Ike was my weekend running buddy!

Here’s a thought for you; never say to your spouse the night before a half marathon “I think we are getting ripped off by this little hurricane Ike fellow!” The local forecasters were all calling for 5 to 6 inches of rain as this hurricane worked it’s way up though the St. Louis area. They said it would rain all day Saturday and then all day Sunday. However, when I went to bed Saturday night – not a drop.

Sunday morning was race day! I sprang out of bed like a child on Christmas morning. I looked out my window and still, not a drop. About 15 minutes later, I heard a sound. What was it? Drizzle? A Sprinkle? The sidewalk was wet – Hurricane Ike had arrived.

I had never run a race in the rain. Now that I think of it, I had never ever run in the rain (unless you count that time a couple of months ago when I almost got zapped by lightening). But now was my chance – the Lewis and Clark half marathon in the rain! This would be a lot of fun!

When I arrived a bit early for this race, it was pouring. One car had already driven off the side of this 40-acre parking lot and was stuck. I wanted to beat the crowds to the port-o-pottie line, so about an hour before the start, I put my crocs on and opened my umbrella. The first step out of my SUV was in a six-inch deep puddle. I thought that this was not a good sign of things to come.

Knowledge is power. On Friday, knowing the forecast, I googled “Does running in rain hurt your finishing time?” A majority of the articles said it would not. The day before, I had bought a ninety-nine cent disposable poncho, how tough could this be?

About 20 minute before the start, I got dressed, dawned my poncho, and headed towards the start. My dry shoes lasted about twenty-five yards. Funny thing about pouring rain, even at 75 degrees – it’s cold! I sought a bit of shelter from the entrance of a local office building with a few other runners. We looked like the smartest people at the event. As the race time got nearer, I left my shelter and headed for the start line. It was like a scene from that movie about all of those penguins, we all just stood there huddling and hiding from the rain. The start was delayed for about 20 minutes. It was getting really cold.

The gun finally sounded and off we went. The rain was hitting us like bullets from a gun. My poncho was protecting me a bit; this may well have been the best dollar I had ever spent. After about a mile, I realized that it had holes for my arms, this made running a little easier. As the miles clicked by, my times were great. I found a girl with bright purple socks that was running my pace. Cowardly, I drafted behind her and just focused on her socks. I must have followed her for six miles.

I found the water stops a bit ironic. Here we were, getting completely soaked, yet being offered water. This actually was turning out to be a lot of fun. The gusts were getting stronger. Each time a powerful one hit, the runners would all cheer. It was sort of like being in a giant conga line – except without the music.

This was my second year running this event, so I knew the course. But at mile eight, we were forced to take an unexpected left turn. Maybe by now you have gathered that this “Lewis and Clark” marathon was sort of a “retracing” of some of their more famous steps. These guys didn’t explore by spaceship, they tracked across land and rivers. This course followed and crossed the Missouri River. If you do the math; massive amounts of ran plus a big, unpredictable river equals potential trouble. The turn shaved about three miles off of the course. The river was on the rise!

I crossed the newly established finish line (they stopped the race at 10.1 miles) at a pace that would have set a new PR (personal record) for me. They draped the finisher’s medal and a second medal I had earned for competing in both St. Louis events around my neck. I grabbed a banana and my bag of dry clothes from the finishing area and headed for the buses that would take us back to the starting area. I got to my bus seat and a girl asked if the other side of the seat was taken? It was the girl in the purple socks! I told her my story and she looked at me like I was circus folk. I didn’t share with her that because of her girth her primary usefulness for me was wind blocker rather than course beacon because of her bright socks. Nevertheless, when I got back to my truck, I headed back home.

As I left the parking lot, cars were literally submerged in floodwater. Yes, Hurricane Ike had kicked Lewis and Clark’s ass! I, too, learned a valuable lesson about taunting the hurricane gods – if they same there’s a storm coming, it likely is. This event, retrospectively, was a lot of fun, if not a bit irresponsible and crazy! This was just another stepping-stone on the road to Chicago, albeit an incredibly soggy one...

My Inner Voice

God my legs hurt. I mean, is this any way to live? It started again on June 9th – my first day of training for Chicago and it hasn’t stopped since. I go to bed and my legs throb. I get up in the morning and feel like my feet are going to fall off. I go up and down the stairs and I hear my knees pop. Why do I do this to myself?

I spend hours on a treadmill, running mile after mile just to end up where I started. I get no sleep on the weekend. I am up at 5 AM on a Sunday morning just to punish myself more. I spend most of that day limping around feeling terrible.

I enter race after race for what? A medal? Despite how much I train, my times are almost always the same. Mid-packer am I! What is the point to all of this absurdity?

This post was brought to you by the little non-running voice in my head. I promised that if he let me finish my last long run, I would give him some time to vent.

Going for the Gold!

Wow! Who couldn’t fall in love with the Olympics! If there were a more pure form of human competition, I wouldn’t know what it would be! What a great two weeks of laying on my couch as much as possible and enjoying them.

Track and Field seemed particularly interesting this time around. Maybe my fond rekindling with running had a bit to do with that. World records were falling like leafs from a tree. The sprint races were great, but I was all jacked up about watching the marathon.

As the runners lined up in Tienanmen Square, the setting couldn’t have been more perfect. Seemingly a storybook picture for this classic event. The gun sounded and off the runners went. As they passed the first mile marker, the clock showed 4 minutes and 41 seconds. I about dropped my beer! What’s up with that? Do you think genetics play; dare I say, just a bit of a role in getting to that level? You better believe it! I thought to myself, if I was dropped from a mile-high building, I couldn’t fall at a 4:41 pace! – Let alone if I had to do it horizontally! That was unbelievable. The lead pack kept clicking off miles like they were nothing. The winning time smashed the Olympic record by a couple of minutes. All of this in high humidity and incredible heat! The top U.S. finishers were a respectable 9th and 10th place.

After watching this incredible event, I left with a renewed sense of peace and respect for the distance. Life is but a series of lessons, so what can I apply from watching these semi-mortals compete? First, there is only one winner. Did the performance of the other 98 +/- participants really matter? Of course it did! Next, even though 98 runners didn’t get the gold, what an honor to even be standing at the starting line. Third, if I could turn back time, train, and live my life like a professional athlete, I still couldn’t run a 4:41 mile, let alone 26 of them! Finally, since there is only one “recognized” winner, maybe going for the gold in the races I run shouldn’t be what running is about to me. Maybe making the commitment to get on the treadmill nearly every day, then go out at 5:30 AM on warm Sunday mornings and run my guts out – just to finish in the middle of the pack is truly the real gold medal! Maybe that is why we have champions and heroes in real life, so we can live vicariously though their talents and achievements because we may not be capable of reaching those on our own. Run on mid-packer, run on!

Chicago Distance Classic

This weekend took me one step closer to the BOA Marathon in October. My wife and I went to the "Windy City" to run the Chicago Distance Classic with my sister Shelly. We were fortunate that the summer weather for this August weekend was nearly perfect. It was cool and in the low 60’s on race morning. There is just something about this city that you just have to love!

We came up on Friday evening and had a blast with Shelly and Joe. We had a great dinner and a good night out on the town. With very little sleep, we awoke on Saturday morning and headed downtown for the day. We stayed at the “W Hotel” on Adams - I have never experienced any place like this. Completely impressive, it has some of the most hip décor I have ever seen in any place that I have stayed.

We went over to the race expo and then walked over to the Navy Pier. We spent several hours here culminating in the “sail boat ride from hell”! Don’t know if I would suggest sailing on the Tall Sailing Ship of Chicago in a windstorm. I thought my wife was going to knock the Captain out, but we made it through somehow.

Sunday morning was great. The three of us arrived a bit early for the event in Grant Park. Not that I have ran hundreds of these races, but it neat to see how the different runners act on race morning. Some people have trained for months for this one event – you can see the focus they have. Some woke up the day before and decided to do the event the following day. You get a little of every type.

Julie and Shelly made a plan to meet me after the race then disappeared into the sea to 10,000 runners. I started toward the front of the pack and, in usual form, went out too fast. The course was flat, and on the way back went along the jogging trail along Lake Michigan.

This event was special. After I finished, I had a chance to watch a lot of the runners at about the 13-mile mark as they were finishing. If you run and have never done this, it’s really quite cool. All of those people who are running a first half marathon have the finish line in sight. It is neat to watch them as they see all of their hard work about to pay off. I caught a glimpse of Shelly and Julie as they approached the finish line. They didn’t look overly emotional, just like they wanted to finish. They did! It was a great experience. Julie was hooked after the race and wants to run more, Shelly – not so much.

After the event everybody was feeling great. We decided to walk down to Joe’s firehouse (remember that he is a diver/firefighter for the Chicago Fire Department). We spent some time there and then headed back home for St. Louis a little later in the day. Now begins the big mileage weeks of the training program. Forty-one miles this week and even more the following weeks. Fun time is definitely over!

If I could be like Mike!

Finally, I got up the nerve to send the email. You see, not too much makes me nervous, but this one was quite a leap.

During most of the last year and a half of my post-army “reintroduction to running”, I have been the proverbial “lone wolf”. Most of the time during the week, it’s just the treadmill and me. On the weekends, if I’m not racing, I hit the road and do the long runs all by my lonesome. This is one of the cool things about the sport, you can be on your own, or you can be part of a group – it’s your choice! I sort of find the solitude appealing; no cell phones ringing, no little boys tearing up things, and home improvement projects. Nope, it’s just the road and me.

One day, I was reading in the bible (Runner’s World) about the value of speed work. For my first marathon last year in Memphis, I didn’t even know what speed work was. But Doug 08’ is smarter than Doug 07’ – if you want to run faster, you have to train faster. Hence the evolution of speed work in my BOA marathon plan.

I call it “Speed Work Wednesday”. It’s the one workout each week I push myself perhaps farther than I should. I mix it up from 400 repeats, 800 repeats, to mile hard runs. My treadmill is smoking! My boys sit and watch me and remind me not to fall off. These workouts are killers, but although I haven’t taken home any trophies lately, I am feeling much stronger than ever before.

I thought to myself “if speed work works on my own, it must work really well with a group”, where better to find a group than the local running store – Toolen’s Running Start (this is where the Mike part comes in to play). Mike Toolen owns The Running Start. He is somewhat an icon in local running circles. I believe he is in his mid-sixties, smaller in stature, white hair, and you will see him EVERYWHERE you go for anything running related. I ran his “Top O’ The Morning” 5K this spring, he is the official timer for the lead pack of the St. Louis Marathon, I even saw him when I pulled in to the expo parking lot for the Memphis Marathon last year. He is everywhere! He is one of these guys you just know will be cool when you actually meet him.

Anyway, I sent Mike an email to see if he has any group speed works or runs that are sponsored by his store. He sent me a message back that they do on Tuesdays and that they are for runners of all levels. I’m in! The group meets tonight, but it is 100 degrees in St. Louis today with a heat index (whatever that is) of 110. So in spite of my high level of motivation, next Tuesday might be a better introduction. Finally, my chance to hang with real “runner friends” – hope I can be like Mike!

Chicago - Part I

I’m all jacked up on Mountain Dew! The first of my two Chicago visits will be this weekend, when my wife and I journey to the Windy City to run the Chicago Distance Classic with my little Sister Shelly. Shelly and Julie are going to do their own thing, but I, an experienced marathon veteran (yeah right), will treat it as the serious tune-up run that it is.

Shelly Peters, the event-planning powerhouse, has set our social agenda for Friday evening. Her last event ended in me wearing an unmanly-looking pirate costume and drinking beer from my built-in kegerator until all hours of the night. That was before I made the commitment to my second marathon. Who am I kidding, Friday night will more of the same.

Two schools of thought with my wife running this race: school A) I am proud of her for making a commitment to do this. School B) She is infringing on my man-space. She wears my special socks (my foot is about twice the size of hers), she takes my Ironman watch, and she even wears my cool cycling glasses. But strangely, I’m fine with all of that, I’m just glad we get to go somewhere for the weekend!
No serious goals for the run, just want to survive and not fall into the lake. Looking forward to this event for some time. It will be my forth half of the year so far, and will put me over the 250 mile market for my BOA marathon training that started June 9th!

When Lightning Strikes!

My 15-miler was going super strong! I can’t believe the confidence I am drawing from the fact that for this marathon – I am training exactly as I know I should be. I am using my head on the long runs. Planting water in the right spots. Not going out too fast or worrying about my pace. Knocking on wood again, it all seems like it is heading in the right direction. At least it seemed that way until I was about ten miles in to the run last Sunday.

I felt very happy that the sun was hiding behind the clouds for most of the run. Oh, I saw him peek out at me a couple of time on the way out to my 7.5 turn-around, but he was definitely showing me some mercy, maybe a bit too much mercy. About half way back in, it seemed like the sky was getting darker. The forecasters didn’t mention anything too eventful, but it was really getting dark.

I started to hear the distant rumblings of thunder over my Ipod. The sound kept getting louder and louder. It was at that time that the clouds started looking really strange. I was about three miles from home when I realized that I was about to run in to my first big electrical storm.

Here’s the thing about a strong summer storm while you are running: what do you do? I thought that most of my run was along wooded areas or trees – maybe they would catch the brunt of its fury! Not to be! About two miles from home, I passed a woman walking on the side of the road in front of her home. She said “those clouds really look bad!” I agreed and told her “looks like we are going to get wet”. Each moment became more and more serious. I could see the lightning increasing in intensity and getting closer. I had not prepared for this contingency. What was I going to do? Had I lived for forty-two years just to meet my maker at the hands of a bolt of lightning? I could only imagine what people would say; didn’t he know there would be a storm? He was doing what at what time in the morning? This had a lot of downside potential!

Just as I reached the top of Mt. Belleville all hell broke loose. It started to rain, the wind got very strong, and I could see lightning getting very close. Ironically, to take my mind off of the long runs, I had filled my Ipod with audio books. I was listening to Joel Osteen read his most reason book “Become a Better You!” This chapter was on the wonder of God’s creations. I wasn’t too impressed currently with his work in the severe storm department. I had to make a plan quick: I decided, as a runner, I would run really fast! After the painful decent from the Mount, I was running as if I was being chased by a pack of wild dogs. Funny thing about facing death – you feel no knee or joint pain what so ever. I kept running as the storm became more intense. I thought about laying down in a ditch or running into the woods – neither sounded to appealing. I just kept on going! Inspired by Joel, I started to pray, “Dear God, don’t let me get hit by lightning!” I also started to pray that my wife would hear the storm and come out and get me - that was a real long shot. I had about three quarters of a mile left and it had gotten really crazy. It was time to get in the ditch.

It was at that moment I saw two headlights through the driving rain. It was my wife Julie to the rescue! Doug and Coco were in the back seat telling me how they just saved my life! Coco, my soon-to-be four year old asked me “why are you running in the storm daddy?” I didn’t have a really good answer. As I put her floor mat over her seat before I sat down to absorb the sweat and rain, I closed the door and was extremely thankful. She turned the car around and we headed home through some of the most intense lightning I had ever seen – from inside or being out in it.

This was one of those crazy experiences that you really don’t take any really lessons from. When I headed out the door, it didn’t look remotely at all like rain. It just came for nowhere. I guessed I dodged another bullet on my way to Chicago, one I hope to never face again.

A day of Bad Choices!

Not as much humor these days in regards to the long runs. This weeks’ 14-miler in 75 degree heat was nothing to take too lightly. Knowing that I need to be more focused on my Chicago plan than ever before, making the right choices and sacrifices are critical. I have learned to live like a monk on Saturdays – the day before my long run.

So what was I thinking last week when I responded to my sister’s email? We don’t get to spend a lot of time together, so on the surface, getting the families to hang out in St. Louis over the weekend sounded like a good idea. Then she suggested we take the brewery tour.

If you have ever been to St. Louis for anything “touristy”, the Anheuser Busch brewery tour is a must-see! (Especially now before the InBev purchase goes through and they shutter all of the fun stuff). The tour has a bit of everything, but at the end you go to the hospitality room and you get free beer. I would be fine with that part alone – to hell with all of that walking.

So anyway, off to the brewery we go. I think we arrived about 2 PM. The hostess gave us our tickets and told us that our tour would start at 3:50 PM! I am looking at my boys thinking they will tear this place down by then. So we decided to go find a little bar/restaurant to kill some time. My soon to be four year old Cole was not in a good mood. He was tired and for some reason was in flip-flops (his Mother was in charge of wardrobe) – maybe not the best choice of footwear for a walking tour of a beer factory. To make matters worse, he found a razor in our master bathroom that morning and thought he would be like Dad and shave - never a good outcome for little boys. He had a half-inch cut right above his lip. You would have thought be lopped an arm off.

Off we go to find a bar. I had to carry Cole because he didn’t want to walk in flip-flops. He had a washcloth pressed to his lip that had stopped bleeding about four hours earlier. In this area of St. Louis, there is a bar on every corner, except the corners where we were. We ended up walking about four blocks just to end up back at a place that is adjacent to the brewery property. Carrying that little sack of potatoes was killing my legs (and he is the lighter of my two boys). So we decided to have a couple beers. A definite violation of my “day before the long run” policy. Time passed and we went back toward the brewery.

We started our tour and I carried Cole each step of the way. Finally at the end, more free beer at the hospitality room. Then it was off to dinner. Where did we go? Another great area of St. Louis – “The Hill”. For some reason, they made it my choice. And for some other reason, I drove right to “Ragazzi’s”, home of the “Fishbowl Beer” – another bad choice! What is a fishbowl beer you ask? It is a beer in a mug the size of a small fishbowl. You can barely pick it up! So after stuffing myself on pasta (carb loading could be considered a good choice I guess) and having a fishbowl, we headed back home. A bit tipsy, sore legs, and stuffed from dinner – I had about seven hours to recover before my run.

At 5:25 AM I sprang out of bed and headed toward my running stuff. Strangely, I felt pretty good. I was out the door by 5:45 AM and on my way. After my “camel plan” (doing the run with almost no water) last week nearly killed me, this time I was smarter. On Saturday morning, I hopped on my motorcycle and took plastic water bottles out and hid them along the route. A helpful hint here – if you are making marks in the rocks on the side of the road to remind you where you hid the little fellows, make sure you don’t leave your leg on the muffler of the motorcycle – it gets rather hot!

To make a long run story short – it was perhaps one of the strongest I have ever had. I found all of my hidden bottles in tact and clear - not yellow, and felt more confident than ever about my progress toward the BOA Marathon. Maybe I should just live my life the way I always do during this training program. Maybe it’s OK to make a few bad choices along the way!

No Dry Heat here!

Yea, but its dry heat! These words have never been uttered in regards to a summer in Southern Illinois. I’m not sure what geographical feature here lends itself to this super high humidity. We are hundreds of miles away from the ocean. No mountain ranges that I have ever seen (remember, Mt. Belleville isn’t really a mountain). Why then, can you walk out of your home for a long weekend run at 6 AM and feel like you are going for a swim? I guess I need to suck it up a bit!

This weekend’s 12 miler was a tough one. I ran it really slow, and finished in one piece. But, man – it was hot! I almost pulled a “Janet Jackson” and had a major wardrobe malfunction. I guess it could be quantified as more of an equipment failure. I started out the door with a plastic water bottle in my hand, and a “GelBot” bottle in my waistband bottle holder. If you have read my previous posts, I am an equipment guy. If it can be bought and can give me an advantage (even a perceived advantage) I likely own it.

I think I bought my waistband bottle holder about a year ago, nothing remarkable here. However, the bottle that cam in it was a bit on the small side, so I opted for one of my larger bicycle bottles. Here’s where it gets cool. They make these cycling bottles called “GelBots”. Some genius combined the usefulness of a water bottle with the added benefit of a gel dispenser. Stem all the way up – you get water. Stem half way up – you suck hard and get gel (Gu in my case). Sounds pretty cool? It is – when it works.

Okay, I have tried Gu. I like the vanilla bean Gu. My only problem here is that I really don’t know if the stuff works. I guess by virtue of my still being alive, it must. But could this bean one of those magic little pills they sell that they make you think it works, but that it really does nothing at all? Who knows! At some half a couple of weeks ago, I got a sample of Hammer Gel – it really looks cute, it is gel in the shape of a little hammer. I took it along this weekend, when I ripped off the hammer head, it tasted like the stuff from jelly donuts. I thought I should have put a few donuts on a stick and ate them when needed.

Anyway, back to the GelBot problem. When I left the house, I felt a little water on my back by the bottle holder. No big deal I thought, I use them on the treadmill and they are notorious leakers. So off I trot, one bottle in hand, the other on the belt. Did I mention it was hot? I started hitting on the throwaway bottle about two miles in to the run. Sort of like a booster rocket being jettisoned once I got into orbit. The problem here was after four miles when I threw booster rocket one away, I discovered that booster rocket two had only about an inch of fuel left! Can you say crisis? Let me redress my throwaway comment for all of you “Greenies” out there. I sinned and littered. I am sorry. Tonight when I go for a golf cart ride, I will find a piece of trash to repent for my sin. Sort of like a “carbon offset credit” for water bottles.

So here I am, four miles in to a twelve-mile loop, two slurps of water left, and an outside temperature of 85 degrees. Think cool thoughts! I thought about the worst-case scenario. WWMGD? (What would McGiver do?) There were some farmhouses on my route. But who would open their door to a sweaty 200 pounder at 7 AM? There were a couple of creeks and pounds along the way, but god only knows who has been swimming in that stuff. I decided rather to do the only thing I really could do – just keep going! And keep going I did. Mile after sweaty mile until finally the finish line of my front mailbox was it sight. I had made it – I was alive. Pardon the pun, but this could have been a real watershed moment along my path to Chicago! I battled the road and came out victorious! Next time I will go out with a better hydration plan and will leave the GelBot back home!

Out too fast!

So it would be…. As the lead pack and I approached the finish line, the race atmosphere turned electric. The crowds cheered with absolute excitement. The other runners looked at me as I stared back at them. The elites were wondering how this unknown had stayed with the pack for this long. As we rounded the final turn I looked up and could see the finish line ahead. The race announcer was nearly screaming our names as we neared the finish. Cameras flashed as I made my last dash leaning forward toward the line. The next thing I knew, I opened my eyes and it had happened – I woke up.

So it was only a dream, and a made up one at that, but if logistical effort alone could win the race, this one was mine. I ran my first of three “tune-up” half marathons on the road the Chicago over the weekend, this one was the “Joker’s Wild” half in St. Louis County.

To start with, who wants to run a race on the 5th of July? My 4th could not have been any lamer. We decided to spend the weekend at my wife’s family farm in the middle of no-where, Missouri to celebrate the holiday and my father-in-law’s 70th birthday. After the 117-mile drive on our nation’s Independence Day, we finally made it to the farm. Arriving via elephant back might have been faster. Me and my wife, my 14 year-old daughter’s teen attitude, my three and five year olds, and my 100-pound dog Tucker. All stuffed in my large SUV like a sausage from a cheap butcher. It seemed like we stopped every ten minutes. How can a five year old really pee every 30 minutes? Its like they have multiple bladders.

Here was my plan: Take it easy on the forth, get up at 3 AM, drive 75 miles back to St. Louis for the 6 AM start of the race. Everything pre-race worked like a charm. I sprang awake exactly at 3 AM. In the shower and out the door by 3:21 AM. After a coffee stop, I arrived at the race site by 5 AM. I checked in, got my chip, and proceed to people watch until the race started.

The gun sounded promptly at the revised 6:15 Am start time. Off I went on the two-loop, six and a half mile course. I had no real race strategy; I just wanted to see how I felt. I thought 2 hours flat would be a nice time for a summer run. I should have picked up on the warning sign as I finished my first mile at an all-too-quick (for me) pace of 7:47. You know what they say about going out too quick? I have done it nearly every time, normally with tragic results.

However, for this half, I did have a bit of stronger than normal motivation! I was a Clydesdale. Obviously, I did not turn into a horse, but rather than the 40-45 age group, I decided to enter the 200+ pound Clydesdale division. At 205 pounds, I legitimately qualify. In this smaller, 500 person race, just me and 17 other “fat boys” in our portly little division. Could this race be the first time I had a chance at an actual award? Time would tell.

So back to the race. I kept clicking off miles faster than I expected to run. Up and down the rolling hills I went – making the turn to finish lap one. Lap two felt like more of a struggle. Sort of like carrying a ton of bricks on my back while I ran on those little clogs like the people from Holland would wear. I was fading, and fading fast. Racers – fat and not so fat, were passing me like I was standing still. I entered the finish chute as the big red clock kept on adding the seconds. My finish time was 2:00:55, not my PR, but not my PW (personal worst) either (I think my PW was this year’s flying pig half in Cincinnati – 2:02 +/-, but this race was up and down a mountain – but a ton of fun).


So what did I learn about my progress toward Chicago? It seems I am running a lot of miles and not getting much better! I have started to make Wednesdays my “speed work” day, but I have not done enough to see the results. I need to learn that I need to start slower to run faster. It makes perfect sense to me. In next month’s Chicago Distance Classic (half), I am going to run a different type of race. I am going to focus on a slower pace for my first three miles, and then I will see how much I have in my tank. Maybe I should not race the clock, but rather choose to enjoy the event! I mean, think about it… a year from now (or even 15 minutes from now) is anyone really going to remember who won the Clydesdale Division in this half? I have my doubts! But I will remember that I finished 6th out of 17 in this group of gentle giants, dare I improve my standing in 2009?!?!?

Must not have been the shoes!

Well, you know what they say about the best-laid plans – things don’t always work out the way they should. Much like the plan that my insoles would turn me into a rocket ship, launching me down the road toward surpassing my Chicago marathon goal.

It all seemed like it would work. I was finally feeling comfortable in my feather-lite trainers. Thinking that maybe I could get a bit better ride from enhancing the insole, I took the ones from another pair of shoes that I liked. This worked, but could there be even a better solution? Curse you Road Runner Sports and all of your promotional emails.

I just had to have them – the motion-control insoles would be the answer. They arrived, and I gave them a three-mile test on the treadmill. All seemed well. So I figured, this week’s long run was the shortest one I will have (6 miles), so why not try them there.

All was well for the first couple of miles. I was cruising up Mt. Belleville like a Kenyan. However, after the turn-around I started to feel some burning on my right arch. It kept getting worse. Did it stop Doug – no way! I kept on going all the way back to the house (which was also the finish line). After a cool-down and some stretching, there it was – a huge blister. All of my excitement last week for what?

Now that I have a pretty solid base of fitness built up, my perspective has changed. As I wrote before, now it’s all about tweaking and fine-tuning. Take something good and make it better. Well apparently using my old Kayano insoles in my trainers is about as good as it gets in the shoe department. Not a big deal, I guess I would rather learn this lesson now than have a bigger problem down the road.

I was thinking as I was running along the country roads early last Sunday, I must look like an ugly quilt. I mean, everything matches and all, but all of my stuff comes from different places. My visor came from the Ironman store (figured if I wore the Ironman logo, it might serve to intimidate the other runners a bit, at least until they cross the finish line well before me). My sunglasses are from some cycling catalog. I think they are Optic Nerve, not sure if that’s a good brand or not. Pretty cool though, they get darker as it gets brighter. Maybe they should make glasses that get darker if you fall off your pace, it might serve to hide your shame in long races. My shirt is some sleeveless cool max shirt from a guy in Kentucky where I order all of my real estate imprinted stuff. It has to be sleeveless so my Pythons can get out of their cages. In reality, my arms are not really pythons, I stopped going to the gym about three months ago after I figured that maybe I could lose more weight if I stopped lifting so much – I am so confused. I do have a pretty cool looking Special Forces tattoo on my right shoulder that makes up for my lack of having huge arms. Actually, the guy I order all of this stuff from is Ty Rideout and they do a spectacular job at great prices. Check out his web site. Virtually all of my clothing has my Peters Knese real estate logo on it. I thought about having a Peters Knese Racing logo made for more clothing, but that might be a bit much. My shorts were from a company called Race Day. They have a bunch of cool pockets for Gu and what ever else I might be carrying. Sort of running’s answer to a pop-up camper. You can fit all sorts of stuff in them both. My socks were from Puma (these cotton fellows could have lead to the blister problem). Good to wear around the house, but all cotton might not have been a good choice for the road and all of the big hills. I also was wearing my RoadID around my ankle, my Ipod with the sports band, My Timex Bodylink watch and it companion heart rate monitor and GPS armband transmitter. Its like you could frickin see me from space. Thank god I run at 6 AM, who is up that early to laugh at me? Finally, my Asics Gel DS Trainers, tied strongly on my feet. I may seem like I was planning to run around the earth, but actually only 6 miles on this day.

Anyway, back to the blister. I guess on the grand running scale, this was sort of a minor problem. I will be back on the treadmill tomorrow. I think I am going to make a pledge to keep things a bit simpler in the future.

Another thing I realized – my easy weeks from here to the end are gone. I have one hundred and three days until the Bank of America Marathon in Chicago. I guess that is about 12 or 13 weeks. During this time I will run three more half marathons, and six long runs of over 14 miles. This might give me something more important to focus on than insoles!

Must be the Shoes!

What have I become? My life has been reduced to watching for the UPS man to deliver my new insoles from Road Runner Sports (the coolest running store by the way – home of the “60 day perfect fit guarantee” – if you don’t love them, send them back! Take that Sports Authority). Anyway, the package came.

I learned long ago that marriage is a series of compromises. I overlook some things – she overlooks some things. However, now that my wife is a blossoming and aspiring runner, I can’t let her see all of my secret purchases as they come to the house (don’t want her to get any advantage on me). So naturally, I have them sent to my office. Now I hear it from my secretary “what did you order now?” I always tell her “secretaries day is coming soon, I just wanted to be prepared” “what, from road runners sports?” – They think they are so smart. I guess I am off point, back to the arrival of my package.

As runners, we are all in the never-ending search for our “Holy Running Grail” A cooler shirt, shorts that have secret compartments for Gu storage, of course better and faster shoes, and now better insoles for my better and faster shoes. It may not make much sense from the outside looking in, but if you are a runner (and if your reading this you most likely you are) you understand – don’t you? Will insoles lead me to my journey’s end?

I can remember a couple of years ago my approach wasn’t quite so scientific. I picked my running shoes by what looked cool. If they matched my other cool things, then on they went. Now as a “seasoned” distance runner, it is all about function. An ounce here, the right material there – anything to drop a couple of seconds off my time. Think about how tough the cyclist have it. They can spend thousands on equipment - for what? I guess the reason the portly guys always have the best equipment is just to feel better about themselves.

My shoe journey went from what was in the closet, to shoes made specifically for running. Then, once I learned that certain shoes were built for certain runners, I had to make even more changes. After I became comfortable with a brand and a style, then I wanted to push the envelope; I went from motion control plus, to light weight trainers (how bold). Once I went to the trainers, I had to up-size them to account for the swelling on distance runs. Once I bought the right size, then I thought it was hurting the bottom of my feet. To fix that problem, I used the insoles from my motion control shoes in my trainers. It seemed to work. But what if, I asked myself, what if there were insoles that would make my trainers the perfect running shoe? (Enter the UPS man here)…

Maybe the journey for running Shangri-La never ends, but when I put my Road Runners Sports super motion control insoles in my size 12 Asics Gel DS Trainers, I will let you know.

Week two down!

All is going well on the road to Chicago! I just finished my second week of training and I have no bad news to report. My longest run so far was completed on Sunday morning at 5:30 AM. This nine-miler on a cool, June morning felt great. I opted for the flatter Scott Air Force Base route vs. climbing Mt. Belleville on Plum Hill School Road. Truthfully, there is no real “Mt. Belleville”, but this has to be the biggest hill in the area. The problem with it is that it’s about a mile and a half into the route so it feels like it zaps all of your energy right from the start for the rest of the run.

The world at 5:30 AM is so different from the rest of the day. Everything is still. The sun is rising and everything looks so pure and peaceful. Three hours later its all about traffic and noise.

Speaking of noise – I have resolved both my muted TV and ipod problems. I reset the power and the cable for my TV, and the sound came back! My father’s day gift was a new ipod – all is again well in my world!

So here’s where I am at: Two weeks and 49 miles down, Sixteen weeks and 530 +/- miles to go. Week three is a “step-back” week, with a shorter long run. Week four starts to get pretty serious!

Week one was a "weak" one!

"Hello" I yell into the canyon, and no one replies. So if you are reading this A) why? and B) - thanks and hello for real!

Week one is done. It was a "weak one" not in performance, but that I knew it wouldn't be too much of a challenge. It is sort of like going to an amusement park as a kid. You wait seemingly forever in line to get on the roller coaster. Finally, you get on and they lock you in to the ride. It starts out "click, click, click", and you're off! You get excited, but you know the really strong stuff is still pretty far off.

So starts my Chicago Marathon program. I did a total of 24 miles this week. It is sort of a step back from what I did before my program began. But these miles are for real. Now I know I am "locked in to the ride". I just need to make sure I stay on the tracks until it returns back to the platform!

Coasting mostly on the treadmill, I had plenty of time to reflect and ponder about a few things relating to the journey. Here are a few things I learned this week:

Thing 1). There are a lot of runners in the world! Not that you see them all of the time, but I find myself constantly engaged in conversation with them. I had an opportunity to play in a golf scramble this week with a couple of players I didn't know. One was a runner. We spoke most of the round about running, speed work, the races we ran, and virtually all things running. It seemed a lot more interesting than the golf we were playing.

Thing 2). Running on my treadmill is a lot more fun when the sound works on my plasma TV. Watching the local stations at 5 AM is a real drag. I prefer Robin Meade on Headline News' Morning Express telling me to "wake up sunshine!" Without sound, it is not the same. We have four remotes for this system and none of us have a clue on how to get the sound back on. I wonder if the running pioneers had it this rough! I am relegated to watching "Sunrise Earth" on HD Discovery. Great picture, but my five-miler was spent watching a loop of a giant moose swimming across a lake. Yikes! (I didn’t even know a moose could swim)!

It gets worse. I normally take outstanding care of the things I own. The exception to this, I guess, is my Ipod (s). My old-school first one was dropped - it broke. I sent it off to the Ipod doctor (there really is one), and they told me to buy a new one. So I did. It lasted about three months until I wore it in a five-mile St. Patrick's Day Run in St. Louis. Who knew that the Michelob Hospitality Tent offering free beer at the end would erase my memory. I went home, left it in my jacket pocket, washed the jacket, and found it in the dryer. It too was done for (it didn't take the Ipod doctor to provide this prognosis). My third one, the shuffle, was technically free. I bought it with my Amex rewards points. Free unless you consider the 25K of spending it took for me to earn the points. Anyway, never really fell in love with this fella. No screen and no clue of what song was up next. Notwithstanding, it shorted out last week on the treadmill while I was watching the moose on my muted TV. See how the tragedy came full-circle. If this is the biggest obstacle I encounter, I will take it.

Thing 3). I learned that my marathon journey will cover a total of 588 training miles over the next few months. I have 24 down and 564 to go. That is a long way to go! I read in Runner's World about a first-time marathoner who paid herself a dollar for each mile she ran. Then, the day after her race she used the money for shopping for something for herself. Maybe I could by a new Ipod and pay some kid from the plasma TV store $100.00 to come out and push the buttons that will make my sound come back on....

Thing 4) and thing last for this week - my fitness level in regards to distance running is perhaps better than ever before. I can play golf, have a few too many beverages, eat whatever I want, and still hit the road (or the mill) the next morning at 5:45 AM. I suspect as the roller coaster starts climbing a few of the "big" hills closer to Chicago, playtime will be over!

The Journey Begins!

Welcome Race Fans! I decided to chronicle my path towards the Bank of America Chicago Marathon that I will be running on October 12th, 2008. Not much great real estate information here, but for my friends and family who get tired of hearing me complain about how my knees hurt and how hot it was on my last long run, I am giving you the option to read about my tale of woe, rather than hearing about it on a daily basis. The journey begins on June 10th!

June 10th, 2008 – Lao Tzu said, “The journey of a Thousand Miles begins with the first step”. Well, although not quite a thousand miles, my journey began today. On Sunday, October 12th, 2008, I, a seasoned and grizzly distance running veteran (one previous marathon – Memphis 2007) will participate and complete the Bank of America Marathon in Chicago, Illinois. At 42 years old and 205 pounds maybe there are better pursuits. Planting a tree, washing my wife’s car, finishing my drywall project in my basement – too easy. I want to run another marathon. After all, I am a runner.

My passion for running began about a year and a half ago in Miami. While there on business, I looked out of my 28th floor hotel room and watched a couple running along the beach. I looked at myself – 40 years old, 230 pounds and decided that I needed a change. Thirty minutes later I went to the hotel gym and jumped on a treadmill. A mile later, I was hooked. Just like Forest Gump – “I was running”!

One mile lead to two, two lead to three. At three, I needed better shoes. With better shoes, I could run four. See where this is heading? My wife thought I was nuts. As 230 pounds turned to 220, my friends and coworkers thought I was sick. Are you losing weight? Portly Doug was turning into Running Doug!

I started entering 5K races in my area. First one, then, nearly every weekend – this was getting fun. Sometimes my wife entered too. I was getting a closet full of really cool shirts! Then, one day, it hit me – there is more to life than 5K’s. While reading Runner’s World I saw Elvis, no, not in person, but in the race advertising section. His image appeared in an advertisement for the 2007 Memphis Marathon. I would run the 2007 St. Jude’s Memphis Marathon!

To make a four-month long – long story a short one, I trained hard, ran a lot of longer races and runs in preparation, knocked myself out and gave myself a serious concussion during a beer-laden ATV accident, developed a truckload of self-doubt, never finished a long run further than 13.1 miles, entered the race and finished! I finished partly because of guts, but mostly because I could not stand the thought of having the seven-person roving Doug Peters cheering section (Consisting of my wife, mom, aunt, sisters, and significant others) see me fail. At 40 years old, it would be a bit too late to find a new family resulting from the overwhelming sense of failure associated with not finishing… Replete with custom signs (Run Doug Run, Doug Peters is #1, You can do it, etc), neon-orange boas, and a lot of enthusiasm (my sister’s art management degree and event planning experience paid off big), they powered me (or maybe pulled me) to the end.
The 2008 event will be a story with a happier ending! Not that the last one didn’t end happily (I did finish), but I want more of a “hard work + training = better results” scenario. I also plan to do this one without seeing any orange feather boas (sorry crew, but I have flashbacks of the orange boas contrasted by my mom’s white hair – it gives me instant knee pain!). This year I will be more focused and serious. Besides, I have one marathon, a handful of halfs, a 10-mile Turkey Day run, dozens of 5k’s, hundreds of Southern Illinois training miles under my belt, and more basement treadmill mile than you could count (if it’s a crime to like running on my treadmill while watching my 42”plasma TV in my climate-controlled basement better than the subdivision streets and country car-filled roads of my area, then I am guilty as charged). This year I will be ready! Just me and 45,000 perfect strangers on the streets of Chicago, no concussion, no self-doubt, no excuses. Oh, by the way, my first training run today was three miles.