFzKJ6am3Hn6KaLZ2glLwUwbthY0iTT-83TZjqECooG_8q0iEuxlVodtWMOmW0YcoS2YFidcO3OqR1jQWB2nVJHczCrLXLk/s1600/Photo+Aug+01%252C+9+19+33+AM.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEih2ewwTyFz0NiUGOlQR6ztN_oFHTjs6HAHs1uFnjd7-SBTAFzKJ6am3Hn6KaLZ2glLwUwbthY0iTT-83TZjqECooG_8q0iEuxlVodtWMOmW0YcoS2YFidcO3OqR1jQWB2nVJHczCrLXLk/s320/Photo+Aug+01%252C+9+19+33+AM.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Willamette as seen from the Buena Vista Ferry</td></tr>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"> The last 3 miles to the ferry I actually started feeling much better and ran really well up the hill to Buena Vista. I found my stash, refilled my empty bottle (I used 2 handhelds for the next 15 miles) and forced myself to eat the granola bar. Crossing the ferry had a no turning back feel to it, if for no other reason that it was just as far to turn back now.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">The five miles from the ferry to Liberty hill also went really well, my stomach was still bothering me but it wasn’t getting any worse and I was figuring out about how much I could feed it without it revolting and was getting myself into a pretty good head space dealing with it. In this stretch through the Ankeny Wildlife Refuge I saw a mink which was really cool. I also saw a mother hawk feeding two fledglings out of the nest. They were sitting on a telephone pole just above me watching mom hunt. </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">I had driven Liberty Hill a few weeks ago. I knew it was about 2.5 miles from the bottom to the top. I knew there were some pretty steep spots, but when driving it I remember telling myself, “you’ll only be half way at this point, don’t blow yourself up on the hill, walk the steep parts and run the not so steep parts”. I never really felt like I was on a “not so steep part”, and laughed about how different a hill seems from a car vs running it.</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrwd7Hph6vJs7vBS7J4_ufjF0nOoCdF4aBW56E2PfqZZTe00E3WhoRixVpz_498JtpapUs3canAeZfpBD1HHG-5KIadlV7TSAWofdFXV9v4A2qS_DDYvREO1_uFUY1UCAOq_Qr_ia-knc/s1600/Photo+Aug+01%252C+11+05+45+AM.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrwd7Hph6vJs7vBS7J4_ufjF0nOoCdF4aBW56E2PfqZZTe00E3WhoRixVpz_498JtpapUs3canAeZfpBD1HHG-5KIadlV7TSAWofdFXV9v4A2qS_DDYvREO1_uFUY1UCAOq_Qr_ia-knc/s320/Photo+Aug+01%252C+11+05+45+AM.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Looking back down Liberty Hill</td></tr>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">The downhill into Salem was rough on my legs. I was closing in on 30 miles and my quads were really sore the whole downhill and continued to hurt once things flattened out. I had a convience store picked out to refill bottles but still had plenty left for the last 4 miles into downtown.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">I was getting pretty ragged, running really slow and hating running on sidewalks and having to stop for traffic lights as I came into town. I had planned on stopping at <a href="http://www.alcyonecafe.com/">Alcyone</a>, where my daughter, Jewelia, works for some coke and a light lunch. I really didn’t feel like eating when I arrived there at mile 35 so I asked for some turkey and some avocado on a plate. I wish I had thought to take a picture, the plate was beautiful, looked like a plate of sushi. I ate as much of it as I dared and probably drank more coke than I should have to compensate and was on my way.</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOwHWdN7FVe2FZ8sqDsRYffQfENjEh3CXekAYds6igiEX-9Sv7zxfiuV-Xdp4givIh7GRjnMwSY7Jr-EcITavV6-Qw7KIUdzJmhVDa0Kzbd3M-CenMFj4r-BkGbQIqrcp_8Oouo5XOApw/s1600/Photo+Aug+01%252C+1+24+03+PM.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOwHWdN7FVe2FZ8sqDsRYffQfENjEh3CXekAYds6igiEX-9Sv7zxfiuV-Xdp4givIh7GRjnMwSY7Jr-EcITavV6-Qw7KIUdzJmhVDa0Kzbd3M-CenMFj4r-BkGbQIqrcp_8Oouo5XOApw/s320/Photo+Aug+01%252C+1+24+03+PM.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Arial;">Back across the Willamette</span></td></tr>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"> I walked through downtown to let my food settle a bit and also so I could stop at <a href="http://www.activesalem.com/">Gallagher’s Fitness</a> and say hi. They were really supportive and encouraging, and with a little Coke in my system I made pretty good time up and over the bridge and through West Salem. Jerry Mullins was going to try and run the last several miles with me and we had a pretty good plan for how to meet up. I gave him a worst case and best case scenario for where I’d be at 2:30 and then as a back up plan, I’d text him from Holman Park (mile 39 for those not familiar with the infamous Holman Park). I hit my worst case scenario spot exactly at 2:30, which considering that was based on starting a half hour earlier than I did, felt pretty good, but I didn’t see him there. I also didn’t see him at the Independence highway turnoff, or at the cemetery. I was now convinced that I’d see him at the golf course, take my last break, eat my last gel, fill up my water bottles and be ready for the last 8 miles. He wasn’t there. I took a quick break, filled my bottle and took off, not knowing what might have happened but resigned to finishing it on my own.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">I was trudging down Rickreall Road when out of nowhere, I heard footsteps coming up behind me. I don’t know how far behind me he started at the golf course but it took 2 miles of fast running for him to catch me! It was awesome having company for the last six miles. I was going really slow by this point, and I even messed up some math and had myself convinced that it was going to be close to 5:00 before I finished, which now seems ridiculous that I could have thought that, but we’ve all had that happen after enough miles. Jerry and I parted a half mile from home. It was only at that point that I realized I’d been wrong on the time. I was going to finish very close to the time I had targeted, which was 10 hours.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">As I walked up the driveway I noticed a bag hanging on the front door that said Happy 50. Just as I was thinking how nice that was, it occurred to me that I hadn’t thought the finish through very well. I had no house key. We have a remote keypad for the garage door, but when I lifted the lid for it, I noticed that the red light that is supposed to light didn’t and sure enough.....the battery was dead in it. A walk around the house confirmed that yep, it was locked up tight everywhere.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">I sent a text to Jeanne, seeing how close to home she was, but she was still 40 minutes away at least. So, I tried to make the best of it. I filled my bottle from the garden hose, sat down on the front porch and took off my shoes. Took a picture of my feet and posted them on Facebook. I was starting to get really cold and was really hungry. To kill a little more time, I decided to investigate the birthday bag. It was from Julie and Jerry Mullins and it was a big tub of blueberries! I started eating them like crazy, and then thought, I’ve had an upset stomach all day, this is fruit, and I’m locked out of the house for another half hour. So I let discretion be the better part of valor and stopped eating. I was soon rescued and in a warm shower. We were going to go out for dinner that night, but I just didn’t feel up to it, so Jeanne’s mom brought some dinner over and we had a little birthday party at home.</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7AYCVraR77hvy16fbuaqN-3GlLh04mLHGEUG7DUsM7yfLKmwolYigmPWX5-xj5GS2GwigoKWUosKSckIJY-82EuWysbxrKhyphenhyphenHt7GifJP7oJy6S3BSQPMH_6_4pWbBaWZNrkUdXhd9b7c/s1600/Photo+Aug+01%252C+4+43+41+PM.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7AYCVraR77hvy16fbuaqN-3GlLh04mLHGEUG7DUsM7yfLKmwolYigmPWX5-xj5GS2GwigoKWUosKSckIJY-82EuWysbxrKhyphenhyphenHt7GifJP7oJy6S3BSQPMH_6_4pWbBaWZNrkUdXhd9b7c/s320/Photo+Aug+01%252C+4+43+41+PM.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The obligatory feet photo</td></tr>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"> I’ve spent a fair amount of time thinking about birthday miles. Realizing that at some point it would start requiring the whole day to complete it, and the feeling that with the advance of age and the increase in miles, that time will sneak up pretty quick. I tried to predict or set a goal for myself on how long I could keep running my age in miles on my birthday, but decided that so much of that is starting to be out of my hands and rests with fate, that it’s best to just be humble and grateful for each healthy year.</span></div>
<br />
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"></span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">I have completely replaced my disappointment with not being able to attempt my Run Across Oregon with anticipation for Le Grizz 50 Miler in Montana October 12th. I don’t know how much of the “Grizzly Bear Country” warnings are marketing and how much is real, but it does add a level of excitement to the whole idea.</span>Where Chris Runshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09554455211881718227noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4821478631014104872.post-2824320258971057702013-07-23T14:29:00.000-07:002013-07-24T10:42:01.560-07:0050 for 50<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">I've had some melancholy moments, lately, and thought of things like The Love Song of J Alfred Prufrock by T.S Eliot. Lines that I now realize, having loved them for years, I never really understood:</span><br />
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<tr><td><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">And would it have been worth it, after all,</span></td><td><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><a href="http://www.blogger.com/null" name="87"></a></span></td></tr>
<tr><td><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">After the cups, the marmalade, the tea,</span></td><td><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><a href="http://www.blogger.com/null" name="88"></a></span></td></tr>
<tr><td><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Among the porcelain, among some talk of you and me,</span></td><td><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><a href="http://www.blogger.com/null" name="89"></a></span></td></tr>
<tr><td><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Would it have been worth while,</span></td><td align="RIGHT" valign="TOP"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><a href="http://www.blogger.com/null" name="90"><i> </i></a></span></td></tr>
<tr><td><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">To have bitten off the matter with a smile,</span></td><td><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><a href="http://www.blogger.com/null" name="91"></a></span></td></tr>
<tr><td><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">To have squeezed the universe into a ball</span></td><td><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><a href="http://www.blogger.com/null" name="92"></a></span></td></tr>
<tr><td><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">To roll it toward some overwhelming question,</span></td><td><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><a href="http://www.blogger.com/null" name="93"></a></span></td></tr>
<tr><td><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">To say: “I am Lazarus, come from the dead,</span></td><td><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><a href="http://www.blogger.com/null" name="94"></a></span></td></tr>
<tr><td><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Come back to tell you all, I shall tell you all”—</span></td><td align="RIGHT" valign="TOP"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><a href="http://www.blogger.com/null" name="95"><i> </i></a></span></td></tr>
<tr><td><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">If one, settling a pillow by her head,</span></td><td><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><a href="http://www.blogger.com/null" name="96"></a></span></td></tr>
<tr><td><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Should say: “That is not what I meant at all;</span></td><td><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><a href="http://www.blogger.com/null" name="97"></a></span></td></tr>
<tr><td><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">That is not it, at all.”</span></td></tr>
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<div dir="ltr" id="docs-internal-guid-1744a1a8-0d65-dae7-8488-3de04d788441" style="line-height: 1.15; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">I’m going to turn 50 on August 1, 2013. A few years ago, I read about someone running 70 on their 70th birthday, was obviously blown away, and wondered to my myself, when a good age to start such a thing would be. 50 seemed like as good a place as anywhere to start. With my superstar road crew unable to drive yet, I’ve had to figure out how to do it unsupported. My <a href="http://www.runningahead.com/maps/5539adbf4f1d4fdd8d4f3fba8108c7b6?unit=mi">route</a> will go through Independence, out to Buena Vista and over the river on the ferry. From there, I’ll make my way up the backside of Liberty Hill and then staying on Liberty into Salem. My only scheduled break will be at Alcyone at mile 35 for some Coke and maybe some turkey and avocado if I think my stomach can handle it. After that, over the bridge into West Salem and then a very common 15 miles back to Dallas.</span></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br /><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"></span></span>
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">I think I have all of the logistics figured out. The stretch from the ferry to South Salem is probably my biggest concern. About 12 miles without any obvious opportunities for water. Some sketchy shoulders and the only significant hill is also in this section. That 12 mile stretch is also the only part of the entire route I’ve never run on.</span></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br /><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"></span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">I’m not counting on any needing any supplies from anyone, but if you are in the area on the first and want to drive out to check on me, or run any part of it, let me know.</span></span>Where Chris Runshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09554455211881718227noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4821478631014104872.post-79121973957459749332013-07-08T15:08:00.000-07:002013-07-08T15:08:17.215-07:00Tough Break<div dir="ltr" id="docs-internal-guid-1370b6d9-c053-4d07-cce1-562168f562b4" style="line-height: 1.15; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">Memorial Day weekend Jeanne injured her ankle. She stepped in a trench on the side of the house while helping me with the great patio project. It looked like a sprain and acted like a sprain. Even her physical therapist boss said it seemed like a bad sprain. She spent 5 weeks in a boot, granted a pretty active, on her feet, five weeks, but still in a boot, and it wasn’t getting any better. So, on the Tuesday before Independence Day she had it x-rayed, and on the day after Independence Day, she learned her fate. Her heel is fractured. She is on crutches and will see an orthopedist this week and no driving. So much for her “Independence” Day.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">I have decided to postpone the Run Across Oregon. We pondered and discussed many “what ifs”, but in the end two thoughts confirmed this decision for me: </span></div>
<br /><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"></span><div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.15; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">The first, it was already a very selfless act on Jeanne’s part to spend her vacation time following me around central Oregon. She says she loves crewing me on runs like this and I believe her, but I also know there are plenty of other ways she could imagine spending a vacation. On journey runs we are usually able to sightsee together, go on short hikes, out to dinner etc to make it feel a little more like a vacation, or at least that’s how I justify it my mind. I can’t imagine doing it if she had to suffer through it just to drive my ass to hotels and to start points. The best part of a crewed journey run is having my best friend with me.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">The second reason is pretty selfish, but no less true. 35 miles a day for 8 straight days in very hot conditions is nothing to be taken lightly. Under perfect conditions, there will be very difficult times, and thoughts of abandoning the run will enter your head. If I also know that Jeanne is having a difficult time and is suffering, I fear it would just be too easy for me to convince myself to abandon “for her”.</span></div>
<br /><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"></span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">So, that’s it. I’ll save this journey for next Summer. Instead, I’ll begin an annual tradition of running my years in miles on my birthday. I’ve always wondered when an appropriate time to start this would be, and 50 on 50, August 1 seems perfect. I will also run a Western States qualifier this fall, and start working towards getting back there. Last year, I didn’t feel the pull very hard, but this year the lure of Western States really started to haunt me again. I’m about 90% committed to Le Grizz 50 in Montana in October.</span>Where Chris Runshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09554455211881718227noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4821478631014104872.post-61095865291660549282013-07-01T15:33:00.000-07:002013-07-01T15:33:26.207-07:00Run Across Oregon T Minus 5 Weeks<div dir="ltr" id="docs-internal-guid-4a6a75f9-9c5c-7ccf-469a-c8f2092feeac" style="line-height: 1.15; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">If
there is one thing I’ve learned from running failures is that it is
unwise to not plan. If there is another one thing I have learned it’s
that things will never go as planned. The trick seems to be knowing
when to abandon “the plan” and when to stick with it. This is where
having a crew that really understands you is invaluable. I can be
really stubborn, well all of the time, but really when I’m running.
Especially if the task in front of me is intimidating. This manifest
itself in really stupid ways sometimes like thinking I don’t need to eat
or drink. In the early days of Jeanne crewing for me, she just trusted
my judgement (after some debate of course). As we have gotten better
at this we are learning to blend my “how I feel” with her pragmatic
observation of “how I look”. I am completely in awe of people that do
long multi day runs with no crew. I would really like to try it
someday, to experience how it changes decision making. </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">So,
we have a plan, a notebook, the Run Across Oregon Notebook. A black,
three ring binder with maps in it so far. Before we leave, it will have
hotel addresses and phone numbers and a food and drink log. Despite
how enamored both of us are with electronic gadgets, this is something
that a notebook just feels really comforting.</span></div>
<br /><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"></span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">A
32 mile run with temps in the 80’s on Saturday was a nice mental warm
up (some pun intended) for what I can expect in just 32 more days!</span>Where Chris Runshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09554455211881718227noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4821478631014104872.post-88576458490150846082013-06-28T11:12:00.001-07:002013-06-28T11:12:04.258-07:00The Dufur Fun Run<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3TtbDC5JcwvXhjYrfaqGTb4RjYbRzB10I1VxZLG7mspl7xOjWFlrMv1qOd40klbcMN8oiKH7W5dA6TssyNpyWbsGwFaUzCTxhs4BwNcpDSabUs62pFXP56GClVthXV24ommruzg-RbvY/s259/balch.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3TtbDC5JcwvXhjYrfaqGTb4RjYbRzB10I1VxZLG7mspl7xOjWFlrMv1qOd40klbcMN8oiKH7W5dA6TssyNpyWbsGwFaUzCTxhs4BwNcpDSabUs62pFXP56GClVthXV24ommruzg-RbvY/s259/balch.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Balch Hotel, Dufur Oregon</td></tr>
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<span id="docs-internal-guid-4d539871-8bf8-43b1-0d67-03666d7f574b" style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">If
all goes according to plan, my Run Across Oregon should complete on
Sunday, Aug 11, 2013 with a 14 mile Fun Run from Dufur to the Washington
border. At this point, the plan will be to leave the delightful <a href="http://www.balchhotel.com/">Balch Hotel</a> in Dufur at 9:00 AM arriving at the border sometime before noon,
take a few pictures then head back (drive!) to Dufur for lunch. If you
are interested in participating in the Fun Run let me know. If you need
any further enticement, that weekend is also the <a href="http://www.dufurthreshingbee.org/">Dufur Threshing Bee</a>!</span><br />
Where Chris Runshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09554455211881718227noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4821478631014104872.post-78333115111832843752013-06-17T12:41:00.003-07:002013-06-17T12:41:42.780-07:00Run Across Oregon T Minus 7 Weeks<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWZesSxOvgnVZQjJf_Ucs7ZbDSORtn5HG8ZH-I5ng8IjPra9IkaB2dmOs92ti9suVGwiC9GopfPy2q6uuTnxaZJcp873A1fuXcXsZNFGTa0koVvaZChyphenhyphenoaPL8wruBtiUK5yUbymhfUCWc/s1600/CBO_0038.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWZesSxOvgnVZQjJf_Ucs7ZbDSORtn5HG8ZH-I5ng8IjPra9IkaB2dmOs92ti9suVGwiC9GopfPy2q6uuTnxaZJcp873A1fuXcXsZNFGTa0koVvaZChyphenhyphenoaPL8wruBtiUK5yUbymhfUCWc/s320/CBO_0038.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Crooked River Gorge</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div dir="ltr" id="docs-internal-guid-7eea7a73-53a2-f256-dd82-702d074c548b" style="line-height: 1.15; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"> The
countdown has officially started in my head. On August 3rd, 2 days
after my 50th birthday, I’ll step across the California/Oregon border
just south of Klamath Falls with a goal of running across the State of
Oregon in 9 days, finishing at the Washington side of the Columbia River
near The Dalles on August 11th. The plan will be to average 35 miles a
day for the first 8 days, leaving a 14 mile fun run from Dufur to the
Columbia for the last day. On other runs like this that I’ve done, I’ve
posted a link to the route map, I’m not going to this time. It’s Hwy
97 and/or 197 the whole way, I won’t get lost.</span></div>
<br /><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"></span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">I
got really sick after Newport Marathon, this seems to happen a lot to
me. I blame the water at aid stations, and especially blame the aid
station with all cowgirls. I think that is the only aid station I took
water from twice because the cowgirls were awesome! I’m almost
recovered enough to resume everyday running. All reservations along the
way have been made, it’s starting to feel pretty real. I drove from
Redmond to Madras over the weekend. That will be mile 175 to 202 and I
started getting a little jumpy in the car.</span>Where Chris Runshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09554455211881718227noreply@blogger.com0