"Existentialists in shorts," creating meaning on the run

"Running wasn't just exercise or a hobby, or even necessarily competition, for them. Basically they were existentialists is shorts. I wanted to be one, too." -Scott Jurek, "Eat & Run."

Sometimes you create meaning with each step of a run. Sometimes with none. Mostly it's a happy medium.

I start out noticing every step. The impact on landing, the effort to move my legs. The first part of a run is an in-body experience. Everyday mind.

Each step moves further into consciousness. The body starts to fade into the background. The mind wanders. Wanders with the music. Wanders, thoughts flitting like birds out of mind. The breath is still there, and the movement. The body doesn't hurt, yet. I don't notice the miles or effort.

Then it comes back, the body. The breath reconnects, the legs are pumping, the arms, everything is in sync, connected, but different from when I started.

On long runs I can drift between these states--in body, out. On those, exhilaration can meet delirium.

I am running right behind some deep revelation, something life changing, if I can only run a little faster, reach out and catch it, grab it, tackle it.

But it's rarely about that revelation. I'm not generally fast enough to catch it. It's then that I get that it's the first step where we create meaning in a run, and every step after, not just some elusive magical step.

It's the knowledge that two, four, 10, 20, 50 miles are underfoot, logged by will, effort, discipline. I've put some order on one small part of the day, in my own way. I've seen things that no one sitting inside got to see. I've lived. I've reminded my mind-body-soul that we are free and mobile, sometimes. When we ask.

*Co-posted from The 4-1-Run blog.

Don't call it a comeback

After a number of dormant months, a funny thing happened in the world of the Rise Up Runners: a mess of us ran a race. Old school style, the kind where everyone meets and carpools, runs their arses off and hangs out at, say, an Irish pub after. It's one of the reasons this group got together in the first place.

And despite a number of us having been on a bit of a running hiatus, folks ran pretty well at the Denton St. Patrick's Day 5K. You can check out the results here (including the ever speedy, not yet 40 Szwaja taking 2nd overall in 18:22). A number of RURs in the medals or damn near, as well as a number of new RUR affiliates and friends coming out to run and have fun.

We haven't met at "Da Corner" at 5am in some time. There haven't been many weekend group runs, aside from a nice turnout for a New Year's Day run around Easton. But when the RUR tribe gets together, it feels (to me) like we haven't missed a beat. Part of that is because of the friendships that the group has forged--a number of us enjoy hanging out whether or not we run. But here's hoping for more running and running-related adventures coming soon.

One of the next, most geographically common sensical places for our next trick would be the St. Michaels Running Festival on May 19. Take your pick of a half-marathon, 10K or 5K.

And equally big, or bigger, news from the World of Rise Up (WORU). Our namesake, Rise Up Coffee has opened Rise Up Coffee Roasters in Easton. There were quite a number of RURs in attendance for their grand opening this past Monday. They open early enough to run through for coffee. And I can foresee RUC's Easton joint being a meeting place and hang out for our band of boneheads. Be sure to get over and say hi to and congratulate Tim Cureton and the crew.

With all these recent goings-on and exciting news, I don't want you to get the wrong impression. This is nothing new. In fact, I wouldn't call it a comeback. If you think it is, you should just listen to LL Cool J...

Motivation; Used to do

I used to run.

I used to be in shape. I used to seek out adventure or meet it head-long when it found me.

I used to play with the kids. I used to grab a longboard when Anna wanted to go for a bike ride. I used to kick the soccer ball, play tag or field hockey one-on-one in the back yard.

I used to be interesting. I used to be interested. I used to beat the sunrise up and smile at it with my eyes.

I used to have a couch without an ass-print on it. I used to not watch too many TV shows. I used to be mobile. I used to go mobile.

I used to connect towns with my feet. I used to run through the woods like a kid. My miles in the morning used to be a source of pride. I used to be proud. And humble. And not numb.

I used to run. I used to do.

---

Those thoughts and others like them are what go through my head when I decide to make and keep a date with myself to run 7.5 miles on New Year's Day, 2011. A source of motivation to push myself, to fight against complacency. To seek and create my own discipline, to go after the feeling that comes with running and with finishing an hour run on a day when I don't have to run, but I want to.

It's not a long run or a memorable one, but it's a run. It helps me think about goals for myself, for running, for work, for life and what I am going to do to move closer to them.

Running connects me to the road, to the town, to the water, to the trees, to what I encounter on my run. It connects me to my mind, to my body, to my will, to my soul, over the course of an out and back route that I have run more times than I can count.

Running lets me start 2011 the way I want to. On my terms. It is a prayer. Of thanks. Of hope. Of looking forward. Of being present.

I see you, 2011. Welcome. Let's dance. Check that. I don't dance much. Let's go for a run.

* Co-posted at The 4-1-Run

Observations on a run, or, Landy may be chasing me

Sometimes on a clear, cold sunrise run, through trees and fields and along the water, you wake up parts of yourself you can't stir any other way. Not every time, but sometimes. Those parts can't be put into words.

I had some of those moments on a solo Sunday Daylight Savings 11-miler. Since those moments will remain wordless, you can have observations from the rest of the run. We'll work chronologically.

Text from Dominic this morning, who had been up all night with a puking child, likely out. Bieber stayed out til 8:40 p.m. and was another likely no-show.

Used my extra hour to drink coffee and read Charles Simic, who says "Everything you didn't understand/ Made you what you are."

I never understood those faucets that float unsuspended in place and yet water runs steadily out from thin air. So I'm a magic faucet. Which is nice.

The stars are bright on the first run I've grabbed a hat and gloves for this fall. It's brisk and I look forward to hitting mile 1 or so, where my legs will be more numb than cold. It's 5:34 a.m. (adjusted time).

I've been on enough runs that start in the dark and finish in the light where I'm the dork running in a reflective vest in broad daylight. Not today. I break bad. I run without reflection.

I run by Lando's house, where some lights are on and he talked about running a 20-miler this morning, so may cross paths later. Run by Lori's and Dominic's and "Da Corner" where we haven't met in a while.

I get to the YMCA and pull up to give folks a chance, in case, since Bieber would have to drive if he posted.

Nobody. But then it occurs to me that Landy knows the route we are running. He's become too fast and focused to run with us most of the time, but he's a social creature (maybe) and might challenge himself by giving "us" (which is now "me") a head start and running us down like Predator. Or to quote Joel, like "The Landimal."

I'm not ready to be prey, not yet, so I start up Oxford Road.

Crossing over Papermill Pond there is a heron standing in the water amongst a number of geese. I wonder how that conversation must go? Or maybe the geese are about to put a beat-down on him.

As I hit the trees around the Easton Club, there's a full-on owl discussion going on, calls and multiple replies.

Running along the trees on Oxford Road to Cooke's Hope, deer own the periphery, rustling and starting as I go by. Turning into Cooke's Hope, I look back along the road, marking time. After all, Landy may be chasing me.

As far as runs along/around town, the trails back there are money. Being able to turn off the road and dip down into the clear still of geese and light on the pond is sweet; surveying the cut fields, well, it's hard to be any more archetypal Eastern Shore.

Running on the back stretch, a doe is next to the trail and freezes like a three-year-old playing hide and seek, hiding in plain sight. I keep a steady pace and don't acknowledge her and she doesn't spook, we just pass.

I'd stay and visit, I want to explain, but Landy may be chasing me.

Startling a heron and watching them fly off, long legs hanging in tow is a surreal experience. It also makes dogs bark, if there is one nearby at the time.

Back onto Oxford Road, there is a runner up ahead of me, running in the same direction, opposite side of the road--running with traffic. Stride is all wrong for Lando, plus I can tell they are moving too slow, so I head out to catch and pass them. As I get closer a mane of long hair reveals itself.

I pass her around Waverly and offer a good morning and it is. She agrees in a smooth, soothing voice you could just listen to. She would kick ass as a books on tape narrator.

I'd love to stay and chat, I don't have time to let her know, but Landy may be chasing me.

Passing in front of the Y and the middle school, Bickford drives by and waves, probably wondering what kind of idiot runs in shorts in 35 degree weather. Then again, Bickford broke open the ice with a 2x10 in January so we could jump in. Bickford knows we're stupid.

Rails to Trails is my home stretch. A little over two miles to go and a place I like to pick it up. I generally turn my mind off and think about stride and pace. Long stretches of visibility and many side/crossing streets make it dangerous territory for a Landimal attack, but none comes today.

Either I have survived or there never was a pursuit (latter more likely). Has gotten me thinking about the Harrier Hash concept and what a perfect weekend fun run that would be for a group run. File it under things to hit the message board with.

Funny where the quiet, un-iPoded mind can wander over 11 or more miles.

I get home and the girls are not on adjusted time; they didn't fall back. Ava is quietly and feverishly coloring and Anna is playing her DS. Robin is still asleep. Breakfast and coffee to come.

Check Your Head

03:59- Wake to music... What is it? Don't care. Hit snooze. Try to sleep.

04:07- Well, I'm awake, sort of. Don't want to get up but have to pee. Why am I doing this again. Shouldn't have set the alarm. Megan is skipping gym this am, I could always go later in the morning. We all know how that one ends though...

04:08- Grab my shorts, shirt, and shoes. At least running gear is simple. And with VFF, no socks needed.

04:12- Try to eat something... no time for coffee. Grab a Shot Bloks Cola flavor with 50 mg caffeine. Not enough caffeine as I can only muster half a package. The flavor is weird. I think I just taste the caffeine and not much else. How will I finish a whole box of 18 of these. Ugggh.

04:14- Chug a small glass of cold water. Start looking for my reflective vest.

04:15- There is is! In the stairwell to the basement in my "Y" bag.

04:17- Out the door, slip on Garmin chest strap and watch, reset watch and go.
First Few paces- Wow, it feels nice and cool. Little breeze. This won't be bad, but what the ...? 10:55 per mile. This feels slow. Where is my pep. Everything feels tight. Maybe this will be a short run.

Half Mile In- Two medium loops or one long one? Might be better to grab water and a snack after six miles. But not sure I can muster going back out again. Better make it one loop, but I don't know about hydration. It is cool enough- I'll be fine without water. Hope Mike doesn't want to join in at five. Never heard back from him last night. He'll be fine if I don't post at 05:00...

One Mile- Still feeling slow, just a little looser. Where is my pep? Not enough caffeine. Not awake yet. Why am I doing this?

Two Miles In- Feeling the camber/cant/road slant in my left knee. What a pain. Gotta get off Oxford Rd. Just slightly more awake. Still foggy. A few passing lights from cars. Traffic light at least in the 4's.

Third Mile- Heading into Cooke's Hope. Feeling a little better. Still not fast, but loosening up a little. Stride a little longer behind me and easier. Nice low heart rate. All day pace right here. There is hope. Feeling better. Whoah Deer dart right in front of me! Watch my step in the dark on the trail. Remembering an article I read yesterday about boxes and the line. Cool ideas and apply to plenty of things outside triathlon. Every run has a Line I think. Where will it come on this run?

Mile Four- Might try a few loops today on the trail. I don't want more cambered road if I can help it. Getting brighter. Can't see the sun but the clouds look really cool- long wispy lines on the horizon. Corn is getting higher. I never did finish The Omnivore's Dilemma did I? Some pangs of hunger pass after a few minutes. Settling into a groove. Ouch, scratched by a branch on the neck. Didn't see that one coming.

Mile Five- Second lap. More deer or the same ones over again. Twist an ankle slightly around the little pond. Recover quickly. Thank my FiveFingers for that. Takes my mind off the twinge in my left outer kneecap area. A few bats on the trail- cool!

Mile Six- Halfway done or so. Getting thirsty for the first time. Mouth a little dry. Maybe I should have brought water. We'll see how this goes. Through the woods again. Can see a little better now. THERE'S that branch I missed the first time. One more lap around. Not getting dizzy yet- from the trail loops or the dehydration. Thank goodness it is cool.

Mile Seven- Deer again. They all look the same. How many miles are you guys putting in this morning? They never look tired or thirsty.

Mile Eight-Last loop finishing up. Thankful for a trail run- at least part of the run. Maybe tag on Oaklands next? Still not hot at least.

Mile Nine- Try to relax, loosen shoulders, arms, loosely cup hands. That's it. Not at the line yet. Keep an easy pace. Check heart rate. 140. No worries.

Miles Ten and Eleven- Oaklands loop. Getting a lot harder. Loosing focus. Starting to feel tired legs. Feet actually a little sore. This is a new one. No heel pain though and knee is settling down. Hmm, looking like it may be more like 14 miles than the planned 13. Oh well, still thirsty but sweating fine and head is clear.

Mile 11.5- Ok here is the Line on this run. Fighting the urge to walk. Why did I feel the need to run long today? Push through. This is nothing. No need to kill myself heading home. Just get 'er done. Maintain pace. Nothing more. All business.

Mile 12-14- Oxford Road- We've got issues, but I know you well. No surprises. Always feel a little better seeing the traffic light on the bypass before the Y. The home stretch. Breathing still easy, but my dogs are barking. Legs sore and heavy. Left hip flexor is tight. Fighting urge to slow down and walk some. Hang in there. This is the fun part- really. It's why I snap the velcro straps together on my Bikilas (really does nothing for fit by the way but has cool reflective surface on the straps at least)
Home stretch by the park then to da corner. Decide to push it to 15 by going to the bike path rather than turning down Aurora and ending in front of my house at 14.75. More arbitrary numbers. Damn you Garmin!

Mile 15. Hit stop on my Garmin and start walking. Ahhhh that feels better. Or does it? Man my left hip flexor is tight as are my calves. I think I'm feeling the lack of fluids. But I made it.
Walk down Dover street from the bike path and back to the house. Feeling glad I'm finished. Whole day ahead at 6:20, and I finished 15 miles. That's why I got up at 04:00.

Thanks & Praise (for a Sunday run)

Sundays are a time for thanks and praise, so here are a few from this morning's run:

Thanks for the health to be able to get up and go for a run.

Thanks for the sun shining and the odd rays pushing through the trees and dancing on the pavement.

Thanks for familiar, smiling faces and morning greetings.

Thanks for running with shorts, shoes and an iPod and not needing all the crap, gear, tech, and assembly that the cyclists meeting at the YMCA needed.

Thanks for SHADE!

Thanks for the heron (see past post re: the heron vibe) looking for his breakfast right next to the bridge over Papermill Pond (and thanks for the tide being high enough to hide the PMP stench ;)

Thanks for a playlist that employs James Brown and his heaps of soul for the last two miles. Thanks for a steady pace and focus over the last mile of a hot run.

Thanks for the feeling of finishing a run, sweaty and spent and smiling.

Thanks for air conditioning. Thanks for coffee.

I overslept this morning, due to dog, due to kids up during the night, so changed a 10-11 mile Sunday run to a 7.25 mile run, but didn't bail altogether, which has been a late spring pattern if I don't get up early enough for the full run.

Getting out the door at 7am it was already hot. But the thought the epic battle at Western States yesterday, waged over 100 miles of rugged terrain and mountains between Tony Krupicka, Killian Jornet and Geoff Roes made my quick jaunt seem like nothing. That's a solid perspective to dwell on when out for a run.

My favorite running song of late, the John Butler Trio's "Ragged Mile." Have a listen.

It feels good to be back into a summer running rhythm. Now I am starting to think about summer and fall races and trail adventures. Ideas? Step right up.

Reminder from E.B. White

Last night, my five year old daughter let me read to her. I say this because lately she only wants to read to her mom and dad, not be read TO. Yet, last night she wanted to read a chapter book and asked me to start reading one of her favorites, "Charlotte's Web" by E.B. White. Now this book may hold a special place in her heart partly because she shares her name with that amazing spider, but nonetheless it stands on its own as a wonderful tale of friendship.

In the first chapter, Fern, aged 8 I believe, successfully talked her father out of killing the runt of the litter pig by stating "This is the most terrible case of injustice I ever heard of." Her father, Arable, then decides to let her have a chance to raise the pig herself. Later, Fern's brother comes downstairs and wonders why he can't have a pig too and receives the following response.

"No, I only distribute pigs to early risers," said Mr. Arable. "Fern was up at daylight, trying to rid the world of injustice. As a result, she now has a pig. A small one, to be sure, but nevertheless a pig. It just shows what can happen if a person gets out of bed promptly. Let's eat!"

I smiled last night reading that, just as I smile now having returned from biking and swimming this morning, finishing up a six am, well before the sunrise. Now, maybe we don't all want pigs, though I imagine there has been plenty of bacon consumed after Rise Up Runs on the weekends, and I can't claim that we are able to rid the world of injustice, but the point still rings true almost sixty years after it was written. Have a wonder-filled day and go claim your pig!

What a Beautiful Day for Running Barefoot in the Park

Today is one of those rare days that just feels like a gift. Maybe, just maybe, all that that cold, snowy weather was worth it just to be rewarded such a warm, remarkably comfortable day. I am fortunate enough to be off work on Thursdays, and I took advantage of the weather to get outside first for a short bike ride with my wife followed by a run around the park.

It felt good to slip into some running shorts for the first time in a long time and head outside. I initially grabbed some thin wool gloves, but tossed them back into the yard before even putting them on as it was clear they wouldn't be needed. I decided to start off wearing my homemade huaraches courtesy of Barefoot Ted and head down to the park about a half mile away and do some laps around the fine gravel track. As I laced them up, Megan asked how I could remember how to tie them as it must look somewhat haphazard and random. I told her by now it seems pretty easy, but that I was inventing my own style to it over time and playing with different methods- mainly with how to secure the final tie. It is a work in progress, but I am certainly getting faster and more comfortable tying them.

I headed down the street and quickly fell into a nice, rapid turnover and light foot-fall type stride. It was my first run since Sunday when Shaun, Mike and I ran about 11 miles around town. I think I overdid it a little, and I've been fighting off a cold so I felt a little tight at the start. By the time I hit the track at the park, the sun was feeling warm, and I felt a lot looser. After a couple laps on the track, my MapMyRun announcer friend called out the mile and the pace, and I figured it was a good time to ditch the huaraches and go totally barefoot. Next thing I knew, I was running along with the huaraches in one hand and making my own trail all around the perimeter of the park. I felt free, relaxed and at least ten years younger as my toes gently squished into the still cool and wet grass along the Idlewild Sreet side of the park. It was fun to feel different textures as I ran: the cool, refreshing grass, the firmer yet surprisingly comfortable concrete sidewalk, the less comfortable (due to numerous pebbles)and very temperature-dependent asphalt road, the small pinecones under the large evergreens at the opposite side of the park, and the firm, moist sand of the ball fields in the center.

Not surprisingly it was way more fun making my own trail than staying on the gravel track. Besides, though my feet have toughened some since running in FiveFingers on the treadmill, the gravel still hurts quite a bit in barefeet. Every other surface varied from mildly irritating to incredibly comfortable and almost addictive. The small sticks and cones under the evergreens gave me the most trouble, as on one lap I stumbled over a large stick that managed to cut me slightly on the side of one foot and the back of the opposite calf. Other than that, no blood, but I did get a little mud between the toes that perhaps felt the absolute best.

I quickly met my goal of three miles unshod at the park, briefly considered sliding the huaraches on for the short jaunt home, but reconsidered and finished up by running barefoot on the asphalt back to my house. At that point, the sun had warmed the dark, absorbant surface enough that it felt quite pleasant, and I couldn't help but wonder what it must feel like to run on the asphalt in August in the middle of the day in bare feet. But that thought can be left to ponder another day. Today was a special day, better left to reflecting on the sensations of my first barefoot run in the park.

Tuckahoe Sunday

Well, we've been waiting for a nice, dry and warm spring day to check out Tuckahoe after all the snow we've had this winter. Shaun, Mike V., Dominic, and I met in town and drove out to Tuckahoe where Andrew was waiting for us. We seem stuck on the number five for group runs, which isn't a bad number at all. Luckily, it didn't rain, but we sure didn't stay dry thanks to a chilly creek crossing that had everyone struggling to keep from being swept downstream. And it sure felt warm yesterday, at least several hours AFTER we ran. When we ran it was still around 30 degrees and plenty brisk. Still, it was Tuckahoe, and there was a creek crossing which allowed for plenty of smiles and good-spirited cursing to go around. And overall, the course was actually pretty dry. It only got swampy and messy around the creek crossing and the first part of Little Florida trail as expected. I do have some sad news to report to our friend Keene, the log-hopping Wood Frog, as his preferred crossing apparatus was swept somewhere down into the great Chesapeake Bay by now.

I geeked out on tech yesterday, bringing along both my iPhone with MapMyRun app and Megan's newly gifted Garmin 405 watch complete with heart rate monitor. I felt a little overburdened sporting a chest strap, armband complete with iPhone and a watch strapped to my wrist. Amazingly, it all worked and the only slight challenge was trying to switch settings on the Garmin when it got wet at the creek crossing what with all the fancy touch screen bezel and all. I can see why people like to train by heart rate, it give you something other than your heavy breathing to focus on when things get tough.

At the end of the run, most refueled with Andrew's concoction of peanut butter, graham crackers and dried fruit(I think that's what the others had though I can't be sure because I was a little tired at the time and still somewhat frozen and foggy). We dried off and changed into warmer clothes and took stock in the fact that no fingers or toes were lost to frostbite. All in all, we couldn't ask for a better Tuckahoe day.

-- Landy

Vibram FiveFingers: Lessons Learned on the Nearly-barefoot Trail

I first tried Vibram FiveFingers a little over a year ago, after returning to running following my meniscus surgery. For a refresher, here were my thoughts at the time. Somehow a year has passed, and I a now feel older and, well, maybe I just feel older. But, wow what a difference a year makes in my approach to shoes.

This isn't so much a running shoe review as an opinion on minimalist shoes for everyday living. You see, after I took my tentative first steps in my neoprene FiveFinger Flows, I began the slow return to my roots: my barefoot roots as a kid. Funny thing is, my feet get cold easily so all-out barefoot isn't that appealing to me and gravel still hurts a lot to walk over un-shod. But I love the feeling of being connected to the ground, of having extremely lightweight shoes, and experiencing the feedback from the ground to my feet and body that are so utterly lacking in more conventional shoes. It was really fun wearing my FiveFingers not just for running, but more for everyday use.

I would love to say that I've been racking up the miles in my nearly barefoot shoes, and that I have moved on to completely barefoot running to take the minimalist approach to the next level. Truthfully, my feet still are pretty wimpy. They get cold easily, and I got pretty lazy in the fall and did very little running at all. I've even had my share of injuries along the way, a side-effect of exposing my long-sheltered feet to the sometimes cruel, unfiltered world below them.

Among those injuries were a severely sprained foot after running with numb, cold feet in my FiveFingers at Stupidathon I. Truth is, my feet were thoroughly frozen from the preceding bike ride. They were numb by the time I even started running, and I learned that nearly barefoot running requires that the feedback from nerves in the feet to make micro-adjustments to how I land with each foot strike. This is more important when your feet lack the cushioning of more conventional shoes. When running shod, your feet are pretty numb anyway and rely on the cushioning of the shoe to protect your feet. Therefore, having cold feet when running with normal running shoes isn't such a big deal. The shoe continues to do what it always does. So, perhaps my most important lesson on this journey, is that if I was accept that this increased connection between the ground and my feet was a good thing, I also had to realize that it required my full sensory involvement. In practice, this meant my feet must be warm enough to provide sensory feedback about the ground underneath them. Otherwise, I was taking a huge risk in running. The next few weeks were spent hobbling along, recovering, and often wearing regular shoes with cushioning. It made my sprained foot just numb enough to tolerate walking.

There were some other pains before the foot sprain that I would classify as good pains. I am referring to the calf pain I experienced as I began to run occasionally in the FiveFingers and walk in them all day long at work. I have never had a proper calf muscle. My lower legs make chicken legs look like tree trunks. That's just the way I am built. Wearing low profile, flat and flexible shoes forced me to develop these muscles in a hurry. I assume the loss of the raised heel found on traditional shoes, along with a slight forward lean and landing with my foot underneath rather than in front of me all contributed to a lot of stretching and recoil of these underdeveloped muscles. I would ache a lot in my calves after the first short runs. Still, it never felt terrible, just sore, and I was very patient and didn't rush it. Having a recent injury helped since I was content to rebuild very slowly after some time down from running. Over weeks, my lower legs and feet became stronger, working out these long-dormant muscles in ways that I hadn't in years.

At work, I had a little more spring in my step. It is striking how a small decrease in weight at the end of your feet can make you more nimble. I began to notice that my back didn't hurt at the end of a busy day. I am on my feet walking between exam rooms for much of the day and with regular shoes my back would start to ache by the end of the day. With flatter, lighter and more flexible FiveFingers, I didn't have that problem anymore. I think most of this is due to having my heel flat on the ground rather than slightly raised. It puts less stress on my lower back and even a centimeter adds up over the course of the day. I found myself making small adjustments to how I stood on my feet in order to protect my heels also. You don't notice this in regular shoes, but you really can't stand with locked knees supporting most of your weight on your heels for too long before it gets uncomfortable in nearly bare-feet. I shifted more weight to the balls of my feet, and when I paid attention to it I found I was shifting my weight around all the time without really thinking about it.

One thing I wasn't prepared for was how unconventional my shoes were to people not familiar to them. After wearing them a while, you forget that they look really goofy and that most people find them quite odd appearing. So, there are lots and lots of questions, and you end up talking about them quite frequently if your job involves meeting with many different people during the day. The questions and comments were all over the place. Here are some of the more common ones.

"What are those?!?"

"Hey, you have gorilla feet!"

"Did you forget your shoes today? Those are socks right?"

"Those must be great for watersports."

"How are they in the (snow,rain,heat,cold,pool,bay, bed,etc)?"

"Where did you get them and how can I get a pair?"

"Why?!?"

"I had socks like that back in the 80's!"

"Are they comfortable?"

The last question is one of my favorites because yes, of course they are. I wouldn't wear such ugly things if they weren't. I didn't find them at all attractive myself when I first started wearing them but they have grown on me.

After a couple months wearing the neoprene ones and reading more about the KSO version online, I went ahead and ordered a second pair- this time the KSO in brown. I found these to be a significant step up in comfort and flexibility. The toe separation with the KSO felt much more natural to me with the reduced fabric thickness compared to neoprene. They flexed more easily and provided more tactile feedback from the ground. My feet didn't get so hot when walking around inside during the day. They became my primary shoes, and I used the Flows only on really cold days where I had to walk in snow or really wet days where puddles were numerous.

Somewhere in this transition period, I did wear my black Flow FF's to Tuckahoe State Park for a ten mile trail run. This proved to be the site of my second significant injury in my FF's, and the one which might have made smarter people go back to regular shoes. While running on the leaf covered trails, I hit my big toes full speed on not one but two large roots hidden beneath the foliage. The first time was only a mile into the run and happened to my left toe. I shook my foot out a few times afterwards, howled a little, then ran on. The second one happened mercifully 8 and 1/2 miles in when my right foot collided even harder on a large submerged root, and I tumbled over in agony. Luckily my foot was a little frozen, so the pain was somewhat muted. I somehow brushed it off and finished the run, but my big toe was black and blue and swollen already. An xray the next day confirmed a fractured great toe that seemed to take a good six months to fully heal. That ended my running for a while, especially my trail running, but I wasn't done with the FiveFingers so easily. Perhaps a shoe with more protection or room in the toebox might have prevented the fracture. I'll never know, but it seemed like it might be prudent to stick to trail running shoes for the foreseeable future, and perhaps to be more cautious running on on trail with lots of leaves.

I remember the toe healing very slowly and needing to wear regular shoes to comfort my foot and allow for a buddy-tape splint I rigged with with a tongue-depressor and some athletic tape. Good times those were. But slowly, my toe healed, and I was silly enough to give the FiveFingers another try. I am happy to say that since that time I have been injury free. I haven't been running much, but when I do I no longer feel calf weakness or pain. My quads never hurt the way they used to after a longer run when I heel-striked. My feet generally feel strong and liberated. It is mostly good. Good enough to never miss conventional running shoes.

There are some practical matters worth thinking about before making the FiveFinger KSO a primary pair of shoes. They get soaked very easily in a puddle and take a long time to dry out while wearing them. They aren't nearly as comfortable in wet weather. This is less of a problem with the Flows, but they never feel quite as comfortable to me wet or dry.

There is also the problem of odor. I hope I never let my shoes get too smelly. I wash them every week in the washing machine and by then they seem to need it. I use hot water, detergent and Oxiclean then leave them over the heat vent in the morning to dry them out. It seems to work well. Since I wear them without socks, I think getting a week out of them is pretty reasonable. I don't intend to push it. The shoes have good longevity. My KSO pair is starting to wear through the rubber on the ball of one foot after about a year. This isn't too bad I think considering I wear them just about daily. The upper fabric has held up well to weekly washings, and I suspect with a little shoe glue on the bottom or a rubber patch I might get quite a few more months and miles out of them.

The other potential problem is that being unconventional, you will end of answering a lot of questions about your shoes. Most days, this is fine. They are a good ice-breaker. Most people genuinely are curious about the positive aspects of them. But there are days when you might just want to talk about other things or blend in. As a pediatrician, I am tickled when kids notice them and start smiling or a parent asks me "I would like to wear them, but they don't have any arch support do they?" It is then that I have a choice. I can either say, no they don't and move on. The second option is to get into a discussion about whether arch support is truly necessary since presumably the foot is well designed to do its job without shoes. The second pathway is far more interesting, but I don't always have the time for it. When I ask, do you ever walk around barefoot at home I will often get very accepting looks and a happy glint in the eye about the joys of walking around the house un-shod. Then I answer, well this is pretty close to that.

There are other options out there for people who want a barefoot experience while wearing shoes. They even look more like conventional shoes. I have an order a pair of Feelmax shoes called the Kuusa(they are a Finnish company). Apparently they are coming out with a running shoe called the Osma. There is another company called Vivo Barefoot that makes some interesting minimalist shoes, but they come at a higher price.

I have gradually been giving away my older, heavier and more conventional shoes, with the thought of having only lightweight shoes in my inventory. I already warned Megan that she might actually prefer the FiveFingers to a pair of Barefoot Ted's homemade huaraches. Those are coming next...

--Nearly Barefoot Landy

The Tribe

Lori, Laura, Keene, Shizaun, Mike B., Mike V., Brenan, Dominic, and Kathy represented the RUR tribe at a recent Easton 5K. Landy was running laps with his kids for the fun run while this photo was taken. Joel's little piggies got none.

27 degrees. 25 mph winds. A weekend beach house at Rehoboth Beach, Delaware. Seven Rise Up Runners running full or half-marathons, and family rolling down. That's the answer to the question: what were the RUR's up to this weekend LAST year.

The race itself was a blast and marked some firsts and/or personal bests for a number of us. But the race was only part of it. It was as much, or more, being part of the tribe that rolled down there together. That has been one of the coolest things about any number of the races where multiple RURs have gone down together. It's the vibe from the tribe.

This year, there are no repeat offenders for Rehoboth, though there had been talk. But Keene and Joel (or so Joel claims ;) cooked up something cooler for the group this year: The Washington DC Monument Run. Per Keene, it is essentially a run from monument-to-monument, throughout the city, covering roughly 10 miles. We're leaving Easton in the dark of Sunday morning.

Funny thing. Once it was put out there, thrown as a challenge, the drums started rolling. Likely participants inlcude Keene, Joel, Landy, Andrew, Lori, Katherine, Dominic, Brenan, Shaun, and Valliant. Take out the race itself, and the tribe stays primal.

And running as a group qualifies as pretty primal. Granted, we're not running prey down to cook (Andrew does that on other days) for subsistence, but running as a group goes back at least as far. I've been amazed at how this group steps up to challenges, to do something fun, to get together, to make a mark, to share an experience and kick some endorphins.

Look for photos and a write-up from the Rise Up Runner DC Monument Run to be posted soon. Can't wait to get out there. To do something different. To kick it with the tribe.

Thru-Riding the C&O Canal Towpath

The RUR Stevensville Correspondent, Stephen Bardsley, has been at it again. Readers of the Rise Up Runners blog may remember Stephen's Tour de Shore guest blog of a year ago. The Tour de Shore was a more-or-less impromptu adventure, as the rain washed out Stephen's attempt to thru-ride the C&O Canal Towpath. A year later, and better weather, Stephen gave his adventure another shot...

"Let the wild rumpus begin!"

I have to tell you that as far as the scenery, this ride can not be topped. Most of it follows the Potomac river. I wish prior to the ride i had learned more of the history of the canal, and its use. It was hard not to stop every five minutes and take a picture of the rock formations, aqueducts, river, and wildlife.

Sunday morning I left Cumberland, Md., it was clear, but brisk. I took the family pictures at the 184.5 mile marker which marks the end of the canal towpath. I stopped at the 30.0 miles and took some pictures at the Paw Paw tunnel. Across the river from Paw Paw WV., the river winds around at this point, and when the canal was being built, the crew saved themselves 6.5 miles of canal construction by going right through the middle of the mountain. The tunnel itself is .6 of a mile. Pitch black inside.

Bardsley at Paw Paw Tunnel.

I had lunch at 44.6 miles for the day at "famous" Bills Place. This restaurant and general store is frequented by bikers, hikers, fisherman and hunters. I had decided long before the ride, that this stop would be my big meal for the day. The Ravens game was on, and i got a belly full of open faced roast beef and gravy fries.

Feeling good, and the bike working perfectly, my next stop was at one of the primitive camp sites along the river. I was at 65.8 miles for the day, and this seemed like a good resting spot. I set up the one man tent and THIN sleeping bag that were loaded on the bike. I put on every piece of Under Armour clothing that I had with me. It was getting dark by this time, and I was a long way from anything or anyone. Things went down hill quickly for me. The temperature plummeted, and it quickly became evident that with the temps in the low 40's, I had brought the wrong sleeping bag, and was in trouble. By three in the morning, I was extremely cold, and everything was wet being so close the the river.

The morning of day two was rough. I broke camp shivering, and got back on the bike. I rode 22.6 miles before I reached Williamsport. I called my father, and had a bit of a mental breakdown. I hadn't slept, I hadn't eaten since the afternoon of the previous day, my legs didn't have any snap, and my pace was extremely slow. My fear now was that with not being able to make any kind of pace, I would not make it to Harpers Ferry by night fall. I was not going to sleep outside by the river again! I got a belly full of pizza, and got back on the bike. Talking with my father was a boost as was the food. My pace quickened, I crossed the river for a food stop in West Virginia at mile 53.1 for the day. I got some food in Shepardstown. At this point I knew I could make Harpers Ferry by night fall, and my father had since talked to a travelers hostel located there. I crossed back into Maryland and rode the final twelve miles to Harper Ferry. they were expecting me at the hostel when I got there, the girl on duty gave me the house tour. I picked my bunk, got clean linens and settle in. 71.0 miles for day two.

A dry, warm night's sleep at the Harper's Ferry Hostel.

The hostel is a member of Hostelling International. The bedding was clean, the shower was hot, and most of all, I was inside for the night.($18 for the night). I had bought a can of ravioli in Shepardstown and put it in my bike panier. Let it be know that I don't eat canned ravioli, but after three minutes in the microwave, it might be the best meal that I ever ate! I was in by bunk at the Hostel at 7pm. 7:30am the next morning I pulled myself out of the bunk, and made the "you cook" pancake breakfast provided for the travelers that were there.

Stephen marking the Monacacy Aqueduct.

The morning ride was cold, but I took a break at the 17.9 mile mark. I was at the Monacacy Aqueduct, a beautiful spot where the rivers meet. I took a lunch break at Pooles general store in Seneca Md.(mile 39.7 for the day) From this point on I was in the home stretch and the trail was familiar. Because this stretch is so close to Washington, and bikers frequent this part of the trail, it is the most groomed stretch. my legs and shoulders were really sore by this point. Frequent stops were made to apply flex-all, and take an S Cap. I took lots of pictures in the final twenty miles.

Among the views at Great Falls.

Great Falls is spectacular, and there is a restored canal boat in that section of the canal. From here on in, the canal is full of water. Unlike most of the canal which had long been drained and forested over, as you (Valliant and Keene) both know from the 27 mile section of the JFK 50 miler. (I thought of both of you as I rode that section). My seventy-two year old father was waiting for me with two miles to go on the ride. We finished together, and took pictures at the Mile 0 marker in Georgetown. My odometer read 200.9 miles for the three days. Total time in the saddle was 17 hours and 11 minutes. (just over 12 mph pace) All in all this was a great ride!

Two Bardsley's at Mile Marker 0, trip complete. Well done, Stephen!

The bike was flawless, and the tires I chose were perfect. Most of the trail, even the un-groomed sections were dry and easily rideable. I had researched the ride well, and the information downloaded for bikewashington.org was incredibly detailed, and accurate. My only problem was not having the right sleeping bag on the first night. I don't know if I would ever ride the whole canal again, but plan on doing sections of it again for sure. I would like to do the Georgetown to Harpers Ferry 60 mile section next year with 11 year old Joshua (3 days x20 miles). The park service does a great job upkeeping the primitive camp sites that are located every 5-6 miles, with clean porta-pots, potable water well pumps, and most sites even have firewood left at the fire rings by the park service. The scenery is stunning, and the history of this canal is pretty interesting.

In hind sight, I don't know if any one day was marathon or ultra marathon hard, but there is something about the multiple day stage rides that make them just as difficult. Motivating the mind and muscles for the second or third days is a challenge, and finishing a solo and unsupported undertaking like this is very rewarding. I am proud of this ride, and it now ranks up there for me with the JFK 50, and my Tour de Shore, as one of my Epic life adventures!

Point to Point

Shaun, Katherine, Andrew, Bickford, and Valliant after a Sunday run from Easton to Oxford. Photo by Dominic, who got in an early run and then provided shuttle services.

Fall. School. Dark earlier. OctoberFest beer. Cooler runs. Racing season. Fall has always been my favorite time of year. As the last week's runs will attest to, weather-wise, we ain't there yet. She's still "close" out in the mornings. But motivation is kicking up. Runs that start in the dark are starting to cool a bit. The trail running circuit will be on point soon.

This past Tuesday, we were back to 5 runners meeting at 5 a.m. Dominic, Lori, Andrew, Shaun, and Valliant. The first time we achieved that distinction (5 at 5) was spring 2008 and the runners were Dominic, Joel, Landy, Valliant, and Don Marvel. That's been one of the interesting things as the group has grown--meeting new people, mixing things up, and getting a charge when different people make it out.

Sunday, we kicked in a run from Easton to Oxford, saw the return of Dominic, post fractured foot, and got to catch up with Mike Bickford and Katherine Binder, who have each been logging the miles and increasing their speed. It will be fun to see what races folks pick as a focus for their running fitness. Katherine is focused on the Rehoboth Beach Marathon; Bickford, like me, hasn't signed up for any fall races, though it seems just a matter of time.

This past week has also seen an RUR return to the track for some speed work. I think we have Shaun to "thank" for that ;)

Though we've got until September 21 to claim it's summer, there's a change going on. Kids and teachers have returned to school. Long runs are getting longer. Fall is the season, for some of the best running. Enjoy!

RUR Road Trips/A Rise Up Kick in the Pants

Andrew, Valliant, Katherine, Shaun, and Keene on San Domingo Creek after a Tuesday morning Bay Hundred jaunt. Where the hell is Joel?

Running seems to have attrition and burn-out built in to it. Attrition comes in the form of injuries (no one should play tennis and run ;) or a new goal, like say, swimming across the Bay. And burn-out hangs out in the same night club--you've set a target race, you've trained, you accomplish your goal, now what?

And let's face it, getting up in the 4:oo's to run around the same streets can become routine, monotonous. That's why I am glad that we've had a couple things happen of late that have allowed our weekday morning runs to break free of the commonplace.

The first involves welcoming a new Rise Up Runner. I've known Andrew Southworth for about 19 years now--since he was a freshman in high school. He's not someone I would have guessed would end up digging running. He's another "clydesdale" in the RUR ranks--former football and lacrosse rock star. Andrew and his wife Katie got serious about running around their neighborhood to get ready for a spring 5K in Denton, which they both did great in. I said something to Andrew about the Chestertown 10-miler in May, and Andrew trained and ran his first 10-miler. Awesome.

The newest RUR Andrew Southworth outruns a garbage truck to finish up a run around St. Michaels.

Funny thing about Andrew as a weekday morning runner. He lives in Cordova, not in Easton where most of our weekday runners stumble out of their doors into the dark. So meeting him takes some forethought. His first morning run with us, Joel, Shaun, Andrew, and Valliant went out to Tuckahoe State Park for a 5-mile loop and a dip in the lake. Andrew's next run, we cruised down to the Strand in Oxford and ran 6.5 miles in the rain. And yesterday, we chugged down to St. Michaels and connected different parts of the town and ran into Bay Hundred area RURs Keene and Katherine. Our normal weekday runs have turned into road trip adventures. A Tour de Shore.

"Paddle Boy," Joel Shilliday in action on San Domingo Creek.

And tied into that formula for adventure is Joel's new-found hobby: stand-up paddleboarding. Going to Oxford and to San Domingo Creek in St. Michaels, was also precipitated by the fact that Joel needed water access to drop his SUP board in the drink. So the rest of us run while Joel gets a paddle in. I look forward to seeing where we will go next!

So new faces, new energy, new terrain, new adventures. It's been just the Rise Up kick-in-the-pants that I've needed!

Bittersweet: My Race As I See It, Oops, I Mean Saw It

Heir Bieber, Valliant, Charlie Cauffman, and Keene mack some grub post-Eagleman.

The last few races I’ve participated in, I had the pleasure of starting with a friend or two. The Eagleman left me alone with my nervous energy which can be a healthy adversary, or a day ending enemy. I began to talk to those around me to settle any pre-race jitters. It worked and I met some very nice people, as well as one loony woman from Pennsylvania.

I was starting in wave 6, the largest wave of the morning, at 7:27. We had five minutes between waves to get into the water and warm up. The queue to get into the water ate up most of that time which may have worked in my favor. I had little time to think about much at all. By the time I made it into the water they were calling out, “10 seconds” and I had to scamper to the start buoy on the left, as instructed by Mr. Keene. I reached the front of the line with about two seconds to spare and prepared myself for the wild wrestling match that encompasses the start of most triathlons. But it was not to come. In the past I’ve been kicked, dunked, punched, had the goggles smacked off my face, groped, and forced to swallow water. However, the start to this race was pleasant. There was some mild bumping that almost resembled a warm hug. Maybe the racers at the head of the swim are better swimmers and therefore less violent in a frenzy. By the first turn I was in a small pack that forced me to break stride only once and by the second turn I almost felt alone. I settled into a nice rhythm and realized I would definitely survive the swim. The final leg of the swim had us swimming into the wind and in a healthy chop. It was the only time I knew I was in open water. As I approached the shore I noticed that some of the women (in pink caps) from the group that started behind me had made up the five minutes between our groups. I never considered myself a swimmer so I should have expected the top women to catch me, but I never thought about it. However, I did pass a few of the slower people from the group before me. My swim time was 37:06 and I was thrilled with the result.

I got into transition, out of my swim gear, grabbed a quick bite to eat, and was on the bike in 2:49. It was the longest transition I’ve ever had, but I’ve never needed to load up with so much food. Because there were 2000 participants, it was the largest transition area I’ve been in and the greatest distance between timing mats I have ever seen.

Finally, the bike….this is what I’ve been waiting for. I trained the better part of a year to get my bike where I have it. I usually average about 22 mph over about 20-25 miles in a sprint tri. My goal for the Eagleman was to maintain an average above 20 mph over the 56 mile course. For as friendly as triathletes are before the race and during the run portion, they are eerily quiet on the bike leg. One of the only comments you will hear is, “ON YOUR LEFT” bellowed as a rider zips past. As a generalization, triathletes are nervously humble at the swim start (because most of us are poor swimmers), carry uber-egos with them on the ride, and are extremely encouraging on the run. This is when you just try to focus on form and nutrition. However, it is also when all the high dollar “bling” shows up. It is hard not to notice when $15,000 rides by, or when you glide by $15,000 worth of gear. For anyone who has not experienced this you can hear the gentle “whir” of a $2500 pair of Zipp wheels or a $2200 disc wheel (yes, singular) coming long before they pass you. It is bittersweet.

For the first three quarters of the ride I stuck to my nutritional plan. I also kept glancing at the speedometer which seemed to constantly have a two in the tens place. My view was obscured by the areo water bottle resting between my aerobars. Either way, when you ride enough you get a feel for your speed and I knew I had the 20 plus mph average in the bag. There was a section of newly paved road that stretched for about 12 miles where I was cruising comfortably between 24-25mph, yet still getting passed occasionally.

Unfortunately, it was the last quarter of the ride that burst my little bubble. The last 20 miles was mainly open space, either farm fields or water. It simply funneled the increasing morning winds directly into our faces. Each pedal stroke quickly became twice the workload. I could sense the speedometer dropping between 14 and 17 mph. To make matters worse, I could not stand the thought of anymore gel. Just thinking about another swig led to the scent of vanilla in my mind that made my stomach quiver violently. It seemed as if time was flying by but I was riding on a treadmill, working hard yet going nowhere. It was so depressing, it was almost funny. I kept peeking at my mileage and it seemed stuck on fifty something. Over the last five miles my legs started to cramp, especially the outside of my quad (abductors or adductors?). I still can’t figure out if it was nutrition, or if I pushed the bike too hard. Keene seems to think the later. I got back to transition in 2:54:01, an average of 19.5 mph. I was really hoping for 2:45, but that was in perfect conditions.

My second transition should have taken all of one minute. In a sprint race it takes me about thirty seconds. My bike to run transition was a disappointing 5:46. I had to stretch and massage my legs. For a second I thought about stopping altogether. I decided to run nice and easy to see if they would loosen up. Oh yeah, I also popped anything that closely resembled a salt/electrolyte tablet.

I think I slowly jogged the first 4 miles. Then I decided to walk a little. The support from the other racers helped remind me why I enjoy these events so much. I had not taken more than three steps before a fellow runner shouted, “It is waaaay too early to be walking. Come on, pick up the pace.” This got another mile out of me. I kept thinking, “just get to mile 6 before Valliant catches you.” My legs were killing me. One stride, I felt like I knew I would make it and the next I thought my legs might give out. For the rest of the race I ran a little only to walk and stretch. A little jingle from the band Cake seemed to capture the moment, ♪ Bowel shaking earthquakes of doubt and remorse, assail him, impale him, with monster truck force ♫ As I was stretching around mile nine another stranger stated, “come on blue (my shirt color) run a pole, walk a pole” (referring to the telephone poles on the road). This sort of exchange occurred all over throughout the run. It was heartwarming. Mike Valliant finally caught me around mile ten. He offered to run with me like the nice guy that he is and I told him not to hold back. We later found out that our little exchange may have cost him second place.

Somewhere between mile ten and eleven runners could hear a faint, rhythmic pounding in the distance. Before long the smooth sounds of Michael Jackson filled your ears from two blocks away. The enthusiastic party that we saw on the way out at mile three had grown into full blown mayhem for the return run. The party was huge and even had an MC. He was pretty good too. Surprisingly, his comments were all positive because there was not a sober person among them. As I approached and they realized I was the next racer to pass the property, they encouraged me to hit the slip-N-slide they had placed mostly in the yard, but a little too close to the curb. My mind said, “OH YEAH”, while my body screamed, “HELL NO”. I had a kind of fleeting “snapshot premonition”. I saw myself gliding down the cool, wet mat in a second of relief and release only to completely cramp and drown in four inches of watery beer sludge and possible urine. I could see them notifying my wife of my immense stupidity and offering their sympathy. In a moment of clarity I declined the invitation that I hope to hell will be there next year. However, no sooner did I decline before the heaviest drinker of the day approached to offer his latest beer as he took a few steps with me. I only had a few seconds to make my choice because this guy somehow defied the laws of physics and began to lose momentum almost before he started to run with me. And to be clear this was not because he did not want to leave the party, he truly wanted me to have the beer, he was just in that bad of shape. I flipped through the possible outcomes at light speed. Could I be disqualified? Damn, the beer is full, and therefore he probably did not take a sip yet. Would it cause me to cramp and not finish? I could almost feel how cold it was from a foot away. I made the right choice in the end. I could always pay someone to drive me back there after the race, punch that dude, drink 13 beers (one for every mile) and sleep in the slip-N-slide. That little scenario entertained me for at least another mile.

At last, I finished the race with a kid I met in the transition area at the start of the race. Our bikes were about three spaces apart. He drove up from Virginia to better his time from last year by almost an hour. My run should have taken 1:30-1:40. Instead I ran 13.1 miles in 2:28:15 and although it disgusts me to type that, I did finish. I ended with an overall time of 6:07:55. An old friend, Mark Williams, placed a medal around my neck and gave me a hug. Neither of us knew the other would be at the race. It was a nice way to end a long day. I don’t think I’ve ever done anything for six hours, except sleep. Damn I’m good at sleeping, but I hear Keene has me beat there too.

A month ago I would have told you I was gunning for a 5:30 or better, but at the start of the race with my recent running problems I was hoping to break six hours, and as I headed out on the run I was praying just to finish. It is funny how goals are always changing based on new data. On a side note, on the way out for my run Desiree Flicker, my second favorite female triathlete, was coming into the finish and I got to give her a high five. She finished third.

In the end, the thrill of finishing such an event, having my family there to share the moment, enjoying time after the race with friends (new and old), and soaking up every bit of the whole race “vibe” was precious. The entry fee was a rip off, as in I ripped them off.

In the words of Abraham Lincoln: "If I had eight hours to chop down a tree; I'd spend six of them sharpening the axe." I will sign up for next year’s race the day it opens, I will use what I learned Sunday to “sharpen my axe” into a gleaming razor for next year, and I will be under 5:20.

--(Heir) Dan Bieber

RUR Roots Race

This weekend marks a roots race of sorts for the Rise Up Runners. Trail Dawgs in 2008 was the first race for our fledgling running group. Joel, Landy, Keene, and Valliant rolled over to Newark, ran various races, and met the RUR ultra guru Derek. A recap of the day can be found in the RUR blog archives, here.

In my mind, the Trail Dawgs course boasts one of the premier 13 mile loops around. If you poke around the triple crown photos on the blog here or on the TD site, you'll find scenic single track, a sweet creek crossing, a grassy finish (positioned at the end of a pretty mean climb, especially if you are making it for the second time to finish the full marathon!).

Since this time last year, the Rise Up Runners have grown exponentially per number of runners. We've gone as far north as Vermont as a relay team for the Vermont 50-miler. We've headed to Killens Pond to complete a 50K. We've taken Rehoboth Beach by storm for the inaugural marathon there. And RUR's rocked the podium most recently in Denton for a local 5K.

Anyone who runs with us will tell you, this is not a running group about racing. But man is it fun to head to a race with a pack of folks, push yourselves, inspire each other, and enjoy the day and being outside and running. On Saturday RUR's Lori, Keene, Shaun, Bieber, Joel, and Valliant head to Newark. Lori and Keene go after the Triple Crown (half-marathon, stop, 10K, stop, 5K, running the gauntlet), while the rest of us look to rock the half-marathon. AND, an RUR first, Liz Shilliday and Robin Valliant will come out and have at the 10K.

Weather looks warm and sunny. Should be a blast. We'll look for what the next group race might be. We've covered some miles over the past year plus. But it occurs to me that one thing remains the same: we've yet to kidnap Charlie and get him out to a race...;)

A Run in the Snow

You can't beat a snow day. Not flurries, but enough snow to slow or stop work and/or life around town as we know it. We had one of those snows this past Sunday/Monday. And most things around Easton and Talbot County took heed and stayed indoors. Most things.

One of the things I have enjoyed the most about the Rise Up Runners crew is that just about everyone is a gamer. Not a videot (vidiot) kind of gamer stuck on the couch or in front of a screen, but the kind of gamer who likes to bring their "A" Game to adverse terrain, weather conditions, or bizarre kind of challenges :)

For the Rise Up Runners, Monday morning was a call to action to run in the snow. Mike "Snow Frog" Keene ventured up to Easton from Wittman, while Joel Shilliday, Shaun Hunter, Lori Callahan, and Valliant ran to Lori's to meet and see where we could run. We explored the town with the help of Joel's black lab Sampson.


There was some serious high-stepping involved at times. There was some mean wind and snow whipping if you ran against it. But it was surreal and a blast and a perfect way to kick off a week with friends and an expedition. I find I am as prone, or more so, to wanting to go play in the snow at age 36 as I was when I was 6. Glad to see I am not alone on that!