Legacy Finishers

Yesterday morning, the Chicago Marathon made an announcement. They laid out the rules and timeline for what will be the first official year of a lottery system. Lotteries are not uncommon in marathoning, especially for other World Marathon Majors like New York and London. The Majors consists of six races (Boston, Berlin, Chicago, London, New York and Toyko) which are arguably some of the best and most sought after races in the world.

After last year's registration site hiccup (as in, so many people were trying to get into the race on opening day that it crashed active.com's servers), rumors have swirled that 2014 would be Chicago's first true lottery.

I was lucky enough to get in to both Chicago and Marine Corps during their registration debacles last year. Some of my friends and family members were able to get in at a later date as registration reopened or they decided to fundraise for a charity to gain entry.

This year, I've been waiting as so many others have to hear the news. What would the guidelines be? Yesterday morning I received a text from Sara telling me about the Legacy Finisher option. I'd never heard of such a thing. What does that mean? I searched for the term on my iPhone read this:

 

After months of dodging thoughts about my 2014 racing plan, today a door may have opened. Based on the prerequisites, I'll qualify as a Legacy Finisher. Which begs to answer the question, "How could I not run Chicago this year?" I'm happy to finally be thinking about racing again. I've taken a long break from any type of formal training program and a short hiatus from much running at all. With the winter rearing it's ugly head, I've been quite content not running.

Yesterday's news made me think of sunshine, shorts and early morning training runs along the lakefront. Of my mile trek down Sheridan where I wave to my neighbor Glen and constantly update my Playlists to get me through the hours of training each week. Of post long run trips to McDonald's for that damn fountain Coke. Of the friends I've made training and the places we've traveled in the name of racing. It reminded me of my summertime routine for the last 6 years.
Did I honestly think I wasn't going to run a marathon this year? Until yesterday, I might have said yes.

Bus Driver Cherio

Variety is the spice of life, and so, I create variety with how I travel to work.

My routine changes in waves, though I don't particularly relate it to traffic, the Cubs home game schedule or preference. 

When I feel like being an outgoing commuter, I ride my bike. Seriously, how cool is it that I can do that? Surprisingly, I can do it in about the same amount of time it takes people to drive the same route. I get exercise, didn't use gas and feel like a bad ass. 

Then there's the train. The train is solid. It also smells like piss sometimes. Though I appreciate the train for what it is, I think I've worked through any nostoglic connection to it after I hit a million rides on it. 

Finally, there's the bus. More specially, the 147 on weekday evenings. I routinely pick up the bus off of Michigan Avenue within a 20 minute window. More often than seems possible, I end up with a bus driver I'll just call Cherio.

He is awfully happy to be driving a bus which is a pleasant surprise. He takes his role seriously and acts as a cruise director while navigating the bus back up north. He uses the intercom system on the bus to provide traffic updates ("the drive looks like a mess. Get comfotable!"), call out stops (even though the CTA voice has been taking care of that function for 15 years) and gives rider reminders ("make sure you're not leaving anything on the bus!").

The last comment should go without saying, right? Who leaves stuff on the bus? Well, last week, that person was me. I left my backpack on the 147 bus. It had a variety of items in it including my running shoes. 

In what I can only call a stroke of luck or good karma, I was reunited with my backpack the next day. Not one item was missing from it. 

So Mr. Cherio Bus Driver, keep on with your announcements. You know better than I what we need on the commute home. Thank you for reaffirming that there are still good people out in the world. 

A Baby Wipe Bath

Life doesn't always provide the time or location to shower. This can be problematic, especially to someone who's just run.

Never fear. One of the world's modern marvels is here to help; The baby wipe.

I can't say I spend much time walking the baby supply aisles of Target, but you better believe I know what aisle the baby wipes are in. I don't need the fancy containers or prints. I just need it to clean and de-funk in my time of need. And I need it in volume.

Thanks to the baby wipe, there's a lot fewer excuses of why I can't get a run in from the office. Or anywhere, really.

My cousin Camille is training to run her first Chicago Marathon this year. A few weeks ago, she posted that she had taken a baby wipe bath while driving in on the highway to work. I've done some crazy things in the name of training, but Camille, I think you've taken the baby wipe bath to a whole new level!

To Jam or not to Jam?

For as long as I can remember, I've loved music.

Vinyl albums as a young child and cassette tapes in grade school. Then came along the dual cassette player (and the ability to create a mix tape). CDs in junior high and high school. CD burners and MP3's in college.

I remember bringing my cherry red GE walkman to elementary school. I'd received it as a Christmas gift from my aunt and uncle along with my first Madonna tape. When recess time came, I walked around listening to music instead of hanging out with other kids. It was handy on the bus throughout high school, too.

In college the no-skip Discman was a backpack utility as I walked to and from class. Not to mention a great aide as I labored for hours in the design and photo labs.

 

The digital music player invention changed the way many of us worked out. Being mobile with music was no longer any different than moving around the world without it. Your digital music player could be Velcro'd around your arm and provided an hour or two of music (and unlike it's predecessor, no skipping).

Today, the iPod (or iPhone) has become as much a part of the runners outfit as shorts and shoes. So the question of this post still remains - Do you run with music or without? And it's ok if you say both.

Throughout my training career, I've come and gone in waves with music. There's certain activities where you can't have music (cycling, yoga and swimming), some where you can (lifting, running) and others where it's a gray area (races).

My current habit is to run with music when I'm running alone and run without music when running with someone. I seem to get the best of both worlds this way. My latest playlist keeps me moving during those early morning weekday solo runs. Then I enjoy catching up with a friend or discussing our breakfast plans with the CARA training group.

If I ran with music all the time, I'd probably catch less of each conversation. There would be a lot of jokes and happenings I would have missed over the last eight or so years. Those moments created memories which created friendships.  I may have missed an important safety notice on the lakefront path like "bike back" or "group passing" which could have led to yet another avoidable injury.

 So, though music and I have had a lifetime love affair, I'm going to use it sparingly while running.

Morning Run Motivation

August begins tomorrow. What comes with the month of August? The continuation of marathon training.

I gathered a few quotes from Pinterest to help keep training going on the right foot (or left perferably, in my case):

One for those early Saturday mornings:

For those August and September mid-week 8 and 10 milers:

To stay focused and dedicated:

 Running clears the mind:

The Big Hill of the North Side

Did you know there's a big hill on the North Side of Chicago?

Before I tell you about it, I'll need you to get into my frame of mind as I approach the bottom of the mountain (ok, maybe it's just a big hill?):

I'm in the last quarter mile of a run varying from 5 to 18 miles. It's likely warm and humid. My body and mind are probably not at 100%.

My terrain in the run so far (not including the North Avenue bridge) has been flat. I love Chicago for that.

I've spent anywhere from the last 50 minutes to 3 hours running. I'm probably ready to be done. I've consumed a relatively large quantity of water and Gatorade, not to mention Gu. A discussion has already happened about brunch (and I've decided what I'm having). A conversation on the topic of bodily fluids likely happened. On the smell meter, I'm somewhere between moderately offensive to homeless man on the El. 

I'm thinking of the big sigh I will let out as I lay in my bed an hour from now, freshly showered and full of post-run kibble. It will be glorious.

We turn off the main lakefront pathway and onto the spur that goes closer to the lakefront. The group gears up for Cricket Hill which comes into sight as we clear the viaduct. The group leaders yell something motivational about taking the hill so we don't wuss out.

Then we take on Cricket Hill. 

 

photo courtesy of emmers712.blogspot.com

The rationale is that if you run up Cricket Hill at the end of each long run then you'll have no problem with Roosevelt Street Bridge at the end of the Chicago Marathon. 

The strategy's worked for me, so I guess I'll keep on truckin' up the hill.  

Sometimes the hill comes easy. But most of the time, at least in my experience, it owns me. I get to the top of it short of breath and out of gas. Why is it that I do this? Yet I continue to do it, group run after group run. If running it once a week between June and September isn't enough, sometimes I hit it on a Wednesday mid-week run or on the off season as it's covered in snow. 

The duel between Cricket Hill and I continues (and I'll try to forget there's hill's in D.C.).

First Morning Run

I've been thinking it was about time I switched back over to weekday morning runs. The days are getting longer. The weather is getting nicer. Work is getting crazier.

So last night, after I missed an opportunity to run in the 80 degree weather due to a later night at the office, I decided to do something about it. I set my alarm for an hour earlier.

This morning, I headed out shortly after 6am for an easy three mile run. I'm not sure how many times I've run this route, but I'm sure it's in the hundreds.

I jump on Sheridan heading south until I hit the lakefront path's northerly end at Hollywood Ave. I stop briefly at the drinking fountain at the bike turn around and head back home.

I doubt I know any stretch of road better than this mile and a half.

Many people complain about the congestion on Sheridan Road.  It can be hard to navigate in a car. Vehicles bob and weave around others turning left and buses making frequent stops. They honk and cut each other off.

Then there's the sidewalk on the east side of the street. It's my running route along with so many others. It's possible to run from my house all the way to my turn around without having to stop at a streetlight. A unique feature in a city founded on a grid.

This morning, as I eased into my morning routine, I paid special attention to the sidewalk and things around it:

A chalk drawing on the sidewalk by Loyola - Congratulations, graduates.  Well that's nice.

A few seconds further, a pool of red liquid, questionably blood, next to the Red Eye newspaper vending box. Hm, seems questionable. 

A lone empty bag of Cheeto's. Eh, nothing unusual there.

An empty bottle of Yellow Tail next to an empty pack of Camel Menthol's. Looks like someone had a one man party with those items. 

As I was heading back thinking of blood, Cheetos, Yellow Tail and Camel Menthol's, I came upon a familiar face. It was Glen.

Glen is not his real name. It's the name I've given him as he lives at the corner of Glenlake & Sheridan. I see Glen on most of my morning runs. I smile and he waves. He greets me with a 'Good Morning' sometimes. Little does he know, he is often the first person who talks to me in a day.

I wondered at the end of last season if I'd see Glen again this year. He's getting up there in age. I couldn't help but smile when I saw him this morning. He was wrangling his small dog as I passed by, so I don't think he saw me. But I know I'll see him out there tomorrow morning.

Hello again, morning summer runs.

Fall Back to Dark Runs

Last weekend we changed the clocks and 'fell back' an hour.

The hours of daylight are growing shorter each day as we approach winter solistice.

By 5pm, the sun has left the sky.

I change into my running gear which includes a long sleeve shirt, capri's and gloves.

Somehow at night, the city seems quieter.

A few cyclists pass along the lakefront path with their bright lights.

I see a handful of runners on my 4 mile run.


The marathon seems much longer than a month ago.

I run based on comfort, rarely looking at my watch.

Tonight I'm grateful for the stress relief running provides.

Goodbye, Sunshine.

Photo courtesy of Margo Kidd

As training has carried on from the beginning of summer to the end, we gained and then lost hours of sunlight in each day.

A run starting at 5am welcomed a sunrise shortly after it's start in June.

A run finishing by 7am in September sees the sunrise in it's last few moments.

Changing seasons have played a part in cooler temperatures.

The very necessary morning run is now more of a novelty.

Last weekend, following our 20 mile run, we began to taper.

The theory behind tapering is you trim back on mileage to allow your body to recover from the intense part of training and rebuild stronger for peak performance on race day.

Long run distances are cut in half. No more 9 or 10 mile midweek runs.

At this time, after work and lunchtime run sessions return.

It's the calm before the storm. A calm with less light and less running. 

Running in Circles

I don't like running in circles.

Or the sight of tracks.

Every time I see a track, it reminds me of high school. I'm taken back to tennis practice. We did a lot of running. We ran to warm up. We ran drills. Anytime you lost in a practice game, you ran. Anytime you were goofing around, you ran. Each time you had to run, you'd set down your racquet, run through the parking lot, and onto the track. Each time this happened, you knew you were in for a least a half mile.

In our sophomore year, our school built a field house and we had a winter Track team. Since we had spent a lot of time running during summer and fall, my friends and I thought that it made sense to check out what track had to offer.

Which was, of course, even more running. Warm ups, speed work outs, strength conditioning, running over hurdles, running in your approach over the high jump bar. Lots and lots of running.

I drive by my high school and look at the area where the tennis courts were, the parking lot, the field house and the track and I cringe.

So needless to say, I don't spend lots of time doing track work outs.

However, you have those days where it makes the most sense.

Maybe you're pressed for time and need to do a quick, efficient work out.

Maybe your friend Kim A. has convinced you to do a mock Bootcamp class.

Or maybe you're fending off an injury and think the cushy track a few blocks from your place would be a good alternative to hitting the concrete jungle.

On Wednesday, a new pair of shoes arrived at my place. They are the pair of shoes I'll run the marathon in. As a runner, it's awfully hard to resist a new pair of shoes.

Since I was leery about my the inflamed soleus, I took the track approach. An easy jog.

The track by my house is smaller than a quarter mile. I'm grateful to have one so close when I need it, but running around it more than four times for a mile is complete torture. It seems to take forever to get to a mile. I'm already getting bored. I stop a few times along the way to stretch out. I try to focus on my playlist or the college kids playing Frisbee. I finally hit three miles and head home.

Hopefully tomorrow I can go back on the road.

Glen

 For the last few years, between June and September and between the hours of 5am and 6:45am, I run through the intersection of Glenlake & Sheridan two or three times a week.  It is one of the many intersections I run through while making my way to the lakefront path. Overall, I wouldn't consider this intersection particularly memorable. There's high rises and a park nearby. You can see the lake from Sheridan and faintly hear the red line from a few blocks away.

During these early morning runs, I often see my friend Glen. Glen's (the name I've given him, of course) in his 70's. Maybe 80's. He always has a white t-shirt on. He sits on a short wall bordering the sidewalk outside his condo complex. Sometimes his friend, another older guy whom I haven't named, sits with him. More recently he's had a small dog in his company.

I used to see Glen in the mornings at the Loyola track. He would always walk the opposite way I was running. We started saying hi then. Maybe he still goes to the track. I just don't run into him there anymore.

I imagine Glen sees a lot of activity on his stoop each morning. Hundreds of cards flying down Sheridan. The annoying bus announcing itself (this is the 147 Outer Drive Express to...Howard) at the bus stop just in front of his place. The Catholic school kids heading to Sacred Heart up Sheridan and the Jewish kids heading to school down Sheridan. People walking their dogs with retractable leashes. The group Teamsters camping out with their Dunkin' Donuts and their large inflatable rat at a building further south on Sheridan all summer. This is, in essence, Glen's morning world.

Then there's the runners. I'm not sure, truthfully, if Glen says "Hello!" "Good Morning!" or "Have a great day!" to every runner. He may. Or maybe just to the few he has come to recognize over time. Or maybe it's just me.

Either way, I've grown accustomed to looking for Glen. I see him a mile into each run and with a mile remaining. We always greet each other. Over time, I've decided that Glen would probably think something was wrong if I was walking, so I make sure to always run by him. We always smile at each other.

I wonder if he knows he's the first person I talk to on those mornings.

As the hours of sunlight in each day grow shorter and marathon grows closer, I know I have just a few weeks left of seeing Glen. That is, until next year.

The infamous mid-week 10 miler

This morning I headed down to the boardwalk to run along the Bay.

I headed north yesterday, so I headed south today.

The boardwalk went from sidewalk to a wider sidewalk to asphalt to a bike trail to...Sea World.

Somehow, without realizing where I was running to, I ended up in front of the entrance to Sea World.

I figured this run would be a journey being it is the longest run I'll be doing on my own, but I didn't think I'd end up at Sea World.

I've had better runs, but the weather was beautiful as San Diego so often is.

I was able to explore a bit and didn't get lost.

I think we'll call it a success.

Running in the Dark

I used to be an evening runner.

Then I became a lunchtime runner.

Now, this year, a morning runner.

Tonight, I went back to my roots - a 9 miler starting at 6:30 P.M.

I started late because I wanted to run with some fellow 10:30's in CARA's training group. CARA holds midweek runs on Wednesdays during Marathon Training at Montrose.

Tonight is the first time in three years I went.

I was spoiled in 2008 and 2009 - I was able to talk my friend and former co-worker Katie in to running with me. Katie was training for the Chicago Half (held in September) both years, so it was easy to talk her in to doing some mileage with me.

It also helped that our offices were right next to each other.

It also helped that she was easy to convince.

We might talk about running earlier in the day, but around 4 P.M, we'd certainly talk specifics.

Sometimes we'd start out doing just 5, then we'd turn it in to 7.

Sometimes we ran in flash floods, accompanied by tornado sirens.

Sometimes we'd be chased by Canadian Geese or attacked by nats.

Last week, I didn't get up at 5 A.M. to finish 9 miles before work. I went after work, by myself. I found myself thinking of some very strange things trying to keep my mind busy for an hour and a half. The underlying theme though was that running 9 miles alone sucks.

Which brings me to tonight. For the first time in three years training with CARA, I showed up to the mid-week run. I was happy to see some familiar faces there. The run went well. Right around North Avenue, the street lights started to come on. We were not to our turn around point yet and we'd be running home in the dark.

But somehow, even in low light, it was great. The pacing was outstanding (thank you Kim and Carl) and 9 felt great instead of a slow form of torture.

Hot Summer Days

It's July 20th - the heat of summer - and man, has it been hot.

I checked the weather on Sunday and was excited to see that we were going to avoid 90+ this week. Apparently weather.com is not as a reliable source as Tom Skilling. Skilling told me on Monday that in fact it will be in the 90's this week. Once again.

My body doesn't like the 90's much, especially not for exercising. Lunchtime workouts are out of the question. Even after work is too hot. I tried a week of running at 7:30 in the evening, but even then it's humid.

So I did something I've never done before, well, at least not on a weekday - I started working out before work. I know, there are countless people that do this everyday. I could never motivate myself to get out of bed early if I didn't have to. In the last week, the heat has done just that.

I thought about it, and if I get up at 5:30am on Saturdays, why not just do it during the week as well?

So far, I'm enjoying getting out in the morning. There's less people on the lakefront path and driving on the street. It's cooler and quieter.