tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11951666570470148672024-03-04T20:50:18.428-08:002008 Miles of HopeHope - Inspiration - A PromiseLetsRollhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02704108831138764554noreply@blogger.comBlogger48125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1195166657047014867.post-85488624132176601382018-03-02T15:56:00.000-08:002018-10-09T19:40:29.639-07:00Rolling to Boston: Part 1<span style="color: #3d85c6;"><span style="font-size: large;"><i>A little catching up on my events.</i></span></span><br />
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Last year I entered the Fort Lauderdale A1A Marathon for the first time. It was a lot of fun, a Boston qualifying time, and a personal record for me. I decided to do the race again this year and signed up a year ago, right after last year's race.<br />
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I have learned that I can perform much better in a race if I can dedicate some time the week prior to long distance riding for a few days prior to the race. Last year I spent a few days working out on the Withlacoochie Trail in Brooksville, FL, prior to the A1A Marathon. Before we drove home last year, we took a day trip to Key West from our hotel near Miami.<br />
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Along most of the highway through the Keys, there exists a bike path. I reasoned that a ride from Key West to Key Largo, roughly 100 miles, spread over several days, would be just the right pre-race tune-up. Or at least that was the plan.<br />
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I did a bit more research, made some hotel reservations, and began the planning to 'ride the Keys' over a year ago.<br />
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Fast forward to last October at the Marine Corps Marathon. Always my favorite event. After my best MCM in 2016, last year was a lackluster performance on my part. I blamed it on the brutal heat during the training season last summer.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJ9x3qAgta-_PuqK-Oole4dUs7lpxUzQG4lSoEOVFhMIrscW3kHCYQFv0twKpK9r4Ai97hYRq1F_zIJZx4Fyz1yKGTxbpWbmKsG2AXIrBQuH8RwP3YJeXebYQ2wAe54CqG6oc_Zsst0e2h/s1600/DSC_2896.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1060" data-original-width="1600" height="263" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJ9x3qAgta-_PuqK-Oole4dUs7lpxUzQG4lSoEOVFhMIrscW3kHCYQFv0twKpK9r4Ai97hYRq1F_zIJZx4Fyz1yKGTxbpWbmKsG2AXIrBQuH8RwP3YJeXebYQ2wAe54CqG6oc_Zsst0e2h/s400/DSC_2896.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>2017 Marine Corps Marathon -Kathryn Palmer photo</i></td></tr>
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The next day, I think the real reason was beginning to manifest itself. I was coming down with a <i>nasty</i> UTI. This bug took me several weeks to shake. It gave me a good scare. There were times last November when I was feeling veerrrry mortal.<br />
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<i><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="color: #3d85c6;">Heading to Boston</span> </span></i><br />
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It was during this period of recuperation that I received an email from the Boston Athletic Association announcing that I was entered into the 2018 Boston Marathon. After several years of being turned down, I didn't believe it was true. I double checked the sender's email address. I thought it had to be a hoax. For several weeks I watched my email, expecting to find some sort of retraction. It didn't come. This was real.<br />
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Working out was difficult. My illness had left me weak. But after a few weak attempts, things started falling into place. Then the cold weather set in. And it stayed. The few times I dared a workout, I came home with my hands completely numb. When we got a break in the weather, I would get in a few promising workouts and feel more optimistic.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Not a good day for a workout :( -Sally Kelly photo</i></td></tr>
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But through the month of January bad weather and bad circumstances kept me indoors more than I felt comfortable when I considered me upcoming A1A Marathon and the planned ride of the Florida Keys. More than once I considered canceling the trip to focus on training for Boston closer to home. In the end, I needed a race. And I needed a big workout surge to get my Boston training into high gear.<br />
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<span style="color: #3d85c6;"><span style="font-size: large;"><i>By way of the Keys</i></span></span><br />
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I checked weather before we went south. It looked like it would be mid-60s at night and mid-70s during the day with winds from the south. So we drove the old van with the broken AC. <i>Bad idea!</i> <br />
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It turned out south FL was on the verge of a heatwave and a drought for this time of year. Our first night in Key West we road our bikes around the island. I hoped this would allow for a little sightseeing and a good workout to warm up for the long rides through the Keys. <br />
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The wind was blasting 15 mph from the east. For that night’s outbound leg, we had a good ride. For the 4 miles back to our hotel, the wind and the heat (yes I said night) kicked my butt. I knew that was bad news for my planned daytime rides. <br />
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The second day was planned for sightseeing. During breakfast we made a decision to get me started on riding riding through the Keys from west to east. It looked like 50 miles in one day, against a 15 mph headwind, was not going to be feasible.<br />
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With the late change of plans it was almost noon before we got the handbike ready and I started on the trail heading east. Right away I started overheating and I had to apply water to myself. The headwind was brutal but it and the water from my Camelbak were the only things keeping me from overheating.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZ-lvIjn6sDHxfxqBb96qaB3xIpSlxFzqHPdyfc_YfWcWd1Kg4jhe9wCh_s0a7PPsUHTvIL31HIp2-Rxug_m_SiCDN85BSxii7sXDHi6GvXsitr69xs6t_6kYDhzBmVNm1Wq-XKMtM-os4/s1600/DSC_3020.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1060" data-original-width="1600" height="263" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZ-lvIjn6sDHxfxqBb96qaB3xIpSlxFzqHPdyfc_YfWcWd1Kg4jhe9wCh_s0a7PPsUHTvIL31HIp2-Rxug_m_SiCDN85BSxii7sXDHi6GvXsitr69xs6t_6kYDhzBmVNm1Wq-XKMtM-os4/s400/DSC_3020.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Florida's Overseas Heritage Trail -Sally Kelly photo</i></td></tr>
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As it got hotter in the afternoon I had to stop about every mile where I could find a patch of shade and cool down. I plugged along all afternoon. Sally picked me up at Cudjoe Key after only about 17 miles. <br />
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After that experience with the killer headwind and the stinging sunshine, I decided to scrap the idea of riding the entire length of the Keys. There were other factors that shaped the decision. For about one-third of the length of the Keys the trail I hoped to ride was not available. Mostly through the middle Keys where the Irma damage was almost total in places. Many places the trail had never been built yet, requiring riding on the roadway. Other places bridge repairs made even that option impossible. The excessively high volume of traffic, particularly heavy (read “wide”) construction vehicles made it unnerving at times.<br />
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So my third day, which I had planned to be my first long ride, I decided to ride the lower Keys again and to see how far I could ride by leaving earlier during the day. Riding east to west with a tailwind was not an option because I needed the wind for cooling. It felt a lot better in the AM but the headwind was still brutal. <br />
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I failed to study the local fauna before my ride. I kept seeing a lot of hungry-looking iguanas about the size of my arm scurrying about as I rode. Sitting so low to the ground made me feel more than a little vulnerable. When I would stop in the shade to cool down, I kept looking around in the swamps for ‘gators. A friend reminded my that alligators don't live in salt water environments. Always the skeptic, I looked it up. She was right. The threat wasn't alligators. It was CROCODILES!!! The American Crocodile to be exact. That fact got my heart rate up in the VOmax range!<br />
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The third day I made it 26 miles and as far as Big Pine Key. Sally picked me up that evening hot, tired, sunburned, sore, and wore slam out. We discovered the cushion on my backrest had migrated over to one side, exposing the sharp edge of the seat back shell. My shoulder had rubbed that edge for two days and it made a nasty raw wound on my shoulder blade. My SPF 30 sunscreen was totally inadequate. Facing east all day left me sunburned on my right side.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjojglr6vFIr4mhpp1FDenlGw_ApqT_m_H9Y-4Gw4PL1wXG3PBCEWUJ1zmUnTwrE2L7ia6znKAdbn4-QV-s8AL-p10zLa-a7xi-kJsE3PH1r9L3horRJ8JDAJTO11BQ3gjuzsN3gFJcj8Fc/s1600/IMG_0776.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1114" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjojglr6vFIr4mhpp1FDenlGw_ApqT_m_H9Y-4Gw4PL1wXG3PBCEWUJ1zmUnTwrE2L7ia6znKAdbn4-QV-s8AL-p10zLa-a7xi-kJsE3PH1r9L3horRJ8JDAJTO11BQ3gjuzsN3gFJcj8Fc/s400/IMG_0776.jpg" width="277" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>After a few days of healing my chaffed shoulder blade was looking better</i></td></tr>
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The one thing that did go right for me was Sally. Even though she was still recovering from a nasty bronchitis, she was right there making things happen for me. She picked out a fun restaurant, the Sunset Grill, where we enjoyed a nice Valentine's dinner.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh98Ip4WABTArkYP2PKWCZAn8-HEcMuI7fP3XA0BbP-mkrXWvo7voiGazsc1nBJiHVHSypk-5eKMbNAHoo6XFm3xK2Y3U_CCl9vcrZOjF75muBiqG-EgbqKF5UEuhuXqDLUC51YdKWmT-QF/s1600/DSC_3025.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1060" data-original-width="1600" height="263" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh98Ip4WABTArkYP2PKWCZAn8-HEcMuI7fP3XA0BbP-mkrXWvo7voiGazsc1nBJiHVHSypk-5eKMbNAHoo6XFm3xK2Y3U_CCl9vcrZOjF75muBiqG-EgbqKF5UEuhuXqDLUC51YdKWmT-QF/s400/DSC_3025.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Our view from the Sunset Grill lived up to its name -Sally Kelly photo</i></td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><i><span style="color: #3d85c6;">The A1A</span> </i></span><br />
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The original plan was to ride upper Keys, from Marathon to Key Largo of the fourth day. I hate to admit defeat but it was time to rest, heal, and get ready for the A1A Marathon the following weekend. We slept in late and set back toward Fort Lauderdale on the fourth day.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjM8xUdRQTJGwnGV4i78RO-cJyKLUCdgIeZowuN0P7sCLiIojki1cxusT_wfNt4Ep7mCt5uKsPQ-zrEZMtMgUq1nFJfCDRq4KOg7kzieFZx4qk68D6iqj2PNa-4e1GbK7cG4Z0BUR7nMkxA/s1600/DSC_3044.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1060" data-original-width="1600" height="263" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjM8xUdRQTJGwnGV4i78RO-cJyKLUCdgIeZowuN0P7sCLiIojki1cxusT_wfNt4Ep7mCt5uKsPQ-zrEZMtMgUq1nFJfCDRq4KOg7kzieFZx4qk68D6iqj2PNa-4e1GbK7cG4Z0BUR7nMkxA/s400/DSC_3044.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>It was a big race this year. LOTS of half-marathoners -Sally Kelly photo</i></td></tr>
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The A1A Marathon was a lot of fun. Two of the four hand crank division were from Carteret County, Bruce Newman and myself. A year ago this race was a PR for me. I knew with my training challenges that would not be the case again. I was just hoping to finish in 3 hours. I was concerned with my week’s struggles with the heat and the heat that I might not finish in 4 hours.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXnlUTz-447n5dPReUd0j-zeL0LWSsOFfgLNMXCDOcjHtH18uMklZkyw5rM8_iQtg1FQO2Hm_dRchH89UkzWTEdR6Gm7_SSFcEMnfoGqHNu7PAl7mvjv7Kj-dFOwl34kLRhk2IJZYywARA/s1600/DSC_3071+%25281%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="958" data-original-width="1600" height="238" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXnlUTz-447n5dPReUd0j-zeL0LWSsOFfgLNMXCDOcjHtH18uMklZkyw5rM8_iQtg1FQO2Hm_dRchH89UkzWTEdR6Gm7_SSFcEMnfoGqHNu7PAl7mvjv7Kj-dFOwl34kLRhk2IJZYywARA/s400/DSC_3071+%25281%2529.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i> Two of the four hand crank participants were from Carteret County! From left, Sally and Paul Kelly, Bruce and Lish Newman </i></td></tr>
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The other challenge with the A1A Marathon is that for the last four miles, the course is congested with the slower part of the half-marathon field. The weather forecast was for upper 60s at the time of the start and getting up to the 80s by noon. The race starts before daylight. One part of the course is pitch black with no lights. I learned my lesson last year to bring a headlight for my bike. <br />
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The bars in Fort Lauderdale stay open until 4AM. When you are making your way to the starting line downtown, you're faced with an added challenge: trying not to get run over by the drunks leaving the bars.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiH-8twmyTfjwyLLAA8u84YYtanqvMwas3gEb3C8-nc1NDYFQxW4JkqB5HmMXdk3VyDEbPwC_B2zliA_5SBcMMYCF-_ZzbA6lYXYfRXEe6-5kKD5XA7qJDE4TYJX-WOUxBjU71tsRAd-xLj/s1600/DSC_3053.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1060" data-original-width="1600" height="263" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiH-8twmyTfjwyLLAA8u84YYtanqvMwas3gEb3C8-nc1NDYFQxW4JkqB5HmMXdk3VyDEbPwC_B2zliA_5SBcMMYCF-_ZzbA6lYXYfRXEe6-5kKD5XA7qJDE4TYJX-WOUxBjU71tsRAd-xLj/s400/DSC_3053.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Four hand crank participants survived Fort Lauderdale's 4AM bar-emptying and made it to the starting line intact -Sally Kelly photo</i></td></tr>
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So when we started, I felt much better than I had in the previous days’ heat. Still, after only about a mile, I was beginning to feel quite hot. I began feeling a little dampness on my face and realized it was starting to rain a light, misty rain. The mist felt good and started cooling me down. I met Sally about mile 13 and refueled with a Snickers and a Red Bull. She put a wet wrap around my neck which did the trick to keep me from overheating. Dark clouds came over and for nearly the entire race we had a nice shade from the threatening-looking skies.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>A1A Marathon mile 13.1 timing point -Sally Kelly photo</i></td></tr>
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I picked up a motorcycle escort just after mile 13. On the return leg of the race the lead runner started catching me and my escort left when I fell behind the lead runners motorcycle. Sally splashed some water on me as I passed by on the return leg. I picked up my pace and the motorcycle had to drop back to cover for the lead runner. With no one taking point for me, I slowed again as I began getting bogged in the back of the half-marathon field.<br />
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The lead runner caught me and passed me at about mile 23. Since he had a motorcycle escort, all the sudden I could pick up my pace. I no longer had to work my way around the slower runners. Pretty quickly I passed the lead runner but I was back among the slower half marathoners.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZ8trto6kx64UyygFv5NBOORi1Fwiq5Uae22n4teRblwL0QaJ5W2Ja7L8OYhfuTTPiy7GksCDGk2FaRdeQxiTFfWmSj_Il5LKYJO-1O8eyYeeXxYzbmQcySBy9dAQqH87r0HzqVusH4nGU/s1600/DSC_3066.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1030" data-original-width="1600" height="257" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZ8trto6kx64UyygFv5NBOORi1Fwiq5Uae22n4teRblwL0QaJ5W2Ja7L8OYhfuTTPiy7GksCDGk2FaRdeQxiTFfWmSj_Il5LKYJO-1O8eyYeeXxYzbmQcySBy9dAQqH87r0HzqVusH4nGU/s400/DSC_3066.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Mile 26. Making it back through the field of half marathoners -Sally Kelly photo</i></td></tr>
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At about mile 24 a pair of bicyclists dropped in front of me and began helping me work through the runners. My “wingmen” took me all the way to the finish where I finished in just under 3 hours. It was not my best effort, but I was very happy nonetheless. Enjoy my video on fb (the video comes up muted. Turn up the volume and watch full screen!):<br />
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The race offered awards to the top three in each bracket. Since one of the wheelers was a woman, I managed to bring home a third place trophy!<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlhy2YboJFa8KWlB8gD9NsV_30R_AmI6ocWZE6cYi3RK8dWXc64J7G0os9ZVhif636RXrCLJdf7qFmBbGuXiVrsFVQTeyHAYR0JoxUX0fFryQ3e7-2OhS-7AFnPJO242brYR2UjhojoXcl/s1600/DSC_3072.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1060" data-original-width="1600" height="263" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlhy2YboJFa8KWlB8gD9NsV_30R_AmI6ocWZE6cYi3RK8dWXc64J7G0os9ZVhif636RXrCLJdf7qFmBbGuXiVrsFVQTeyHAYR0JoxUX0fFryQ3e7-2OhS-7AFnPJO242brYR2UjhojoXcl/s400/DSC_3072.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Carteret County winners! Second & Third place Male hand crank wheelchair.</i></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><i><span style="color: #3d85c6;">Roll with me to Boston</span> </i></span><br />
<br />
It was a great weekend and a lot of fun but mostly a much needed boost to my Boston Marathon training. One thing I've learned over a decade of handcycling is that training needs to have quality. To motivate myself during difficult training times I dedicate my efforts to something bigger. Please help out by support our cause, <span style="color: red;"><a href="http://www.hopeforthewarriors.org/" target="_blank">Hope For The Warriors</a></span>. Use our secure online donation page to contribute to this great cause. <a href="http://www.active.com/donate/2008Miles" target="_new">2008 Miles of Hope</a>.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgax9bIzhXwKwrINFZCpH6Y5HrmPPGNDg4zou53S7E_mI0NpSuXOSYBt_dY4DiXHDJ9F-QjRKSOK3sqmdGpA1vu9Zq9BPoAgH5HGZBtuNpYS5CT2lV2HmPejNNmV_BxnFD2if6rhym850dF/s1600/DSC_3042.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1060" data-original-width="1600" height="263" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgax9bIzhXwKwrINFZCpH6Y5HrmPPGNDg4zou53S7E_mI0NpSuXOSYBt_dY4DiXHDJ9F-QjRKSOK3sqmdGpA1vu9Zq9BPoAgH5HGZBtuNpYS5CT2lV2HmPejNNmV_BxnFD2if6rhym850dF/s400/DSC_3042.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Run for Hope -Sally Kelly photo</i></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
And follow me as we roll on to Boston.<br />
<br />
-Lets Roll! LetsRollhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02704108831138764554noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1195166657047014867.post-86968163496340511362016-10-24T18:20:00.000-07:002016-12-23T13:22:10.661-08:00<span style="color: #bf9000;"><i><span style="font-size: x-large;">Turning 100</span></i></span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: #3d85c6;"><i><span style="font-size: large;">From spectator to marathoner</span></i></span><br />
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhM0SxKeOgrxBwlUuJmuJepmzYnYL9vujVuaMRO8B5oapg8r6dYPl0Ow2Ysz15ac7cqQdrNOtD0cgJOpm_EWHIHohfmNkkQh6n59tZ4BUpOvdZOXGlPVvVBG5XB5ts9ZCh0vgKKVHWAQ7pF/s1600/DSC_0109.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhM0SxKeOgrxBwlUuJmuJepmzYnYL9vujVuaMRO8B5oapg8r6dYPl0Ow2Ysz15ac7cqQdrNOtD0cgJOpm_EWHIHohfmNkkQh6n59tZ4BUpOvdZOXGlPVvVBG5XB5ts9ZCh0vgKKVHWAQ7pF/s200/DSC_0109.jpg" width="118" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>"I think I can do that"</i></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
In 2006 I had no idea I could do a marathon. The thought was as foreign to me as flying to Pluto. <br />
<br />
My niece was running in the Marine Corps Marathon 10 years
ago this weekend. I sat on the corner of Wilson Boulevard and Lynn
Street in Rosslyn, VA. I was waiting for the Marathon to start. I was
positioned at mile 1, hoping to catch a glimpse of her as she ran by.<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiODaFcrWYklyrN0clMzLUj7L9m9_pFBqS8-SY7tmXCFZmnulMA9mt6EOWrH4zKMDmDqy-U1X6AQ37S8oiYC2O54eeb9vs2jE887mUlsGzzqIW6f6cYJXfGlcPKlP-NctVUo88mC9vdiaz7/s1600/DSC_0099+%25281%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="176" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiODaFcrWYklyrN0clMzLUj7L9m9_pFBqS8-SY7tmXCFZmnulMA9mt6EOWrH4zKMDmDqy-U1X6AQ37S8oiYC2O54eeb9vs2jE887mUlsGzzqIW6f6cYJXfGlcPKlP-NctVUo88mC9vdiaz7/s320/DSC_0099+%25281%2529.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Spotting my niece in the runners</i></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
I saw several athletes pass by on handcycles, or crank wheelchairs, they are sometimes called. I said to myself, “I think I can do that!”<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMrcLbQOy10HGOKGBu0UL43-jsOF_0TmLivR5s2aikAGXK_9X3MQe7R5p004SmOVDQWUyGpRUuvChVfT6NEznZE-eU7t4V2xazeBzzjQyghSDowiFijUbn6WOC6GYkx8ehEkvHwi0xPbPJ/s1600/DSC_0078.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="159" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMrcLbQOy10HGOKGBu0UL43-jsOF_0TmLivR5s2aikAGXK_9X3MQe7R5p004SmOVDQWUyGpRUuvChVfT6NEznZE-eU7t4V2xazeBzzjQyghSDowiFijUbn6WOC6GYkx8ehEkvHwi0xPbPJ/s320/DSC_0078.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Crank wheelchairs</i></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
My niece and I made a pact that evening over dinner to be back the next year. Running the People’s Marathon together.<br />
<br />
I went home and began training. And training. And training. I also began looking for a cause. Something to benefit casualties of the post-9.11 war. In March of 2007 I took part in my first race. It was a local 10K. I was hooked.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirmwKnTbqCe8foxLgILHr3Mi7OgitBQancH-FVpa81caz6nbsR0_cQIMU4k2oh-eYoe_52T55GNwhthZ4B8-y7j_YtkleHLNHQCqqQwa_neuEZ-jwoVeCC6lXEz6lYNIxQyDjZhv0ZjtnG/s1600/DSC_0047.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="244" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirmwKnTbqCe8foxLgILHr3Mi7OgitBQancH-FVpa81caz6nbsR0_cQIMU4k2oh-eYoe_52T55GNwhthZ4B8-y7j_YtkleHLNHQCqqQwa_neuEZ-jwoVeCC6lXEz6lYNIxQyDjZhv0ZjtnG/s320/DSC_0047.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Training and training</i></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
I began looking for another local race. I found the Run For The Warriors at Camp Lejeune. I emailed Sally, “Here’s our cause!” We had a great time at the race. We met many motivating individuals from the military and civilian communities. We learned about <a href="http://www.hopeforthewarriors.org/" target="_blank">Hope For The Warriors</a> and their mission to give Hope to wounded military, their families, and the families of the fallen. They also had a Team Hope For The Warriors for the Marine Corps Marathon.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJyiH9m1Oog_elAOSEY6ukDnuJNezL1NQbel95qlk3Jd2mTJeHGMqWXrPixjZRZ-gvt7CbQ0E2TobrOwS1ubdsoNUP8REI9bvIBxVFFtzz3QhHUfTRC9NvPVqjexuTA0-cvbvP5NHwcQ4f/s1600/DSC_0199.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="153" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJyiH9m1Oog_elAOSEY6ukDnuJNezL1NQbel95qlk3Jd2mTJeHGMqWXrPixjZRZ-gvt7CbQ0E2TobrOwS1ubdsoNUP8REI9bvIBxVFFtzz3QhHUfTRC9NvPVqjexuTA0-cvbvP5NHwcQ4f/s320/DSC_0199.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Run For The Warriors 2007</i></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<br />
<span style="color: #3d85c6;"><span style="font-size: large;"><i>Team Hope For The Warriors</i></span></span><br />
<br />
Team Hope consisted on military members, community members, and wounded military, all united on a mission to raise money for Hope For The Warriors. I vowed to be on that team at the Marine Corps Marathon.<br />
<br />
Later in the spring of 2007, I visited Washington, DC. Sally and I drove the entire Marine Corps Marathon course. I knew I would have trouble with the hills. Particularly the last quarter mile, the entrance to the Marine Corps Memorial, the last steep hill known to Marine Corps Marathoners as, “Iwo.” We got a chance to ride the bike path next to that stretch of course. Or, I should say, attempt to ride. The hill was too steep for me. I thought I could just use lower gears. They just don’t make gears that low.<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzq8bxhQKJdcXoMNWLCp3zPQwBxPylZUtTz9XSmMaSS_naA9WUqQrUppCaoDMogaRRLXCc1JfPof02YyKNgsoneVhH9DKUG-3_fb8mkT5fpeXQ00y6-tcmM9fpDGlPSQQdes5i7Uh_Y1qi/s1600/DSC_0072.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzq8bxhQKJdcXoMNWLCp3zPQwBxPylZUtTz9XSmMaSS_naA9WUqQrUppCaoDMogaRRLXCc1JfPof02YyKNgsoneVhH9DKUG-3_fb8mkT5fpeXQ00y6-tcmM9fpDGlPSQQdes5i7Uh_Y1qi/s320/DSC_0072.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Marshall Drive, the final qurter mile, or better known as, "Iwo"</i></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
I returned home to regroup. I had to have to become a lot stronger. Sadly, I let Hope For The Warriors know I would not be on their team at the Marine Marathon in 2007. I told my niece that we would re-focus on 2008. My training centered around laps over the Atlantic Beach Bridge and a steep, block-long climb up East Atlantic Avenue at the Beach.<br />
<br />
Ironically, during a workout about two weeks before the ’07 Marathon, I learned a climbing technique with my handcycle that would get me up the hill called Iwo. It was a bittersweet success. The technique would get me up a steeper hill than ever before. But its discovery came too late to get into the race I had my sights set on. <br />
<br />
The climbing technique I learned that night eventually got me to the top of Iwo. My focus was no longer on discovering “if” I could climb the hill, but “when.”<br />
<br />
<span style="color: #3d85c6;"><i><span style="font-size: large;">2008 Miles of Hope</span></i></span><br />
<br />
2008 was to be my 30th anniversary of living with a disability. I have been a quadriplegic since 1978 when I broke my neck in a pool while teaching swimming lessons to kids. That’s another long story for another time. I was going to celebrate my 30th year with a disability by conquering Iwo--completing the Marine Corps Marathon.<br />
<br />
I started a fundraising campaign I called 2008 Miles of Hope. All the money we raise goes to Hope For The Warriors. Friends, neighbors, family, and local businesses support us with generous donations. As of this writing, we have raised over $80,000 in donations for Hope For The Warriors.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcVDoMLOMznTj6ZZv7LMe9exPCKafjGX4hGwsuWfPKnBIAV1UMbVHsIUXSD5uOP2eRsudRxoEeERziV5vVeSslYQIo87oGOfJPV4w93gbfHTNBnvip8tTyS8f2-lOrTxAu97s-WghtInZa/s1600/DSC_3836.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcVDoMLOMznTj6ZZv7LMe9exPCKafjGX4hGwsuWfPKnBIAV1UMbVHsIUXSD5uOP2eRsudRxoEeERziV5vVeSslYQIo87oGOfJPV4w93gbfHTNBnvip8tTyS8f2-lOrTxAu97s-WghtInZa/s320/DSC_3836.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Taking Iwo</i></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
In 2008 I climbed Iwo. The hill itself took me 20 minutes to climb, I seem to remember. It wasn’t exactly pretty but spectators screamed at me at the top of their lungs as I inched up Marshall Drive. Two Hope teammates that had finished their race joined me and walked beside me to the finish. Robbie Powers, the finish line announcer, asked all the spectators to remove their caps in respect to the flag I had carried throughout the Nation’s Capital. Marines lining the finish rendered crisp salutes.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGwn6qUzqrMYIGWYWeCGPC7ceSh2zBLOrc8vDOsIGbEBCBQshh88UyEvKLiOX92sKxCXKc8sqme0h9q6_CFh0CNy0vzw15wudJesYXpvlmajKIQOdjQ96QxWMao3MMXBOI_bTb1_u5ZtZb/s1600/DSC_3844.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGwn6qUzqrMYIGWYWeCGPC7ceSh2zBLOrc8vDOsIGbEBCBQshh88UyEvKLiOX92sKxCXKc8sqme0h9q6_CFh0CNy0vzw15wudJesYXpvlmajKIQOdjQ96QxWMao3MMXBOI_bTb1_u5ZtZb/s320/DSC_3844.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>The Marine Corps finish line</i></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
And that was just the beginning. Sunday will be my ninth trip to the People’s Marathon starting line. “Hope”-fully it will be my 8th MCM finish. There was a nasty little crash in 2011. My best MCM time is 4:30-ish. I’m hoping for a new MCM PR.<br />
<br />
But most importantly, it will be my 100 finish of a long stretch of full and half marathons for <a href="http://www.hopeforthewarriors.org/" target="_blank">Hope For The Warriors</a>. The journey has taken Sally and me to races in 15 different states. My total mileage rolled in races, training, and fundraising events has well exceeded the distance around the world. I completed the Chicago Marathon earlier this year and the NY City Marathon four times in previous years. I completed the Air Force Marathon, the Army's All-American Marathon, and the Soldier Marathon; but the Marine Corps Marathon is still my favorite.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjU4u4QLihyFegv-tKQmnM5cgL3P0cKlHR1WdlMVjWE-v1ybjHfuz57W9r8XIU9u4b7KVgfE0YfkLRBWJp735RnM3m-hT6_7zse-_CqofHQULtl_fB7CSjEioroCMmfOOMAi4qXIoF1fGb_/s1600/DSC_3350.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="187" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjU4u4QLihyFegv-tKQmnM5cgL3P0cKlHR1WdlMVjWE-v1ybjHfuz57W9r8XIU9u4b7KVgfE0YfkLRBWJp735RnM3m-hT6_7zse-_CqofHQULtl_fB7CSjEioroCMmfOOMAi4qXIoF1fGb_/s320/DSC_3350.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>All American Marathon, April 2016</i></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<span style="color: #3d85c6;"><i><span style="font-size: large;">Help us spread Hope</span></i></span><br />
<br />
Runners often ask each other, “What’s next?” It’s an acknowledgement that you can’t quit. For me the answer is simple. Another marathon.<br />
<br />
Please help us with our cause. Donate to <a href="http://www.hopeforthewarriors.org/" target="_blank">Hope For The Warriors</a>. Their mission is still critical. Use our secure donation website: http://www.active.com/donate/2008Miles. Spread hope.LetsRollhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02704108831138764554noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1195166657047014867.post-52971491020811100292014-11-05T18:12:00.000-08:002014-11-05T18:17:03.290-08:00<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: #bf9000;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><span style="background-color: white;"><i><b>Never Quit!—2013 New
York City Marathon</b></i></span></span></span></div>
<span style="color: #bf9000;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><span style="background-color: #ffd966;"><i>
</i></span></span></span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br />
I've fallen far too far behind in my blogging to ever catch up. Sunday I sat by my fireplace and watched the 2013 NYC Marathon on TV. I was a bit overwhelmed by a wave of nostalgia as I read facebook posts from families of friends as they wished their runners Godspeed. As I watched the drama unfold, I remembered the thrill of crossing the starting line of the previous four NYC Marathons. So I dusted off the following account of my previous journey through the Big Apple and finally got around to posting <i>(As you read the tale, bear in mind the dates of events are a year prior to this posting).</i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="color: #3d85c6;"><i><b>If I make it to the
starting line, I WILL finish!</b></i></span></span></div>
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="color: #3d85c6;"><i>
</i></span></span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The alarm clock blinked two AM when the phone rang.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I said to Sally, “That’s pretty rude;”
expecting the wakeup call at three AM.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>My watch told the bad news…it really was three.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>In a fog of disorientation after travelling
through six different towns, I thought “If today is Sunday, this must be New
York”.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
On the street around 4 AM, a “gleeful” couple invited me to help
find a liquor store.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>In the “city
that never sleeps,” my ‘Sunday,’ was just the unwelcome conclusion to their
Saturday activities.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“Yes, this
must be New York.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Two weeks prior, I rolled out of my hotel toward the
starting line of the Detroit Marathon. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>One week ago it was Arlington, VA, and my destination was the
Marine Corps Marathon.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This day,
the New York City Marathon was to be the capstone for a difficult and
fulfilling year.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Sally and I raise money for Hope For The Warriors through my
participation in marathons and half-marathons.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This year I attempted six marathons and three half
marathons.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The New York City
Marathon would be my 70<sup>th</sup> such event in the past six years.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I reminded myself, “You’re not at the starting line yet.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="color: #3d85c6;"><i><b>Leveling the field</b></i></span></span></div>
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="color: #3d85c6;">
</span></span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgA6Mgv9aZDrwH0Lke2IUnDcC0PBJA2ceBufbv4G-hcFEQRWabjEbI8_xmNaDQgmxAtR1vOZZrDnhEYqSE7yAZl2On6FlMud8C5MLsdjOaqeIVxKpqPX9ZW6qh_1E5d-hr8bQZ9wwY8SpMW/s1600/RedShift.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgA6Mgv9aZDrwH0Lke2IUnDcC0PBJA2ceBufbv4G-hcFEQRWabjEbI8_xmNaDQgmxAtR1vOZZrDnhEYqSE7yAZl2On6FlMud8C5MLsdjOaqeIVxKpqPX9ZW6qh_1E5d-hr8bQZ9wwY8SpMW/s1600/RedShift.JPG" height="132" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Reedshift</i></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
I don’t consider myself an athlete.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“I’m a participant.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>For those that don’t know me, I’m a quadriplegic.
<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I use a unique crank wheelchair to
‘participate’ in road races. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>For
years I bragged of an unsullied legacy of last-place finishes amongst the other
wheelers. ‘Participating’ with
other “quads” (quadriplegics) is rare.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>But somewhere, I caught a competitive bug. </div>
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<br />
Last year, with the help of Bertram’s Machine shop, in
Morehead City, and Crystal Coast Bicycles, at Atlantic Beach, I developed some
unique modifications to a new handcycle. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Now I put to full use the few arm, shoulder, and back muscles
above my level of paralysis.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I
‘participated’ in a few events with other quads.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Not only was my last place legacy behind me, but often, my
competition, the other quads, were behind me too.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwCaR7XXRPlOzjowpiABFr95JzhevndutDUFvq8EjVywlZ669TRp8budClUOm7pVOcKpMDIVpEiyF4RTEoCW6TVMw3TBq_hXdOa9HolYP1hTPw4tne8a5vvduohU0QEP9CzRF927Vd5cDb/s1600/MB.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwCaR7XXRPlOzjowpiABFr95JzhevndutDUFvq8EjVywlZ669TRp8budClUOm7pVOcKpMDIVpEiyF4RTEoCW6TVMw3TBq_hXdOa9HolYP1hTPw4tne8a5vvduohU0QEP9CzRF927Vd5cDb/s1600/MB.jpg" height="320" width="212" /></a></div>
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<br />
My greatest accomplishment was my final event last
year.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>At the Palm Beach Marathon, as
I entered the finish chute, I could see the winner’s tape stretched across the
finish line. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>As I approached, the
finish line crew hastily retracted the tape, which was intended for the runner
behind me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Nonetheless, it was a
personal achievement to have crossed the finish line ahead of the winning
runner.</div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="color: #3d85c6;"><i><b>The fall challenge</b></i></span></span></div>
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="color: #3d85c6;">
</span></span><br />
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<br /></div>
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Early this year, that ‘competitive bug’ gnawed at me as I
registered for these three events. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Each was uniquely exciting and rewarding to me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The Detroit Marathon was a physically difficult
event that included a crossing of the Ambassador Bridge into Canada and a
return via the Detroit-Windsor Tunnel. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The grades of the bridge and the tunnel were no greater than
the Atlantic Beach Bridge, so I was confident of completion.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>More importantly, since I knew another
quad who would be there, it would be a <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">race</i>.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
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<br /></div>
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The Marine Corps Marathon has a sentimental meaning for
me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>In 2006, I watched from the
sidelines for my niece to pass by. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I witnessed crank wheelchair athletes for first time.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>With the words, “I think I can do
that,” my marathon career began.</div>
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<br /></div>
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In New York City, five bridges, including one of the longest
suspension bridges in the world, make it strenuous.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>A record 50,000
runners ensure a congested course, a problem for wheelers on steep downhill
streets.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The biggest obstacle to
the event’s starting line, however, is its <i>popularity</i>.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>A limited field of crank wheelers are admitted
into the event. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It was August
before I knew I was in. </div>
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I knew the volume of runners would be my biggest challenge. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Hills slow down quads tremendously on
the uphill climb.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The bigger
problem is safely maneuvering through the runners at high speeds on the downhill
side.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>For that problem guides are
essential.</div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="color: #3d85c6;"><i><b>Motown</b></i></span></span></div>
<span style="font-size: large;">
</span><br />
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<br /></div>
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Detroit provided bicyclists to guide the wheelers as they maneuver
in the field of runners.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Many of
the guides came from the legendary <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Wolverine
Sports Club</i>.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The club has
trained more than 100 National Champions, 300 National medalists, and several
Olympic and Pan Am athletes.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Certainly
my Detroit guides would be able to cover me at any speed I could muster.</div>
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<br /></div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9WXIs0FSp218G161UnhyphenhyphenlQyCiruRMfKYQaE8MI8t_iZbgR4taWEdlBdN6aEuqUde_Oz672cW5qTwh29aCY7YIYL1O88Mj2al7EvJx_CJKh0hiZUa1lV5p5hMn_HZj_u0Him9fAMr-cP2y/s1600/ambassador.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9WXIs0FSp218G161UnhyphenhyphenlQyCiruRMfKYQaE8MI8t_iZbgR4taWEdlBdN6aEuqUde_Oz672cW5qTwh29aCY7YIYL1O88Mj2al7EvJx_CJKh0hiZUa1lV5p5hMn_HZj_u0Him9fAMr-cP2y/s1600/ambassador.jpg" height="320" width="213" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Ambassador Bridge: Detroit Marathon</i></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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Unfortunately for my ego, the other quad I expected to race
was recuperating from an injury. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I
was the only quad in the field of approximately 30 wheelers.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The guides were crucial to my completion.
<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The two longest downhill
stretches, the Ambassador Bridge and the Detroit-Windsor Tunnel were extremely
crowded.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My finish time of 4:35 was
only two minutes off the self-proclaimed “quad course record” set two years
prior by my absent counterpart.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="color: #3d85c6;"><i><b>Marine Corps: paying it forward</b></i></span></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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The Marine Corps Marathon is my favorite marathon. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It is tough for a wheeler, particularly
for a slower quad.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The fall
colors, the national monuments, and the unique spirit Marines impart to the
race provide an unending motivation throughout the course.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The first two and a half miles,
however, are uphill.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>For slower
wheelers, that means falling behind a thick group of runners early in the race,
making the downhills more difficult.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span></div>
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<br /></div>
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That day, my goal was to beat the popular benchmark of Oprah
Winfrey’s time of 4:29. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>On the
initial climb I was doing better than previous years.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Even with a few minutes earlier start than the runners, I fell
well back into the thick of the runners by mile two.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
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<br /></div>
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The Marine Corps Marathon doesn’t provide guides for
wheelers. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I find passing runners
who are deafened with their mp3 players blasting to be frustrating.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>As I wheeled down Rock Creek Parkway I
shouted at the top of my lungs to warn runners I was passing from behind.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Then runners along my path started
their own impromptu guiding.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Some
would run in front to clear a path, others would shout forward to runners ahead
of me.</div>
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<br /></div>
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I was amazed at what I experienced.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Even in some of the most congested
areas, runners moved over.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But at
about mile eight, I started hearing some confusing shouts from runners. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>When I started downhill and shouted
"wheels on the right," runners started shouting "wheels
left."<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>After about a mile of
this I saw the reason.</div>
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<br /></div>
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I was close to another wheeler, AJ, who was on the left.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I knew AJ from my first Marine Corps
Marathon in 2008.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>AJ and another
amputee, Zach, both had been “Warrior” team members in our Team Hope For The
Warriors. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He wasn't being too
aggressive about moving forward through the runners.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I transitioned over to the left and asked him if he wanted
to move right and work the crowd together.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He said he was doing pretty well on the left.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I went in front and pretty soon noticed
he was having trouble keeping up, particularly on the climbs.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I would lose him and stop for him to
catch up.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoFrcQl9Kc6NCUUytFxe9hwQ7ZpHxhUlK_nc0pkaQfZV8OYSFZyNrXRVsW5Qdk5wRW1TfJ2X85k9Ajgb16pCq09yTS1eVLld7lOYyQ15nu9qy7oGYjv4UjSkK0ey3lrTf2_UhPJ8Ck5GhF/s1600/MCM-PK-AJ.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoFrcQl9Kc6NCUUytFxe9hwQ7ZpHxhUlK_nc0pkaQfZV8OYSFZyNrXRVsW5Qdk5wRW1TfJ2X85k9Ajgb16pCq09yTS1eVLld7lOYyQ15nu9qy7oGYjv4UjSkK0ey3lrTf2_UhPJ8Ck5GhF/s1600/MCM-PK-AJ.jpg" height="290" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>"Guiding" for AJ</i></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
I knew in that 2008, AJ and Zach had trouble with crowds.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>A runner named Kip had spontaneously
guided the two to help them get to the finish. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I felt AJ could use some guiding this year and maybe I could
help.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>From about mile nine until the
final grueling hill affectionately known to Marine Marathoners as “Iwo,” I got
in front of AJ and he followed in my ‘wake.’ </div>
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Guiding for AJ was a unique experience. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I was unknowingly paying it forward for
what I would receive in my next race.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I finished in 5:08, far better than any previous Marine Corps Marathon
time.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Oprah's time stands
unopposed, but I felt better about this race than any previous.</div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="color: #3d85c6;"><i><b>The Big Apple: Getting
to the start</b></i></span></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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Four and a half hours was my goal for New York.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Some basic high school physics told me that
if I wanted to do well in New York, I would need fast guides.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>As luck would have it, this year I was
given the opportunity to invite my own guides.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It was not the last time that luck, or maybe <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">divine intervention</i> would play a role in
my New York experience. </div>
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<br /></div>
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In August, I contacted <span style="mso-no-proof: yes;">Heidi Tucker</span> from Morehead City and <span style="mso-no-proof: yes;">Anne Wheatly</span> from Beaufort to see if they
were interested in guiding in New York.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I know several others equally capable of guiding me at a fast pace.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>However, those that could be ready for
a November marathon were already registered and training for a specific event.</div>
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<br /></div>
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I had spoken to both the previous year about guiding but neither were available at that time.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This
year, luck was again on my side.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Both were already training at distances that were compatible with an early-November
marathon schedule.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Both had
expressed interest in the New York City Marathon in the past.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Most importantly, both women were
sub-three hour marathoners.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>In
fact, all three of us held a marathon personal record time within five minutes
of each other.</div>
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<br /></div>
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I knew that I could not complete New York at their pace. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But their speed would not be wasted on
me. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Heidi’s and Anne’s quickness
would enable me to attain better speeds on the descents, especially in the
thick of 50,000 runners.</div>
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<br /></div>
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During the weeks leading up to New York, the two women often
trained together.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>As close friends
and training partners, they also solidified personal bonds that were to benefit
our run in New York.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>On several
occasions we coordinated training runs that gave them the opportunity to learn
how my speeds would vary with the terrain.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They shifted the focus of their training to interval and
speed workouts as opposed to endurance building.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>In New York, there would be ample opportunities for rest as
we walked up the hills.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But as
they sprinted downhill, they would not be avoiding runners; they would be <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">moving</i> runners to clear a path.</div>
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<br /></div>
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</div>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhb_QfLlElBZpEK7BP0onBTljMggTWayNf15nFXKKh4pGb5IEsNS4rIJ8vpf27JfVpVAEQTfmYdo7jcDSP4zJCahRhQfrK7kykkEeSEAwq09GovxyOALJ4I4YCatTZn1-D9ZAjNtu0XOJlg/s1600/Training.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhb_QfLlElBZpEK7BP0onBTljMggTWayNf15nFXKKh4pGb5IEsNS4rIJ8vpf27JfVpVAEQTfmYdo7jcDSP4zJCahRhQfrK7kykkEeSEAwq09GovxyOALJ4I4YCatTZn1-D9ZAjNtu0XOJlg/s1600/Training.jpg" height="265" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>For the first time I had an opportunity to train with NYC Marathon guides2</i></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
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<br /></div>
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We discussed logistics of the race by email and in
particular the AWDs (athletes with disabilities) divisions.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I wanted Heidi and Anne to understand
unique issues associated with transportation to start.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Sally
would meet us at several locations along the course and she could assist us by positioning
clothing, drinks, and energy foods.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Bruce Gentry, at Crystal Coast Bicycles, had helped get my
handbike as ready as possible.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I
had new tires and new cables on the shifters.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>With spare tires and tools, Sally and I prepared for our two
and a half week, three-marathon trip in mid-October.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>By race day in New York, it was a relief to have all of those
preparations behind us.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I have always
said of a marathon, “The 26.2 miles in front of me is not the hard part.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It’s the 1000 miles behind me that were
difficult” (in this case the 1000 preparations too).</div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="color: #3d85c6;"><i><b>Some things you can’t
prepare for</b></i></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The New York City Marathon is a point-to-point race renown
for a course that takes runners through all five of the city’s boroughs.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>On the day of the race, 50,000 runners
were transported to the start, mostly by bus or the Staten Island Ferry.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>At just before 5 AM I met Heidi and
Anne at the “AWD loading zone,” in mid-town Manhattan.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The pre-dawn light of Fifth Avenue street
lamps and bus headlights cast a criss-crossing maze of shadows over the growing
gaggle of wheelchairs, racing chairs, crutches, and canes as the congregation
of AWDs grew.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMA2d6dnbSChaV94IMmLWRe31fB1gMQX7dkWBgbc-no9j1IlsaAJoOzHmoAvJOZsw9H4skTODD-RZpi55ZkvUxd0k8YLA4uHSVsv7YDtUSdrzkKJRgcxruAJjYgFiygPzaV3LmIwSlBknw/s1600/AWD+loading.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMA2d6dnbSChaV94IMmLWRe31fB1gMQX7dkWBgbc-no9j1IlsaAJoOzHmoAvJOZsw9H4skTODD-RZpi55ZkvUxd0k8YLA4uHSVsv7YDtUSdrzkKJRgcxruAJjYgFiygPzaV3LmIwSlBknw/s1600/AWD+loading.jpg" height="266" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>An exercise in logistics</i></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal">
We were all buzzing with the excitement of race day as I was
loaded onto one of the first busses.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Seated in my crank chair, I was picked up by the transportation workers who
loaded me onto the bus alongside half a dozen or so amputees.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Heidi and Anne were getting settled in
one of the passenger seats as were other guides.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>In the well-lit interior of the bus, it was then that I saw
“<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">the look”</i> on their faces.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>In all our discussions of the AWD division
of the race, the abbreviation “AWD” had become a euphemism for the very stark
spectacle now before their eyes.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpWbUArUJNoy5z2r6wbkSr1yK8Qm4RV3ysewWoZMDOq4K6twr03337qKB2dmdZVoFbuDWaUzaxjPEATuzLHUoi61Q6h5-etEJwihOaJD9fRt-wpG_qiqxZiyY_YrAXjGJP6594t82AIcf3/s1600/bus.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpWbUArUJNoy5z2r6wbkSr1yK8Qm4RV3ysewWoZMDOq4K6twr03337qKB2dmdZVoFbuDWaUzaxjPEATuzLHUoi61Q6h5-etEJwihOaJD9fRt-wpG_qiqxZiyY_YrAXjGJP6594t82AIcf3/s1600/bus.jpg" height="225" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Athletes with disabilities on the bus to the start.</i></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Though fleeting, the look that flashed across their faces
was that same “oh my gosh” look of disbelief that I saw on the faces of my
friends 35 years ago.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Then they
first looked on <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">my</i> disabled body
after I had broken my neck.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It was
the same look I had seen on the faces of previous guides when they first laid
eyes on the multitude of AWDs in one place.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Nothing these ladies had imagined had prepared them for the
hodgepodge clutter of prosthetic devices, missing limbs, scars, and every
conceivable form of adaptive conveyance that was scattered in front of them.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
As we bounced along FDR Drive, the sky clung to the last
remnants of darkness like a gray backdrop to the Brooklyn skyline reflecting
off the East River.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The scene was
accentuated by the lights of the Williamsburg and Manhattan Bridges.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>All the while the chatter and
conversation grew amongst the athletes and guides.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>One Marine amputee took an interest in Anne’s stories of extreme
trail runs while another shared with us stories of rehab at Bethesda and the
“frat house” lifestyle they enjoyed during their convalescence.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The ice was broken.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="color: #3d85c6;"><i><b>Only 26.2 miles left
to go</b></i></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
We arrived at Staten Island around six AM and made our way
through the growing sea of runners assembling throughout the east end of the
island.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The weather was falling
short of the promised temperatures in the upper 40s to lower 50s and abundant
sunshine.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The 15-20 mph winds
would be bitter while we crossed the Verrazano Narrows Bridge, but we hoped for
comfort from the sun as New York’s tall buildings blocked the wind.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjame2T7ton5VIx8QeiS4U6tcTqyZrJs45euRo_EhHUBHJ-s6B27Z1P5wbOQLAW6cPm6h7zi2MjSFUHMvQ5AMkcUGFML5V-5ScHTg7Q3v6j6IvcWTDGR2cXsWtjFtLoZyDPASC6vGhOrpEP/s1600/Chaos.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjame2T7ton5VIx8QeiS4U6tcTqyZrJs45euRo_EhHUBHJ-s6B27Z1P5wbOQLAW6cPm6h7zi2MjSFUHMvQ5AMkcUGFML5V-5ScHTg7Q3v6j6IvcWTDGR2cXsWtjFtLoZyDPASC6vGhOrpEP/s1600/Chaos.jpg" height="225" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Organized chaos</i></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
We waited in a tent in an assembly area for the AWDs.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I had brought a breakfast with me
consisting of boiled eggs, Fig Newtons, and milk.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Anne and Heidi were taking in the strange spectacle around
them. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They asked if the other
guides met their athlete before the race.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>“It seems like there is not a lot of mingling between the guides and
their athletes,” Heidi observed.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>At about that moment, Adam, one of my guide runners from a 2011, stopped
by.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We embraced and chatted for a
few moments before he had to depart to locate his athlete.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I explained to Heidi that our
opportunity train together was truly a blessing.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Many of the guides were from the New York area but the
athletes come from around the world.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhs6aZ1e4p_6KCdrBaMsDkm3eCwSH0zZbbvP7DSNqSn9UmGWnZ6nPkwr73nSvWBrNauLgCdlcOddCcfGUaOCOm8P6KPWna4moDBTb1ry7Ay3S3u6CQoIyJY8SLefQlqr6PbQC6eyN4-SB4p/s1600/Adam.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhs6aZ1e4p_6KCdrBaMsDkm3eCwSH0zZbbvP7DSNqSn9UmGWnZ6nPkwr73nSvWBrNauLgCdlcOddCcfGUaOCOm8P6KPWna4moDBTb1ry7Ay3S3u6CQoIyJY8SLefQlqr6PbQC6eyN4-SB4p/s1600/Adam.jpg" height="320" width="293" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>My former guide, Adam and I reunited</i></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div style="text-align: left;">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
"I always took the time to try to get acquainted with my
guides in advance via email,” I explained. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“But it has always been the weekend of the race that we met
face-to-face.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Usually I arranged
to meet for a warm-up run in Central Park.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But the race always solidified our friendship.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“The bonds of friendship forged in the
fires of a difficult endeavor are strong enough to endure a lifetime,” I later
explained.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Indeed, the bonds
between these two friends were growing as they were amongst the three of us.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Later in the day I would appreciate the
value of those bonds to the endeavor that lay before us.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
At 8 AM the AWDs and guides were called to stage short of
the starting line.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The trip was
probably about a half mile from our area.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Nearly entire trip was uphill.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>We got our first taste of the warm New York reception in for us.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Runners awaiting their turn to start
stood as we passed and welcomed us with applause.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>At the approach to the starting line, we were personally welcomed
by Mary Wittenberg, the President and CEO of the New York Road Runners, the
host organization for the marathon.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>We were also greeted by an NYPD Police Chief and numerous other
dignitaries. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It seemed as if we
had just stepped out of the celebrity tent.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzkt7QOXCL0FTdjzeaJWEDzYmNrnG-7gbmHiTog99PGxbouyqe0uVxzz0202Mer5w3a6VGZc1Trf1D9P7fH-hSlRWHeaC1b4tOEwhem96TPhCpIJIPqR3b7mzMxuwfXbuNV-adSF8dDl4m/s1600/VNBridge.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzkt7QOXCL0FTdjzeaJWEDzYmNrnG-7gbmHiTog99PGxbouyqe0uVxzz0202Mer5w3a6VGZc1Trf1D9P7fH-hSlRWHeaC1b4tOEwhem96TPhCpIJIPqR3b7mzMxuwfXbuNV-adSF8dDl4m/s1600/VNBridge.jpg" height="265" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Like everything else about the NYC Marathon, the first bridge</i><i> is overwhelming</i></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><br /></i></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><br /></i></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The view from the starting line was intimidating.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There was nowhere to look but up.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The Verrazzano Narrows Bridge in front rose to a height of
250 feet.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The towers rise to a
height of nearly 800 feet.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It was
a mile to the top of the roadway.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Even
higher overhead two NYPD helicopters circled the bridge to protect us from the
unthinkable.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgf_iO0GkfyFzOgUDRwlNbhyphenhyphen2INAFBy6NULcEm6Dm1-uqD_Uj3hktOdnnXFBy6suk60nMyRxmxAeBNEtDc2n0DhIesO2itMkPy7qR2heym5gTmzxjbMy5DqvdPih8QB9x8p3kvfn5j5glwS/s1600/Climb.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgf_iO0GkfyFzOgUDRwlNbhyphenhyphen2INAFBy6NULcEm6Dm1-uqD_Uj3hktOdnnXFBy6suk60nMyRxmxAeBNEtDc2n0DhIesO2itMkPy7qR2heym5gTmzxjbMy5DqvdPih8QB9x8p3kvfn5j5glwS/s1600/Climb.jpg" height="225" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Windy, raw weather for the slow climb</i></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
The starting horn sounded, but the start was anti-climatic.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It was a slow uphill roll off the line
and a long climb to the top.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The
weather reports were right about the winds and the temperature but there was no
sun to be seen.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The wind on the
bridge was raw.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I got a good
workout on the climb but Heidi and Anne were freezing.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They were dressed to run.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Their work would begin in a few
minutes.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiinRvqUNNxbGKPCK0TltH9Jxwus1OLgKmxXQLboST63maZnKFme20ZbpVgR3AFIUUuVf-DE31i-J5Og9YCr0Qrmbulm_8Z0ZjS3mpSkTkcHcErpknl0h8ZFQRqWASsvMFyJD_F6wvDcjFC/s1600/Harbor.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiinRvqUNNxbGKPCK0TltH9Jxwus1OLgKmxXQLboST63maZnKFme20ZbpVgR3AFIUUuVf-DE31i-J5Og9YCr0Qrmbulm_8Z0ZjS3mpSkTkcHcErpknl0h8ZFQRqWASsvMFyJD_F6wvDcjFC/s1600/Harbor.jpg" height="225" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>New York harbor</i></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
The Verrazano Narrows Bridge is normally off limits to
pedestrians.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This event is the
only time one can enjoy the views of the New York Harbor, Statue of Liberty,
the lower Manhattan skyline, and the majesty of the bridge itself as a
pedestrian.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And even during this
event, only the guides and the slower AWDs are able to linger over the
unfettered views.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>For other
runners, the roadways are too congested to stop and sightsee.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The three of us took it all in as I
ground my way up the first mile.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>As we neared the top of the span, a stir of activity behind signaled
that the race was getting underway for the professional women.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Before we started our first downhill run, I asked Heidi and
Anne to run ahead to warn the other athletes and guides in front to move to the
left as I passed them.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The professional
women had just started. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The elites
were about to pass us on the right side of the bridge.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Heidi and Anne were about to have the
rare chance to run alongside some of the fastest professional marathoners in
the world on the left side of the bridge.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh61_U0dcVMZhfLS0pocEepTAJxLSsxUohaVESS2ghVpHAuHNU46pQNQ9F0jsKcQpSN9Pwz2FWcLWdpYOD8VIPcR3_9WSrw67-RYCHh7LhWFe-B8RPhkkfTbeFkb7iMGCN6YuopAZS6wb6w/s1600/Elites.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh61_U0dcVMZhfLS0pocEepTAJxLSsxUohaVESS2ghVpHAuHNU46pQNQ9F0jsKcQpSN9Pwz2FWcLWdpYOD8VIPcR3_9WSrw67-RYCHh7LhWFe-B8RPhkkfTbeFkb7iMGCN6YuopAZS6wb6w/s1600/Elites.jpg" height="300" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>On the downhill side. Anne and Heidi are behind me in the bright green shirts. Elite women are on the left.</i></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
The two women took off and sprinted down the bridge.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Professionals Deba Buzunesh and her
training partner, Tigist Demisse, had already stepped out in front of the lead
women. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It looked as if Heidi and
Anne were the only women who dared to give chase.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I topped the crest of the bridge and was buffeted badly by
the wind down the second mile.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I
passed Heidi and Anne near the bottom of the span and rolled into Brooklyn at
the bottom of the bridge.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Crowds already
lined the streets.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It seemed the
AWDs and guides were getting as much attention as the professionals.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>A handmade sign read, “We love
you!”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>A spectator shouted at the
top of her voice, “Welcome to Brooklyn!”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>The intensity of the welcome never diminished throughout the day.<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgMGTO2-48ksSWsF8LEzeb6Rgp6S8tmXyt__aejw_bFDjUp2Z21p-d0_jGDdvw7taBWEpidbDLGWx6dpSbfsmcK2vOpzZaOPkeq0WJk9DkWHD7WiCHUzfoFMix8QNPVTZSbHAGCeeXXAIC/s1600/Brooklyn.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgMGTO2-48ksSWsF8LEzeb6Rgp6S8tmXyt__aejw_bFDjUp2Z21p-d0_jGDdvw7taBWEpidbDLGWx6dpSbfsmcK2vOpzZaOPkeq0WJk9DkWHD7WiCHUzfoFMix8QNPVTZSbHAGCeeXXAIC/s1600/Brooklyn.jpg" height="225" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Brooklyn loves you!</i></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="color: #3d85c6;"><i><b>Brooklyn</b></i></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Fourth Avenue in Brooklyn comprises about six miles of the
course.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The street is lined with
homes, shops, apartments, and on Marathon day, spectators.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Heidi and Anne caught me about mile
three.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They were emotionally
pumped up after running alongside the elites.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We were also sheltered from the raw wind biting at us on the
bridge.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I crawled up the hills and
flew down the hills. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We, the other
AWDs, and guides had the course to ourselves.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Our pace was good; we were well ahead of my position for
this time in my previous NY races.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzB8x9XGMOBk5uUU2YZ_g198fjodu6FM1npYkOOsmJdaCXphgrSAufKbHY6rfYBcv5O2Q0PYO3NnpCZz5eL7WTP3GL2reN1Oe91-yRDxAhAYA5AggJ-GWA1VpAx1F2X2uoChHV9LYS6Ibd/s1600/Mary+Gladys2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzB8x9XGMOBk5uUU2YZ_g198fjodu6FM1npYkOOsmJdaCXphgrSAufKbHY6rfYBcv5O2Q0PYO3NnpCZz5eL7WTP3GL2reN1Oe91-yRDxAhAYA5AggJ-GWA1VpAx1F2X2uoChHV9LYS6Ibd/s1600/Mary+Gladys2.jpg" height="225" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>NYC Marathon icon Sister Mary Gladys</i></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div style="text-align: left;">
</div>
We caught up with my favorite NYC Marathon icons, Sister
Mary Gladys.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I slowed to chat with
her and her guides as she cranked her way up one of the hills of 4<sup>th</sup>
Avenue.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Sister Mary has completed
29 New York City Marathons and is still going strong at the age of 81.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She once participated on foot, but now,
as she puts it, “My knees aren’t doing so well.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The crank wheelchair has become a blessing for Sister Mary
as it has for me.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Farther up 4<sup>th</sup> Avenue we passed the 10K timing
station.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I recall our time being
around 1:15.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My GPS was not
charged up so I did not record my timing.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>The time was good since it included the time it took to cross the first
bridge in a nasty headwind. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
At mile eight we paused briefly to meet Sally.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We also met Geeta and her new son, Avi,
who is the same age as Heidi’s younger son. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Geeta had been my guide two previous years.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This was my
first opportunity to meet Avi. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Geeta
expressed her admiration of Heidi’s return to the marathon. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhO4RTeJSE79AHBxIG0dw-wlwwjidlr3rQRaQyoAlU-Q444gVW4TDTcssS09Q56HuW4IsEIoWDDSd-M42OHcdcgk1dgDgAR6mCdTDLg1atyZHCRciJvec_-7KklM3GtN7Ds8kRveMdEwRgg/s1600/Geeta-Avi.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhO4RTeJSE79AHBxIG0dw-wlwwjidlr3rQRaQyoAlU-Q444gVW4TDTcssS09Q56HuW4IsEIoWDDSd-M42OHcdcgk1dgDgAR6mCdTDLg1atyZHCRciJvec_-7KklM3GtN7Ds8kRveMdEwRgg/s1600/Geeta-Avi.jpg" height="265" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><i>Molecular biochemist, marathoner, former guide, and dear friend Geeta and Avi</i></span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The girls handed off their jackets to Sally.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I took in some quick energy food and we
launched quickly hoping to retain our pace.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I told Heidi and Anne that we were about to share the road
with fifty thousand runners.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“Keep
an eye open behind for the elite men,” I told them.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
New York uses three separate courses for the first eight
miles of the Marathon.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We were
just a few blocks short of the spot where the courses converge.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>In previous years, the elite men had
passed me around mile seven.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This
year it was around mile nine.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It was
another sign we were doing well.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>The men came flying by as I was bogged down on a slight incline.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Heidi and Anne used the opportunity to
release some of their pent up energy.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Once again, they sprinted ahead alongside the pros.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>When we rejoined, they were unanimous,
“That opportunity, by itself, was worth the trip,” as Heidi put it!</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpAzbDN08fxxSO9m_oE99RNv322sBK67SEf_buXVDSMhZc36qxs1JyVOejkqk4XVToc6WJUDvV7voDcIMwCMRI_SM7e_MLw1-HgZk8nVghFwcwsjbVfUd-rN0rTUD33snuZHYZPpCXKEmv/s1600/NYV.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpAzbDN08fxxSO9m_oE99RNv322sBK67SEf_buXVDSMhZc36qxs1JyVOejkqk4XVToc6WJUDvV7voDcIMwCMRI_SM7e_MLw1-HgZk8nVghFwcwsjbVfUd-rN0rTUD33snuZHYZPpCXKEmv/s1600/NYV.jpg" height="225" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Anne running beside the Pros</i></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Bad luck lay in wait for me around mile nine. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Heidi found a piece of paper stuck to my
left tire.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She removed the paper, sensing
it was annoying me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Unbeknownst to
us, the paper had a staple attached. The staple was now embedded in my tire.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Our pace was about to pick up.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We took off up Bedford Avenue, and
finally Heidi and Anne had a chance to get in some running.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The elevation drops slightly; perfect
for me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>As more and more sub-elite
runners passed us, the congestion on the streets began to increase.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Occasionally, we got a long downhill
stretch clear of runners and a chance to take off.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Heidi and Anne would catch me on my next uphill climb.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We made good time through Williamsburg
until about mile 12.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: #3d85c6;"><i><b><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-size: large;">Trouble in Queens </span></span></b></i></span></div>
<span style="color: #3d85c6;"><i><b>
</b></i></span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
After one long downhill run, I began to hear a lot of noise
from my left tire.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Heidi took a
look and said, “It’s flat.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She
found the staple from the piece of paper she found back at mile nine.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I continued on the flat tire to mile 13
but I was being excessively cautious as I took corners.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I didn’t want that tire to come off the
wheel. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjy7RYyvMRDOWoPMFyLdgg7pgwMzwSWCr1qX6eMSHD2cngz6UniM24XNuqmewIGW8Bq7oohVGOySB4KsRAYvco6vxSWpgjDIyyWmYlmmmVBwptUzTeUVc_-drFc3eSNOgsFIWFG9Ws5kq4j/s1600/Flat-at-13.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjy7RYyvMRDOWoPMFyLdgg7pgwMzwSWCr1qX6eMSHD2cngz6UniM24XNuqmewIGW8Bq7oohVGOySB4KsRAYvco6vxSWpgjDIyyWmYlmmmVBwptUzTeUVc_-drFc3eSNOgsFIWFG9Ws5kq4j/s1600/Flat-at-13.jpg" height="225" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Has the fun come to an end?</i></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
The Pulaski Bridge joins Queens and Brooklyn.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It is also the halfway point in the
race.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Our time was a little over
two hours at that point.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Even on
the flat tire, we were doing better than I had hoped.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We stopped at the foot of the bridge where we could talk and
started to put together a plan.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I
felt I could drag the tire along for the rest of the race, but that was not a
very wise idea.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Sally had my spare
tire and was supposed to meet us <i>anyway</i> at mile 16.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><br />
<br />
The originally planned spot was the Manhattan side of the Queensboro Bridge.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Anne called Sally and asked if she could
meet us on the <i>east</i> end of the bridge instead.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>If she did, then we only had to go about two miles further on the flat and I
would wheeling a good tire across the bridge.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Our little team drug our way through Queens, stopping
to check with race officials to see if any assistance was available. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"></span>No joy. We were on our own. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"></span>Our only hope was meeting Sally with the spare tire. We continued our progress, be it only a slow grind. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><br />
<br />
At the east end of Queensboro Bridge, our optimism was as deflated as my tire. There was no Sally.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Without a tire, this was potentially going to be either a very long day or a very short one. Regardless, forward motion was critical so we continued our way up
the bridge on the flat tire. We were heading in the direction I thought Sally would be coming from.<br />
<br />
<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">Confusion also played our mindset. The <i>west</i> end of the bridge is where we had <i>originally</i> planned to meet Sally. I assumed she would just walk over the bridge heading east. After the phone message from Anne, garbled by background noise and cell-phone-grade audio quality, Sally asked a New Yorker for directions to the east end of the bridge. </span><br />
<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBk4H6WmwglIK7PqRt6PJqSEdfZ5U2XSyjbcwRJ1HDp6KgQTVP29EvJraxEvUwZhSAbGTwt3qELTguSnw0FwMN9Pu_Mjk1Ko0p9KgBJBYtfx5y_pN7hDbgvArVraLsCd8jrdC1aPk5COgM/s1600/INGNYCM13_Course_Map.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBk4H6WmwglIK7PqRt6PJqSEdfZ5U2XSyjbcwRJ1HDp6KgQTVP29EvJraxEvUwZhSAbGTwt3qELTguSnw0FwMN9Pu_Mjk1Ko0p9KgBJBYtfx5y_pN7hDbgvArVraLsCd8jrdC1aPk5COgM/s1600/INGNYCM13_Course_Map.jpg" height="640" width="272" /></a><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">Cultural differences played into the confusion. Living in a rural environment most of my life, I would opt to walk anywhere I had to go if it were a mile or closer. The New Yorker, however, directed Sally to a subway to take her beneath the East River to The Queens end of the bridge. As Heidi, Anne, and I trekked upward and westward, Sally emerged from the subway behind us, waiting for us to arrive.</span><br />
<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Most runners overlook the challenge posed by the Queensboro Bridge.
At a point in the race where the miles are beginning to take their toll,
this formidable beast rises high over the East River. Fifteen miles
beyond the excitement and adrenaline of the start lies one of the most
difficult challenges of the race. Runners climb to nearly the
height of the Verrazzano Narrows Bridge, but in only half the distance. On the
downhill side, bales of hay line the turn off the bridge into the
streets of Manhattan. Wheelers quickly recognize those hay
bales are there to mitigate the consequences failing to heed one's speed in a steep turn.<br />
<br />
Crossing the bridge, high above the
screaming throngs that lined the streets below, runners find an eerie
quiet. The hauntingly muffled pitter-patter of thousands of sneakers on the steel grate is mind numbing. It is a time of introspection for many, when the aches, pains,
and stress of a marathon play their horrid tricks on the mind. Having drug a flat tire for five miles, the difficult climb and the raw conditions were wearing on my mind, too. Cold was sinking in again.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Not only had the weatherman forecasted non-existent sunshine,
but it was now starting to sprinkle.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Atop this steel pathway, the wind was bitter.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br />
Certainly, my enthusiasm was at its nadir. Was this how the race going to end for us? Was months of training by myself and these two women going to be wasted? All because of a mere staple? I was trying to decide the best strategy.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I also pondered ‘plan B.’<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I told Heidi, “In the event I have to
DNF (do not finish), I will drop out and link up with Sally.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You and Anne continue ahead and connect
up with the next AWD you meet and continue guiding with them.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>These were not words I wanted to say
and not words Heidi wanted to hear.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
High above Roosevelt Island, a few rays of sunshine seemed to signal that our bad luck had run its course. Heidi spotted Sally
behind us, jogging to catch us.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>From her vantage point on the ground, Sally had spotted us, specs about halfway up the bridge. Anne jogged back to meet her while Heidi and I continued upward across
the bridge. Sally and Anne caught up with us near
the top of the bridge. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: #45818e;"><i><b><span style="font-size: large;">I'll take Manhattan </span></b></i></span></div>
<span style="color: #45818e;"><i><b>
</b></i></span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Because of the bitter conditions up there, I made the
decision to continue on the flat and try to find a place out of the wind on the ground to do our work.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I began to
coast downhill and rolled out ahead of Heidi, Anne, and Sally.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>At the bottom of the bridge, directly
in front of me was a sight that was so unbelievable, I had to stop and
stare.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>A policeman walked over to
see if I was OK.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“Is that a bike
shop?” I asked.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I wasn’t sure if I
was hallucinating.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The policeman assured me it was real. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgSxcxEHK5S8kJ5lVNWTHTJ6rXn888_pTX8JeKwIbc9y_82Md7_8eSaYmQfDLcBkdTDsOeBKXDnsMCFjoEoRNzqprCUlCppNfkytkI4HM8yJ05RJJT8npKmDAVVCUGGc4d3RS6cWQEakfQ/s1600/Bikeshop.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgSxcxEHK5S8kJ5lVNWTHTJ6rXn888_pTX8JeKwIbc9y_82Md7_8eSaYmQfDLcBkdTDsOeBKXDnsMCFjoEoRNzqprCUlCppNfkytkI4HM8yJ05RJJT8npKmDAVVCUGGc4d3RS6cWQEakfQ/s1600/Bikeshop.JPG" height="262" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Never a more welcome sight</i></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: small;">I coasted over to the sidewalk in front of the bike shop
while the policeman stepped inside to ask if they could fix the flat. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Sally, Heidi, and Anne caught me in a
few minutes. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Now there were four
who were dumbfounded by our luck.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Not only was the tire about to be fixed, the buildings sheltered us from
the wind.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>To top off our good
fortune, the sun appeared with its overdue warmth.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Anne attributed our good fortune to her best fans, her mom
and dad; now angels watching over us.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Indeed, in the warmth of that spot and amidst the reception of our new
neighbors, at that moment I felt as if I might be back in Beaufort.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0Xun7TikxFh9xrOUgCFxleEOkXvu-nznUSHOAQ8HFiQp5565ZBbUD_WlwqR-19VSd49krJSWXRcb1hb58GMmyPC8FJmkirCkCdxm-naQsc4Rf4xgqeNe4BCDtiDQ0LIJj8nh_h6K4TMww/s1600/Bike+shop.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0Xun7TikxFh9xrOUgCFxleEOkXvu-nznUSHOAQ8HFiQp5565ZBbUD_WlwqR-19VSd49krJSWXRcb1hb58GMmyPC8FJmkirCkCdxm-naQsc4Rf4xgqeNe4BCDtiDQ0LIJj8nh_h6K4TMww/s1600/Bike+shop.jpg" height="400" width="225" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Not exactly a NASCAR pit crew, </i><i>but exactly what I needed</i></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><br /></i></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="font-size: small;">The first attempt with a new inner tube was unsuccessful. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Even though the bike shop guy checked my
tire carefully, when he inflated it, the new tube exploded with the crack of a
gunshot. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Did I mention the nearby
policemen? <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>As they walked over to
check us out, Sally thanked them for not drawing their side arms.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>On the second try, Sally's spare tire
and a new inner tube did the trick.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>We were back on the road. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We
had lost about an hour and a half by being slowed by the bad tire and the ensuing
stops.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="color: #3d85c6;"><i><b>A whole new game</b></i></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: small;">At mile 16, the course runs northward up 1<sup>st</sup> Avenue in
Manhattan.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> It is one of the uniquely</span> 'New York' aspects of this marathon. Runners are rousted from their quietude on the Queeensboro Bridge as they turn onto 1st Avenue. The contrast is electrifying. New Yorkers lining the streets screaming to cheer on the runners provide a jolt of energy that is non-stop through the end of the race.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: small;">As we rolled out with new rubber, our relative calm at
the bike shop was replaced by the deafening screams of millions of spectators packed
along the entire street.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The tall
buildings reverberated the roar of the crowds and the bands.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“Toto, I think we’re not in Kansas any
more,” I told myself.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Just before they stepped onto the street, I reminded Heidi and Anne that their work was about
to begin in earnest.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>After our
delay, more and slower runners were going to be in front of us. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Their job was about to become much
tougher.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>However, what I was about
to witness, was when the going got tough, the tough got tougher.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-xus6jJpvntlF1jye69tr5k69P-gcUSVNZ4QAtET9D0CNIzsnQDy09ay6q5TvhsByPCYFoQaVbnjWOTGJzs97vf-WNBdXkmqDFFL-EfHaBmgdjjtLJRrko2N2s8zalSNkvgZfS-PpIKkC/s1600/Crowds2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-xus6jJpvntlF1jye69tr5k69P-gcUSVNZ4QAtET9D0CNIzsnQDy09ay6q5TvhsByPCYFoQaVbnjWOTGJzs97vf-WNBdXkmqDFFL-EfHaBmgdjjtLJRrko2N2s8zalSNkvgZfS-PpIKkC/s1600/Crowds2.jpg" height="320" width="212" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Finding room to roll amidst the crowds</i></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div style="text-align: left;">
</div>
<span style="font-size: small;">Almost immediately we hit a downhill stretch amidst a throng
of thousands of runners packed shoulder to shoulder.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It was far too noisy to communicate by voice.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I was having no problem keeping up with
the two.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They sensed the downhill
grade and pushed forward.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Heidi,
being taller, and hence, more visible, took point and raced up ahead.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Anne ran just to the side of my front
wheel.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The technique they
improvised worked amazingly well.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Heidi plowed through the crowds, I followed in her wake, and Anne screened
me with the ferocity of an offensive tackle, zealously guarding the space that
Heidi had opened.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: small;">All three of us shouted ahead to clear the runners. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>At water stations we moved to the center
of the street and slowed to a walk.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>We used this technique for the rest of the course.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>On the uphill grades we slowed and
Heidi and Anne would catch their breath. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>On the downhill sections, they sprinted flat out.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>On a few spots where I caught a long
open stretch, I would pass them and crank flat-out.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: small;">It seemed like only minutes later that we left Harlem and started
up the Willis Avenue Bridge.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I had
just witnessed an amazing transformation.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Before the flat tire these two ladies had not been challenged by our
race.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They had enjoyed the sights
and the experience, but in terms of flexing their muscles, they were itching
for a run. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Between mile 12 and 16,
we were held back by the flat.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But
after mile 16, there was nothing holding us back except the crowds.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>New York is the world’s biggest stage for a marathoner.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Both were eager
to make the most of their debut.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: small;">Anne is an accomplished runner and marathoner.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She established her prowess on the
dominant NC State University Women Cross Country team. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>In 2009 she placed second in the women’s
open division at the Shamrock Marathon.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>She finished that event in 2:52, only 48 seconds behind the first place winner.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But injuries and the recent loss of
both her parents made her set aside marathon aspirations.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The New York Marathon had been one of
those aspirations.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Getting back onto
the course with a close friend like Heidi in a non-competitive role like
guiding turned out to be the perfect emotional boost.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“It was so much more than a race for me, it was a way for me
to start placing the pieces of my life back together,” Anne reflected.</span></div>
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKwddfPQ1RN1dzqyfRFCvxm5rpAhKCwUp5Yv-brIw-LDw8xup1wiD7VhbieLWrNEo8Kk4H5tVeAq5pwypmd1hQvRWk5IYyrIiU5MFpy3dqZ8M6CymwoUc4USBEr3rnhBl5dlrpVMZGnJRW/s1600/InIt.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKwddfPQ1RN1dzqyfRFCvxm5rpAhKCwUp5Yv-brIw-LDw8xup1wiD7VhbieLWrNEo8Kk4H5tVeAq5pwypmd1hQvRWk5IYyrIiU5MFpy3dqZ8M6CymwoUc4USBEr3rnhBl5dlrpVMZGnJRW/s1600/InIt.jpg" height="211" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Marathoners Heidi and Anne</i></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Heidi, too, was ready for a comeback after a hiatus from the
marathon. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>In her first marathon
attempt 10 years ago, she surprised herself by qualifying for Boston.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>After Boston she ran 12 more marathons
with a personal record of 2:57.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Bringing
two baby boys into the world changed her lifestyle completely.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Like Anne, marathon training and
aspirations took a back seat in 2009 to the commitments of her family.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“When Paul offered this opportunity, it
was just the push I needed to get back into the marathon,” Heidi shared.</div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="color: #3d85c6;"><i><b>Bronx: Get ‘er done!</b></i></span></span></div>
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKLQFuQMxHsqw13ipY9G-Hc0YSQep_mLHlC5viaE2b81Q6l8BOeM47tvZj5iztjdw-jwM-QPAhrgCnA1MLx0STtpwiqFcKGgXro4S55UZ-GS2qtxc2-MFsOLVXXEfHXPJts6bEpa6-8DnT/s1600/Happy+face.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKLQFuQMxHsqw13ipY9G-Hc0YSQep_mLHlC5viaE2b81Q6l8BOeM47tvZj5iztjdw-jwM-QPAhrgCnA1MLx0STtpwiqFcKGgXro4S55UZ-GS2qtxc2-MFsOLVXXEfHXPJts6bEpa6-8DnT/s1600/Happy+face.jpg" height="400" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Finally things were going well. </i></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
At mile 20 we crossed the Willis Avenue Bridge into The
Bronx.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The two women running before
me were on a mission.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They had
transformed into a people-moving machine that tore through the streets of New
York at a breathtaking pace.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It
was amazing to see their responsiveness to each other as they found the path of
least resistance.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>At times I was
hesitant to exert all-out in such a heavy crowd, but the two never once let me
down.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It seemed the faster I went,
the faster they would clear the path.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>“I think Anne and I surprised ourselves with the way we were able to
plow folks out of the way and with how much of a thrill we got doing it,” Heidi
later reflected.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I never guessed
how much of a role their close friendship would play in the success of our team,
but as Heidi put it, “…whatever it is we do, we want to do it the best we
possibly can!”<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br /></div>
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPvNNdGu5bfG4te_fnNON5Qhb1dqcqXjNgxNeTR9zNWwA2Cp5IIc8988lduuzqjrtmFOBxh-OYTA5Qvu7zrsiGBrbCJG9MeduaBg0xwb40YSeomCfnVLRCmFVKc8F18mmLHaCAznttnCbI/s1600/CP.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPvNNdGu5bfG4te_fnNON5Qhb1dqcqXjNgxNeTR9zNWwA2Cp5IIc8988lduuzqjrtmFOBxh-OYTA5Qvu7zrsiGBrbCJG9MeduaBg0xwb40YSeomCfnVLRCmFVKc8F18mmLHaCAznttnCbI/s1600/CP.jpg" height="152" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>The final mile</i></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Of my four trips down Fifth Avenue, the last few miles of
the race, I have never felt such a boost of energy. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I enjoyed the race so much at that point I was tempted to
slow down and savor the last few miles.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>But on the heels of Heidi and Anne, with millions of screaming New
Yorkers lining the streets, our trio entered Central Park and cruised through
the crowds to the finish line.</div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="color: #3d85c6;"><i><b>Success?</b></i></span></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj54XLHL0eKA6iqzvM7RjgzUIUrR5iUK7m8-JgUDtqlw2-p1Fl2C3JaWwMpiVWIsh6hi4ImjtabKIq1j7LZ9hlCwChyxKvqWeuPOvaTKg10xxKdqk9d_hyphenhypheng7jSPCp7S9rwmzOUx8vUQ_MmT/s1600/NYCFinish.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj54XLHL0eKA6iqzvM7RjgzUIUrR5iUK7m8-JgUDtqlw2-p1Fl2C3JaWwMpiVWIsh6hi4ImjtabKIq1j7LZ9hlCwChyxKvqWeuPOvaTKg10xxKdqk9d_hyphenhypheng7jSPCp7S9rwmzOUx8vUQ_MmT/s1600/NYCFinish.jpg" height="266" width="400" /></a></div>
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In retrospect, I could not have asked for more out of this
marathon.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>If I had not succumbed
to the flat tire, at the speeds we tore through Manhattan, we would have beaten
the 4:30 goal I set for myself.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>But absent the added challenge, I don’t know that that I would have
pushed myself as hard.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Or if Heidi
and Anne would have either. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Once
we hit the streets after our delay, there was new purpose in their steps and a
more focused, shared determination in our hearts.</div>
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It was not the New York personal record I had hoped
for.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Our time was 5:41.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Either of my guides could have easily
run this race almost two hours quicker.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>But their speed had its effect. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>After significant delays, we made up enough time in the most
congested miles of the course that our time was within <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">six minutes</i> of my PR for the course!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
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<br /></div>
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Both Heidi and Anne were moved by the experience working
with AWDs.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Heidi credits the
experience with, “opening my eyes to what it takes for an AWD to not only get
to the starting line but also what it takes just to get through the course. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It was incredibly humbling and
motivating to be around such an upbeat and determined group of people.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>For Anne, the experience was spiritual;
she drew on an inner strength derived from the memory of her parents. “From
this experience I now stand tall on my own two feet; for the first time as a
true adult and I'm facing the sunshine. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I know that my family extends so much further past its
physical characteristics. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I know
that I will never truly be alone.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span></div>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzByBK1oMO8DYl7GB9Kyb35d6qyyYNLbZD-ftiF0u29C9L6N8g1-ddFp42pFA5DcSSqyF-zZMNoRzSMOp9OCcKzjPlCIdhcdhM7WA1NL2xe_-4TNp_5MFnvFO9Swzca0TRYFS7j_QaoGhK/s1600/Tipping.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzByBK1oMO8DYl7GB9Kyb35d6qyyYNLbZD-ftiF0u29C9L6N8g1-ddFp42pFA5DcSSqyF-zZMNoRzSMOp9OCcKzjPlCIdhcdhM7WA1NL2xe_-4TNp_5MFnvFO9Swzca0TRYFS7j_QaoGhK/s1600/Tipping.jpg" height="225" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>After the race the two gals savor a hard-earned accomplishment</i></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
For me, the experience was an undeniable success.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>If I had to recap the sum of the
experience that day, I would have to recant Anne’s insightful words:<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“When God gives you a flat tire, just
keep peddling until you find the bike shop at the end of the bridge.” <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Words we can all live by.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxchYnsS3emDaPkZSpW-xRnTtFT8CrkeEHXrKUdIZF2pacCEkHRx4n-RSkJo3Aeot28Zu5QxFcaFBYFIUs8DK8dgk8jFQfr7aN2ycir00hUQKN5rRU_BNz8TMuF-8LW3hkMEGE9XCu7zfj/s1600/DSC_5704.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxchYnsS3emDaPkZSpW-xRnTtFT8CrkeEHXrKUdIZF2pacCEkHRx4n-RSkJo3Aeot28Zu5QxFcaFBYFIUs8DK8dgk8jFQfr7aN2ycir00hUQKN5rRU_BNz8TMuF-8LW3hkMEGE9XCu7zfj/s200/DSC_5704.jpg" height="132" width="200" /></a></div>
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<br />
<br />
<span style="color: #f1c232;"><i><span style="font-size: x-large;">2008 Miles of Hope</span></i></span><br />
<br />
With the help of my beloved wife, Sally, and support from hundreds of great people like Anne and Heidi I have been fortunate enough to complete 77 marathons and half marathons. This is my way of raising money for and awareness of a great cause, <a href="http://hopeforthewarriors.org/" target="_blank">Hope for The Warriors.</a> Hope looks out for our Nation's wounded service members, their families, and the families of the fallen. <br />
</div>
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The
world in which we live and the freedoms we enjoy would be vastly
different without the dedication and sacrifice of our nation’s service
men and women. We owe them so much. Freedom is not free. </div>
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<br />
Please help with a donation to my fundraising campaign. All the money we raise goes to <a href="http://hopeforthewarriors.org/" target="_blank">Hope For The Warriors.</a> Learn about the great things they do.<br />
<br />
Please make a secure online donation at my donation page: <a href="http://www.active.com/donate/2008miles" target="_blank">2008 Miles of Hope</a> donations page. <br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #0000ee;"><u><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: black;"></span></u></span></div>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #0000ee;"><u><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: black;"><br /></span></u></span></div>
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LetsRollhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02704108831138764554noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1195166657047014867.post-62259859951584465092013-04-22T19:02:00.001-07:002013-04-22T19:02:04.202-07:00Message of Hope <span style="color: #3d85c6;"><i><span style="font-size: large;">We're still out here:</span></i></span><br />
<br />
<a href="http://www.wcti12.com/news/Quadriplegic-marathoner-brings-message-of-hope/-/13530444/19851314/-/ikk2ym/-/index.html" target="_blank">News Channel 12 story</a><br />
<br />
<a href="http://hopeforthewarriors.blogspot.com/2013/04/inspiration-is-contagious.html" target="_blank">Hope For The Warriors blog</a><br />
<br />
Join us at the 2013 Run For The Warriors:<br />
<a href="http://www.hopeforthewarriors.org/story/18838753/run-for-the-warriors" target="_blank">Run For The Warrrirors</a><br />
<br />
LetsRoll!LetsRollhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02704108831138764554noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1195166657047014867.post-30451844871474685292013-01-25T18:30:00.001-08:002013-02-10T19:26:21.850-08:00Redshift<br />
<i><span style="color: #3d85c6; font-size: large;">Putting together what I’ve learned</span></i><br />
<br />
This blog post is somewhat different than those that precede. Most of those prior posts shared my excitement over an event or an accomplishment. This one will be similar in those regards. This post, however, is intended to share a little technology that I have recently put to use. So pardon me in advance if I get a little geeky. There is some information here that can hopefully benefit folks with disabilities like mine. And for others, maybe there is some inspiration of your inner creative genius that will allow others to do more with what they have.<br />
<br />
I have used two handbikes for years, a Quickie CycleOne I call, “Tortoise,” and a Top End XLT I call “Hare.” Tortoise is generally my exercise bike. It attaches to my wheelchair and is useful for getting around town without having to use a power wheelchair. Because transferring to a recumbent handbike is more difficult, Hare only got on the road for longer distances including a number of half and full “Harethons.” I wanted something a little more competitive than Hare and something a little more reliable. The Top End XLT has a number of features that are less than ideal for me. I wanted something that would give me better hill-climbing ability, easier turning, and more gears-both higher and lower.<br />
<br />
So you understand me a little better, I’m a C-6 quadriplegic, complete. I’m a little stronger on the left side but I am right handed so I tend to do the more complex tactile functions with my weaker side. I’m 5’ 11” and around 175 pounds or so. I have good biceps but no triceps. I have no grasp but a slight pinch through tenodesis movement of my wrists.<br />
<br />
There was not a handbike on the market that would fulfill all of my needs and objectives so I eventually decided to embark upon a project of modifying a new handbike for my unique needs as a quad. It turned out that several mods would be required to make a bike “quad-friendly,” but it turned out to be the synergy of those mods together that made the outcome so exciting.<br />
<br />
<span style="color: #3d85c6; font-size: large;"><i>The bike</i></span><br />
<br />
It seems to me that everywhere I go these days, the popular ride of choice is the Top End Force in all its various configurations. Bike-On also modifies a Force with a set of <a href="http://bike-on.com/product/quad-elite-handcycle-quad-elite-handcycle-426.htm" rel="nofollow" target="_blank">modifications specifically for quadriplegics</a>. My hat is off to Scott Pellet at <a href="http://bike-on.com/" rel="nofollow" target="_blank">Bike-On</a> for working so diligently to bring the sport to so many us folks with higher-level disabilities.<br />
<br />
My own disability is about as high as anyone whom I have seen on a handbike. Just the cycle of transferring on and off from my everyday wheelchair consumes an hour of my and my wife’s time. One of my biggest problems with handbike is steering. There is a blessing/curse in cycling called rotational inertia. It’s the force that makes a spinning top resist falling over. On an upright bike, you don’t turn the front wheel to turn the bike. You lean in the direction you wan to turn and the rotational inertia of the wheels generates a force to turn the bike and counteract your leaning.<br />
<br />
On a three-wheeled handbike, the bike doesn’t lean. You actually have to force the front wheel left or right against its rotational inertia to turn the bike. There is very little force required at slow speeds. It is quite a bit at higher speeds. Most handbikes have condition known as “wheel flop” built into the front end geometry. Wheel flop is basically a tendency for the wheel to “flop” to the left or right in the absence of rotational inertia. The tendency to “flop” correlates to a tendency to turn hence it offsets some of the difficulty steering at riding speeds. On the other hand, at low speeds, the wheel flop itself is difficult to overcome if the front end is quite top-heavy as was the case with Hare. I was hoping for higher speeds so I need a steering geometry that is as easy as possible. My ‘turning muscles’ are pretty weak. One of the reasons that I opted not to go with a Force handcycle was that I felt the steering would be harder than I wanted.<br />
<br />
I chose the <a href="http://freedomryder.com/" rel="nofollow" target="_blank">Freedom Ryder FRH-1</a> because from the limited analysis and observations I was able to perform, it looked like the FRH-1 was about the easiest-steering bike available to me. It did, however pose some challenges, as would any bike. I need:<br />
<ul>
<li>Grips that give me positive engagement with the cranks </li>
<li>Grips that I can separate my hands from and reengage quickly</li>
<li>Shifting I can operate without taking my hands off grips</li>
<li>Thoracic supports for trunk stability</li>
<li>Braking I can apply without grasp and without taking my hands off the grips</li>
</ul>
So, for the techno-geeky types, this blog post is the story about how I implemented these features and how I continue to refine them. I first rode the Freedom Ryder about 7 months ago without any mods except the grips. As of this post, I’ve accumulated over 1,300 miles on the bike in various stages of the mods you will read about herein. I would have posted this article sooner, but frankly, I’ve been having too much fun riding the bike.<br />
<br />
<span style="color: #3d85c6; font-size: large;"><i>QuadGrips</i></span><br />
<br />
The <a href="http://www.quadgrips.com/" rel="nofollow" target="_blank">QuadGrips</a> by James Watson are, simply, the best grips for quads out there. I did my own trials of Top End tri-pins, Quickie V-grips, the C-5 Grips, and the German-made Stricker quad grips. After a few years of experimenting, numerous blisters, and more than a little blood spilled, I started trying to design a grip myself which turned out to be a lot like what James Watson came up with. My approach was to attach the tri-pin grip to a bicycle pedal but attach the front pin vertically vice horizontally. It worked out pretty good. James Watson’s grips work far better, though.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKQbg-iR8JVSID8LlSZW49srehyp8b_5ome5_vLOYf1xVNeoOLx9c9jP5rx8bvBgpR1jyoc0XLZQp7XBYEhiz8ZhjrYKIrmCYaaWoNW5cDr1kKEBpddtCRHbmRUOHeqI-4XfhpkYMGjZRU/s1600/DSC_8890.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKQbg-iR8JVSID8LlSZW49srehyp8b_5ome5_vLOYf1xVNeoOLx9c9jP5rx8bvBgpR1jyoc0XLZQp7XBYEhiz8ZhjrYKIrmCYaaWoNW5cDr1kKEBpddtCRHbmRUOHeqI-4XfhpkYMGjZRU/s1600/DSC_8890.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-size: small; text-align: -webkit-auto;">Here is my homemade quad grip built from a modified tri-pin grip </span><span style="font-size: small; text-align: -webkit-auto;">installed on a Quickie CycleOne</span></i></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
As a quad, I don’t grasp the handle; it grasps me. The ability to detach your hand and reattach it quickly is the ‘game-changer’ with James Watson’s QuadGrips. His website is full of pictures and videos of the advantages of his grips. He is also a great person and willing to share his technical advice and suggestions. It takes a bit of adjusting to find the best combination of all the adjustments available with QuadGrips. They don’t come with a foolproof procedure for adjusting them. All I can say is if they are not working great for you, then you don’t have them adjusted quite right. I don’t have any specific procedures, either, except to suggest that when you are trying different settings and you don’t know whether to go one way or the other, do both. Adjust one hand one way and the other hand the other way. You will find out pretty quickly which one works best. Also, I found the fit after 15 minutes of use was different than when I started out. So if you adjust them during your ride, don’t un-adjust them when they seem not to work at the beginning of your next day’s ride.<br />
<br />
James told me a lot of things about his grips that I would have dismissed as salesman-speak except that from my own experimentations, I knew to be true. When he told me about operating an index shifter by extending my wrist, I was skeptical; or at least in my case, with only the slight functionality in my right wrist. He had turned out to be accurate in nearly every other suggestion he made so I decided to give it a try. The exact position of the shifter lever turns out to be a very sensitive adjustment, but lucky for James’ reputation, we hit the sweet spot right away. I could shift up and down the cassette without taking a hand off the grip! I rode around the neighborhood all night, a shiftin’ fool. <br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBnSnlJ2l3myPOda7NW0cFsEOaXpLgRgWPsheapEzf60B8p_5_innuDCEsDO7vhk9Mim3K3MEikJxJxrFzoUgHss8UhZswJAAbMvoLue5-XNK_Xv1eaVyRlGdDjR6TuLMwGoAJEYqMdV8-/s1600/DSC_0691.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="265" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBnSnlJ2l3myPOda7NW0cFsEOaXpLgRgWPsheapEzf60B8p_5_innuDCEsDO7vhk9Mim3K3MEikJxJxrFzoUgHss8UhZswJAAbMvoLue5-XNK_Xv1eaVyRlGdDjR6TuLMwGoAJEYqMdV8-/s1600/DSC_0691.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><div style="font-size: medium; text-align: center;">
<i>Shifting ‘up’ on the cassette by flexing my wrist</i></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj90ghnlv1raucQYqMBtLwBAdYK9P3CbZHkUYcyaCSiujXb4i1IKK-ZW_F4RYNz-VKk44A2rHL0HvuHC92VBkVSTotrTTDWUb3lLgukaUtO-Mp0YEpgVfPIG2TMvZewvR7aXUnl1ZYU_v0x/s1600/DSC_0694.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="265" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj90ghnlv1raucQYqMBtLwBAdYK9P3CbZHkUYcyaCSiujXb4i1IKK-ZW_F4RYNz-VKk44A2rHL0HvuHC92VBkVSTotrTTDWUb3lLgukaUtO-Mp0YEpgVfPIG2TMvZewvR7aXUnl1ZYU_v0x/s1600/DSC_0694.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small; text-align: -webkit-auto;"><i>Shifting ‘down’ on the cassette by extending my wrist</i></span></td></tr>
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I have found that adding a grip to the shift lever improves the traction of my pinkie knuckle on the shift lever.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1KRk64nJwiHbVymGnVhJwaMjm5JEPjMcyT6APLyLaeSLtjaoGa48XKnWqjM-ukZW34lBjkcm-fyq3VyGoGQUXDY-l9SHOXQrmQEABPJtdNXmx7JJtLodq2QEJIiyYWhHwnoTMLZqFlqm_/s1600/DSC_0695.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="265" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1KRk64nJwiHbVymGnVhJwaMjm5JEPjMcyT6APLyLaeSLtjaoGa48XKnWqjM-ukZW34lBjkcm-fyq3VyGoGQUXDY-l9SHOXQrmQEABPJtdNXmx7JJtLodq2QEJIiyYWhHwnoTMLZqFlqm_/s1600/DSC_0695.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small; text-align: -webkit-auto;"><i>I added grips to the LX shifter to give a little more positive contact with the back of my hand.</i></span></td></tr>
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<i><span style="color: #3d85c6; font-size: large;"><br /></span></i>
<i><span style="color: #3d85c6; font-size: large;">Thoracic Lateral Supports</span></i><br />
<br />
When I first rode the FRH, I did not have any lateral supports installed. It felt a little shaky since I don’t have any lower abdominal strength. After riding the bike a bit, I was starting to enjoy being able to lean hard to the left and right as I set up for turns. I started to feel like I would not install them. Logic told me that I could have a lot of fun without them as long as everything stayed under my control, but only a fool would believe that that would always be the case. <br />
<br />
As a quad, I don’t have much trunk stability. Reclining with the FRH’s articulating backrest makes me fairly stable in the fore-and-aft axis but in the side-to-side axis, my stability came from hanging on tight to the QuadGrips.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMTfVMSjOgu1gNLZML2zY90lYBfCXkOMxCKneiypIZanpFYJAlEewF-OPowx9ZD11GfNMQz274EjsyyMOn-QW6IDIvePMlPIW47pzd8diIhYxGLMCHkDaF1BhukS4ktmt7cn-uBCvl-dXH/s1600/DSC_0138.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="265" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMTfVMSjOgu1gNLZML2zY90lYBfCXkOMxCKneiypIZanpFYJAlEewF-OPowx9ZD11GfNMQz274EjsyyMOn-QW6IDIvePMlPIW47pzd8diIhYxGLMCHkDaF1BhukS4ktmt7cn-uBCvl-dXH/s1600/DSC_0138.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small; text-align: -webkit-auto;"><i>Riding without lateral supports installed</i></span></td></tr>
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The FRH has the ability to make sharp turns through corners faster than I am strong enough to control it. That fact means I can find myself with enough lateral G-force to lose my balance. If I counteract by pulling against the grips, that will only tighten the turn and increase the force de-stabilizing me. After I installed the lateral supports, I had two great advantages, one of which I had not foreseen.<br />
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The first advantage is the obvious one, the added trunk stability. The other advantage the lateral supports offer is they enable me to make turns much faster and tighter than without them. The faster the front wheel spins, the more rotational inertia it builds. That rotational inertia resists me trying to turn the wheel. On a handbike, you have to muscle that front wheel against that inertia in order to make it turn. It literally takes strong muscles in parts of the arms, back, and chest that I can’t use. Picture yourself holding a heavy book straight in front of you and then moving it to the left and to the right except against strong resistance. You would be using those ‘steering’ muscles. <br />
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Most quads have fairly strong biceps and when locked into QuadGrips, can pull on the cranks very hard. The lateral supports, when positioned correctly, give the quad the ability to plant one elbow against the end of the pad. Doing so will allow him/her to lock the crank in that rotational position. When he/she pulls on the crank with the other arm, it can result in some ‘breathtaking’ turn rates. I can enter a u-turn on a normal width two-lane road at 7 mph and turn sharp enough to complete the u-turn without running out of pavement.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjC8usDjQuEP7IU17rNZDx0KvO5iiLr1Pf-Q3msR3eGr88t_CQjdLat9J74poBtpLA9gbrL4oRKoIUtXy2rIBcMwbMm7xgSFs43tvUVpIrDb184yaJfvSa_lA_AqbpAOg5AMNxcnkKbIWc0/s1600/DSC_0230.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="265" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjC8usDjQuEP7IU17rNZDx0KvO5iiLr1Pf-Q3msR3eGr88t_CQjdLat9J74poBtpLA9gbrL4oRKoIUtXy2rIBcMwbMm7xgSFs43tvUVpIrDb184yaJfvSa_lA_AqbpAOg5AMNxcnkKbIWc0/s1600/DSC_0230.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small; text-align: -webkit-auto;"><i>The left thoracic lateral support is seen behind my elbow. They can significantly aid in turning by allowing the rider to turn using the stronger biceps muscles.</i></span></td></tr>
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The added turning ability the lateral supports offer makes them a must for a quad, in my opinion. There is a significant risk with their use, however, but a greater one if they are not used. The risk is that the quad becomes dependent on using the supports for faster turn. The faster the turns, the more wear and tear the equipment experiences. If the lateral supports break, it will be at a time of maximum stress, i.e., fastest turning. Hence my ‘don’t try this at home’ disclaimer: If you wish to copy my application of the lateral supports, keep this fact in mind as you design them and maintain them.<br />
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The supports I used have some modifications. The model I use has the swing-away feature which is very handy for transferring, but the swing away bracket significantly reduces the strength of the bracket and is much more prone to catastrophic failure. If the swing-away bracket were replaced with a solid aluminum bar, the danger of breakage would essentially be eliminated. My brackets also have a quick-release feature hence the entire bracket slides out when you retract a retaining knob. Simply removing the lateral support using the quick-release feature would be adequate to give you the clearance necessary for transfers. <br />
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There are also some quick-release brackets without the swing-away feature that should also eliminate the failure mode. I simply haven’t had time to research the dimensions to select an equivalent replacement.<br />
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The FRH-1 back has an aluminum sheet metal plate that is not strong enough for mounting the lateral supports directly. I had <a href="http://bircherinc.com/" rel="nofollow" target="_blank">Bircher, Inc.</a>, make a stiffener from high-strength aluminum. The stiffener attaches to the seat back and the mounting brackets for the lateral supports install on the stiffener. The photos below show the design. Again, a caveat: note that proper surface treatment and corrosion prevention are important when using the high strength aluminum.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbabSNFPcIltW4lHlq9y73tyhae9VrrS0f9o65xfvZblkVZakMa-suiMiSwn_yi9HtNiPJg0qlR9mhD5CHTqFMSB2KfkG2tCyxEHdfwwziMIjFjz7NgfqbbsyFCb5xZ9czJI4Nw139N2N9/s1600/DSC_0202.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="265" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbabSNFPcIltW4lHlq9y73tyhae9VrrS0f9o65xfvZblkVZakMa-suiMiSwn_yi9HtNiPJg0qlR9mhD5CHTqFMSB2KfkG2tCyxEHdfwwziMIjFjz7NgfqbbsyFCb5xZ9czJI4Nw139N2N9/s1600/DSC_0202.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small; text-align: -webkit-auto;"><i>Backrest stiffener shown with lateral supports attached. Depressing the red lever allows the pad to swing outward. Pulling the silver pin on the bracket mount allows the bracket to be positioned inward or outward or completely removed.</i></span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_0SnQtOmXgpJLOt13fG7cukjqUGoQDEeY7hbBatjx5TnGI5TxMADbuAsAc-M6SoMZeqnzOYqE_EbLj01KD1QM_g_vy2AyR1NQyTfia1pgBTBFAtJfzNYbgJiX1MbDhzkTnmt9iwjc99Ib/s1600/DSC_0203.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="265" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_0SnQtOmXgpJLOt13fG7cukjqUGoQDEeY7hbBatjx5TnGI5TxMADbuAsAc-M6SoMZeqnzOYqE_EbLj01KD1QM_g_vy2AyR1NQyTfia1pgBTBFAtJfzNYbgJiX1MbDhzkTnmt9iwjc99Ib/s1600/DSC_0203.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small; text-align: -webkit-auto;"><i>The stiffener is attached to the back plate and will carry the load of the lateral supports directly to the FRH-1 frame. The holes in the stiffener are threaded. The screws pull the back plate up tight against the stiffener; the screws are then secured with self-locking nuts. The longer screws extend through the mounting holes on the bike frame.</i></span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsbPx74xSWRuiohNW98beo99_q5kXhYFKK4hjXnJkf2YFSWLJIKku8wTvq9RQg_0NLe8myLlqSMyJcSpMw7HDJToa6xQh4w5LC-GW_MeXMfCHdzJfg6Z47zzgte3hZqdLcFUegOdpZZfPD/s1600/DSC_0206.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="265" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsbPx74xSWRuiohNW98beo99_q5kXhYFKK4hjXnJkf2YFSWLJIKku8wTvq9RQg_0NLe8myLlqSMyJcSpMw7HDJToa6xQh4w5LC-GW_MeXMfCHdzJfg6Z47zzgte3hZqdLcFUegOdpZZfPD/s1600/DSC_0206.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small; text-align: -webkit-auto;"><i>The front of the back plate. The screws are flat head with finishing washers.</i></span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6YZHS1XLd6E-YGQHbQTw_0t-skg2enpDCJt1W8hyphenhyphenszIHbOPZd3OUj_YreRnXEFdIiG2I0F2gsx-vJz2X2hJS9dx5pFLgsAJiCDgPn5Ue2fARxwMD24fWkM2-fO1OJA4WDYDNjAazdJ5da/s1600/DSC_0213.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="265" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6YZHS1XLd6E-YGQHbQTw_0t-skg2enpDCJt1W8hyphenhyphenszIHbOPZd3OUj_YreRnXEFdIiG2I0F2gsx-vJz2X2hJS9dx5pFLgsAJiCDgPn5Ue2fARxwMD24fWkM2-fO1OJA4WDYDNjAazdJ5da/s1600/DSC_0213.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small; text-align: -webkit-auto;"><i>All assembled and ready to install.</i></span></td></tr>
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Once I got the lateral supports installed and operating on my FRH-1, I started losing skin in large areas on my elbows and forearms. I immediately had to modify the lateral supports to keep from bleeding to death at my second favorite activity. Notice in the picture above how there is a Z- bracket attached to the padded part of the lateral support. The mounting brackets stick out and the padded supports are positioned inward with the Z-bracket.<br />
<br />
I wanted the mounting bracket moved inward and wanted to reverse the offset provided by the Z-brackets so as to get the swing-away brackets out of the way of my elbows. Step one was to shorten the quick-release brackets so I could slide the swing-away bracket in closer. The quick-release bracket was longer than needed and it was limited in its depth it could adjust because it would bottom out against the FRH backrest mount. I had Bircher, Inc., shorten the bracket. <br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhURWMIB1aB1BRpUBj8UyhZw7T13EmBW4j34E1xxBIZuuzP5lyese0IMccwN6wB8BpM-nUruwJJloL_QSlkWCP5HbBEEazotd95zhyphenhyphenKxXDGIiRqB7DCOGHgJUhRqdZKf-nzGQmQgtYrit9i/s1600/DSC_0703.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="265" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhURWMIB1aB1BRpUBj8UyhZw7T13EmBW4j34E1xxBIZuuzP5lyese0IMccwN6wB8BpM-nUruwJJloL_QSlkWCP5HbBEEazotd95zhyphenhyphenKxXDGIiRqB7DCOGHgJUhRqdZKf-nzGQmQgtYrit9i/s1600/DSC_0703.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small; text-align: -webkit-auto;"><i>This picture shows the various mods and features for the Thoracic Lateral Supports.</i></span></td></tr>
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With the brackets shortened and adjusted inward and with the Z-brackets offsetting the pads inward, the spacing would have been too narrow for my trunk. It was not simply a matter of flipping the Z-brackets. The Z-brackets would not install on the pads in that direction. So I flipped the entire pad with Z-bracket attached. I installed the left one on the right and the right one on the left. That took care of the offset but because the pads are curved, they were then curving outward. I used a sophisticated metal bender, a Ford model E-250. I placed the pad under the wheel such that the weight would reverse the bend. It did the trick. The picture below shows the finished product with the mounting brackets shortened and moved inward. The pads are swapped and the curvature is reversed, all of which has moved the hard metal parts well inward and away from my elbows. I also added D-rings to the back of the seat to attach a Camelbak.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0h7ov0zi3v-YS97XQHBa2sirZMW8xYa5oNrstyIo9geyi1U3YDGDDP_KE_9tfSZ32JaTV2t3jWWmSoTMVryt4QG5SQuc3_jPpYpB4JOZGezCIUAP8jl-CdSJUphiWbn6Uepd3jqz-Dd-2/s1600/DSC_0706.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="265" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0h7ov0zi3v-YS97XQHBa2sirZMW8xYa5oNrstyIo9geyi1U3YDGDDP_KE_9tfSZ32JaTV2t3jWWmSoTMVryt4QG5SQuc3_jPpYpB4JOZGezCIUAP8jl-CdSJUphiWbn6Uepd3jqz-Dd-2/s1600/DSC_0706.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small; text-align: -webkit-auto;"><i>All of the HARD-ware is now tucked in behind the seat. With the support pads reversed, the lateral supports are about as compact as you can make them.</i></span></td></tr>
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I made a few other mods based on my experience with lateral supports. I took out the hinge pin and replaced it with a socket-head cap screw with a self-locking nut. I had experienced problems with the hinge pin backing out in the past. Again, if you try to copy me, note that the pin is tapered so you can only remove it in one direction. I also removed and replaced all the attaching screws and added medium strength thread locker. I did the same for all the mounting screws attaching the backrest stiffener to the back plate and the screws attaching the quick-release brackets to the backrest stiffener. Again, if anyone tries to do this, I recommend you forego the swing-away feature and its wear problems unless you have a specialized need. For transferring, the brackets can be removed with the quick-release knob.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEuKoiGQAmZaoXknWS2aF9Ml7SGY2GaP-32wCFmQ9L2iqEbFXmoxwQByEgGefkjic_o60NRK8XGzhglW73-PqxAolKJH4GHDZ71wO22456m3jtpP3aHKuwevQV6YjbnaMvYMGw6tZljtbX/s1600/DSC_0711.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="265" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEuKoiGQAmZaoXknWS2aF9Ml7SGY2GaP-32wCFmQ9L2iqEbFXmoxwQByEgGefkjic_o60NRK8XGzhglW73-PqxAolKJH4GHDZ71wO22456m3jtpP3aHKuwevQV6YjbnaMvYMGw6tZljtbX/s1600/DSC_0711.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small; text-align: -webkit-auto;"><i>A lot of work went into the lateral supports. For a high quad like myself, turning is difficult because muscling the cranks left and right demands the use of muscles unavailable. However, by bracing one elbow against the end of the lateral support (left, in this case), the cranks will not rotate. When the rider pulls with the other crank using biceps, the front end turns (to the right, in this case) and the rider can literally achieve the maximum turning speeds available from the ultra-nimble FRH-1.</i></span></td></tr>
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<i style="color: #3d85c6; font-size: x-large;"><br /></i>
<i style="color: #3d85c6; font-size: x-large;">Bike-On Quad Brake</i><br />
<br />
I sat on these ideas and read and researched for a long time before I started fastening metal. The first thing I did was to get on the bike and ride with the brake/shift levers installed on an accessory bar that Mike, from Freedom Ryder, gave me with the bike. It is an arrow shaped device made of 3/4 " welded steel tubing. I had it installed with the brake/shifters installed forward of the crankset. There is a lot of adjustability in the position of the crankset on the FRH-1 and that makes this a great choice for a quad. <br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibMUHw6NGQsfRdObWHISFI-alnFeGZ0wcEBthO6EW0z6jRpbM8VjQbic5djn7VluOZBT3CXANmhc1ijFrTy_ELgF43tCrsU9ppSxlz6ramyvovNjiGDsEiwMhaKyCr3dSl4uBpr08lEF7t/s1600/DSC_0135.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="265" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibMUHw6NGQsfRdObWHISFI-alnFeGZ0wcEBthO6EW0z6jRpbM8VjQbic5djn7VluOZBT3CXANmhc1ijFrTy_ELgF43tCrsU9ppSxlz6ramyvovNjiGDsEiwMhaKyCr3dSl4uBpr08lEF7t/s1600/DSC_0135.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td class="tr-caption"><span style="text-align: -webkit-auto;"><i><span style="font-size: small;">Literally the first ride on the new Freedom Ryder with the brake and shifter levers mounted on an accessory bar in front of the crank.</span></i></span></td></tr>
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One constraint for a quad like me is no triceps. That means you want to minimize the need to push anything and position everything that you do have to push lower than shoulder level. That was all possible with the cranks and brakes on the FRH. By lowering the crankset until there is only about 1/2 " clearance between the chainring and my belly, I had the cranks as low as they could go and minimized the amount of pushing necessary in the top/forward sector of the cranking circle.<br />
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I was enjoying riding the FRH with the Deore brakes and shifters so much that I was riding when I should have been engineering. I got hot on the project after trying to make a sharp left descending turn on a steep hill and had one hand on the grip and the other on the brake. The wheel was turned hard over and there was no way to straighten from the turn without releasing the brake to move my hand to the other grip and committing to the drop. I could envision many scenarios where braking and turning simultaneously would not be optional. The Bike-On Brake was a necessity.<br />
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Mike made a crank spindle for me that was 2 inches longer than the standard FRH-1 spindle. I had <a href="http://bircherinc.com/" rel="nofollow" target="_blank">Bircher Machine</a> make a sleeve for me that slides onto the 3/4” diameter spindle. One end of the sleeve is reduced in diameter to fit inside the bottom bracket lock ring. The other end is drilled and tapped for set screws. <br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLdoiJYUGMIfGYN2AFcKOOcmTCtOu3ykl8tJ5LjNVVvx9lqhxPh4bCOhdc_VfDTHWe5ln3UNEDZ0Le1iejdNHPggrSHJNKqKHygPtgPoZfN8kQ2nf9v54hygDjAv6gT_19b-R7yDDq2YYH/s1600/DSC_0019.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="265" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLdoiJYUGMIfGYN2AFcKOOcmTCtOu3ykl8tJ5LjNVVvx9lqhxPh4bCOhdc_VfDTHWe5ln3UNEDZ0Le1iejdNHPggrSHJNKqKHygPtgPoZfN8kQ2nf9v54hygDjAv6gT_19b-R7yDDq2YYH/s1600/DSC_0019.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small; text-align: -webkit-auto;">The sleeve is not visible but it adapts the 3/4” dia. spindle to the 30 mm bearings. On the right end, the sprag bearing extends up against the bottom bracket lock ring. Since the cable lever is normally not rotating and the cranks are rotating I placed a thrust bearing on the left next to the lever and added shims to cover the sleeves where the set screws are applied. A 3/4” inch washer holds everything in position.</span></td></tr>
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To prevent the brake levers from sliding on the sleeve, the right end of the sprag bearing butts against the bottom bracket lock ring. I placed a thrust bearing and shims against the cable pull lever and slid a 3/4” I.D. washer over the spindle to hold the entire stack-up in place. I found a gap of about a fingernail thickness when I installed the crank arm allowed the sprag bearing to rotate with little drag. By swapping the left and the right cranks, the extra length of the spindle is approximately compensated.<br />
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I added a 7/8” tube under the cable lever to provide a rest for the lever. I padded the end with a ring of rubber cut from the end of a handlebar grip. I attached the tube with a cross clamp from a set of aero handles. For a brake cable stay, I added a second tube mounted into a handlebar stem. Bircher Machine fabricated a plug for the end of the stay with one face milled flat. The plug is drilled and tapped for a adjusting barrel and locking nut.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJjzcq4kHG2_l7wghQTYjMqToIchuKz5dDIonShs66cJVIKLlrc-frSH8MyvaLCBGay6cIwFXz-nPoaUoLGkXIKYGEinhCvnqCysyoKpnthK6p76xmFvCnp8x8s1_97yBhCvGvadJUoPJn/s1600/DSC_0014.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="265" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJjzcq4kHG2_l7wghQTYjMqToIchuKz5dDIonShs66cJVIKLlrc-frSH8MyvaLCBGay6cIwFXz-nPoaUoLGkXIKYGEinhCvnqCysyoKpnthK6p76xmFvCnp8x8s1_97yBhCvGvadJUoPJn/s1600/DSC_0014.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small; text-align: -webkit-auto;"><i>Shows the brake cable stay on the left held in place with a handlebar stem. The brake cable lever on the right rests on a rubber donut cut from the end of a handlebar grip. The rest tube is clamped in place with an aero bar clamp.</i></span></td></tr>
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In use, I find it more practical not to engage the plunger into the hole in the actuator lever. Instead, I leave the plunger extended and let the outside edge of the actuator lever rotate around and contact the plunger. This gives me approximately 3/4 of a rotation backwards before the brake engages. This “play” is particularly useful on a steep hill when I can’t complete the crank rotation over the top. Instead I can row crank my way up the hill or at least for a few strokes to rest until I can make a full rotation.<br />
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Another reason for extending the plunger outside the actuator lever rather than in its hole is that it allows me to choose the spot in the crank arc at which the brake will engage. If the brake engages on a hill when I am rolling backward and the cranks are at a point in their circle where I have no strength, then I will be unable to crank the bike forward out of that spot. By starting my reverse cranking from the spot of my choosing, I can apply my brakes at a point in the crank circle where I have the power to pull out of the stopped position. I can also position the cranks in a favorable steering position when I need to brake and steer simultaneously.<br />
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Note that Scott really doesn’t wish for folks to be tinkering with something as critical as his brake. Hence he doesn’t sell the brake to the general public except as installed on his Quad-Elite bikes. He does sell it to Freedom Ryder these days. If you need a Freedom Ryder and a Bike-On Brake, they are available now, to the best of my knowledge, installed at Freedom Ryder.<br />
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<i style="color: #3d85c6; font-size: x-large;">Shifter and accessory bar</i><br />
<br />
Finally, I added some accessory mounts. In one of the previous pictures you can see some D rings I added to the back of the upper seat back. They are for attaching a Camelbak. I also used an arrow-shaped tubing bracket Mike gave me with the bike. It installs into the horizontal positioning tube on the bottom bracket. I cut the ends off to reduce its size and weight and added 7/8” tubing to it to mount the brake levers. With the disc brake operated by the Bike-On brake actuator, I have the caliper brake wired into the brake lever. I added a cross brake lever to the other side to give me two levers to operate the caliper brake. There are times when it is preferable to use one hand instead of the other because of road crown or other factors. I now have the Bike-On brake for a primary brake and the caliper brake can be operable with either hand as my secondary brake. This whole accessory bar is going to be modified at a future date to be a little lighter and more aerodynamic. I’ll offer one observation regarding placement of brake levers. For a quad without use of triceps, they should be mounted below the height of his/her shoulders for maximum effectiveness.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgx4zXxHKNOV-_VYU-HpojrkQqJutsy_BB01Rxv44NWfDBlwNheEqM5ZrhfEAyhMIAV63DZSPWcxZ8BpSbxZaK8F5WLE_w5G2mOcnE8Zx1f5uWQ6Q5WcOQkQtVN1Bw_w4DIqP33W2pItxHw/s1600/DSC_0490.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="265" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgx4zXxHKNOV-_VYU-HpojrkQqJutsy_BB01Rxv44NWfDBlwNheEqM5ZrhfEAyhMIAV63DZSPWcxZ8BpSbxZaK8F5WLE_w5G2mOcnE8Zx1f5uWQ6Q5WcOQkQtVN1Bw_w4DIqP33W2pItxHw/s1600/DSC_0490.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small; text-align: -webkit-auto;"><i>I also added a short tube perpendicular to the frame to mount accessories. That mount gives me room to mount the lights, GPS, etc. If you notice a number of these pictures are taken at night. I ride at night to avoid the heat that dominates our summer days here in the south.</i></span></td></tr>
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I’m enjoying shifting the gears with the shifter mounted on the QuadGrips. However, I experience muscle spasms sometimes that make my hand clench on the grip. When that happens, I have difficulty flexing my wrist. I may change out the LX shifters in the future to the trigger shifters and relocate them to a bar that I can reach with my chin.<br />
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<i style="color: #3d85c6; font-size: x-large;">Acknowledgements</i><br />
<br />
My quad mods turned out to be better than I expected in terms of the functionality they provided me. It was a lot of work on my part and on the part of my wife, who I might add has demonstrated a considerable bike-mechanic prowess. I need to extend some thanks, however, to some people without whose help, this project would have never started.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhd4agkLDhNtFMVIJlTnepdenP7SUwOI4IfBM0d1qH-MHwolefDHD2hknHhhPRgmVIelNkJhxgpCihlle9C4OHHgOiPQCARcRUYFyEt2vln4-AuyuKlIrtwTZyDbkdmqx2QQs3WediTlryX/s1600/DSC_0485.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="265" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhd4agkLDhNtFMVIJlTnepdenP7SUwOI4IfBM0d1qH-MHwolefDHD2hknHhhPRgmVIelNkJhxgpCihlle9C4OHHgOiPQCARcRUYFyEt2vln4-AuyuKlIrtwTZyDbkdmqx2QQs3WediTlryX/s1600/DSC_0485.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small; text-align: -webkit-auto;"><i>My one-of-a-kind Freedom Ryder FRH-1.</i></span></td></tr>
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First of all there is the incredible bike, the <a href="http://freedomryder.com/FRH-1.htm" rel="nofollow" target="_blank">Freedom Ryder FRH-1</a>, that inherently makes a great handling platform for quads. Its adjustability allows you a lot of options in accommodating specific ergonomic needs. Mike Lofgren spent many evenings in conference with me over the telephone helping me get things the way I needed them. If you are a quad considering a handbike, consider the FRH-1 before you buy. Although, he doesn’t have a web page yet advertising his own quad mods, He has taken these lessons and his own experience to put together his own version of Quad-FRH-1. Visit his website and contact him to learn more about how he has adapted the Bike-On Brake to the Freedom Ryder.<br />
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Speaking of Bike-On, I could have never gotten this bike up to speed without Scott Pellet’s <a href="http://bike-on.com/product/quad-elite-handcycle-quad-elite-handcycle-426.htm" rel="nofollow" target="_blank">Bike-On Brake</a>. I see a lot of European handbike makers with an extensive offering of handbike options for quads. Scott is giving them a run for their money in the USA with his Quad Elite set of options for the Top End Force. The Bike-On Brake is a game-changer for quads. Without the dexterity to squeeze a grip lever, the Bike-On Brake gives you a simple ‘coaster-brake’ operation in a derailleur-geared bike. Look for more great things for quads in the Bike-On inventory in the future.<br />
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Now speaking of burning up the telephone lines, discovering James Watson turned into immediate friendship. Although we never met face-to-face, we hit it off immediately, finding we had a lot of mutually common background. His QuadGrips are another game changer. I’ve tried a number of other solutions, but so far, his are the best grips out there for quads that I have been able to find.<br />
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Locally, I couldn’t have done it without a couple of great gearheads. A big shout of thanks to Steve at Beaufort Bicycles. Steve is never hesitant to take an old bicycle and turn it into some kid’s pride and joy. Steve is never hesitant to tackle any of my wildest experiments and was invaluable getting the Bike-On Brake cabled up and running.<br />
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Another bikeshop that has kept me on the road is <a href="http://www.crystalcoastbicycles.com/" rel="nofollow" target="_blank">Crystal Coast Cycles</a>. Bruce has literally adjusted my brakes and shifters every way conceivable and has solved every problem I could invent with my shifter cables. <br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdcQ60PqrtZthetYZGhDUonqJtv4GhyphenhyphenWDqwLil8jthnHZ9VzjtYMK9UaKtzfS-uKYjVO88fhAxnPjx3MAE7uncGiqOtB7L8qT9tkdY_ObGFQHabkxjq7QCNJU5uCuIUeCLtKGDt3tPym5B/s1600/DSC_0023.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="263" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdcQ60PqrtZthetYZGhDUonqJtv4GhyphenhyphenWDqwLil8jthnHZ9VzjtYMK9UaKtzfS-uKYjVO88fhAxnPjx3MAE7uncGiqOtB7L8qT9tkdY_ObGFQHabkxjq7QCNJU5uCuIUeCLtKGDt3tPym5B/s400/DSC_0023.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>I could never have gotten the shifter</i></span><span style="font-size: small;"><i>s fine-tuned</i></span><span style="font-size: small;"><i> witho<span style="font-size: small;">ut the patience of my friends Bruce and Tricia at Crystal Coast Cycles</span></i></span></td></tr>
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Bruce and I met last April at a charity ride for Hope For The Warriors (you know I had to squeeze in a mention of my favorite charity). I blew a tire in the first mile of the ride and he got me back on the road. No easy feat with Hare. The front wheel on that bike doesn’t come off without a BIG fuss. Since I was essentially left behind by everyone else in the event, Bruce rode with me the whole way. We got to be friends, having the whole course to ourselves. I think we chatted on every bike subject imaginable.<br />
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I’ve never a lot of metal working before so this was a unique design experience for me. I can say that Jim Bircher at <a href="http://bircherinc.com/" rel="nofollow" target="_blank">Bircher, Inc.</a> machine Shop made the process much less painless. He wasn’t free, but his services were top quality and reasonably priced. He helped me understand his metal working capabilities and understand how to integrate that knowledge with my design needs. Visit his website and check out his unique naval armament!<br />
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A bike this nice shouldn’t be on the road without a nice paint job. Dan at Roberts Body Shop made this happen for me. The pictures in this post don’t do Redshift justice. Yellow is the theme color for my <a href="http://www.active.com/donate/2008Miles" rel="nofollow" target="_blank">2008 Miles of Hope</a> campaign (see there, I worked in a mention of my own fundraising). My Freedom Ryder came with a beautiful candy red finish. Dan was able to blend the red in the front into a beautiful yellow-metallic-pearlescent aft end. I’d love to give Dan’s business a plug but he’s retired now and he sold his body shop.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4OKbNfDN3MchvjUfIOK41Ya1FWK5SIu4Icf_4lWFc44KCTokET3LIjJ2Y1wgeSAJZ8_M19hkWtZ301_6POyHFDulDJJIAZBY9OjLXYO-7bVjnB7Fceq3Oz20KnT2rO5lZBeI_W1NoB4KT/s1600/DSC_0608.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="265" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4OKbNfDN3MchvjUfIOK41Ya1FWK5SIu4Icf_4lWFc44KCTokET3LIjJ2Y1wgeSAJZ8_M19hkWtZ301_6POyHFDulDJJIAZBY9OjLXYO-7bVjnB7Fceq3Oz20KnT2rO5lZBeI_W1NoB4KT/s1600/DSC_0608.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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Finally, I no longer had the billboard space of my bike basket on Hare to post my Hope For The Warriors decals, patches and memorabilia. Instead, I have had to streamline my “signage.” I have to thank Ralph at <a href="http://ralphssignshop.com/" rel="nofollow" target="_blank">Ralph’s Sign Shop</a> for making the decals for my new ride!<br />
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<i style="color: #3d85c6; font-size: x-large;">Conclusion</i><br />
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I hope the insight I’ve provided here helps readers appreciate the value of the products that it takes to get quads on the road. I regret that we live in a world where large companies that can afford to offer products for quad economically choose not to because it’s not profitable or glamorous. I also hope there is some value and insight conveyed by my work and that it may help others offer better products for quads. The combination of the Bike-On Brake, the FRH-1 handbike, and the QuadGrips is a game changer for quads. <br />
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If you’re a handbiker and have an appreciation for this project, leave a comment below. Hopefully you and I will meet in person sometime. Hopefully it will be on the road.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnmm91_AKBlgHPwkDRhzDLdAA2YlKKZd8eIadwkfF8vNu4pipM9bauIXZ8vCGNxtoIloGOSR73J4A6T7RL4lnyPDuxZ8Jxjjek44M7aRKskTghxlI-U4ViDIPgyLN616Xi_4FowCKdABdJ/s1600/DSC_0231.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="265" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnmm91_AKBlgHPwkDRhzDLdAA2YlKKZd8eIadwkfF8vNu4pipM9bauIXZ8vCGNxtoIloGOSR73J4A6T7RL4lnyPDuxZ8Jxjjek44M7aRKskTghxlI-U4ViDIPgyLN616Xi_4FowCKdABdJ/s1600/DSC_0231.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small; text-align: -webkit-auto;"><i>Fort Macon State Park, Atlantic Beach, NC</i></span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuevC8feScxp5WgGWx8e-muAB0QONQ3XMRpabehlpD7L0U1-o4U3XEoSGDmyDBL0KCDJmit39Lq_s1JnO8OJrAU4TREg8V7wa3PKFjhj6bwkvsku4MhN88oATKDBzEfdXLD4n6LFo77dBC/s1600/DSC_1432.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="265" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuevC8feScxp5WgGWx8e-muAB0QONQ3XMRpabehlpD7L0U1-o4U3XEoSGDmyDBL0KCDJmit39Lq_s1JnO8OJrAU4TREg8V7wa3PKFjhj6bwkvsku4MhN88oATKDBzEfdXLD4n6LFo77dBC/s1600/DSC_1432.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-size: small; text-align: -webkit-auto;">Riverwalk Trail</span><span style="font-size: small; text-align: -webkit-auto;">, Columbus, GA</span></i></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOQRil3gI2HNXtUYwxxL8TCkZZWixpGHi26pqahGiXHuCu01wBZ7eQAZd53nXCzHXb94rCTtE2A_WwvDg7VCP0rGGRUa7mIwJCq7vHJA5jQod39ElTgpNxP_vwUuEtzrLZxyTSLVnnPwbs/s1600/DSC_0399.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="265" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOQRil3gI2HNXtUYwxxL8TCkZZWixpGHi26pqahGiXHuCu01wBZ7eQAZd53nXCzHXb94rCTtE2A_WwvDg7VCP0rGGRUa7mIwJCq7vHJA5jQod39ElTgpNxP_vwUuEtzrLZxyTSLVnnPwbs/s1600/DSC_0399.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small; text-align: -webkit-auto;"><i>Virginia Creeper Trail, Abingdon, VA</i></span></td></tr>
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-LetsRoll!LetsRollhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02704108831138764554noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1195166657047014867.post-71574984864933542662013-01-25T09:48:00.000-08:002013-01-25T19:08:26.611-08:00A Beacon of Hope<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #3d85c6;">Morehead City Marlins Honor Sally at their annual Hope Week ceremony</span></i></span><br />
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<a href="https://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/0Y2gHacXTEj60wLA_64K0kY_fhSifAQ6H3xshKBIf7I?feat=embedwebsite" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img height="319" src="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/-l_OZRqIRhTs/UBSCA4MaubI/AAAAAAAAEF4/8sCqole_5Zo/s800/DSC_0373.JPG" width="265" /></a>
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A mother, wife, friend, volunteer, teacher, leader, and
more. Sally Kelly, Beaufort, is a
true “Beacon of <i>Hope</i><span style="font-style: normal;">” to all who
surround her. Her hard work helped
her to raise two successful and moral sons while still volunteering within her
community. Her greatest work now
benefits our military communities—specifically the wounded, their families, and
families of the fallen. Sally has
given </span><i>hope</i><span style="font-style: normal;"> and helps to thousands
and inspires others to join in her own personal mission of </span><i>hope</i><span style="font-style: normal;">.</span></div>
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As a single mom, Sally often worked two or more jobs while
raising her sons to become responsible, hardworking leaders. Early in her career, she ventured out
of the traditional women’s fields to build an income that would enable her to
put her boys through college. She
built a successful career as a mechanic and then later a Quality Assurance
Specialist for the Department of Navy (DoN). As a woman breaking into a
male-dominated field, she became an example of strength, excellence, and <i>hope</i><span style="font-style: normal;"> to other women in the community. Early in her career, she was recognized
as the Fleet Readiness Center-East’s </span><i>Woman of the Year</i><span style="font-style: normal;">. When
she retired, she was still one of a just a handful of women within the DoN who
inspected crucial jet engine components, including critical components used in
the elite Presidential Helicopter Program. </span></div>
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Although Sally understood the importance of her role as
breadwinner in her family, her work also focused on her sons’ activities,
ambitions, and dreams. The
consummate Booster Club member, her example inspired her sons to their own
levels of success. Rick DySard
(WCHS ‘86), rose to football team Captain and later established himself as a
successful personnel placement specialist. Tim DySard (WCHS ’87) established his prowess on the
baseball field in high school and later as the owner of a successful software
development corporation. Endowed
with more than a little of his mother’s drive, Tim led his Raleigh tennis team
to state-level championships in 2009 and 2011.</div>
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Sally’s dedication to her country has inspired many with her
own spark of <i>hope</i><span style="font-style: normal;">. The daughter of a WWII-Bronze
Star-decorated soldier, she understands the contributions and sacrifices of the
military and their families. Her
own dedication to the military did not end upon retirement after 36 years of
civilian service within the DoN.
Since 2007, she has volunteered countless hours with Hope For the
Warriors®, a national nonprofit organization that assists combat wounded
service members and their families.
She has been recognized as one of the organization’s top volunteers.</span></div>
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<a href="https://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/_-g6_Xq-HREetn3HRDjlh0Y_fhSifAQ6H3xshKBIf7I?feat=embedwebsite" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img height="400" src="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-pJ91bbox1xY/UBSB4IOQkBI/AAAAAAAAEFw/HeOz8z-EFTs/s400/DSC_0371.JPG" width="362" /></a>
Sally and her husband Paul have raised more than $48,000 in
donations in their fundraising campaign they call “2008 Miles of <i>Hope</i><span style="font-style: normal;">.” The
funds raised provide a full spectrum of rehabilitative and morale programs for
our Nation’s wounded heroes and their families. </span></div>
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Sally has also been recognized by the organization for her
leadership within her women’s group, Beta Sigma Phi International. Within her chapter, she has been the
kindling spark beneath the group’s service project, “Carolinas’ Torch of <i>Hope</i><span style="font-style: normal;">,” which has so far brought in over $25,000 in
donations from chapters around the world to Hope For The Warriors®. </span></div>
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Sometimes Sally is a Beacon of <i>Hope</i><span style="font-style: normal;">, by simply supporting others. As a spectator, she cheers from the
sidelines, providing the </span><i>hope</i><span style="font-style: normal;"> and
encouragement that people need. She
is often at </span><i>Hope</i><span style="font-style: normal;"> For The
Warriors® events and races, cheering on the runners and volunteering to make
the event a success. She has been
there for her own husband through 53 marathons and half marathons as he
participates using a crank-wheelchair.</span></div>
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In 2011, she was not content to be on the sidelines. Sally
decided to “go the extra mile” for our Nation’s wounded by running the Marine
Corps Marathon with Team Hope For The Warriors®. At an age when most women are curtailing their physical
activities, Sally finished a HIGHLY respectable 30<sup>th</sup> in her age
bracket in the largest amateur marathon in the world.</div>
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<a href="http://hopeforthewarriors.blogspot.com/2011/12/year-in-pictures-smile-at-mile-262.html" rel="nofollow" target="_blank">Hope For The Warriors</a></div>
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Sally is truly a Beacon of <i>Hope </i><span style="font-style: normal;">within our community. Her infectious enthusiasm brings light to the lives of
everyone she meets. Her tireless
dedication to her community, her family, and above all, to our Nation’s wound
heroes are an inspiration and example to us all.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
LetsRollhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02704108831138764554noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1195166657047014867.post-68603599599159078102012-02-14T19:04:00.000-08:002012-02-14T19:04:42.171-08:00Looking Back; Looking Forward<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><b><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #3d85c6;">What a year!</span></i></b></span><br />
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2011 was quite a year! It was a year of many firsts. And if you have followed this blog it was a year of many lasts. But 2012 should be the biggest year yet for this old country boy.<br />
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In 2011, I started off the year with my first experience with the Disney marathon where I finished last among the handcyclists like I always do. Then at Myrtle Beach, I beat David Swaim for the first time! Well, I beat him to the starting line. I didn’t know such a thing was possible. At every race I go to, there is David, no matter how early I arrive. I accuse him of spending the night at the starting line. The truth is he takes his game so seriously, the professional that he is, that he always gets to the start early enough to make sure that when the gun is fired, there is no one between him and the finish line.<br />
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In March, I beat David again! This time it was at the Cherry Point Half Marathon. For the first time in the twelve-year history of the event, they included a wheelchair division! I had helped the race management come up with a new course that was wheeler friendly. David, who was once a Cherry Point Marine, joined us for the inaugural event. Unfortunately the road marshal who led the lead wheelers missed a turn on the course and led David and another wheeler on a ‘short’ half marathon. While he could have done the course twice and still beat me, it was the first time I had ‘officially’ beaten him, even though I was last in the wheelchair division. He enjoyed it as much as I did.<br />
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In the fall, at the Army Ten-Miler, I experienced another disappointing first. This time it was my first DNF. The entire year was problematic for me from an equipment perspective. At about mile eight, as I started up the 14th Street Bridge, I broke the fork on my XLT. This was actually the third time the XLT fork had broken on me. Twice, new forks from Top End had broken. This time, my first fork, which had been re-welded broke. Thanks to a local custom motorcycle shop, I got the fork beefed up substantially and back on the road for my big races in the fall.<br />
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At the NC Seafood Festival Twin Bridges 8K, JK and myself made up their first wheelchair division. The race officials were a bit apprehensive about wheelchairs on the high rise bridges of Morehead City. We demonstrated it could be done safely and everybody had a lot of fun in the process.<br />
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At the <a href="http://www.marinemarathon.com/" target="_blank">Marine Corps Marathon</a>, again, my equipment plagued me and for the first time, I found myself behind the sag bus. When I finished the hills at mile eight, I got a little too over-eager to catch up and crashed into a curb at 23 miles per hour, another first (and hopefully last), and DNF’ed in my second major fall race.<br />
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Fortunately at the <a href="http://www.nycmarathon.com/" target="_blank">NYC Marathon</a>, there were no more firsts. I did, however, PR at that race, ending that nasty string of DNFs. I was able to get a new wheel built to replace the one I destroyed at the MCM with the help of some super guys at <a href="http://ifixbyx.com/" target="_blank">iFixByx</a><wwwifiixbyx.com>, Mark Purdy and David Sommerville. They were even able to make me a belt out of my curb-bitten tire. <br />
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At NY, however, I got to meet Sister Mary Gladys. You may remember that in 2010, I exuberantly proclaimed my legacy of last-place crank-chair division finishes had ended when I beat this 70-something (she corrected me on her age) nun from Connecticut. Well, I looked up our finishes. It seems that in the NYC marathon, men and women crankers are scored in separate divisions. So it seems my last-place legacy continues unbroken.<br />
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I finished 2011 with my best race last. Two years prior, I met YK at the <a href="http://www.obxmarathon.org/" target="_blank">OBX Half</a>. She was studying my crank-chair after the race. She shared as how her husband was a tetraplegic also and owned a different type of handbike. Her husband, JK, and I corresponded over the years and I encouraged him to enter the OBX Half. Last year, he confirmed he was registered and I promised to cross the finish line beside him.<br />
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JK has an old Shadow Mach III, which was really very poorly accommodating to his abilities. Even up to the day of the race, he was still apprehensive of his ability to get over the bridge. Frankly I was too. I knew he could push on the spokes if he had to. He might come away with some scratches and it would be slow, but he could eventually make it.<br />
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Even our bicycle guides were discretely asking me how he was going to make it up the bridge. I told them it wouldn't be pretty but I had seen his determination by mile eight and knew he was going to grind it out. He had a little entourage of runners (really walkers) by the time he got to the top of the bridge. We informally renamed the bridge in his honor. My day was complete when I caught a little glimpse of a smile on his face when we reached the top. He will never forget his achievement. It was a milk run to the finish line and my teammate and I went ahead to work up the spectators to give him a warm reception. He and I crossed the finish line together in my slowest half marathon ever but my biggest win. That smile on his face, however, was better than any trophy I own.<br />
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Finally, 2011 ended with another first and last. On December 31, I retired from the Department of the Navy after 32 years of service as a civilian engineer at <a href="http://navair.navy.mil/" target="_blank">NAVAIR</a>. Sadly, two days later, my colleague, my partner, and coworker, and my friend, <a href="http://www.cnic.navy.mil/Patuxent/NewsAndCurrentInfo/NewsArticles/CNICP_A282513" target="_blank">Pat Hovatter</a> died after a tragic after a sudden and brief illness. My happiness at the fulfillment of my career was sadly dampened by the loss of my friend.<br />
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2012 will prove to be another year of firsts for me. One of Pat’s last requests was that donations be made to help wounded warriors. I pledged to Pat’s wife and family that in 2012, all my races would be dedicated to Pat’s memory. And as with all my races, every penny donated from my supporters goes to <a href="http://hopeforthewarriors.org/" target="_blank">Hope For The Warriors</a> for their various rehabilitative, morale-building, and direct needs programs to ensure, <i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #3d85c6;">"no sacrifice forgotten nor need unmet."</span></i> The organization has grown into a highly acclaimed national organization serving our wounded and their families and families of the fallen from all of the services.<br />
</wwwifiixbyx.com><br />
<wwwifiixbyx.com><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #3d85c6;">Looking forward</span></i></span><br />
My first race will be the <a href="http://www.mbmarathon.com/" target="_blank">Myrtle Beach Marathon</a> this coming weekend. It will be my busiest race schedule ever. Please look over the “Upcoming Events” sidebar for a list of my attempts for this year, all dedicated to Pat’s memory. Several marathons will be firsts for me, including the <a href="http://gettysburgnorthsouthmarathon.com/" target="_blank">Gettysburg North-South Marathon</a>, the <a href="http://www.soldiermarathon.com/" target="_blank">Soldier Marathon</a>, and the <a href="http://www.pensacolamarathon.com/" target="_blank">Pensacola Marathon</a>. My most ambitious undertaking in my life will occur on March 10 when I attempt the <a href="http://www.graveyard100.com/" target="_blank">Graveyard 100</a>, a 100-mile ultra marathon on the North Carolina outer Banks. Then I hope to end the year by completing <b><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #3d85c6;">Four Marathons in Fifteen Days</span></i></b>, the <a href="http://www.marinemarathon.com/" target="_blank">Marine Corps Marathon</a>, the <a href="http://www.nycmarathon.com/" target="_blank">New York City Marathon</a>, the Soldier Marathon, and the Pensacola Marathon. I am hoping that Pat’s sons can join me in the Soldier Marathon. All in all, in 2012 I hope to complete 14 marathons and half marathons and one ultra.<br />
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Did I mention that I was a tetraplegic? Why on earth would I invest such a chunk of my life into such an endeavor? I won’t go into the heroics of our wounded warriors but this is my way of stating my gratitude for their sacrifice and for that of their families.<br />
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Please support me with your donation to <a href="http://hopeforthewarriors.org/" target="_blank">Hope for The Warriors.</a> The world in which we live and the freedoms we enjoy would be vastly different without the dedication and sacrifice of our nation’s service men and women. We owe them so much. Freedom is not free. <br />
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Please help with a donation to my fundraising campaign. All the money we raise goes to <a href="http://hopeforthewarriors.org/" target="_blank">Hope For The Warriors.</a> Learn about the great things they do.<br />
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Please make a secure online donation at my donation page: <a href="http://www.active.com/donate/2008miles" target="_blank">2008 Miles of Hope</a> donations page. <br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #0000ee;"><u><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: black;"></span></u></span></wwwifiixbyx.com><br />
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</div></span></u></span>LetsRollhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02704108831138764554noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1195166657047014867.post-14633812599252065542011-10-01T21:07:00.000-07:002011-10-01T21:07:13.468-07:00Bridges burned, doors busted down!<i style="color: #3d85c6;"><span style="font-size: large;">10.30.2011 NCSF Twin Bridges 8K</span></i><br />
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<i style="color: #f1c232;"><span style="font-size: small;">Changing attitudes and training the spirit</span></i> <br />
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After 25 years, the NC Seafood Festival Twin Bridges Road 8K accepted the first wheelchair participants. Two crank-wheelchair participants crossed the two Atlantic Intracoastal Waterway Bridges to the cheers of support of hundreds of fellow runners. Their participation dispelled years of unfounded reservations that wheelchairs and runners could not cross the high rise bridges safely together and opened another door for athletes with disabilities.<br />
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My teammate finished second in her age bracket.<br />
I finished, well, er, uh, second in mine (last place as usual).<br />
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After the race my teammate (my loving wife) and I extended our running in training for the Marine Corps Marathon as part of Team Hope For The Warriors.<br />
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Teammate's training goal: 18 miles. <br />
Warmup-1mi<br />
8K race-5 mi<br />
Training-17.7 mi<br />
Total distance for the day: 23.7 miles! Holy Cow!<br />
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My training goal: 40 miles. <br />
Warmup-1mi<br />
8K race-5 mi<br />
Training-41.5 mi<br />
Total distance for the day: 47.5 miles<br />
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<i style="color: #3d85c6;"><span style="font-size: large;">It's not the miles but what the miles do. </span></i><br />
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JK, the other participant in the 8K, completed his first crossing of a high-rise bridge. He's got the itch now to complete a marathon. During my training ride I met up with my dear friend, One-Leg Dan. He was on the road cranking in one of the first Force-R crank chairs ever built. Five years ago, few in the county had heard of a crank wheelchair. Today there were three (at least) on the road training and competing. <br />
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The idea that a life with a disability is a life filled with despair is another 'burning bridge.' <br />
Life with a disability is a life filled with Hope.<br />
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Our fundraising campaign, 2008 Miles of Hope has raised over $37,000 to date to benefit Hope For The Warriors and their programs to provide relief for combat-wounded service members, their families, and families of the fallen.<br />
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Please join us in our cause. Make a donation at <i><span style="color: #3d85c6;">http://www.active.com/donate/2008Miles.</span></i><br />
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Lets Roll!LetsRollhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02704108831138764554noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1195166657047014867.post-86916798676939604722011-06-14T18:25:00.000-07:002011-06-26T05:37:00.124-07:00Coping with the heat<i style="color: #3d85c6;"><b><span style="font-size: large;">Summer 2011</span></b></i> has been blistering. Even before summer got here. <br />
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For folks with certain disabilities or using certain medicines, the heat is a bear! Training in the heat is a bear, too. For example, high SCIs, such as myself, don’t sweat. Working out in the sun and in the heat is double jeopardy. I’ve observed other quads' techniques for coping with the heat and I’ve come up with a few of my own. Most of them involve water. Here are my helpful hints for quads training in the heat. Some may may be used by able-bodied athletes, too.<br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><i style="color: #3d85c6;"><b>1) Training</b></i></span> is the worst activity. You’re generally out there on the road for long periods with no support. My friend GM once suggested that I do my most intensive workouts in cooler (and colder) weather and just try to moderate and maintain during the hot months. I have started working out in the early AM, about 0540, before going to work and making no attempt to work out in the evening. I have actually extended my daily target workout to 10 miles. I remember doing this last year (with 10K target workouts) and was pleasantly surprised to find that it worked. As soon as cooler weather came in the fall, my energy level picked up immediately as did my endurance and my distances. <br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b style="color: #3d85c6;"><i>2) Get wet.</i></b></span> In races when I am going all-out, I overheat even on cooler days. I ask the water stop volunteers to pour a cup of water on top of my helmet or throw a cup of water into my face (just make sure you're at the <i>water</i> table, not the energy drink table). Even if the heat doesn’t cause me to overheat, it still robs me of my energy and makes me lethargic. Many bike races that have a quad division will provide sag riders who will administer cooling water to quads. I almost always go through sprinkler stations in races and I look for lawn sprinklers that overspray the street when I workout. The Beaufort Road Race in July is the hottest race I do. I tell the Boy Scouts on one particular corner to let me have it with the water hose when I come by. My teammate said the kids’ enthusiasm was a little overzealous when other runners came through behind me and unexpectedly got the same treatment. <br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><i style="color: #3d85c6;"><b>3) Seek shade.</b></i></span><br />
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The biggest advantage of working out early in the day is that you avoid the sun more so than avoiding the temperature. By about 10 AM, most of the shade is gone. I have even gotten up at 0330 to put in a long workout in the dark. Morning works better than the evening because the bugs aren’t as bad. Even in the early AM, I can still overheat. One recent morning, even though the air temperature was 77 when I started my workout, by 0715 when I finished, I measured my body temperature at 103 degrees!<br />
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<i style="color: #3d85c6;"><b><span style="font-size: large;">4) Chill out. </span></b></i>I like to eat an icy-pop right after a hot workout to recover more quickly. A rag soaked with cold water and Sea Breeze feels good too. The alcohol in the Sea Breeze also aids in cooling. I have eaten those frozen icy drinks at Dairy Queen that normally give you brain-freeze…without getting the brain-freeze. <br />
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<i style="color: #3d85c6;"><b><span style="font-size: large;">5) Take water.</span> </b></i><br />
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I take a thermos tank that I have modified with two tubes that go to the bottom of the tank. I had to modify the tank to make it airtight too. The tubes go to my helmet. One goes to my mouth. The other goes to the top of my head. I can suck on the mouthpiece a get a cool drink. I can blow into the tube and force cold water up to the top of my head. I also suck up a mouthful of water and squirt it out my lips onto my legs and shoulders. And yes, I'm the geekiest guy on the course...<br />
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<i style="color: #3d85c6;"><b><span style="font-size: large;">6) Take ice.</span></b></i><br />
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I also have some fabric tubes made of nylon fabric that I have my teammate fill with ice. We tie them around my neck and they keep me cool for about an hour. As the ice melts, it wets me thoroughly, prolonging the cooling.<br />
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<b style="color: #3d85c6;"><i><span style="font-size: large;">7) Take cover.</span></i></b> Your head is the most sensitive part of your body to the sun's heat. Wear a runner's cap made of breathable polyester fabric. Preferably white. Likewise for your clothes. The coolest shirts I've found are lightweight polyester made of an open-knit fabric. Wal-Mart Sells them for 8 bucks. Brooks Running sells them for $40. When you run through a water station in a race, drink the energy drink (for hydration, fuel, and electrolytes) and pour the cup of water inside your cap.<br />
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<i style="color: #3d85c6;"><b><span style="font-size: large;">8) Work out with a partner. </span></b></i> You may not think clearly when you overheat. Let your partner know that. <br />
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Don’t forget to visit our <a href="http://www.active.com/donate/2008Miles">donation site</a> and support <a href="http://www.hopeforthewarriors.org./">Hope For The Warriors</a>. Make a donation and support this great cause! <br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxchYnsS3emDaPkZSpW-xRnTtFT8CrkeEHXrKUdIZF2pacCEkHRx4n-RSkJo3Aeot28Zu5QxFcaFBYFIUs8DK8dgk8jFQfr7aN2ycir00hUQKN5rRU_BNz8TMuF-8LW3hkMEGE9XCu7zfj/s1600/DSC_5704.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="132" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxchYnsS3emDaPkZSpW-xRnTtFT8CrkeEHXrKUdIZF2pacCEkHRx4n-RSkJo3Aeot28Zu5QxFcaFBYFIUs8DK8dgk8jFQfr7aN2ycir00hUQKN5rRU_BNz8TMuF-8LW3hkMEGE9XCu7zfj/s200/DSC_5704.jpg" width="200" /></a></div>LetsRollhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02704108831138764554noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1195166657047014867.post-47666588061190391492011-02-14T18:07:00.000-08:002011-02-14T18:07:50.040-08:00Beyond Hope<div style="color: #3d85c6;"><i><span style="font-size: large;">An incredible challenge</span></i></div><br />
To readers of this blog, you know that my niece T- is one of the greatest inspirations in my life. Tonight, she stands on the brink of one of the greatest physical and mental challenges in her life. To her, this post is dedicated. <br />
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To others that face challenges in their lives, find the motivation and inspiration in these words that I hope she will find; the motivation in over 9,700 miles that I have logged in training, races, and fundraising events since that day she ran the Marine Corps Marathon in 2006 for the first time; the day when I said, "I think I can do that."<br />
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T-,<br />
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I want to say some things that may not come across with the same positive encouragement that you have known from me in the past. But do know that they come from my heart with all the love and respect that I can convey.<br />
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First of all there is the issue of success. I know in your mind there is self doubt and worry that you may not achieve success. I could say that there is no need to worry about passing or failing; that you are a success in the eyes of all that love you. I could say that you have already achieved success. Both are true. But saying either would be giving you the comfort in defeat that you do not wish to enjoy.<br />
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I will say this instead. You are only now beginning to understand the enormity of your challenge. It is only now that you are beginning to glimpse how is high the climb, how far is the distance, and how preciously short is the time before you. <br />
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And finally there is the issue of hope. We who love you can offer encouragement, advice, and prayers. And we can hope. And you can hope. But hope is not a strategy for success. It is a reason to move forward against all odds; it is the reason to persevere. But it in itself, is not a strategy. <br />
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This is the time where you must recognize the goal is not in what you can see, it is not even in what you know; the goal lies far beyond that which you can comprehend.<br />
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The distance is not what you can measure, it is beyond where you have been. And the time you have is not what you remember, it is the flash between what lies ahead and what has been.<br />
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Hope is not enough for what you must do. You must do more than you can even know. You must push yourself farther than any goal you have now or have ever set in the past. You must push yourself faster than you can go. And you must think smarter than you have ever thought before.<br />
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Because winning is not <i>just</i> about crossing the finish line. It is about using every faculty you possess. It is not about using <i>your best</i> to the best of your ability. It is about using everything you have to outrun, to out-distance, and to out-think those that hope to lure you into believing that what you have done in the past is good enough.<br />
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Let <i>them</i> rely on hope. You must push yourself <i>beyond</i> hope. <i>Beyond</i> what you have known. <i>Beyond</i> what you believe is possible. And <i>beyond</i> what you call success. You must push yourself <i>beyond what you can dream. </i><br />
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Only then will you know a success that no one can impart to you. The success no one can take from you. <i>The success you earn!</i><br />
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And only then will you know what few others know--what lies beyond hope.<br />
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With all my love and my deepest respect,<br />
Your Crazy Uncle,<br />
-LetsRoll!<br />
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Success is not measured by the challenges you are dealt, but by the challenges you set before yourself.LetsRollhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02704108831138764554noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1195166657047014867.post-21358546269663817372011-01-24T19:20:00.000-08:002011-01-24T19:36:31.150-08:00Fall races and 2010 recap<div style="color: #3d85c6;"><br />
<i><span style="font-size: large;">ALMOST the year of “almosts”</span></i></div><br />
<i style="color: #b45f06;"><b>Chasing the elusive sub-4:00 marathon</b></i><br />
This year it seems like I ‘almost’ did every thing I wanted in regard to my 2008 Miles of Hope goals. It seemed like my races were turning into a lackluster legacy of “almost” meeting my goals. The big ‘almost’ was my elusive goal of beating the 4-hour mark for a marathon. Two other times, I ‘almost’ made it to the starting line. And I can’t count the times when I almost PR’ed in a race. The only positive thing that I can say I did was getting together a group of running friends at work to train for the Marine Corps Marathon.<br />
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Now, I’m not fast. In fact, my legacy of finishing in last place amongst the handcyclists was unbroken. Not so intolerable if you’re the only participant, but I wanted to do better. <br />
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I don’t mean to sensationalize my accomplishments. My very first marathon was less than 4 hours. I wanted so dearly to do that again. In March, at the Shamrock, I missed my goal by less than a minute. It seemed like for the rest of the year, or at least my training season, I was getting slower. I felt like something was going wrong. As it turned out, it was. Read on for a recap of my fall races, as Paul Harvey said, “for the rest of the story.” It would take a trip to New York City to turn my luck.<br />
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<i><span style="color: #3d85c6; font-size: large;">The Marine Corps Half Marathon 9.25.2010</span></i><br />
Most people think of the of the Marine Corps Historic Half, in Fredericksburg, VA, when they hear of this race. In fact, Mike Marion, the MCCS race director at Camp Lejeune, has been putting on this race at Camp Lejeune, NC, as part of his <a href="http://www.mccslejeune.com/grandprix/index.html" target="_blank">Grand Prix Series</a> for as long as I remember.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_o04yXF_g1C0/TSUzzjGkVeI/AAAAAAAADME/Vh3RYYlDX9A/s1600/DSC_7113.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="212" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_o04yXF_g1C0/TSUzzjGkVeI/AAAAAAAADME/Vh3RYYlDX9A/s320/DSC_7113.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>My theory: You tend to run faster when chased by Marines...</i></td></tr>
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It is my favorite half. It winds around through some of the most scenic parts of the base, particularly through the tall Carolina pine forests and the views along the New River.<br />
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I was able to race with 4 other handcyclists at the MC Half. David Swain, One-Leg Dan, and BN were there. I had raced with all three in the past. I had been in communication with RA, a wounded warrior stationed at Lejeune. He had been training on his new handbike but had never raced. I think I got him pumped up and excited. He was ready to roll. A combat reporter on the base did a very nice article on us. <a href="http://www.marines.mil/unit/mcblejeune/Pages/100925-M-BASE-2360J-HANDCYCLING.aspx" target="_new">Handcyclists make a difference</a><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_o04yXF_g1C0/TSUzvGTYGQI/AAAAAAAADL8/EelenjEjiBw/s1600/DSC_7132.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="212" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_o04yXF_g1C0/TSUzvGTYGQI/AAAAAAAADL8/EelenjEjiBw/s320/DSC_7132.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
My time was great, but not a PR. For a half. While I could sense some improvement since the summer, it was still just ‘almost’ what I had I hoped for. Read my full report in a previous blog. <a href="http://2008milesofhope.blogspot.com/2010/11/my-year-of-almosts-another-2008-miles.html" target="_new">Another 2008 miles</a><br />
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<i><span style="color: #3d85c6; font-size: large;">Distance workout 10.2.2010</span></i><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_o04yXF_g1C0/TSUzxe3RVzI/AAAAAAAADMA/OewZaO_rmqk/s1600/DSC_7133.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_o04yXF_g1C0/TSUzxe3RVzI/AAAAAAAADMA/OewZaO_rmqk/s320/DSC_7133.JPG" width="212" /></a></div>This time my teammate ran a race on her own. She was running the Twin Bridges 8K. I was still trying to get in some distance workouts prior to the MCM. I got started on my workout and she drove on to the finish of her race where participants were bussed to the start. Since all the participants were driving past my workout route, a number of friends in the area passed and honked or waved as I started out on my workout as they were heading to the race. MC was running in the race also. My teammate joined up with her and ran much of the race. MC was training for the MCM also. She planned to finish her race and then extend on down toward Indian Beach make her distance workout.<br />
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My plan was to ride to Fort Macon then toward Indian Beach. That day, because of the race preparing to start, the Atlantic Beach Bridge had a lane coned off for runners. Since the race hadn’t started I had a whole lane to myself. Yee-ha! I was blasting down the Atlantic Beach causeway as fast as I could crank, having a very large time, when I noticed the cones on my left had a rope attached to them.<br />
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All the sudden, I looked up and there was a rope crossing my lane straight in front of me. I was in the finish chute set up for the race and was about to be clotheslined! Several friends that were standing around the race finish area waved and yelled to greet me. I didn’t mean to be rude, but all I could say was something like, “YIKES,” as I ducked to avoid the rope.<br />
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After riding to Fort Macon, and starting back west at Atlantic Beach, I thought I saw MC in the distance. I started cranking a little faster caught up with her. We ran together for a ways while my teammate caught up with her bicycle after her race. By the time she did, I was starting to bonk badly. I had gone longer than I planned without refueling before she caught up with me. In my haste to get started so my teammate could be on time for her race, I forgot to bring anything to eat. She brought some food with her that got me going, but I just gutted it for a while before I had to stop and rest. At Salter Path there is a parking lot for a public beach access. I parked under a shade tree and my teammate rode across the street to a seafood restaurant and brought back a couple of take out containers of clam chowder and some hushpuppies. Now that was a treat! And it got me going. The ride home was against a stiff headwind and just plain tough. I knew I had to pay more attention to refueling. But something else was wrong. More than just the headwind was bogging me down. I was worried about the MCM now.<br />
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One evening the following week I was working out on a steep hill at Atlantic Beach. All the sudden my handbike was impossible to crank. I could barely make it up the hill. My teammate was out for her run. I quit early about the time she returned. Totally exhausted, I was wondering, “What’s wrong with me? This hill never kicked my butt before. And Saturday, I had been struggling to keep up with MC.”<br />
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When I got off the bike, I noticed it didn’t roll downhill like it usually did. I didn’t remember setting the parking brake. We spun the wheel, or tried to. It was nearly stuck in place! The coaster brake was jammed. The next day I took it to my bike shop guy. This was Thursday. I was registered for the Neuse River Bridge Run half marathon on Saturday. So was my teammate and many of my MCM teammates at work. My worry factor was climbing.<br />
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<i style="color: #3d85c6;"><span style="font-size: large;">Neuse River Bridge Run 10.16.2010</span></i> <br />
My bike shop guy, and there is none better, was swamped with new inventory just delivered for Christmas and every one needing assembly. Added to that it was the peak of the fall riding season and everyone had gotten their clunkers out of the garage and found they needed repair. He promised me he would do the best he could.<br />
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Friday, we went to the packet pick-up and I asked the event coordinator about switching races. I explained about my uncertainty of my handbike’s availability. I was considering pushrimming my day chair or maybe even using Tortoise for the 10K. Meanwhile my cell phone was ringing. I was oblivious in the din of the registration crowd. My bikeshop guy had good news for me.<br />
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When we left for home, my phone beeped with a new message reminder. I called the bike shop guy and found out he had Hare ready for me. He said it wasn’t repaired but he had it rolling freely. He couldn’t get a part in time to replace the defective brake drum. Nonetheless, if I was going to be on the road Saturday, I was happy.<br />
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Saturday’s race was awful. I wasn’t concerned about my time. It was just hard. It started out OK, but about 4 miles into the run, the brake started dragging again. This persisted about 4 miles then it released and I was OK. Then the brake was off and on for the rest of the race. It took me over two and a half hours to finish.<br />
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Again, I wasn’t worried about my time. I had fallen back at the start to try to guide for Matt Bradford across the bridges. That’s a story of its own. <a href="http://2008milesofhope.blogspot.com/2010/11/my-year-of-almosts-another-2008-miles.html" target="_new">Another 2008 miles</a> The brake drag problem was now high on my worry list for the MCM. <br />
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Several wounded warriors from Camp Lejeune were there on handbikes. Some I knew from other races. As it turned out, with some of my coworkers, MC, and some of the WWs, we had a small contingent of the2010 MCM Team Hope For The Warriors. Pretty cool! <a href="http://www2.wnct.com/news/2010/oct/16/rolling-finish-wounded-warriors-ar-462243/" target="_new">Rolling to the Finish for Wounded Warriors</a><br />
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I did a training ride the following day and learned the brake would engage at the slightest provocation. I also learned a trick to disengage it when it did. My only problem was that sometimes I just couldn’t stop cranking to disengage the brake for various reasons. I started putting the puzzle together now. Two things had been plaguing me all summer. Lack of energy and lack of strength. I decided that the strength issue was really not lack of strength but too much resistance from the brake. The energy thing was probably lack of fuel.<br />
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<i style="color: #3d85c6;"><span style="font-size: large;">Back to back half centuries 10.23-24.2010</span></i><br />
I could not find the part needed to repair the brake. I was desperate with the MCM a week and a half away. I couldn’t even wait to order a new hub because I still needed training, I felt. I made the decision to cannibalize the hub from Tortoise and have the whole wheel rebuilt for Hare with the hub from Tortoise. I ordered a new 8 speed hub for Tortoise (which I like very much). The following weekend I set out for my longest training rides of the year. My plan was to keep fueled up with gus, energy drinks, and of course, Snickers.<br />
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On Saturday, I put in 50 miles, fueling about every hour. At one point, I was a little hot and my teammate met me with a cup of ice cream from the General Store. I think I could live with this fueling strategy. The new hub was great. With no brake dragging, I felt like I had lost my anchor. With the new fueling strategy, I felt like I had more energy the last 10 miles than I did the first 10! Sunday I did another long ride. This one was at Bogue Banks. It included the Atlantic Beach Bridge, AND a steep hill I use to gage my readiness for the MCM. Since the grade is the same as the unforgiving hill at the end of the MCM. I saved that climb for the end of the ride. When I did it without a hitch, and still had energy to spare, I KNEW I was ready for the MCM, the NYC Marathon and the OBX Half—my triple crown from last year, <a href="http://2008milesofhope.blogspot.com/2009_11_01_archive.html" target="_blank">Two and a half Marathons in 15 Days</a>.<br />
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As I finished my ride by crossing the AB Bridge I was ready. Two half centuries back-to- back and I still had plenty of energy. I was about two miles short that Sunday and running out of daylight but I didn’t need the two miles to prove anything further. The next weekend would be the MCM. I had been entertaining the idea of one more marathon this year. I signed up for the Space Coast Marathon in Cocoa, FL. I was hoping to finish the year with a relatively flat race and, you guessed it, beat that 4 hour mark.<br />
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<div style="color: #3d85c6;"><i><span style="font-size: large;">Maine Corps Marathon 10.31.2010</span></i></div>Since it was the MARINE Corps Marathon, I will summarize in one word. OOHRAH!<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_o04yXF_g1C0/TSUzSu2ve3I/AAAAAAAADLM/nY3aO-prRhk/s1600/DSC_7391.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="212" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_o04yXF_g1C0/TSUzSu2ve3I/AAAAAAAADLM/nY3aO-prRhk/s320/DSC_7391.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>If you’re not familiar with the term, run the race. I’ll skip the part about how the weather was perfect, the trees were beautiful, the spectators were awesome, and the runners were incredibly supportive.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>A PERFECT day!</i></td></tr>
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The weekend before the race, I’m feeling great. I did my two most strenuous workouts this training season. I know it was too close to race day but I had to prove it to myself. I had many setbacks this training season: bonking, weather, overheating, schedule problems, and finally, last minute equipment problems. Honestly I think my brake problems have plagued me off and on all summer; I just nailed it down recently. The previous Saturday I fueled regularly every hour and amazingly had as much strength at the end of both workouts as I did at the beginning of the first. Both were half centuries because I wanted to be out there cranking for a time period longer than I knew would be in either upcoming marathon. You end the Marine Corps up a 14% grade (you read that right). The previous Sunday I finished my workout with a climb up another 14% hill and then an 85 foot high bridge (a.k.a. an eastern NC hill).<br />
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Mentally and physically I was ready. This was going to be my third MCM and my 11th marathon. I wanted to do two short strength workouts to maintain my peak but it didn’t happen. I picked up some kind of respiratory bug that messed me up for a couple of days. Fortunately it wasn’t severe and a little Tylenol to keep fever down was all it took. The night before the race, I got a good dinner and a good night’s sleep.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_o04yXF_g1C0/TSUzpVgl18I/AAAAAAAADL0/72knrxuOidQ/s1600/DSC_7238.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="212" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_o04yXF_g1C0/TSUzpVgl18I/AAAAAAAADL0/72knrxuOidQ/s320/DSC_7238.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
We were up at 4 AM and though I had lost all advantage from my physical conditioning the weekend before I was psyched with the knowledge of a successful fueling strategy, knowledge the hills would at least not kick my six, and some significant mental positives. <br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_o04yXF_g1C0/TSUgaA4CZCI/AAAAAAAADIg/OU2eauVfBog/s1600/711816-6108-0022.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_o04yXF_g1C0/TSUgaA4CZCI/AAAAAAAADIg/OU2eauVfBog/s320/711816-6108-0022.jpg" width="211" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>MarathonFoto.com</i></td></tr>
</tbody></table>My 2008 Miles of Hope fundraising goal of $1000 for every mile in a marathon was not only met—it was smashed! We wrote a check for a personal donation of about $127 to bring it up to a nice round number: $30,000. I was pretty proud of that. Finally, we enjoyed some good relaxing camaraderie over dinner with our Hope For The Warriors teammates including several wounded warriors.<br />
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<div style="color: #b45f06;"><b><i><span style="font-size: small;">Hills</span></i></b></div>I had hoped to finish quicker this year but overall I was about the same as last year, about 6:18. The first two miles of MCM are up a significant hill then you lose all that elevation by mile four. Miles 6-8 are uphill again then you lose it all in about ½ mile, actually most of it in about 1/10 of a mile. We got a fifteen minute head start but with all the elevation in the first eight miles, I was trying to make up my time the rest of the race. The only other hills are the 14th St. Bridge (actually 3 bridges) and the last 2/10s up the hill with the14% grade.<br />
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By the time I was at the top of the mile 8 peak, 20,000 runners were in front of me including the “iPlodders.” I met my teammate at 4 spots on the course met T- at two places.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>MarathonFoto.com</i></td></tr>
</tbody></table>Though I maintained my energy level by frequent refueling, I couldn’t plow my way past the mp3 headsets. The other runners gave me great support and many guided for me during various stretches, including Carlos, who was an Achilles guide, guiding another handbiker. I rode with Carlos’ handbiker for a mile or so and Carlos ran with me separately for another mile or so. Many others guided for me spontaneously during other short stretches, but for much of the race, I was wasting my inertia by braking to avoid running into someone who couldn’t hear me yell. At least the brakes were working now, or should I say, not working when they weren’t supposed to.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_o04yXF_g1C0/TSUziq7zENI/AAAAAAAADLo/oMBlbr2v5ng/s1600/DSC_7316.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="197" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_o04yXF_g1C0/TSUziq7zENI/AAAAAAAADLo/oMBlbr2v5ng/s320/DSC_7316.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
T- joined me at the Pentagon and jogged the last couple of miles with me. The 14% hill took me about 15 ugly minutes to climb. T-, walked behind me to keep others from pushing. As I rocked the bike back and forth to inch my way up the steep slope, the crowd yelled, almost in tears. T- dialed up my 82-year-old mother on her cell phone to let her listen to the crowd.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_o04yXF_g1C0/TSUzd0KvyGI/AAAAAAAADLg/ov8woWQY2ro/s1600/DSC_7366.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="212" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_o04yXF_g1C0/TSUzd0KvyGI/AAAAAAAADLg/ov8woWQY2ro/s320/DSC_7366.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_o04yXF_g1C0/TSUf8g0hoUI/AAAAAAAADIY/Ib_N3MO5WoQ/s1600/711854-1019-0001.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_o04yXF_g1C0/TSUf8g0hoUI/AAAAAAAADIY/Ib_N3MO5WoQ/s320/711854-1019-0001.jpg" width="203" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>MarathonFoto.com</i></td></tr>
</tbody></table>The finish line announcer’s name is Ken Berger. He is called The Voice of the Marine Corps Marathon. His is the most beautiful sound you ever want to hear; “Welcome to the finish line!” He knows me through 3 previous Run For The Warriors and two previous MCMs, as well as my fundraising for Hope For The Warriors. Ken gave me a real VIP announcement at the finish and had the crowds yelling at the top of their lungs. Marine 2nd Lieutenants. all along the finish were yelling OOHRAH! <br />
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It was a great finish to a GREAT day.<br />
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At the finish area I met up with many of the folks I had trained with all summer. We ALL had a great time and a great race. I was already looking forward to my next MCM. But more importantly, I was thinking about NYC and how I would do.<br />
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<div style="color: #3d85c6;"><span style="font-size: large;"><i>Maryland and New Jersey 11.1-4.2010</i></span></div>Last year I remember feeling incredibly stressed after the MCM. We returned home on Monday. I went to work on Tuesday through Thursday. Then we drove to NY on Friday. In that whole time I managed one 2-mile workout.<br />
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This year we did some sightseeing in DC on Monday then drove to College Park, MD that evening.<br />
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On Tuesday we got on some great bike trails along the Anacostia River and put in about 17 miles. The one thing that College Park lacks is good restaurants. Applebee’s filled our hungry tummies, however.<br />
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Wednesday we drove to New Jersey to be close enough to NY to visit and do things in the City but far enough away to afford a room. We hurriedly unpacked and drove to Central Park for a workout. This year, like last, I would be supported throughout the race by guide runners provided by the New York Road Runners and the Achilles Track Club. Achilles is the organization that handles the planning, registration, logistics, and other coordination for the AWDs--athletes with disabilities from all over the world for the New York City Marathon.<br />
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<div style="color: #b45f06;"><i><b><span style="font-size: small;">My team</span></b></i></div>This year, I was assigned three highly capable guides. We had been emailing constantly for weeks. We were strategizing tactics for getting me through the crowds, the streets the hills, five bridges and five Burroughs that made up the NY City Marathon. G- was one of my guides last year. We had been corresponding throughout the year about getting last year’s team together again. In May she wrote with some bad news. Her participation was now in doubt. <br />
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In her training for this year’s NYC Marathon she entered the Brooklyn Half Marathon, with a goal of under 1 hour and 50 minutes. At mile 12.5 she was well on he way to a 1:47 finish when another runner in front of her unexpectedly stopped. <br />
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“I shifted to get out of the way, lost my footing on the boardwalk and had an extremely nasty spill, G- described. “ My chin took the brunt of it all. I stood up and blood was gushing out (its amazing how much your chin bleeds!) - a volunteer pulled me aside and asked if I was ok. I could hardly breathe and could not process what had happened and all these spectators were gawking at me...so I sat down on a bench facing the ocean to regroup. The volunteer got on his phone, ‘I've got a runner down 600 meters from the finish’ 600 meters?! I got up, told the volunteer that I was fine, that I could finish...He looked at me in shock ...then I was off, and as I was crossing the finish line, the spectators were cheering and then had a look of horror as I passed them! I finished in 1 hr and 52 min, a little before 9am. I was pretty bummed about (missing her goal).” <br />
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A veteran of 5 previous NYC Marathons and a NYC native, she as the backbone of last year’s team. Not having her on the team was going to be a big disappointment. As the summer progressed, I waited to hear if there was an improvement in her condition. <br />
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About September, I got word from G- that she was ready for a marathon! I contacted Achilles and they assigned me two additional guides, CD and PH. The wires were abuzz with our email traffic. CD was a pretty big guy who had played football at Notre Dome. He was also an IronMan and had completed NYC before. As he put it, “I can be as aggressive as u need getting people out of the way.”<br />
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As it turned out, PH had to drop out at the last minute with a foot injury. While the team had started to bond and PH’s loss was sad to us, CD suggested that his girlfriend, KVD, join us as a replacement. KVD had been training for the NYC anyway. This would be her 4th. She had also completed the Boston. Several months back, her interest in training for the marathon began to wane. She was losing interest in the long runs and was ready to defer. On CD’s suggestion, she applied to Achilles to run as a guide. She was accepted by Achilles to guide for another AWD. She asked if she could guide for me instead, Achilles approved it, and now we had our little team firmed up. <br />
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KVD brought her unique enthusiasm to the group. As she put it, “I am SO excited and FIRED UP to team up with you all to run those city streets on November 7. Everything happens for a reason, so let's get it done together! I'm ready to kindly, yet aggressively, remove all human bodies in your path…to assist you from Staten Island to the west side of CP…” I was starting to envision Moses parting the sea and in my mind, crowds were separating as my Achilles guides opened up a path in the sea of runners before me and my handbike.<br />
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<div style="color: #b45f06;"><span style="font-size: small;"><b><i>Wheels turn in the Big Apple</i></b></span></div>Wednesday prior to the race, after unpacking at the hotel in NJ, we started toward Central Park for our first meeting with my guides. We planned a little loop around the park. My teammate and I got there first and we planned to meet CD and KVD around 5 PM. G- was tied up at the office and planned to meet us a little later. Right off the bat we hit it off. After introductions and hugs we started out heading counter-clockwise around the park. I wanted CD and KVD to learn how much difference there was between my speed going uphill and coming downhill. G- already knew what to expect.<br />
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KVD described it like this, “It was there in Central Park that I realized that running this race would be most challenging, physically. We needed to clear out the runners in front of him so he can gain speed on the downhill and not run over any of the other participants. I was about to cross-train for 26.2 miles come Sunday. Oh my gosh! My LEAST favorite form of running (until Marathon Sunday, that is)…I watched with eyes wide open how he crawled up Cat Hill and Harlem Hill, but flew down the opposite sides of the upgrades.”<br />
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We met up with G- on the west side of the Park. I was excited. We had a great team that was going to work together well. I tried to caution the guides that during the race their excitement would tempt them to sprint when I started downhill. Instead, I told them they should only run their natural sustainable pace and that they could space themselves in font to clear a path for me by running ahead when I was just cresting the hill and staggering their lead. In my heart I knew that with the combined enthusiasm we all felt, restraint would be the farthest thing from our minds. All in all I felt great physically and I knew this little team was going to get me throughout the five bridges and five Burroughs of the NYC marathon.<br />
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On Friday we checked into our hotel in Manhattan. Saturday AM we all got together at the expo. The NY expo is not my favorite. To me it seems it is dominated by the big sneaker manufacturers and none of the little mom-and-pop businesses that make the expo fun to explore. Saturday PM we got together for dinner at Salute. We all stoked up on some excellent pasta for the big race. We were also stoked up with some excellent training and some excellent camaraderie and <i>THAT</i> was destined to make this a great race!<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_o04yXF_g1C0/TSUy0tAdMjI/AAAAAAAADKw/nf8CWUmjOj8/s1600/DSC_7452.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="212" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_o04yXF_g1C0/TSUy0tAdMjI/AAAAAAAADKw/nf8CWUmjOj8/s320/DSC_7452.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Why is this man so happy? Because he's looking at the most beautiful woman in NY--behind the camera!</i></td></tr>
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<div style="color: #3d85c6;"><i><span style="font-size: large;">NYC Marathon 11.7.2010</span></i></div>I learned a valuable lesson last year. We had to be at the bus pick-up spot at about 5:30 AM. I ate a quick breakfast about 4 AM. By the time the race started for me at 8:55, my breakfast was gone. By mile fifteen I had bonked. This year, I ate a couple of bites in the hotel room and put the rest of my breakfast in my pockets. Also, last year we waited forever at the pick-up spot to get loaded on the bus. This year we got there early. I think it was around 4:30.<br />
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It was a chilly morning, probably around 40 or maybe slightly cooler. I met my guides at the bus pick-up spot for AWDs on 5th Ave. We got onto a bus and on the road without waiting too terribly long. It was not clear whether that was going to be a good thing or not. I was afraid that waiting at Staten Island would be colder than waiting on the street in Manhattan. It was quite breezy. The wind was about 15-20 out of the NW. Waiting outdoors for a couple of hours would not be fun.<br />
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<div style="color: #b45f06;"><i><b><span style="font-size: small;">On the island</span></b></i></div>Again, we were lucky. We were able to wait in a tent at the assembly area and out of the wind. What at treat that was. Besides being out of the wind, they had food and drinks. It also gave me an opportunity to meet some of the other AWDs, particularly other quads. I don’t see too many other quadriplegics using crank chairs. When I do, and I’m afraid this was my first encounter, I am very curious about their bike and its setup.<br />
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Inspiration is a strange thing. You never know where you will find it. It has been my observation than one has only to open one’s eyes to be inspired. There’s an inspiration in every mile. And on this day, we were not yet at mile 0.<br />
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Next to me in the tent was a young lady from New Zealand on her own “incredible journey.” Catriona Wiliams is the founder of the <a href="http://catwalk.org.nz/" target="_blank">Cat-Walk Trust</a>, a foundation that raises money to further research for a cure to spinal injury. She was an Olympic equestrian hopeful and broke her 6th and 7th cervical vertebrae in a riding accident. After two years of training, she led her team to the NY City Marathon, raising $300,000 to fund spinal injury research. <br />
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I was excited to meet other athletes with disabilities similar to my own and especially to have the opportunity to check out their crank chairs and the adaptations they had made. I overlooked the fact that my guides may not have been around seriously disabled individuals enough to feel entirely comfortable. <br />
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“I walked into a tent surrounded by disabled athletes,” confessed KVD. “Without a thought, I stared. Some athletes with 1 leg, no legs, no arm strength, and some mentally disabled. I was taken aback. I thought, ‘You want to participate in a 26 mile race?’” <br />
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I think KVD reflected deeply on how valuable her opportunity to run the marathon really was. She wrote afterward, “How selfish of me to think about throwing away my gift to run 2 months ago, and I have a full functioning body with well equipped joints! It was then in that tent, that I understood and decided. I'm going to run my heart out! And it was a breath of fresh air to run marathon #5 with heart, desire, and guts…”<br />
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Soon we were called to the starting line. Sitting there, staring a mile to the crest of that tall bridge, my mind went through a flurry of emotions including excitement, fear, and pride. Mary Whittenberg shouts, “All of you, this moment is all of yours! New York City awaits you!” And it seemed that before we knew it, we were rolling across the starting line.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>The first two miles</i></td></tr>
</tbody></table>I think our slow start up the bridge was a strange feeling for CD and KVD. G- had done this before. Soon all the others were gone. I was slowly cranking my way up the bridge. My teammates were walking, feeling strange that they were not running at the start of the race. The chilly wind blew hard across the bridge but despite our discomfort we were already having a blast. The view from atop the Verrazano Narrows Bridge was spectacular. The Statue of Liberty was beautiful. You could never enjoy this particular view at any other time. We were all alone at the top of the Verrazano Narrows Bridge with unabated view of Manhattan, Brooklyn, and the New York harbor, And we were just getting started!<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJpsN4RFkHRwW8UCNaX_uqHX1fOpGSHGxdWo29qzf2E3Ldj_9pSNIbW-Pv6PaEanByznuXEeqxHTYLPSRU0Joh2kWex570BxkVZhhtKDjCrVH0fudlfzv-y165ZzDJWM-iOJn8e3igPwnG/s1600/62039-083-031f.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJpsN4RFkHRwW8UCNaX_uqHX1fOpGSHGxdWo29qzf2E3Ldj_9pSNIbW-Pv6PaEanByznuXEeqxHTYLPSRU0Joh2kWex570BxkVZhhtKDjCrVH0fudlfzv-y165ZzDJWM-iOJn8e3igPwnG/s320/62039-083-031f.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Brightroom.com</i></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_o04yXF_g1C0/TTzPd8UyxWI/AAAAAAAADRY/QZhQXidY56Q/s1600/62039-083-035f.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_o04yXF_g1C0/TTzPd8UyxWI/AAAAAAAADRY/QZhQXidY56Q/s320/62039-083-035f.jpg" width="213" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Brightroom.com</i></td></tr>
</tbody></table>Soon the elite ladies were passing us in the lanes on our right. I wasn’t able to see them well this year. As we neared the top of the bridge, the race started for us. My guides started running down the bridge as I neared the top. Near the bottom of the bridge I passed them cranking as hard as I could; probably about 20 mph. As we entered Brooklyn, the crowds were there with their legendary welcome.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgB4ZBu1naBIqADISTW-OGf3JhpKDboa5YWyZCTapDIuRcTMDTfNFDiNXeHAl8AFTW23YjoG0ImQYhjtsXwY-nPeQ8AVkCf-1XnABHZAYtp16d9CwP5eypckyfTrq8xmeGHWW1fJJYQh5GJ/s1600/DSC_7505.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgB4ZBu1naBIqADISTW-OGf3JhpKDboa5YWyZCTapDIuRcTMDTfNFDiNXeHAl8AFTW23YjoG0ImQYhjtsXwY-nPeQ8AVkCf-1XnABHZAYtp16d9CwP5eypckyfTrq8xmeGHWW1fJJYQh5GJ/s320/DSC_7505.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div style="color: #b45f06;"><br />
<i><b><span style="font-size: small;">Celebrities and other ordinary people</span></b></i></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_o04yXF_g1C0/TTzPCa6DUfI/AAAAAAAADQo/f93fJBQaiok/s1600/62039-2829-005f.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_o04yXF_g1C0/TTzPCa6DUfI/AAAAAAAADQo/f93fJBQaiok/s320/62039-2829-005f.jpg" width="213" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Brightroom.com</i></td></tr>
</tbody></table>While most folks’ attention is drawn to the celebrities in the race, this year did not disappoint. Al Roker (I beat Al...) and Meridith Vieira from the Today Show both finished the race as did the Chilean miner, Edison Pena, and Subway’s Jared Fogle. Besides my teammates, I found inspiration in some more ‘ordinary’ people.’<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Brightroom.com</i></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_o04yXF_g1C0/TTzPAkADFbI/AAAAAAAADQk/cQ7XXWbgZSs/s1600/62039-12849-007f.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_o04yXF_g1C0/TTzPAkADFbI/AAAAAAAADQk/cQ7XXWbgZSs/s320/62039-12849-007f.jpg" width="212" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Brightroom.com</i></td></tr>
</tbody></table>As I made my way up 4th Avenue I passed a few other AWDs that had gone ahead of me as I cranked up the bridge. One of whom was 78-year-old <a href="http://www.atlanticmidwest.org/news_marathon.html" target="_blank">Sister Mary Gladys</a>. She was on her way to completing her <i>27th NY Marathon!</i> Throughout Brooklyn the guides were having a large time, getting the crowds on the street excited and yelling. During the previous week, we had driven through this part of town. We had stopped at a drug store to buy a few things we forgot to bring on the trip. I think I had been wearing a Hope For The Warriors shirt. The clerk at the checkout counter asked if I was going to be in the marathon on Sunday and I told her I was. Now as we came up 4th Ave near the store, I heard a voice, “Is that you, Mr. K-?” It was the clerk, who remembered my name from my credit card.<br />
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Later in the race someone ran up beside me and patted me on the shoulder, yelling my name and shouting, “Go, K-!” I didn’t think much of it because I had my name on the front of my helmet. It wasn’t until a month later that I found out that the individual was my friend Mike, from Camp Lejeune, the race director for the Grand Prix Series races. He was timing the race from miles 9-15. Small world.<br />
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As we left Brooklyn, the runners were getting pretty thick but my teammates were doing a fantastic job of clearing out a path in front as I started down hills. It made all the difference in the world. I was keeping up a pretty good pace. I was also keeping myself fueled up on Gus and Snickers. So far everything was going well. CD was usually leading the charge down the hills. When an iPlodder couldn’t hear us shouting, CD would, rather assertively, put a hand on each shoulder of the self-deafened individual and physically “suggest” they move to the right.<br />
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This year we all went over the Queensborough Bridge together. Yeah! Unfortunately it was a long climb against a chilly head wind. Even last year when I bonked at this spot, I don’t remember it being this long. On the downhill side I held back instead of powering down the hill. I could see bales of hay on the side of the street where the course switched back. I decided not to use the bales for their intended purpose.<br />
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<div style="color: #b45f06;"><i><b><span style="font-size: small;">Manhattan-like no other</span></b></i></div>All the length of 1st Avenue we made good time. Crowds were unbelievably loud. The guides were having a great time and were absolutely fantastic. As we started approaching the Bronx I noticed G- wasn’t pushing ahead on the downhills like she had in earlier miles. The energy and enthusiasm that we all felt was taking its toll. This was a brutal way for a runner to take on a race. She was just coming back from a nasty injury in the spring too. It is an incredibly motivating experience to work closely together on any type of team. When you work closely together with a common goal, a common purpose, and for a cause you can identify with, no obstacle can stand in your way. This was probably G-‘s most difficult marathon of her life. <br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_o04yXF_g1C0/TTzO4Ou7pTI/AAAAAAAADQU/PEeaSsTtncU/s1600/62039-17420-027f.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_o04yXF_g1C0/TTzO4Ou7pTI/AAAAAAAADQU/PEeaSsTtncU/s320/62039-17420-027f.jpg" width="212" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Brightroom.com</i></td></tr>
</tbody></table>As she put it, “I tried my best to sprint with “y'all” (my southern influence has started to diminish her good English) but my legs were cramping and on a few occasions, when I didn't see that American flag wavering or two bright yellow shirts ahead, I thought I didn't have it in me to catch up. But I just thought of you, thought of all of us crossing that finish line together and what that would feel like once again, and I pushed through the pain and fatigue because you inspire me to push through everything. Finishing the marathon with you last year has motivated me to get through any rough patches this past year, be it physical or emotional. Finishing it with you two years in a row is hard to put into words...this experience has grounded me and will continue to inspire me for the rest of my life.”<br />
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<div style="color: #b45f06;"><i><b>It all came together</b></i></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_o04yXF_g1C0/TTzSzj7TuFI/AAAAAAAADR8/SwBfaopOFlo/s1600/62039-15021-003f.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_o04yXF_g1C0/TTzSzj7TuFI/AAAAAAAADR8/SwBfaopOFlo/s320/62039-15021-003f.jpg" width="213" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Brightroom.com</i></td></tr>
</tbody></table>Likewise for me the event had its motivating effects. When others are working so desperately for your success, you feel motivated to push harder and to settle for nothing less than your best. I think that this race was a turning point for me. I think that out there on those streets of New York, I no longer was willing to accept any more “almosts.” I had my fueling/energy problems solved. I was trained and in peak condition. I had an excellent team in front of me pouring their hearts and souls into every step of the race just to make my endeavor successful. I had literally millions of New York spectators screaming at the top of their lungs.<br />
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Last year, I had nothing going for me as we returned up 5th Ave. I was totally depleted and cranking pitifully slow in my lowest gears. This year, I had everything going for me. The last few miles through Manhattan were not only exhilarating, but I had more energy than I could contain. I couldn’t believe my pace.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_o04yXF_g1C0/TSUyhOWfLiI/AAAAAAAADKY/1onrcPYX49A/s1600/DSC_7536.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="212" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_o04yXF_g1C0/TSUyhOWfLiI/AAAAAAAADKY/1onrcPYX49A/s320/DSC_7536.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
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As we entered Central Park, although the trees were still greener than I expected, the beauty of the fall colors was resplendent. You could have easily talked me into stopping just to enjoy the colors. The spectators were thicker and they were closer. My teammate met us and snapped a few pics. As we turned west onto 59th St., I suddenly had a sinking feeling. This friendship we had developed over the past few days had brought us intensely close together for this very event. Now in the final mile, the realization set in. This great event which had brought together was now largely behind us. Again, I wanted to slow down, not from fatigue but from a yearning to make the experience last.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_o04yXF_g1C0/TSUyn-5HBDI/AAAAAAAADKc/V7oLLkEdmGo/s1600/DSC_7548.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="212" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_o04yXF_g1C0/TSUyn-5HBDI/AAAAAAAADKc/V7oLLkEdmGo/s320/DSC_7548.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
<div style="color: #b45f06;"><i><b><span style="font-size: small;">What pushed me</span></b></i></div><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_o04yXF_g1C0/TTzO8WNL0OI/AAAAAAAADQc/RO_Tmh4KQcE/s1600/62039-28451-026f.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_o04yXF_g1C0/TTzO8WNL0OI/AAAAAAAADQc/RO_Tmh4KQcE/s320/62039-28451-026f.jpg" width="213" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Brightroom.com</i></td></tr>
</tbody></table>I indulged in a few high-fives with spectators but for the most part pushed on. I knew my time was going to be better than last year and that knowledge pushed me too. But again the big motivation for me was the sight before my very eyes; the sight of this team of guides that were putting everything they had into making this a successful race for me.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div>KVD later recalled the experience like this, “Looking back over the race, I was delighted when K- was flying down hills. This is where he would make up his time. I was confident for 26.2 miles because I know we all felt the support and drive from our team as we worked together. G- was an awesome supporter."<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_o04yXF_g1C0/TTzO6rhedyI/AAAAAAAADQY/wtm2RqP-61c/s1600/62039-9692-023f.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="214" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_o04yXF_g1C0/TTzO6rhedyI/AAAAAAAADQY/wtm2RqP-61c/s320/62039-9692-023f.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Brightroom.com</i></td></tr>
</tbody></table> "She ran Brooklyn screaming at the crowd to wake up and cheer! Never will I forget watching CD sprint down Cat Hill at mile 25, at sub 7-min/mile pace, with DP on his tail, clearing the way and making running look so effortless. I was so proud of everyone! The experience was special: Volunteering to help K- was like no other volunteer effort in my life. I gave that race to him because I wanted to. He will never understand how rewarding it was for me, but if words could dance, mine would do cartwheels!”<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_o04yXF_g1C0/TSUx5LNOB3I/AAAAAAAADKQ/Ih0KXNzOQwQ/s1600/DSC_7555.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="212" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_o04yXF_g1C0/TSUx5LNOB3I/AAAAAAAADKQ/Ih0KXNzOQwQ/s320/DSC_7555.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>At 40K, CD and KVD in front make a wide opining for me</i></td></tr>
</tbody></table>Believe me, KVD, I understand. I witnessed your feat. I felt G-‘s pain. And I could never forget the great time we ALL felt that day. Hopefully this blog post will convey to others some small sense of the teamwork, camaraderie, and purpose that we all felt out there that day.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-zlqY8lhV1vlPz3h0lRwK9ZzrDLb8ZMHXtURNILZMnm739JsvKzUwiYpOxP3wd5o3vkqaarIX-Lx5xqUetHhzp7GruDvki6SuLuAQJFTbgLsMK-swUHaZkY35PrNewdLiQ9RSkax-2ryG/s1600/DSC_7512.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-zlqY8lhV1vlPz3h0lRwK9ZzrDLb8ZMHXtURNILZMnm739JsvKzUwiYpOxP3wd5o3vkqaarIX-Lx5xqUetHhzp7GruDvki6SuLuAQJFTbgLsMK-swUHaZkY35PrNewdLiQ9RSkax-2ryG/s320/DSC_7512.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
<div style="color: #b45f06;"><i><b><span style="font-size: small;">It can’t last</span></b></i></div><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_o04yXF_g1C0/TTzO0UgjebI/AAAAAAAADQM/9PZemPBb4XE/s1600/62039-28563-032f.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_o04yXF_g1C0/TTzO0UgjebI/AAAAAAAADQM/9PZemPBb4XE/s320/62039-28563-032f.jpg" width="212" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Brightroom.com</i></td></tr>
</tbody></table>As we passed Columbia Circle and entered the Park for the last quarter mile of the race, we all felt like the eyes of the world were upon us. There is no place better to finish a race than this race and this place, “where the world comes to run.” It seemed like only a blink of an eye since our team first met the previous Wednesday evening and made our practice run in the Park. <br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div>At the finish line Mary Bryant from Achilles met us with a little dance. We collected our medals and posed for a few pictures that will be treasured for years. Through the hard work of these incredible teammates, my official time was 5:44. They did an amazing job. It was awesome to have so much energy at the end AND to have been able to take about a half hour off my time. I wouldn’t have happened without them out in front as pathfinders.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Brightroom.com</i></td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Brightroom.com</i></td></tr>
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<div style="color: #b45f06;"><i><b><span style="font-size: small;">The END of “almosts”</span></b></i></div>Since this was my second NYC Marathon, it was now a NYC PR! Sadly, however, my legacy of an unbroken string of last place handbike finishes came to an end. Without the guides, that record would not only be intact, but I would have been beaten by 78-year-old Sister Mary Gladys. It’s harder to say which loss would be harder to endure. Thanks, Achilles! And thank you, my amazing guide teammates!<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9lqp8jD-th72z4QoA4bXrOSeN8tEazi47P7KNJIeDpzoS9HAyZaL4g1hMe1TODOmgjZiRXMRzo9TakdxkQEnfY8saa_yMJ8uQRm7-_S0eQoQHhE1o6WTMqdlKRsvstksY-a3hl5yp3TJf/s1600/DSC_7563.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9lqp8jD-th72z4QoA4bXrOSeN8tEazi47P7KNJIeDpzoS9HAyZaL4g1hMe1TODOmgjZiRXMRzo9TakdxkQEnfY8saa_yMJ8uQRm7-_S0eQoQHhE1o6WTMqdlKRsvstksY-a3hl5yp3TJf/s320/DSC_7563.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
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<div style="color: #3d85c6;"><i><span style="font-size: large;">OBX Half Marathon 11.15.2010</span></i></div>Next our journey brought us back to our home state of NC for the OBX Half Marathon. For folks that aren’t aware, NC is the most military-friendly state in the country. These three races have a symbolic significance to me, the MCM, the NYC, and the OBX. Since my races are motivated by helping the wounded heroes of the Global War on Terror, it is fitting that I honor them with my participation in events in the cities that sacrificed so heavily on 9.11.2001, and then to return to my home state where I enjoy the blessings of our liberty because of the protection and sacrifices of so many brave service men and women.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>NC Outer Banks (OBX)</i></td></tr>
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Our efforts benefit a non-profit called <a href="http://www.hopeforthewarriors.org/" target="_blank">Hope For The Warriors</a>. This organization looks out for the needs of the wounded and their families. They have renovated homes for the needs of the disabled troops, they have provided service and companion animals for those needing the assistance of a critter companion, and they have provided scholarships for spouses and caregivers who often pick up the burden becoming the family breadwinner. Take the time to learn about all their great programs by visiting their website, <a href="http://www.hopeforthewarriors.org/" target="_blank">Hope For The Warriors</a>.<br />
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At the OBX, my teammate and I were the only Team Hope For The Warriors participants. I took part in the half marathon and my teammate ran the 8K. Hope For The Warriors allows individuals to take part in events to raise money for their cause. Some large events such as the MCM and the NYC include H4W as an ‘official charity partner.’ <a href="http://www.hopeforthewarriors.org/tww.html" target="_blank">Team Hope For The Warriors</a>; Large or small, we’re proud to participate in any race in which I can benefit Hope For The Warriors.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_o04yXF_g1C0/R_A4F8LiK4I/AAAAAAAABdA/uXH0FWXlja4/s1600/DSC_1884_1.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="212" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_o04yXF_g1C0/R_A4F8LiK4I/AAAAAAAABdA/uXH0FWXlja4/s320/DSC_1884_1.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
<div style="color: #b45f06;"><i><b><span style="font-size: small;">I don’t get all the fun!</span></b></i></div>The OBX event features a full marathon, a half, an 8K, a 5K, and a kids’ fun run. All the road races except the half are routed down a dirt trail for part of the course. I hope they fix this access problem in future races. 2010 was my third year participating in this event. I have gotten to know some of the event management and they are becoming quite accommodating to the idea of wheelers in their race. I hope more wheelers will participate in the event in the future. <br />
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On Saturday my teammate ran the 8K. I got out on the course and yelled and shouted to the runners. At about the ¼ mile point some of the runners cracked up laughing at my good-humored encouragement, “You can do it! You can do it! Only five miles to go!” I had a lot of fun and I think I was one of the very few spectators out there on the course. The runners seemed to appreciate it, except for the deafened iPlodders.<br />
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After her race I got on my bike and rode from Kitty Hawk to a little community at the end of North Carolina called Stumpy Point. It’s worth looking at Stumpy Point in Google Earth because it is a small fishing village that is nearly below sea level. It was about a thirty mile ride but it was essentially all down wind. I love riding in rural areas devoid of traffic so I had a good time.<br />
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<div style="color: #b45f06;"><i><b>Who’da thunk?</b></i></div>I did have a close call, or maybe I should say, a wake-up call. Highway 264 in this part of Dare County has access to basically 5 features. There is a land fill, an Air Force bombing range, a Navy bombing range, the community of Stumpy Point, and hundreds of miles of forest; mostly pocosin. The road is long and straight; traffic travels fast. As I approached one curve, I could see a car in front and one in back. I knew they didn’t see each other. I knew they would meet at the curve. And I knew they wouldn’t be slowing down. That meant that the car behind me would probably be in the other’s lane when they met.<br />
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I wanted no part of such an event so I made my way over to the edge of the road and squeezed onto the grass shoulder between the pavement and the guard rail. The cars met as I predicted with plenty of room and without incident. However, my troubles were just beginning.<br />
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As I got back onto the road, gravity got the best of me. Anyone who has ridden a Top End XLT knows the front wheel, i.e., steering, is prone to a condition called “wheel flop.” The best description I can offer is to picture a caster such as on a grocery cart. Now picture the angle of the caster being changed such that the bottom of the wheel is angled forward. The resulting geometry would make the wheel trail normally when the wheel is rolling, but would cause the wheel to tend to flop to the side as the wheel slowed. In the trailing position, the caster actually holds the weight up higher and when the wheel flops, the weight of the cart will cause the caster to fall to the side.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_o04yXF_g1C0/TSUmBVoAY6I/AAAAAAAADKA/SbX-J_MlNB8/s1600/DSC_7583.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="199" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_o04yXF_g1C0/TSUmBVoAY6I/AAAAAAAADKA/SbX-J_MlNB8/s320/DSC_7583.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
Another proclivity of the XLT and most handbikes is a susceptibility to road crown or cross grade. This curve had enough bank for cars travelling 70 mph or so. When I pulled out onto the pavement with almost no forward speed, the front wheel flopped to the left and I rolled down the steep bank and into the ditch. All I can say is thank god it was the left ditch. The right ditch is more appropriately called a canal and is big enough to swallow a semi. A group of bikers came by after a few minutes and rolled me back and out of the ditch and got me back onto the road. Fortunately the rest of the ride went without incident.<br />
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<i style="color: #b45f06;"><b>A “must-do” race</b></i><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_o04yXF_g1C0/TSUk3IAcyMI/AAAAAAAADJU/h2x-dBl-AfM/s1600/IMG_4564-MNC.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="213" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_o04yXF_g1C0/TSUk3IAcyMI/AAAAAAAADJU/h2x-dBl-AfM/s320/IMG_4564-MNC.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>TriDuo.com</i></td></tr>
</tbody></table>Starting with the Marine Corps Marathon, I had started changing my fueling strategy. I started consuming more calories sooner during the race. A friend recommended a endurance drink mix called Perpetuem. I finally got my hands on some and decided to give it a try for the OBX. I was optimistic for this race. Even if everything went wrong for me; the course is wonderful and scenic.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_o04yXF_g1C0/TSUlQz-l2LI/AAAAAAAADJ8/sQ4HKP5xNWo/s1600/DSC_7570.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="212" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_o04yXF_g1C0/TSUlQz-l2LI/AAAAAAAADJ8/sQ4HKP5xNWo/s320/DSC_7570.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Wright Brothers memorial TriDuo.com</i></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_o04yXF_g1C0/TSUlPAlFeQI/AAAAAAAADJ4/lC8F5OYyNCI/s1600/DSC_7596.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="212" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_o04yXF_g1C0/TSUlPAlFeQI/AAAAAAAADJ4/lC8F5OYyNCI/s320/DSC_7596.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>BS, my co-worker, is ready for his first half marathon</i></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_o04yXF_g1C0/TSUlMsCbz0I/AAAAAAAADJ0/qUlHCOWe2zY/s1600/DSC_7594.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="212" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_o04yXF_g1C0/TSUlMsCbz0I/AAAAAAAADJ0/qUlHCOWe2zY/s320/DSC_7594.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Karen, an OBX staff member, gets to run the half this year</i></td></tr>
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We were staying at a motel near the start and I was rolling down the street to the starting line before sunrise. The half marathon course winds past Jockeys Ridge and through several sound-front communities before turning west and crossing the Washington-Baum Bridge and finishing in the historic town of Manteo, thought to be the site of Sir Walter Raleigh’s ‘Lost Colony.”<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuvu3BBh4CR2toGYCzszXGYD27k8uJu_epBV3srpl2bVR83wjSYN910BPOaghyphenhyphenHSJrUAW8VxDWFzOU27I8gD9Bplt4d13YVVFKM3fZMKAk45xL6gWLXFvwNmPSYez_KhKnc-zFUnysXWzF/s1600/1857-10030-9552-RWA.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuvu3BBh4CR2toGYCzszXGYD27k8uJu_epBV3srpl2bVR83wjSYN910BPOaghyphenhyphenHSJrUAW8VxDWFzOU27I8gD9Bplt4d13YVVFKM3fZMKAk45xL6gWLXFvwNmPSYez_KhKnc-zFUnysXWzF/s320/1857-10030-9552-RWA.JPG" width="213" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>TriDuo.com</i></td></tr>
</tbody></table>The weather was perfect, probably about 45 degrees and almost no wind. I started about two minutes ahead of the runners which was not enough. One year they started me about 15 minutes ahead. That lead allowed me to get across the bridge before the runners got too thick. By the time I got to the bridge this year, I was pretty well surrounded.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_o04yXF_g1C0/TSUky6b3wyI/AAAAAAAADJM/1ne3ayy_G-w/s1600/1857-33506-9177-GRC.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_o04yXF_g1C0/TSUky6b3wyI/AAAAAAAADJM/1ne3ayy_G-w/s320/1857-33506-9177-GRC.JPG" width="212" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>TriDuo.com</i></td></tr>
</tbody></table>One nice accommodation the OBX has always availed me in the past is bicycle guides. The guides are invaluable when I am descending the big bridge, but only if they move runners over in time. I hate to say it but this year’s guide let me down there. On the downhill side of the bridge, one young lady wearing earphones would not move out of my path. Though the bicycle guide moved in front of me as I crested the bridge, he never made her aware of her impending peril from behind. He ended up being more in my way than she was. As I got up speed coming down the bridge, I ran over a traffic cone as I squeezed past my bicycle guide and brushed his left pedal with my right shoulder as I passed him. It was a close call for all three of us.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_o04yXF_g1C0/TSUkwNpBP9I/AAAAAAAADJI/DVb2atoB314/s1600/1857-50376-0203-MAB.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_o04yXF_g1C0/TSUkwNpBP9I/AAAAAAAADJI/DVb2atoB314/s320/1857-50376-0203-MAB.JPG" width="228" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>TriDuo.com</i></td></tr>
</tbody></table>The rest of the way to the finish was relatively flat. I ran beside a young lady the remaining way in. It turned out she placed in her age bracket. I had lots of energy for the whole race. Maybe the Perpetuem did the trick. I finished with a PR for the OBX of 1:45. Maybe those ‘almosts’ were gone for good! <i>Back-to-back race PRs!</i><br />
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<div style="color: #b45f06;"><i><b>Next year’s star</b></i></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_o04yXF_g1C0/TSUlErdduvI/AAAAAAAADJo/UYIA1dUFKt0/s1600/DSC_7645.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="212" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_o04yXF_g1C0/TSUlErdduvI/AAAAAAAADJo/UYIA1dUFKt0/s320/DSC_7645.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div>The OBX folks gave me a nice framed picture as the division winner. I met a young man I had emailed in the past. I met Joe’s wife last year when she finished the half marathon. She was curious about my chair and told me her husband was a quad. I told her to tell him I said to get out there and take part in next year’s race. We exchanged emails a few times and this year, he was waiting for his wife in the finish area. Again, I encouraged him to race next year. I handed him the trophy picture and told him to get used to the feel of it. “I expect you to kick my butt next year,” I told Joe.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_o04yXF_g1C0/TSUlBX_rifI/AAAAAAAADJk/Ui32r0KipUo/s1600/DSC_7644.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="212" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_o04yXF_g1C0/TSUlBX_rifI/AAAAAAAADJk/Ui32r0KipUo/s320/DSC_7644.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Gettysburg, PA, High School track team members run their first endurance event--and WIN!</i></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_o04yXF_g1C0/TSUk-qxeQyI/AAAAAAAADJg/QRVNqrmmQso/s1600/DSC_7646.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="212" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_o04yXF_g1C0/TSUk-qxeQyI/AAAAAAAADJg/QRVNqrmmQso/s320/DSC_7646.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Two race PRs in a row! The end of 'almosts'???</i></td></tr>
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<div style="color: #3d85c6;"><i><span style="font-size: large;">Space Coast Marathon 11.28.2010</span></i></div>As if 2-1/2 marathons in fifteen days was not enough, late in the season I added one last marathon to my schedule. <a href="http://www.spacecoastmarathon.com/" target="_blank">Space Coast Marathon</a>, in Cocoa, FL, is billed as Florida’s oldest marathon. My teammate and I drove down the Friday following Thanksgiving. The day evening we arrived, we took the time to drive the course. I had been in pursuit of that elusive sub-4 hour time all year long. I hoped that this course would be flat and straight—<i>just what I needed to do a sub-4.</i><br />
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It was dark when we reconned the course. I was terribly disappointed. In my mind, I could envision the streets on race day. I could foresee a row of cones down the middle of the street with outbound runners on one side and returning runners on the other. The streets were narrow. They were old and steeply crowned. And although the course was flat overall, the streets ran along the river bank and took every little dip and rise along the way. I could see myself getting bogged down in the runners as they filled the narrow lanes and I got bogged down in the uphills; unable to pass on the downhills.<br />
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After my teammate and I finished reconning the course, we started walking around the village of Cocoa, looking for a place to eat. We finally settled on a pizza place and started working our way through the Friday night crowd looking for a table. Over in the corner I saw a raised arm and two faces looking our way with big smiles. BN, who lives near me, was also taking part in the Space Coast. As coincidence would have it, we stumbled upon BN and his wife AN. That made it easier to choose a table.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_o04yXF_g1C0/TSUixLeCesI/AAAAAAAADJE/KJear30OUDc/s1600/DSC_7671.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="212" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_o04yXF_g1C0/TSUixLeCesI/AAAAAAAADJE/KJear30OUDc/s320/DSC_7671.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
Saturday we went to the expo at the Kennedy Space Center visitor complex. We drove around Cocoa Beach looking for a good place to ride bikes. Later, we decided on a spot near the main highway near where we stayed. That after noon I rode about six miles with BN. While it wasn’t a particularly challenging ride for him, I felt like I was WAY out of shape. “No big deal,” I thought. With the difficulties, I predicted I would have with the course, this warmup was probably going to be the best ride of my weekend.<br />
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<div style="color: #b45f06;"><i><b>A dark start</b></i></div>For the rest of the day, my teammate got the bike ready for the race and we had dinner with BN and AN. We got back to our hotel and turned in early to get up early in the AM. Our race was supposed to start around 6:10 AM. We would be starting out in the dark. I had bright lights on my bike so I wasn’t bothered by the darkness for safety reasons. In the hot summer months I have to train at night because I don’t sweat. Night time is my only escape from the extreme heat. I was used to training in the dark. We had reconned the course in the dark. The dark wasn’t going to bother me. I just hoped that the road marshals kept the course secured. Cars DO bother me. I kept my lights turned on.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_o04yXF_g1C0/TSUiduZHM9I/AAAAAAAADIw/9Ie5FfbEYhs/s1600/712365-5001-0005.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="263" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_o04yXF_g1C0/TSUiduZHM9I/AAAAAAAADIw/9Ie5FfbEYhs/s400/712365-5001-0005.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>BN Leads the way through the dark. MarathonFoto.com</i></td></tr>
</tbody></table>The course basically consists of a north out-and-back then a south out-and-back. The start and finish are both near the middle of the course. The half marathoners and the full marathoners start at the same time. The half marathoners do only the south part of the course. Based on our viewing of the course Friday night, My teammate and I planned to meet so she could pass me drinks and food when I returned from the first half. Then she would drive to a spot we had picked out to meet me near the south turn-around.<br />
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The first pleasant surprise was that there were no cones down the middle of the streets. Maybe I just don’t like being fenced in. I like an OPEN road. On a handbike, you can use the road crown to your advantage if you can move left and right freely. You can set up your compensator for a particular amount of cross grade. Since most roads have a dome-shaped surface, you can move to a spot on the street where that amount of cross grade is available. You can also use the right side of the crown to turn right and the left side to turn left. The big advantage of having an open road as opposed to separate lanes for outbound and returning runners is that you have more room to pass particularly on downhill stretches.<br />
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At 10K I was about 55 minutes. That was not all that good for me. I was not having any problems passing runners when I needed to. In fact, most runners moved aside willingly AND offered a lot of encouragement. Only when I got behind a pace group did I have any problem passing. But even then, they were very cooperative when they heard me coming. And they usually yelled back in support. It was a great crowd to run with.<br />
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At the half I returned downtown and met my teammate for a fueling stop. By now the sun was up and I didn’t need the battery for my lights. I unloaded that brick and tanked up with more perpetuem and another Snickers. My split was 1:50. I can normally do a flat half in 1:40. Again, I wasn’t excited about my time, but if I could maintain my pace, I might actually beat 4 hours. I was pushing myself pretty hard however. So with the road in my favor and a belly full of Perpetuem (and a Snickers), I was moving along pretty well. At least at this point in time, I was passing runners mostly, instead of them passing me.<br />
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I felt the south leg of the course was going to be more difficult. I was going to be heading into the returning half-marathoners. Surprisingly I seemed to have a little more energy. The Perpetuem must be working. The little uphills along the course didn’t seem to be so bad as I thought they would be two night previous. I wasn’t really watching my GPS. At about mile 19.6 I crossed a timing mat with a clock. I looked at the time on my GPS and asked the timer what mile he was timing. He said it would be mile 20 on the return. <br />
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<div style="color: #b45f06;"><i><b>Unexpected strength</b></i></div>I looked at my GPS and it said my time was something like 2:30. I should have been elated. However, I surmised that I had accidentally turned the GPS off at some point by hitting it with my chin. It happens pretty commonly. Just before the south turn-around I passed my teammate. She was waiting for me as we had planned. As I passed she snapped a few pics then I told her what energy goodies I wanted. I went on down to the turn-around and found the road to be too narrow to turn around my handbike. I extended down the course a tenth of a mile or so and turned at the point where the single lane rejoined the other lane. I had had the same problem at the northern turnaround, too.<br />
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I stopped for refueling and drank a Spark mixed in a Powerade and sucked down two Gus. My teammate didn’t say anything about my time so I didn’t think it was anything but average. I started heading back for slightly more than 10K left to the finish line. <br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_o04yXF_g1C0/TSUiOZ3h4UI/AAAAAAAADIs/-yCRp0v2vOc/s1600/712370-6045-0013.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_o04yXF_g1C0/TSUiOZ3h4UI/AAAAAAAADIs/-yCRp0v2vOc/s320/712370-6045-0013.jpg" width="211" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>MarathonFoto.com</i></td></tr>
</tbody></table>About that time, however, I started feeling a slight sensation of a condition that is common to quadriplegics called autonomic dysreflexia. To the non-medical reader, Wikipedia describes AD “as a potentially life threatening condition which can be considered a medical emergency requiring immediate attention. AD occurs most often in spinal cord-injured individuals with spinal lesions above the (T6) spinal cord level. Acute AD is a reaction of the autonomic (involuntary) nervous system to overstimulation. It is characterized by severe paroxysmal hypertension (episodic high blood pressure) associated with throbbing headaches…”<br />
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Well, at least for that point in time, that episode of AD was not anywhere near the “acute” stage. I take medicine which suppresses the effects of AD. It also suppresses my blood pressure. It is one of the things that makes vigorous activity so difficult for me. My blood pressure normally runs about 90 over 50. <br />
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When I was heading back, I could see the race clock at the 20 mile timing mat. I looked at my GPS to compare the times. I could subtract the times and figure out how long my GPS had been stopped. I could keep up with my time for rest of the race by adding the difference to my GPS time.<br />
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I was shocked! Both times were 2:42! I knew I could finish in an hour. I only had to maintain a ten-minute pace. That shouldn’t be a problem. For the rest of the race, I poured it on. I had more energy than at any point in the race. It felt good. The whole way back I could think of nothing but that elusive goal of beating 4 hours. It was looking like I was finally going to make that goal. Where I had called this year, “my year of almosts,” as I look back,<i> it was really the year of fulfilling many goals.</i><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_o04yXF_g1C0/TSUioSFXccI/AAAAAAAADI0/XEUt5023pYQ/s1600/712371-9050-0010.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_o04yXF_g1C0/TSUioSFXccI/AAAAAAAADI0/XEUt5023pYQ/s320/712371-9050-0010.jpg" width="209" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>MarathonFoto.com</i></td></tr>
</tbody></table>I call my main three goals Hope, Inspiration, and A Promise. This year, as last, I completed my goal of ‘Hope’ by completing the Marine Corps Marathon, the New York City Marathon, and the OBX Half Marathon, completing the two and a half marathons in fifteen days. I had reached my goal I call ‘Inspiration’ by handbiking 2008 miles early in the fall during a training ride. I was able to organize a small group of runners at work that crossed the finish line of the MCM having raised over $2800 for Hope For The Warriors. I was able to accomplish my personal goal of back-to-back half centuries one weekend in October. The goal that brought me greatest happiness was the fulfillment of my goal I call ‘A Promise.’ Our ‘promise’ was to raise $26,200 in donations, or $1,000 for every mile in a marathon. With the steadfast help of my teammate, we have raised over $30,000 for the cause. In short, it was looking like I would have many reasons to celebrate this day. <br />
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<div style="color: #b45f06;"><i><b>All smiles</b></i></div><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_o04yXF_g1C0/TSUh5PY4C_I/AAAAAAAADIo/aMjaFlWWN8o/s1600/712370-6045-0014.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_o04yXF_g1C0/TSUh5PY4C_I/AAAAAAAADIo/aMjaFlWWN8o/s320/712370-6045-0014.jpg" width="211" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>MarathonFoto.com</i></td></tr>
</tbody></table>If you were to have seen me in the first ¾ of the race you would have seen someone with a big scowl on his face. I had no idea I would beat 4 hours until now. During the final leg of the race, you would have seen a guy beaming with a smile almost too big for his face. I glance at my speed several times on the return and could see that I was easily bettering a 10-minute pace. I really didn’t know how well, there were just too many endorphins running around in my brain to do the math.<br />
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Although the AD was getting a little worse, it was still under control. In fact, I was probably enjoying a ‘normal’ blood pressure level and benefiting from a better energy level as a result. As I cruised into the finish area, I forgot to check the clock but I did remember to stop my GPS. I collected my medal and heard my teammate shout at me. It wasn’t until I cleared the finish area that I looked at the GPS and saw my time. I was amazed. When I met up with my teammate I asked her if she had seen my time. When they finally posted the official results, it confirmed I had a marathon PR. I had not only beat my 4-hour goal, I had blown it away by nearly a half hour! <i>My official time was 3:31:08!</i><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div>We stayed around the finish area until the awards and hung out with BN and AN. BN received a nice framed picture as an award for his winning crank chair time. I was on cloud nine with my time so I was just happy hanging around with other folks. Overall, it was a great race. It was probably the most scenic of any marathon I have ever participated in. For BN and me it was a great time—he with his first pace finish and I with my PR.<br />
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<div style="color: #3d85c6;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSaW_nkm554C22_80JwtDH9cmsqsagvH8H07USsqv6cv4ghdoZyB4Dg2tVgkLW4MvQYQrzHndPWIuCpIK2NGBNdhqjlgK_GRwF4U4X-FfwG7Gsksqn1EybPPNtzyFwzP99oPcONy3QloWs/s1600/DSC_7744.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="265" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSaW_nkm554C22_80JwtDH9cmsqsagvH8H07USsqv6cv4ghdoZyB4Dg2tVgkLW4MvQYQrzHndPWIuCpIK2NGBNdhqjlgK_GRwF4U4X-FfwG7Gsksqn1EybPPNtzyFwzP99oPcONy3QloWs/s400/DSC_7744.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><i><span style="font-size: large;">Strength in my weakness</span></i></div>So I always say, “Life with a disability is not a life filled with despair, it is a life filled with hope.” It was a year filled with great accomplishments. The falling short of my goal made me train harder. But ironically, every goal I achieved, I did so because of my disability, not in spite of it. In the end, when the episode of AD elevated my blood pressure to what was probably normal for most folks, I had more energy than I do most times. That which made me weak, on that day, was the source of my strength.<br />
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In a world that measures us by what we cannot do, i.e., <i>dis-</i>abled, my greatest accomplishment was <i>to use that disability to do what others cannot.</i> Though many say I inspire them, I am the one who is continuously inspired by others. But to them I would say, <i>to find your strength, look to that which makes you weak.</i><br />
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As I look forward to a new year of events, I must pause to remember the sacrifices of the wounded and fallen. The world in which we live and the freedoms we enjoy would be vastly different without the dedication and sacrifice of our nation’s service men and women. We owe them so much. Freedom is not free.<br />
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Please help with a donation to my fundraising campaign. All the money we raise goes to <a href="http://www.hopeforthewarriors.org/" target="_blank">Hope For The Warriors</a>. Learn about the great things they do.<br />
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Please make a secure online donation at my donation page: <a href="http://www.active.com/donate/2008miles" target="_blank">2008 Miles of Hope donations</a><br />
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRPXy1IyZGPI5AfRwFlYZYIrtsWYgKoWK07k9QIBvpSsvzxoo00v18Za3-GxSG2-xyQ8I3edGN3qdCT5iL7AmKdeDAOvvufhCZkrocf9quQoEGhxnQK0b_fSIEOtl4Snd8p15dn2xFXak5/s1600/62039-28565-006f.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRPXy1IyZGPI5AfRwFlYZYIrtsWYgKoWK07k9QIBvpSsvzxoo00v18Za3-GxSG2-xyQ8I3edGN3qdCT5iL7AmKdeDAOvvufhCZkrocf9quQoEGhxnQK0b_fSIEOtl4Snd8p15dn2xFXak5/s320/62039-28565-006f.jpg" width="212" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Brightroom.com</i></td></tr>
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-LetsRoll!LetsRollhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02704108831138764554noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1195166657047014867.post-39541063003435745842010-11-04T13:32:00.000-07:002010-11-04T14:48:10.234-07:00My year of almosts: Another 2008 Miles of Hope<div class="MsoNormal"></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
First of all, I usually save this stuff for the end. It’s too important. I handcycle for <a href="http://www.hopeforthewarriors.org/tww.html" target="_blank">Team Hope For The Warriors</a>. I race, excuse me, participate, in marathons and half marathons whenever and wherever I can to raise money for and awareness of the needs of wounded warriors. ALL the money I raise goes to <a href="http://www.hopeforthewarriors.org/" target="_blank">Hope For The Warriors</a>. They are an outstanding non-profit that looks out for our wounded heroes, particularly the seriously disabled.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
I’m not a warrior. I’m a grateful beneficiary of the freedom they protect. Whether you find the antics of this crazy quadriplegic amusing, inspiring, or despicable, I ask only one thing. Support my cause. You can make donations one of two easy ways: <br />
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1) Visit my secure donation page: <a href="http://www.active.com/donate/2008miles" target="_blank">2008 Miles of Hope donations</a><br />
2) Download a donation form and mail it with a check (made payable to Hope For The Warriors) to the address on the form: <a href="http://2008milesofhope.googlepages.com/Donationform.pdf" target="_blank">Donation form</a></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
<a href="http://www.hopeforthewarriors.org/" target="_blank">Hope For The Warriors</a> is a responsible charity<br />
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<div class="MsoNormal">Hope For the Warriors is Designated “Best in America” by the Independent Charities of America</div><div class="MsoNormal">Hope For the Warriors is Accredited by the Better Business Bureau’s Wise Giving Alliance</div></div><div class="MsoNormal"></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
<div style="color: #3d85c6;"><span style="font-size: large;"><i>Rocking and Rolling in Virginia Beach 9.5.2010</i></span></div></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
The summer of 2010 was blistering. Every time there was a break in the heat it was always too brief and too small of a break to cool down enough to do any good. I shifted my work schedule to go in to work an hour later and started using the extra hour in the AM to do a 10K workout in the neighborhood. That has been the majority of my training during the warmer months.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
At work, a group of runners started doing some running on Saturday mornings. Some of the runners are going to do the Marine Corps Marathon in October. In April we ran the <a href="http://www.hopeforthewarriors.org/r4w.html" target="_blank">Run For The Warriors</a> in Jacksonville, NC. This year it was the 5<sup>th</sup> anniversary event and it did not disappoint. It featured a half marathon for the first time and the whole event was hugely successful. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
In July, my teammate and I took part in the Beaufort Road Race. While that race is guaranteed to be hot, it always seems that with a few pounds of ice hanging around my neck, I am able to crank out a respectable (for me) 10K. In recent weeks we have been getting more frequent cool nights. While the daytime highs have still been running up around 90 degrees, my AM 10Ks have become more productive (and bearable). Temperatures at Atlantic Beach have been running a little cooler making some distance rides possible with an early (sunrise) start.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
I felt pretty good going into the Rock ‘n’ Roll. You can always use more training, but for the opportunities I’ve had, I think I’ve made the most of them. This year, my teammate was running it for the second time. T- was joining us for her 5<sup>th</sup> running of the RnR Half. Other family members that normally join us were unable to be there as support crew this year, for various reasons. It all went well nonetheless.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
Saturday before the race we visited the Dismal Swamp Trail for a training run. I did sixteen miles out and back. My Teammate did a 3 mile run and hopped on her bike and rode out to join me. I was nailing some 7-minute miles for about the first 5 or so then I ran out of shade. The heat started building up in me and from about mile 8 back it was pretty slow. So naturally the heat was the big thing that weighed on my mind for Sunday’s race.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
Saturday evening we met up with T- and her training partner M- and had a great pasta dinner at Federico’s restaurant in Virginia Beach. My teammate has made it clear on occasions that she’s not crazy about running. I think we both do it for the pasta. My problem is that a pasta dinner gives me a lot of energy—all night long. I tend to be wide awake the night before a race. At 0400, we got up, had a quick bite and headed downtown. As an athlete with a disability, I had a pass to park at the convention center. We were right at the starting line. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
We got me on my handbike and ready to go. I did a few laps in the parking lot and hare felt pretty good. I had my normal energy regimen before the race—a Snickers bar and a Powerade with an Advocare Spark. I was pumped and ready to roll.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
This year I opted to start with the other handcycles and wheelchairs up front with a ten minute head start. WHAT A DIFFERENCE that makes! In previous years I seeded into the corrals with T- or my teammate to run with them. This year, my teammate had progressed in her running to the point that I felt she was good to rock the beach on her own. It was a great feeling to get down the street without being bogged down on the downhills. I even made it to the top of the Rudee bridge before runners passed me. That meant I could power down the bridge as fast as I could go. Wow!</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
When the elite women passed in a tight little clump just south of the bridge, I moved over but soon I felt like I was holding back. I was on a slight downhill so I added some umph and soon I was drafting their little group. I still felt like I could go harder and soon I was passing the elite ladies. I said to myself, “This is stupid. You’re going to run out of gas and then you’ll be in their way.” Without the benefit of a draft or downhill, I muscled ahead far enough to move over and let them pass by again to be out of their way and to be off their mind.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
The early start meant that people were constantly passing me instead of the other way around. I’ve always said that it’s easier for runners to pass wheelers than for us to pass runners. The other thing that is nice about wheeling the front of the runners is that those folks don’t use ipods! What a joy to run with folks who can hear! The elite men passed just before I went into Camp Pendleton. The heat wasn’t yet vexing me and I was getting the water table volunteers to throw a cup into my face at each table. So far that kept me cool. The only trick was figuring out who has water and who had energy drinks. I didn’t want a Gatorade shower!</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
Just as I reached the bridge on my return leg, I met my teammate on her outbound leg. She was looking great! I was elated to know that she was going to nail a second half marathon. She won’t let me say her age, but she makes a clear example that it’s never too late to start running unless you wait until you can’t. Going down the bridge wasn’t the speed blast the outbound trip had been. There were too many people on the course with me by now and I don’t want to be the cause of spoiling the experience for any of them. My rule: Wheels yield to heels.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
The trip to the finish line was the fun part of the course where the crowds line the streets and the boardwalk. I upheld my “penguin” finish legacy with a fist in the air. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
My finish was 1:50; my teammates was 2:44, almost 15 minutes better than her previous; and T- knocked out hers in 2:50, a little off from last year. All in all a great day, no bike problems and we got ‘er done before the heat steam-rolled me.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
<div style="color: #3d85c6;"><span style="font-size: large;"><i>The Marine Corps Half Marathon 9.25.2010</i></span></div></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
The <a href="http://www.mccslejeune.com/grandprix/index.html" target="_blank">Marine Corps Half Marathon</a> has to be my favorite half marathon course. Many people confuse the name with the Marine Corps Historic Half in Fredricksburg VA, in May. This one is held at Camp Lejeune, NC. It’s part of the Marine Corps Grand Prix series of events. It’s not frilly. It’s not a big race in terms of attendance. But it’s like Goldilocks said, “This one fits me just right.” The base is scenic and the course winds through some of the best parts, including a long stretch with beautiful sweeping views of the New River and stretches that run long and straight through the golf course and through beautiful Carolina pine forests.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
For me it is always one of my faster races. It’s reasonably flat. Many of the Marines who take part have recently returned home from deployments and have been training in places where people shoot at them. Many spouses take part and many military and civilians alike run in memory of friends who didn’t make it home alive. For me and others, as well, it just seems you run faster when there are Marines chasing you.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
For my part, I had been in touch with RA, a wounded warrior who had recently started handcycling. His TBI induced a bit of vertigo that made it difficult to stand upright and run. The handbike was a great solution for him. I gave him a few race strategy tips about drafting and chasing and although it was his first race, he did quite well until a mis-adjusted derailleur caused him to throw a chain. Nonetheless, he had a great time and now he’s hooked too.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
My mentor, David Swaim was there, too. No doubt who won the wheelers division. BN was also there. I have done several races with him since the CC half in Feb. Combat Correspondent Cpl. Jo Jones took some great pictures and even <a href="http://www.marines.mil/unit/mcblejeune/Pages/100925-M-BASE-2360J-HANDCYCLING.aspx" target="_blank">published a nice piece about us</a>.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
<div style="color: #3d85c6;"><span style="font-size: large;"><i>Neuse River Bridge Run 10.16.2010</i></span></div></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
I’ve called this my year of almosts. I’ve almost reached each goal I’ve set. Finally, I think I found what’s been holding me back. Several days prior to the NRBR, Hare broke on me in a most noticeable manner. The coaster brake began to drag. When I think back, I think this is not new. I think it has been an off and on problem for months. The prior weekend when my teammate ran the Twin Bridges 8K, I opted to ride down Bogue Banks for a distance training ride. During several stretches, it seemed like Hare was holding me back painfully. Ironically, during my weekday morning 10Ks with Tortoise, it seems like my speeds were closing in on Hare’s with a 50 pound heavier bike. I took Hare to my local bike shop guy, at Bike Depot, and he heroically got the bike running again in time for the NRBR race. He did caveat his work by saying that he was only able to get things back together without it dragging. It wasn’t fixed; the brake needed to be replaced. I had been making all kinds of contingency plans, like using Tortoise in the race. Now I could go ahead and go with Hare. Yee ha!</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
This year the <a href="http://www.bridgerun.org/about/about.html" target="_blank">Neuse River Bridge Run</a> featured a half marathon. It featured the new Alfred Cunningham Bridge. Since the race starts and ends downtown New Bern, this year it crosses three bridges. This year also, four other members of Team Hope For The Warriors rolled across the starting line with me. My teammate was also out to run her third half.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
In the upcoming NYC Marathon I will be accompanied by guides provided by the Achilles Track Club. At the NRBR, I got a taste of guiding first-hand. As usual, I was the last place handbike finisher. But it was an amazing ride. Just past the start I came up on Matt Bradford and his guide. Matt is a blind double amputee that has handbiked the MCM last year and the New York Tunnel to Tower race. He was having a little difficulty coordinating with his guide so I volunteered to help out (if I could).</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
Matt may not have sight, but there is nothing wrong with his arms. I had trouble keeping up with Matt. That created a problem for Matt because when he got ahead of me, he didn't know I wasn't there. Everything was going OK until he got to the top of the bridge (actually I mostly chased Matt; his guide did most of the work). If you've ever ridden a bike on a busy highway, you know how noisy traffic can be. Now picture this. You're riding on that busy highway, with your eyes closed. The deafening roar of traffic zooming by you is unnerving. Your only guidance comes from your assistants yelling, "right, left, etc." You don't know how close those cars are. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
By the time the three of us got to Pembroke Road and got off the highway, about mile three, Matt's nerves were shot. He was ready to abort. I told him he could go left and continue on the half marathon or right and return on the 10K course. Either way I'd hang with him. If he wanted to abort and get a ride back, I was going on to finish the half. The rest of the course was mixed in residential traffic. The only coned-off area was a narrow area on the side of the street. We could not have guided him that accurately. The course was just not good for Matt and he eventually made the choice at about mile 3 that he would DNF. Though he couldn't see he had more vision than the rest. The course was just not right for him.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
Matt moved on over to a safe spot and waited for a pick-up. I went on. I hope he never felt like he failed. One of our toughest endeavors in life is to know your own limitations and then to find a way to excel within that envelope. Matt completed more in three miles than anyone else in the entire 13.1.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
About mile 4 through 8 I had an immense amount of difficulty cranking. The coaster brake acted up again and it began dragging. It was really bogging me down for a while and then it would go away, only to act up later. Most of the runners were gone by now. I was one of the last stragglers.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
My teammate was having a great run, on the other hand. She ended up with 2:26 finish, a PR, almost twenty minutes off her previous best, and a win in her age bracket. Way to go, teammate! A TV reporter did a very nice piece on Team Hope For The Warriors. <a href="http://www2.wnct.com/news/2010/oct/16/rolling-finish-wounded-warriors-ar-462243/" target="_blank">Watch it here</a>.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
<div style="color: #3d85c6;"><span style="font-size: large;"><i>Tortoise takes one for the team: Back to Back Half Centuries 10.23-24.2010</i></span></div></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
By now I’m sweating the upcoming MCM. My bike shop guy was looking for the brake part I needed. Apparently Shimano doesn’t make it anymore. The only option left was to tear down Tortoise and take its hub and use it to rebuild the wheel on Hare. By Friday, 10.22.2010, another bike shop guy that I was new to had rebuilt Hare’s drive wheel using Tortoise’s hub. I also ordered a new 8 speed hub for Tortoise. It would be in Monday.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
Saturday, 10.22.2010, I set out to ride hard and long. My objective was to ride 50 miles or so to prove to myself I was ready for two hilly Marathons on back-to-back weekends. I set forth a fueling strategy of around 100 calories per hour to keep away the bonking problems I had suffered so frequently during the summer.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
All I can say is it felt great. I had as much energy the last ten miles as I did the first ten. The hub transplant from Tortoise made Hare a new machine. I felt great. Now, can I repeat it?</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
The following Sunday I set up a tougher course profile for myself. Although we got a late start, I got in 48 miles before it began getting too dark. I crossed the Atlantic Beach Bridge on the outbound leg. I traveled to Fort Macon and then to Emerald Isle and back. While we were riding at EI, One Leg Dan passed us and stopped to greet us. He got out his stand-up bike, clipped his prosthesis into this pedal and he rode with us for five miles or so. That was an inspiration! We rode on back to Atlantic Beach and there, I cranked Hare up my test hill. I call it Mt. Suribachi because it is the same grade as the final hill in the MCM: 14%. There was not a problem with me nor Hare. We rode back across the AB Bridge and though I was two miles short of my goal of 50, it was dark. There was no doubt in my mind I could go another twenty. So, am I ready?<br />
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<div style="color: #3d85c6;"><i><span style="font-size: large;">Another 2008 Miles of Hope</span></i></div><br />
This year my goals in support of Hope For The Warriors are again three:<br />
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1) Hope: The Marine Corps Marathon, The New York City Marathon, and the OBX Marathon; two and a half marathons in fifteen days again this year. Watch for my MCM 2010 race report to be posted soon.<br />
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2) Inspiration: Handbiking over 2008 miles in racing, training, and fundraising events to raise money for and awareness of the needs of wounded warriors and their families.<br />
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3) A Promise: Complete my fundraising goal of $26,200 in donations benefiting Hope For The Warriors.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
And yes, I'm ready!<br />
LetsRoll!</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
-Be careful who you inspire; inspiration is contagious!</div>LetsRollhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02704108831138764554noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1195166657047014867.post-26027121651852499582010-05-10T13:50:00.000-07:002010-05-10T13:50:29.901-07:00Sooooo Close!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><br />
<span style="color: #3d85c6; font-size: large;"><i>Shamrock Marathon 03.21.2010</i></span><br />
Sunday morning I commented to my teammate that I don’t think we have ever been more ready for a race than we were for this one. I had gotten in some good workouts in the past week. We had a nice pasta dinner the night before with my friend David Swaim. Our spirits were bouyed by great runs in the 8K on Saturday. The weather had held up to the forecasts so we had brought the right clothes. And most importantly, I don’t think we forgot anything.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi32FxupgGW7j0-si6brIPkMnnXMLG3rJkq5RUL9csr0K4UFYxLOg3geiQbq6Ecvawgl6MbJ1QRQXAGyUNRZGrXBxsDYWBFdu8qmwE9IojpVagsd0sPsXEIAm7r9NsRjxFQJtbVyK_AZD_E/s1600/DSC_6001.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi32FxupgGW7j0-si6brIPkMnnXMLG3rJkq5RUL9csr0K4UFYxLOg3geiQbq6Ecvawgl6MbJ1QRQXAGyUNRZGrXBxsDYWBFdu8qmwE9IojpVagsd0sPsXEIAm7r9NsRjxFQJtbVyK_AZD_E/s320/DSC_6001.JPG" tt="true" width="320" /></a></div><br />
We stayed in a hotel only a few blocks from the starting line. When we checked in they offered us a free room upgrade as priority reward members. I declined because we had reserved one of their few rooms with a wheelchair shower. When my teammate checked out our room, it turned out they had assigned us a room without the roll-in shower. The only roll-in they had left was a suite that had to be the most spacious in the building. The room spanned the entire end of the building and overlooked the ocean from a balcony. So we got a free upgrade anyway!<br />
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At about 7:30 or so Sunday morning I made my way to the starting line. There was David Swaim. He must sleep at the starting line. I’ve never been to a race early enough to beat him to the start. There was also B- whom I recently met at the Crystal Coast Half. He lives in my county and is an avid handcyclist. Small world. Including a young man I met the day before at our hotel there would be four handcyclists, a Team Hoyt runner, AND a blind runner..<br />
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Beating 4 hours was my goal. I’ve done it twice but the last time was more than a year ago. I was feeling up to the challenge.<br />
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The weather was slightly chilly at that time of the day but otherwise absolutely perfect. I had added an extra shirt at the last minute. I somehow knew that would be too much. There was a slight headwind when we started the race. The others were gone in a flash when we started south through downtown Virginia Beach. At the Rudee Inlet Bridge, the runners had already overtaken me and Charlie stopped to wish me luck.<br />
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All the runners were taking the left lane. That made the right lane open for me. That was a good thing on the downhill side. It was not going to be a good thing in a few minutes when the faster handcyclists returned and needed the lane full of runners for their return. <br />
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I made my out and back through Camp Pendleton in an OK time at least to beat the 4 hour benchmark I had set for myself. The runners were great with their support and so far only a few iPod zombies wouldn’t get out of the way. The other handcyclists were having bigger problems, however.<br />
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On their return to the Rudee Bridge, the entire lane closest to the ocean was filled with outbound runners who were supposed to be in the lane on their right. Despite his shouts of warning, David collided with one runner and he wiped out, leaving a layer of his skin on the pavement. Despite his disaster, he went on to win the crank division.<br />
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I, on the other hand, continued my grind northward to defend my last-place crank division title. The extra layer I had donned just before the start was starting to make me a bit warm as the sun got a little higher. <br />
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The “slight” headwind at the start had freshened to a nice breeze behind me as I headed north along the Boardwalk. One of the spectators with a camera in front of his face called my name as I passed. I didn’t pay much attention since our names were on our bib numbers. Turned out he was a coworker from my office and neither of us knew to expect each other.<br />
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I saw my teammate with her bicycle along the Boardwalk where she snapped a few pictures. I met her again just before mile 13 where she helped me come out of a few layers to cool down. I refueled with a Snickers and an energy drink and got back in the race. At the half, my time was about 1:57. My 4 hour goal was still in my grasp.<br />
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The northbound lane to Fort Story was congested as all the outbound runners were squeezed into one lane and the elite marathoners and the slower half-marathoners mixed it up in the other lane. Once past the Fort Story main gate the congestion eased up along Shore Drive. However the many curves with their cross-grade bogged me down somewhat. Through this stretch, all the runners offered each other good support. A few DJs played music from their vehicles WAY too loud.<br />
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Once in Fort Story at the north gate I expected things to pick up. It was not to happen. I was beginning to get tired and the “breeze” I had enjoyed on the Boardwalk was now about a 20-25 mph headwind. At the main gate I was able to rendezvous with my teammate and refuel again with a Gu and a Red Bull. For the rest of the course back to the finish my pace slowly eroded as several pace groups passed me. <br />
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I got a little burst of speed toward the end and started making up some time during the last mile. I knew it was getting toward 4 hours. I drafted some runners to get some relief from the windy blast on the Boardwalk. <br />
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I finished with an official time of 4:00:47, successfully defending my last place crankchair title. I honestly don’t know where I would have made up the 47 seconds unless I had started out without the extra shirt or if I had drafted some of the runners along the return stretch. On the bright side, I finished 30th among 140 Whalers. All in all it was a good race, a good day, and my Shamrock PR. <br />
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For anyone wishing to do the Shamrock, it’s a good run, mostly flat. It’s a good course for wheelers. They offer good schwag (although I’ve never gotten any Irish stew at the end because you have to go down to the beach to get it). The caps they give the finishers are nice trophies you can wear year round. This year they had a great idea of giving the finishers a long-sleeve t-shirt you can actually wear and keep instead of the space blankets that end up discarded on the streets.<br />
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<div style="color: #3d85c6;"><i><span style="font-size: large;">Hope For The Warriors</span></i></div><br />
If you have followed this blog you know that I raise money for <a href="http://www.hopeforthewarriors.org/">Hope For The Warriors</a> as a charity runner. This year, the Shamrock is the first marathon I completed of five I had planned this year. I became too sick to start the Miami and the Myrtle Beach was canceled due to snow. I plan to complete the Marine Corps Marathon and the New York City Marathon this fall.<br />
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Hope For The Warriors was founded by a handful of eastern North Carolina military spouses with the vision to provide a measure of hope for the wounded victims of the post-9-11 wars; hope beyond recovery, particularly for the severely disabled. Their cause has grown to national proportions in the past few years as they have provided aid and relief to service men and women and their families in terms of Direct Needs, Warrior Wishes, Caregiver Scholarships, Hope and Morale and many other inspiring programs. Download and read the inspiring accomplishments from last year alone:<br />
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<a href="http://www.hopeforthewarriors.org/pdfs/4Seasons2009r.pdf">4 Seasons of Hope</a><br />
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<div style="color: #3d85c6;"><i><span style="font-size: large;">Hope, Inspiration, and a Promise</span></i></div><br />
I call my fundraising campaign <a href="http://www.active.com/donate/2008miles">2008 Miles of Hope</a>. It’s an honor for me to dedicate my training and my races to the brave men and women who have sacrificed in the name of our freedom. Join me and follow this blog as I fulfill my three goals I call Hope, Inspiration and a Promise.<br />
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1. Hope:<br />
I plan to complete the Marine Corps Marathon as part of <a href="http://www.hopeforthewarriors.org/mcm2010.html">Team Hope For the Warriors</a> for my third straight year.<br />
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2. Inspiration:<br />
Also for the third straight year, I plan to handcycle over 2008 miles in training, races, and fundraising events to raise awareness of, and money for Hope For The Warriors and their mission.<br />
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3. A Promise:<br />
I plan to fulfill my pledge to raise $26,200 ($1,000 for every mile in a marathon) for Hope For The Warriors. This is where you can join me.<br />
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Join me and thousands of other grateful Americans by honoring our wounded warriors with a tax-deductible donation to Hope For The Warriors. You have two easy ways to donate. If you prefer to use a credit card, you can donate online using my secure donation page at<br />
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<a href="http://www.active.com/donate/2008miles">2008 Miles of Hope</a><br />
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If you prefer to write a check, download a donation form and mail your donation to the address on the form. <br />
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<a href="http://2008milesofhope.googlepages.com/Donationform.pdf">Donation Form</a><br />
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Learn more about Hope For The Warriors at <a href="http://www.hopeforthewarriors.org/">http://www.hopeforthewarriors.org/</a>.<br />
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And join us at the <a href="http://5thannualrunforthewarriors.kintera.org/">5th Annual Run For The Warriors</a> May 15, 2010, in Jacksonville, NC.<br />
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-LetsRoll!LetsRollhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02704108831138764554noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1195166657047014867.post-17590161522751842202010-03-20T13:20:00.000-07:002010-03-20T17:22:50.725-07:00The Luck of the Irish--Did I Break the Spell?<div style="color: #3d85c6;"><i><span style="font-size: large;">Shamrock 8K</span></i></div><br />
I've been trying to break that elusive 4 hour marathon mark for months. A few training rides have been promising. At Miami I DNSed when I got sick. Afterwards I really got my hopes up for Myrtle Beach when I beat 4 hours on a training ride<br />
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But at Myrtle Beach, it was not to be. The marathon was canceled because of snow. At the Crystal Coast Half I was still under the weather with my 'Miami bug' but determined not to make it three scratches in a row. It was a lackluster job and my most painful event yet.<br />
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My training schedule has still been difficult but again, I've been seeing some promise for the Shamrock. I signed up for the Whale. Today I PRed with a 36:05 in the 8K. My teammate turned in a good time as well but accidentally creased her chip and didn't get timed. The weather was perfect. It looks like tomorrow it will be great for the marathon as well.<br />
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Keep your fingers crossed!<br />
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And make a donation to Hope For The Warriors!<br />
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-LetsRoll!LetsRollhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02704108831138764554noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1195166657047014867.post-91859224431360034492010-02-13T19:58:00.000-08:002010-02-13T19:58:23.702-08:000 for 2 in 2010: I’m jinxed<div style="color: #3d85c6;"><i><span style="font-size: large;">Miami Marathon, 01.31.2010</span></i></div>THINGS, e.g., work, weather, and lots of chores I’m behind on, have really been hampering my training. The weather, particularly, has been horrendous. A few weeks back I got an indoor trainer to take the weather out the problem. The trainer itself could be better, but it is good for a quick hour before bedtime. I’ve been using tortoise more, too since I don’t have to transfer, that saves time, too. I’ve just not riding hare a lot.<br />
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That means not much time on Hare and not many bridge workouts. Long rides over at the beach on hare have been brutally slow. All in all I have pretty bummed about training but all that was just starting to turn a corner.<br />
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The good news is that I was starting to make some real progress w/ Tortoise. Including some 10K PRs using Tortoise. I was getting a glimmer of hope I could do a sub-4 hr at Miami. <br />
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That was not to be the case. Saturday before the race I rode Tortoise and my teammate rode her bike over the Venetian Causeway to the expo. Later we got in the van and reconned the course route. We got the tires on Hare pumped up, ate a quick bite, and got to bed reasonably early.<br />
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At 2AM race morning I woke up with a fever, chills, and nausea. I took some Tylenol and tried to go back to sleep. At 3 AM I woke again. There would be no marathon for me today. I was afraid I would regret my decision to DNS. I was really sick though.<br />
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After Miami we went to Jax for a conference for work. All week I was still sick. After the conference I wasn’t sure I was well enough, but I HAD to get a LONG workout. We went to the Jacksonville-Baldwin Trail for a 29-mile ride. I figured I would just do what I could and turn around after the first puking.<br />
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First mile felt pretty good, but then, I was holding back. I found it wasn’t too hard to go 7 MPH so I tried to set that for my pace. I kept expecting to go dead but it didn’t happen. I made my target pace at the 14 mi turnaround in 2 hours. I was pretty happy, but then I started to drag. I stopped and drank my energy drink and got going again. Going back I was surprised again that my strength was still holding up.<br />
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My 26.2 time turned out to be 3:40! I haven’t seen that in over a year. So I got in my marathon. And my sub-4. On my birthday.<br />
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<div style="color: #3d85c6;"><i><span style="font-size: large;">Myrtle Beach Marathon 02.13.2010</span></i></div>Two weeks later we’re in Myrtle Beach. The weather forecasts for the past week have been great: mid-40’s, light winds and sunny. Toward Thursday the weather-guessers began using the four-letter s-word in earnest. Friday my teammate and I put in a 10-mile ride along Grissom Boulevard. There was not much sun, the winds were light, and I felt like I might have a chance on Saturday for a sub-4. The course had some changes this year but it is still basically flat. <br />
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Friday evening my teammate ran the 5K. Snow started falling at the start of her race and by the time she finished, it was pouring a mix of rain and snow. Teammate finished 4th in her age bracket. You go girl!<br />
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By the time we got back to the motel, it was all snow. I heard it was Myrtle Beach’s first snow since the 100-year storm in 1989. In fact every state except Hawaii had snow on the ground. This was an exceptional event. <br />
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The race directors made the decision to delay the marathon and half marathon start until 7 AM. The City officials decided to have a meeting at 10 PM so they could cancel the race. At 10 PM they had their meeting and announced that they were canceling the event because the course was not closed to vehicle traffic and it would not be safe for runners. Most runners, particularly those from out of town were unhappy with the decision. A delay until 8 AM would probably been adequate, but then, these are town officials with little experience with snow.<br />
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So for 2010, I’m 0 for 2. In a few weeks I will do the Crystal Coast Half. If tradition prevails, it will rain. For now, my best hope for a sub-4 marathon will the Shamrock. Keep your fingers crossed.<br />
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<div style="color: #3d85c6;"><i><span style="font-size: large;">Make a Difference</span></i></div>As of Myrtle Beach weekend, our fundraising is just short of $23,000 toward our goal of $26,200, or $1,000 for every mile in a marathon. Our fundraising benefits Hope For The Warriors™. Hope For The Warriors has made great and meaningful differences in the lives of our Nation’s wounded service men and women and their families. You can make a difference too with your tax-deductible donation. Please visit my secure website to make a donation by credit card.<br />
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<a href="http://www.active.com/donate/2008miles">2008 Miles of Hope</a><br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal">If you prefer to write a check, download a donation form and mail it to us at the address provided on the form.<br />
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<a href="http://2008milesofhope.googlepages.com/Donationform.pdf">Donation Form </a><br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal">Also visit the <a href="http://www.hopeforthewarriors.org/">Hope For The Warriors™</a> website to learn more about their promise, “No sacrifice forgotten, nor need unmet.”<br />
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</div><a href="http://www.hopeforthewarriors.org/">Hope For The Warriors™</a><br />
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-LetsRoll!LetsRollhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02704108831138764554noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1195166657047014867.post-50442083854419611532009-11-14T16:27:00.000-08:002010-01-06T06:33:59.940-08:002 ½ Marathons in 15 Days—Part 311.8.2009 OBX Half Marathon<br />
<i><a href="http://2008milesofhope.blogspot.com/2009/11/2-marathons-in-15-dayspart-1.html">See part 1</a></i><br />
<div style="color: black;"><a href="http://2008milesofhope.blogspot.com/2009/11/2-12-marathons-in-15-days.html"><i>Se</i><i>e Part 2</i></a><br />
<div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div>The final leg of my 2 ½ Marathons in fifteen days was the OBX (Outer Banks, NC) Half Marathon. The event this year offered a full marathon, a half, and an 8K. The Marathon and the half are both point-to-points starting at Kitty Hawk and Kill Devil Hills, respectively. Both races finish up at the village of Manteo. The 8K is an out-and-back, mostly off-road, in Kitty Hawk. I did the half because part of the full marathon is off-road. My teammate did the 8K.<br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal">The race is a great excuse to go visit the Outer Banks beaches with their rich history of colonialism, piracy, and fishing. The races visit the site of man’s first powered flight at Kitty Hawk, the Jockey’s Ridge sand dune, and the Elizabethan village of Manteo on Roanoke Island, home of the Lost Colony. <br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="color: #3d85c6;"><i><span style="font-size: large;">Warmup</span></i><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">My teammate’s 8K was Saturday. My half was Sunday. We traveled on Friday. The trip gave me the opportunity to put in a training ride on Friday on Ocracoke Island.<br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal">Ocracoke is one of my favorite rides. The island is 14 miles long and shaped like a hockey stick.<br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal">With the Atlantic Ocean on one side and the Pamlico Sound on the other, Ocracoke is a beautiful coastal ride.<br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal">As and added treat, I discovered that the State had widened the highway for bicycles and was in the process of adding a paved multi-use path that looked to be about 4 miles long. I’ll have to start visiting Ocracoke more often.<br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal">On Friday evening we picked up our “booty” (the theme of the OBX is pirates) at the expo. It was getting late and we couldn’t decide where to eat. We ended up making the BIG mistake of forgoing the many nice restaurants and eating at Pizza Hut. <br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal"><i style="color: #3d85c6;"><span style="font-size: large;">Teammate Wins Again! </span></i><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Saturday we got up early and went to the 8K. My teammate’s training has been hampered (as has mine) by all the travel lately. She was a bit apprehensive. As she ran in the cool low 50s temperatures, I sat in our van and worked on my computer. I was preparing my NYC blog post. After about 25 minutes I could see the Kenyans flying back in. My plan was to wheel over to the finish area to see my teammate’s finish. <br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal">As I was writing my blog post about how great the NYC spectators were, I could see dozens of runners coming in. I said to myself, “They need some cheering!” In fact I saw only one girl cheering at this stretch of the course. I paused my blogging and rolled over to pitch in. The runners seemed genuinely happy to have some attention, judging by the smiles. I guess you can say the NYC crowds have changed me.<br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal">My teammate finished third in her bracket! You go, girl! The 8K featured a nice awards ceremony and post-race party at the Outer Banks Brewing Station. The elites received their awards early then ran with the kids in the fun run. I thought that was a nice touch.<br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal">Saturday afternoon I got in a recon ride/workout on the course. Despite my two marathons the previous two weekends, I felt like I was out of shape. September and October have been highly unproductive training months for me. I’ve noticed in the past that when I feel out of shape, if I can get in two good workouts on the two days prior to a race, I can perform better at the race. I say, “The first day I cry, the second day I die, and the third day I fly.” <br />
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The course predominately follows Hwy 158, the main highway through Nags Head, Kill Devil Hills, and Kitty Hawk. It passes in front of Jockey’s Ridge, the largest sand dune in the eastern US; loops through a couple of neighborhoods; crosses the Washington-Baum Bridge; and finishes at downtown Manteo. <br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal">Saturday I didn’t feel like I would die. Nor did I expect to fly.<br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal">But maybe I could set a new world record for the number of skateboarders towed by a handcycle. Whenever I see kids they universally say, “That bike is awesome!” or, “That is cool!”<br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal"><i><span style="color: #3d85c6; font-size: large;">A Day at the Beach</span></i> <br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal">My workout told me to expect a finish time slightly over 2 hours. On race day I actually did it in 1:59. Sadly, my string of “dead last place” wheeler finishes was broken when another wheeler arrived late at the start and posted a 3+ hour half.<br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal">The race was fun. The weather Sunday was perfect. The event coordinators provided two bicycle escorts , B- and C-, to ride with me.<br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i><span style="color: #3d85c6;">Photo by Triduo.com</span><br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal">We got a chance to work some minor grades prior to crossing the big bridge. Unfortunately it always seems to be the folks in the latter part of the race that obliviously want to endanger themselves and others by deafening themselves with iPods.<br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal">At this race, the starter warned the runners to stay right on the bridge. The starter warned the runners in detail about the wheelers’ speeds on the bridge. The bicycle escorts blew (loud) whistles all the way down the bridge to get the iPodders’ attention. The starter warned the runners what the whistles meant. The escorts and I warned the runners that passed us on the ascent to stay right on the downhill. And still there were a few oblivious iPodders that wouldn’t get out of the way. <br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal">About halfway down, the bicyclists started getting bogged down by the zombies. Just before nearly colliding with B-, I checked my mirror and saw no vehicles back to the top of the bridge. After hitting a traffic cone or two, I swerved into the traffic lane and went on by. Folks, IF you can’t break your iPod addiction for the duration of a race, AT LEAST turn the volume down so you can hear someone right on your six screaming at you at the top of their lungs!<br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal">At about mile 12.5 a runner wasn’t responding when we were trying to pass him. B- tapped him on the shoulder to get his attention. He staggered like he was going to fall over. I asked C-, who had ridden beside me most of the course, to stay with him until he could get some aid. I passed a deputy a few seconds later and told him that a runner needed some help. Later when I saw C-, she told me the runner departed in an ambulance.<br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal">At the finish, I somehow managed to get up a little speed in the chute with no runners in front of me. I looked around and saw about a half dozen cameras pointed at me. I couldn’t resist hamming it up a little. I leaned back and threw both arms in the air in a triumphant V. What the heck. 2 ½ marathons in fifteen days. I earned it.<br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://lh5.ggpht.com/_o04yXF_g1C0/Sv4X3jLgFWI/AAAAAAAACwE/XT9G8Xws_vY/s1600/1774-21005-9867-RBI.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://lh5.ggpht.com/_o04yXF_g1C0/Sv4X3jLgFWI/AAAAAAAACwE/XT9G8Xws_vY/s400/1774-21005-9867-RBI.JPG" /></a><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i><span style="color: #3d85c6;">Photo by Triduo.com</span></i></span><br />
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Also enjoy the News-Times feature:<span style="font-size: small;"> <a href="http://www.carteretnewstimes.com/articles/2009/11/14/news-times/sports/doc4afd9a170f668872909870.txt">Kelly on a roll for wounded warriors</a></span><br />
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<i style="color: #3d85c6;"><span style="font-size: large;">I do this because I can</span></i> <br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">2008 Miles of Hope is a fundraising campaign to benefit Hope For The Warriors™. I handcycle in10Ks, ten-milers, half marathons and full marathons to raise money for their programs to aid the severely wounded service members from the Iraq and Afghanistan wars. <br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal">I am not a warrior. I am a grateful beneficiary of their sacrifices. I do this out of a debt of gratitude I feel for their sacrifices while protecting our freedom.<br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal">2008 Miles of Hope is also a journey of Hope, Inspiration, and a Promise. My goal of Hope this year was to complete 2 ½ Marathons in 15 days. You have just read the completion of the final leg of that goal. <br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal">My goal of Inspiration was to complete another 2008 miles this year to raise money for and awareness the needs of wounded warriors and their families. I completed that goal on October 25, 2009, when I crossed the finish line of the Marine Corps Marathon.<br />
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My Promise, or my financial goal, is to raise $26,200 for Hope For The Warriors™, or $1,000 for every mile in a marathon. You may help with that goal with your tax-deductible donation. Please visit my secure website to make a donation by credit card.<br />
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</div><a href="http://www.active.com/donate/2008miles">2008 Miles of Hope</a><br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal">If you prefer to write a check, download a donation form and mail it to us at the address provided on the form.<br />
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<a href="http://2008milesofhope.googlepages.com/Donationform.pdf">Donation Form </a><br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal">Also visit the <a href="http://www.hopeforthewarriors.org/">Hope For The Warriors™</a> website to learn more about their promise, “No sacrifice forgotten, nor need unmet.”<br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal"><a href="http://www.hopeforthewarriors.org/">Hope For The Warriors™</a><br />
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</div>Enjoy being free.<br />
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-LetsRoll! <br />
</div>LetsRollhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02704108831138764554noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1195166657047014867.post-47862609319891401722009-11-14T15:53:00.000-08:002012-07-27T15:13:26.068-07:002 ½ Marathons in 15 Days—Part 2<div style="color: #3d85c6;">
<i><span style="font-size: large;">11.1.2009 NYC Marathon</span></i></div>
<i><a href="http://2008milesofhope.blogspot.com/2009/11/2-marathons-in-15-dayspart-1.html">See part 1</a></i><br />
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Last year I approached Achilles Track Club about participating in the New York City Marathon. Achilles gets all of the handcycle seeds from the New York Roadrunners. I tell people in jest that NY is heavily unionized and hence Achilles is like the handcycle union for the NYC Marathon. To be fair, this great organization does much to promote the mainstreaming of disabled athletes into world-class events. For the NYC they coordinate a ton of logistics and pre-race planning to make the event accessible to individuals like myself. It takes an organization with insight into the needs of those with disabilities to manage those details. Most race directors are clueless when accommodating the disabled and Achilles does a fine job of making it happen for NYC and other races.<br />
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In July I received my registration from Achilles. I was elated. My teammate was not. NYC was going to be a difficult race physically and logistically. And it was going to follow MCM by only seven days. The simple fact that it is a point-to-point race complicates issues such as transportation, parking, transfers from the wheelchair, etc., in ways that the average person would never understand. Then, too, there’s the issue that I’m a high quad and I have more unique needs than other athletes. I call myself the “problem child.” I had put my faith in Achilles. My teammate worried.<br />
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<i style="color: #3d85c6;"><span style="font-size: large;">Apprehension</span></i><br />
In August, we drove to NY to recon the course. Achilles could handle the logistics. I had to handle to hills. We planned to ride the course and do a workout in Central Park for a “wheels on the ground” feel of the course. If my teammate was apprehensive after the outset, after the NY trip, I began to worry. I told folks that there were 5 boroughs, five bridges, and five thousand potholes. The significance of those potholes can’t be understated as they can trip a runner, destroy a fragile wheelchair wheel, or deflect a chair into the path of a runner. I also joked that the Wilson Avenue Bridge was paved by the guy that landscaped the moon. My friend C- told me a horror story about doing a face plant on the metal grate surface of the bridge that didn’t bolster my confidence either. And then there was the issue of maneuvering down the hills amidst 40,000 runners. If you read this blog, you will know that despite my cynicism, my philosophy is to tackle the difficult with all the resources I have, confident that I will find a way to overcome the seemingly impossible.<br />
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<i style="color: #3d85c6;"><span style="font-size: large;">On The Town</span></i><br />
On Friday we arrived in New York, hurriedly unpacked, and worked out an “understanding” with the hotel personnel of where to park my oversized van. I would need its scooter lift race morning for the ritual of transferring onto my handbike. We had a great pasta dinner at <a href="http://www.salutenyc.com/">Salute</a> at the recommendation of the hotel clerk. Fortunately, we got to bed early.<br />
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Saturday AM we got up early and did a pre-race mini-marathon around town. Using my wheelchair-attached handbike I call “Tortoise,” we set out across town from East Mid-Town to the Hell’s Kitchen area for the Expo. The expo was busy, not to mention the largest one I’ve ever attended.<br />
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Achilles offered to provide me with “guide runners” to help me with moving through the congestion of runners, a big problem for me at the MCM. I didn’t know what to think but with all the stories I had heard of the congestion on the NYC course, I could foresee some real advantages. Little did I realize at the time what a great experience it would turn out to be. The guides and I had emailed each other in the weeks prior and agreed to meet at the expo Saturday AM. The two guides, A-, and G-, were both delightful individuals.<br />
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I think we all knew right away we were going to hit it off. I happened into a third guide, AX- who was asking Achilles if they had needs for additional guides. It seemed to me there was room for a third guide in our little team. I suggested it to the Achilles official, she agreed, and there we had it. There would be four of us running together. We met A-’s mom who was a race volunteer and was handing out T-shirts. She had already organized half a dozen or so cheering and support squads throughout the course for A- and several other family and friends.<br />
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We ended up spending so much time getting to know each other and discussing logistics with Achilles that we ended up getting away at noon without buying a thing. We had to beat it to upper Mid-Town on the East Side for a meet-and-greet with Hope For The Warriors. Tina had asked me to speak to the NYC team of runner-fundraisers. It was about 25 blocks away and we had an hour to get there by sidewalk. We trekked across town; my teammate afoot, and I, cranking Tortoise on the second leg of my Saturday mini-marathon around town.<br />
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The function with <a href="http://www.hopeforthewarriors.org/index.html">Hope For The Warriors</a> was great. Chris, one of the wounded warrior guides for team Bradford spoke a little about how he and the other guides had trained with LCpl Bradford for the MCM. LCpl Bradford is a blind double amputee who cranked a handcycle through the entire MCM. Yes, you read that correctly. He was guided by three other wounded warriors on handcycles who shouted voice directions to him.<br />
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The NYC team raised about $118,000. Over half came from two teammates who did a fundraising event at a NY night club. My little talk didn’t go that well. Much of the material I intended to use in my speech was already covered by other speakers and I’m not that good at changing a speech on the fly.<br />
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Afterward it was back over to Restaurant Row via tortoise to join G-, her husband, and family for dinner at <a href="http://www.becco-nyc.com/">Becco</a>. Again, we had a great pasta dinner consisting of pumpkin ravioli, spaghetti w/ pesto, and tortellini and shrimp in a tomato cream and basil sauce. I have to say the pasta is one of the best parts of a marathon. Becco was actually plan B if the NYC pasta party wasn’t do-able. A- and a friend ate at the pasta patry, we opted out because of the threat of rain. Lucky choice. Our dinner was great. A- said the pasta party wasn’t all that good. We wrapped up our busy day by hiking back to East Mid Town to our hotel.<br />
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<i style="color: #3d85c6;"><span style="font-size: large;">Rain, Rain, Go Away!</span></i><br />
Sunday morning we were up at 3:30 AM. Friday night’s sleep had been full of fits and jerks as I think my metabolism was stoked up and trying to burn up all the pasta I had eaten. Saturday night I slept like a log. I woke up 5 minutes before the alarm went off.<br />
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The forecast had changed numerous times from perfect weather to monsoons. Before going to bed it looked like the rain would pass early in the night and the sun would come out Sunday during the race. I had set out shorts and my Achilles t-shirt. I planned to wear leg warmers and a jacket until the start. A quick weather check changed all those plans. The radar showed rain everywhere. Instead, I wore rain pants (a base layer would have been nice) and the Achilles t-shirt under a raincoat. We had brought breakfast items back to the room on Friday so I threw down a muffin, coffee, and OJ. I carried a banana with me and planned to eat it on the bus, along with my usual Snickers and energy drink about 40 minutes prior to the start. In retrospect, I should have considered more carefully that it was going to be five hours before I started the race.<br />
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My usual fuel plan is a BIG breakfast, Snickers and energy drink 30-40 minutes prior, and meet my teammate for a Snickers and energy drink again at the halfway point. Because of the locations of subway stops and the fact that I didn’t want to lose my teammate in the subway and the halfway point was on the Pulaski bridge, I made some last-minute changes to my fuel strategy that were going to prove disastrous.<br />
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At that point, however, my worry list was preoccupied with my tires, potholes, and the Verazanno-Narrows Bridge. I had over 6400 miles logged and never a flat tire. I recently replace all three tires to have good rubber for my fall races. Within the last three weeks I had ruptured three tubes and had one tire go bad. One tube blew a bubble out from under the bead of the tire and ruptured during a race. Miraculously, the air pressure pinched off the tube to hold air until the end of the race. One tire had become defective the night before the MCM. My bike shop guy said, “Just ride on them and forget about it. You’ve done everything you can do.” I carried a tire, two tubes and a change kit with me nonetheless. I couldn’t do anything about potholes, nor the V-N bridge.<br />
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<i style="color: #3d85c6;"><span style="font-size: large;">Getting to the Start--No Small Feat</span></i><br />
My teammate got me loaded onto my bike. I was on schedule. The drizzle was bearable. The temperature would be right for runners. Not ideal weather but compared to what was on the radar, we were LUCKY. The rain was supposed to be gone by start time.<br />
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I met my guide runners, A-, G-, and AX- at the Athletes With Disabilities boarding area.<br />
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The AWD bus loading area was rehearsed chaos. The bus drivers knew exactly what to do. The NYC firemen did too. A-, G-, and AX- and I waited our turn to board the bus but like every bank teller line I’ve ever been in, it’s the wrong one.<br />
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Patience and good nature prevailed until the firemen literally picked up my bike with me seated in it and carried me on the bus. Once on the bus the anxiety began to ease.<br />
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For the time being our destiny was in someone else’s hands. You have to pause to appreciate the hard work and planning that Achilles puts into making this event accessible to people like me.<br />
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Darkness faded during the bus ride and so did any inhibitions we had between us. We had the chance to spend some time chatting and getting to know each other. We strategized a little about how we would tackle the uphills and how we would clear a path on the downhills. I feel like I couldn’t have asked for better guides. Our personalities clicked perfectly. We were through the forming, storming, and norming in minutes and ready to get our little team on the streets and start performing. As we approached the V-N Bridge, my worry list re-entered my mind. The bridge seemed steep. I knew it was high, but I didn’t think it would be steep.<br />
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The good thing about our late departure from the boarding area was that we weren’t waiting around at Fort Wadsworth. Some of the folks waiting around in the staging area looked a little bluish. The bad thing about the wait was that bladders were stressed by the time we got to the staging area.<br />
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<i style="color: #3d85c6;"><span style="font-size: large;">New Found Warmth</span></i> <br />
We didn’t wait very long before the AWDs were called to the starting line. The fast pushrim division had launched 25 minutes earlier. My guide runners helped me come out of my rain jacket. The drizzle was gone and the gaggle of handbikers, everyday wheelchair pushers, amputees, and other folks with all kinds of disabilities started their trek to the starting line. At this moment we experienced our first taste of the legendary warm New York hospitality. Many of the runners awaiting their start stood, nearly all applauded, and many shouted words of support.<br />
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I have to admit that I had different feelings before this race than afterward. When I asked others about this race, I heard three things universally. 1) It was crowded. That would mean trouble for me. 2) The wait in the staging area could be long and cold. I could see first-hand how that could be a real problem. 3) The New York spectators were the most supportive of any I would ever encounter.<br />
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I never thought the crowds would be important. I train on country roads frequently and am used to having to motivate myself to get through to my training goals. My independent attitude told me, “I can do just fine without cheering.” My attitude was rapidly changing.<br />
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The warmth and friendliness started at the expo with the Achilles volunteers. It extended through to my guides AND their families that I felt had “adopted” me and my teammate. The little things that I noticed throughout the race completely changed my mind by the finish. I like different things about different races. At the MCM I like the monuments and the scenery. At the Dismal Swamp Stomp, I enjoy the solitude of nature. At the Jax Bank Marathon, I like the shade trees. At NY, I like the crowds.<br />
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<i style="color: #3d85c6;"><span style="font-size: large;">LetsRoll!</span></i> <br />
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At 8:45 we rolled across our line of departure. The V-N Bridge loomed high into the sky before us. The closer tower of this expansive span actually leans towards us; the farther leaning away by several inches because of the curvature of the earth. The roadway arched so high into the air that it obscured most of our view of the east tower. I started out with my signature slow roll, cranking out a moderate cadence in my lower gears. G-, A-, and AX- walked along and we laughed and conversed as I took my familiar last place position amongst the handcyclists.<br />
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The grade was not as bad as I feared. Another item to check off my worry list. As we ascended the span we were all alone. We enjoyed a treat that few others ever experience. We took in the vast, breathtaking views of the New York Harbor, the NY skyline, and the Statue of Liberty. There were no runners and no traffic to abate our view. At my uphill pace, we had plenty of time to take it in. As we approached the crest of the span, I sent G- and A- ahead to make a path for me through the other AWDs who were ahead. AX- stayed back to assist another AWD just starting his descent.<br />
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<i style="color: #3d85c6;"><span style="font-size: large;">Warm Welcomes</span></i><br />
Unsure of the turns ahead, I held back on my speed coming down. I passed my guides at about 20 mph and cruised into Brooklyn. The first thing that greeted me was a big sign that said “Welcome to Brooklyn.” I remember that sign because, like the warmth of the crowds, it also made me feel not like a visitor, but like a guest. Immediately, as I turned onto 92th St., I felt that warmth that would persist throughout the race. Crowds had come out of their homes and lined the streets not just to watch, but to welcome us to their neighborhood.<br />
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Another treat awaited me in Brooklyn. NO POTHOLES! All the streets, I think throughout the entire course, were freshly paved! My tires were holding up great and my worry list was now the farthest thing from my mind. G- and A- caught me about a mile later and we traded the lead repeatedly as my speed varied from a 5-minute pace on the downhills to a 20-minute pace on the ascents. AX- had joined up later after guiding for the lone AWD coming down the bridge.<br />
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About mile six we were treated to another unique aspect of the course that few others enjoyed. While enjoying free run of the streets of Brooklyn, we were gifted with a prime view of some of the fastest women in the world as the elite females flew past. I even hit a little downhill stretch as they blew past, allowing me to pick up some speed and ride along for a block or so.<br />
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I met my teammate about that point and made a big mistake. She had a second Snickers bar that I wanted to carry to eat about halfway through the race. Through some miscommunication I left her without my crucial fuel. It was now about 10:00. I ate breakfast about six hours ago. I ate my pre-race snack almost two hours ago. I planned to refuel in about another seven miles. I should have been mindful of the time elapsed since last eating.<br />
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The elite men flashed by on the right. Again, we enjoyed a unique vantage point. Later, the sub-elite men passed. I dropped in behind the little pack of leaders and drafted them for a bit. Even the leaders yelled in support as they passed.<br />
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We continued at a about a 10:00 pace as the Brooklyners yelled at the top of their lungs. This marathon was fully underway by now. Even though the pack was thickening, I could still hear individual shouts of, “Go Paul,” and Go Achilles!” as we made our way up 4th Ave. G- and A- did their best to work up the spectators by motioning with their palms upward. It was unclear who was enjoying themselves the most.<br />
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At mile 8 we met the first cheering/aid station set up by A-’s family. Thinking I had my candy bar with me and thinking I could refuel any time, I made the unwise choice not to fuel up. I planned to gobble down the Snickers somewhere about the Pulaski Bridge. The three starting courses had converged and the runners were thick by now. It was difficult for my guides to stay with me on the downhills because the hills were so long that I got up a lot of speed. They were still catching me without any problem when I had to gear down for the uphill. In Bedford and Williamsburg the streets were narrower so the interaction with the spectators was even more personal. I still had no problems when I needed to pass runners because they were running fast.<br />
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Throughout the race, in every neighborhood, musicians, singers, dancers, bagpipers, and DJs entertained us.<br />
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Even those tied up indoors watched on TV.<br />
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Halloween was the previous night. Many runners wore costumes. This was clearly an event for every member of the city.<br />
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At mile 11 we met one of A-’s family’s cheering squads. A- handed me a power drink I had pre-positioned with his support team. He searched my basket to no avail for the Snickers I thought I carried.<br />
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<i style="color: #3d85c6;"><span style="font-size: large;">Trouble in Queens</span></i><br />
In the Greenpoint neighborhood, the course made a Z as it switched from Manhatten Ave. to Greenpoint Ave. to McGuiness Blvd. At the latter turn I got a glimpse up ahead of hay bales stacked on the outside corner of the street. I had heard stories of the hay bales from other wheelers so I knew that they had my name on them. I refrained from taking full advantage of the downhill on Greenpoint and took the inside of the turn to avoid embedding myself into the wall of hay. My passage through Greenpoint was successfully uneventful.<br />
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I don’t recall exactly how the events played out over the next two miles but I was nearing my normal refueling stop; halfway through the race. In retrospect, when I do the math, one thing is clear. It was time to eat something. I hadn’t eaten anything solid in 3 ¼ hours. Breakfast was 7 ¼ hours ago. By now G-, and A- were used to me leading and lagging them by distances of several blocks as I sped up and slowed down on the hills. I should have asked them to stay in closer as the field became more dense. We were all having too much fun and everything was going OK. At some point, A- offered me a goo but I turned it down. I had never used them before and wanted to stick with the fuel my body was used to.<br />
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I seem to remember G-, and A- walking up the top of the Pulaski Bridge with me and running ahead on the downhill. I remember asking if there was a turn at the bottom and G- said it was straight. Again, I went ahead through the path they made for me. They caught me later in Queens and went ahead when I slowed for a hill. At the Queensboro Bridge, the wheelers were diverted off on a separate route on the left. The diversion wasn’t obvious as you approached it. G-, A-, and AX- all missed it and ascended the bridge with the main field of the runners. I was routed under the bridge and took the bicycle/pedestrian lane over the bridge off the right side.<br />
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<i style="color: #3d85c6;"><span style="font-size: large;">Bonked!</span></i> <br />
I bonked almost immediately as I started up the bridge. It’s not a good feeling. I had plenty of strength but no energy. Off to the left the runners were thick as molasses in the eastbound traffic lane with the westbound lanes vacant between us. I would crank and stop and rest. I tried calling A- on my cell phone. No answer. I tried calling G-. I could hear her phone ring in my basket. I tried calling AX-. Success.<br />
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AX- was at the top of the bridge. He jumped across the barriers to the pedestrian lane and came back down the bridge to meet me. He searched fruitlessly for the Snickers bar I thought I carried. I called my teammate. Turns out the Snickers she thought I had was the one I had eaten before the start. Finally, I sucked down one of G-’s goos and got some instant relief. AX- walked up the bridge with me. I was better although I had lost about 30 minutes in my debacle. The significance of that was I was now going to be much farther back in a much denser field of runners.<br />
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One distinct memory I recall of the Queensboro Bridge was the eerie quiet. Since leaving the V-N Bridge we had been immersed in constant, deafening, crowd noise. On the bridge the only sound was the pitter patter of thousands of sneakers. One could hear a whisper.<br />
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I rolled down on the bridge ahead of AX- to 1st Ave. It was the last I would see AX-. He somehow managed to pass us in the latter miles of the race. He didn’t see us nor did we see him when he went by. He went on to finish ahead of us. A- called me. He and G- were up to about 95th St. I asked him to grab some extra goos at the water station and wait for me. My teammate was at about 72nd St.<br />
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<i style="color: #3d85c6;"><span style="font-size: large;">Manhattan</span></i><br />
Again hay bales waited for me at the bottom of bridge. Again I opted not to use them.<br />
The trip up 1st Avenue was an entirely different race. The runners were as thick as a swarm of bees. I knew that I wouldn’t be passing anyone until I caught up with my guides. The crowds were different here too. These were the legendary spectators that make the NYC Marathon unique.<br />
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If you can imagine the World Series with the Yankees at bat in the bottom of the ninth, two runs down with bases loaded, two outs with a three and two count; that was exactly the kind of cheering coming from this 1st Ave. crowd. This was major-league spectating.<br />
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My teammate had affixed my name to my helmet. Crowds yelled, “Go Paul!” They recognized the bright red shirt worn by the AWDs and shouted, “Go Achilles.” The noise would not stop before the finish line. Just past a sponge station at about 72nd St. I caught a glimpse of my teammate. Somehow she had crossed the crowd barrier and was waiting for me while talking to a policeman. I don’t even want to think about how she pulled that off. She produced the long-awaited Snickers. I gobbled it down with huge chomps and washed it down with an energy drink.<br />
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I knew G- and A- were waiting for me about 20 blocks north. I wanted to catch them so they could resume running before their muscles set up in the cold.<br />
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The support from the crowds and the other runners was amazing. I picked my way through the crowds slowly, more intent now to enjoy myself than to try to make up the time I lost on the Queensboro Bridge. As I neared the spot where I planned to meet G- and A-, I made my way over to the right side of the road. The closer I got to the curb, the more the spectators yelled my name.<br />
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I met G- and A- at another of the cheering zones set up by his family. A- was waiting for me with goos. I was probably OK with the Snickers I had just eaten but I sucked a goo down anyway. Anyone who has ever bonked knows they don’t want to do it again, particularly twice in one race. G- and A- were great. We started working as a real team. G- would flank me while A- ran in front and ‘suggest’ to other runners to make room to pass. G- knew the course and was able to warn me of turns that I couldn’t see in front of all the runners.<br />
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<i style="color: #3d85c6;"><span style="font-size: large;">Next Bridge, Next Difficulty</span></i><br />
We made our incursion into the Bronx. On the Willis Avenue Bridge we came upon a fallen runner. A lady was laying face down on the steel grating. It would be a matter of time before someone stepped on her or tripped over her. While all the other runners were trying avoid her, A- ran to her. I stopped upstream of her. He helped her get up. She acted a little dazed but seemed to be OK. She had smacked the steel surface hard with her face. It was a little thing, but I think A- saved her from getting trampled.<br />
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The Bronx crowds were excited. They were as friendly as any along the course. We made our way back into Harlem. We weren’t passing many runners at this point. A- was having some difficulty with his knee. G- seemed to have enough energy to power the city. I was pretty tired. I think bonking at 15 was taking its toll now. I think I sucked down another goo about this point. I seemed to remember a long uphill on Park Ave. from our recon trip in August. Soon after mile 23 we found it. It seemed like it was uphill most of the rest of the course.<br />
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<i style="color: #3d85c6;"><span style="font-size: large;">It's All Uphill From Here</span></i><br />
At one point the hill on the right side of the street sloped downhill giving the illusion that we were going downhill. Despite the mirage, my tired arms knew that we were still climbing. On the few brief downhill respites, G- was ready for a burst of speed. The grimace on A-’s face when he tried to sprint told me that we needed to take it easy from here on in. I told A- to set the pace on the downhills. The most important thing now was to avoid injuring his knee. We started as a team. We were going to finish as a team.<br />
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I dialed my mother on my helmet headset like I had done at the MCM. I let her listen to the crowd noise along 5th Ave. It was all uphill. The crowds provided the motivation as did other runners. Tina and Sue from Hope For The Warriors were there on the curb with Halloween candy for the Team Hope For The Warriors runners. We saw several of the Team. And throughout the final miles, as it had been for the entire day, other Achilles athletes inspired us with their own personal triumphs over multitudes of individual adversities.<br />
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I felt a pat on the back. I looked to my right and saw a gaunt man hobbling along on two prostheses. He was the highest amputee I have ever seen. I shouted in encouragement as did everyone around us. He seemed to be very tired because he was constantly getting tripped up. He, too, had a guide runner that caught him several times when he stumbled. Last year I learned from double amputee Ironman Scott Rigsby that running on blades was pretty tricky and it is easy to trip. The amputee beside me tripped and fell hard, eliciting a massive inhalation from the crowd around him. When our running mate got back to his “feet,” the massive inhalation manifested itself in a thunderous cheer of support for him. I later learned why he looked so tired. He had just run across the United States.<br />
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<i style="color: #3d85c6;"><span style="font-size: large;">A Walk in the Park</span></i><br />
We turned into Central Park for the final leg of our journey. NY had treated us to many pleasures throughout this day. From the spectacular views atop the Verrazano-Narrows Bridge to the warm, welcoming neighborhoods, we experienced a unique cross section of this race. We started out all by ourselves with free run of the streets of Brooklyn. As the field of runners advanced past us we had the rare opportunity to run beside the 2-hour champions of the sport and the 5-hour heroes of their homes. And all throughout the race, the New Yorkers cheered for us like we were their heroes. As we turned into Central Park, the city bestowed one last indulgence upon us.<br />
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Central Park was resplendent in its fall majesty. Throughout the race the scenery had been mostly man-made. Here, nature’s beauty bedazzled us with the magnificent colors of autumn’s splendor. The afternoon sun filtered through the fiery foliage adding a glimmering brilliance to the spectacle.<br />
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My teammate found us in the park. She had climbed over a wall to get to the street. This woman knows no obstacle. We passed G-’s parents and waved. G-’s husband caught us too. Somehow he had been able to leapfrog along the course and catch us at numerous spots. We were approaching Cat Hill in the park. G- and A- both seemed like they were ready to turn some of the energy of this crowd noise into a burst of speed.<br />
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G- and A- cleared a path in front, I yanked on the cranks, and I shot through the hole. The speed felt good but it was short-lived. There were just too many runners at this point. With only a mile remaining, it wasn’t going to change our outcome anyway. From here on in, though we never really stated it aloud, I think we all three mutually consented to just enjoy the crowds, enjoy the runners, and enjoy the finish.<br />
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I know I slowed down at the finish. I had to because my arms were spent and there was a hill at the end. But I think there was a mental component to it also. I didn’t want this experience to end. Our little team had come the 26.2 miles through the streets and boroughs and bridges of the Big Apple. For 43,000 marathoners including ourselves, the triumph that day was not in the victory, it was in the finish.<br />
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I carry an American flag on the back of my handcycle. For me it is the symbol of immense pride and a source of tremendous motivation. I have carried it for over 6000 miles including seven other marathons. After visiting the five boroughs of New York City, that little flag created a minor stir in the bleacher seats that slowly grew until it erupted into a mantra that carried us across the finish line. The spectators shouted in unison, “U-S-A—U-S-A!”<br />
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Such was the day of this humble country boy from eastern NC. It was day full of challenges and inspiration. The marathon known for its warm friendly spectators lived up to its reputation. Amidst the 50,000 people that started this great event a handful of strangers forged a new friendship that will last a lifetime, I’m sure. I told the other two that if they ever want to do this again to let me know. Only time will tell if our intrepid little team will ever reunite.<br />
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Somehow I think it will. Somehow I think it will be on a dark November morning on a bus headed to Staten Island.<br />
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-LetsRoll! <br />
<a href="http://achillestrackclub.org/"></a>LetsRollhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02704108831138764554noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1195166657047014867.post-40840041739554824092009-11-13T15:11:00.000-08:002009-11-14T18:10:23.251-08:002 ½ Marathons in 15 Days—Part 1<span lang="RU"><span style="font-size: large;"><i style="color: #3d85c6;"><span lang="RU" style="font-family: Cambria;">10.25.2009 Marine Corps Marathon</span></i></span> <br />
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="RU" style="font-family: Cambria;">Going into the MCM my thoughts were something like this. “Well I signed up for this feat. Marine Corps Marathon. NYC Marathon. OBX Half Marathon. Now the day of reckoning is here. I feel like the car-chasing dog that caught the car. I’m overweight. Carbed up for too many workouts that got rained out or reprioritized by work. I’m undertrained. Ditto on the workouts that didn’t happen. Now what do I do?” </span><span lang="RU"> </span><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="RU" style="font-family: Cambria;"> </span><span lang="RU"> </span><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="RU" style="font-family: Cambria;">Well, what I did was to have the greatest time of my life!</span><span lang="RU"> </span><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="RU" style="font-family: Cambria;"> </span><span lang="RU"> </span><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="RU" style="font-family: Cambria;">Last year I felt that my first MCM was one the greatest experiences of my life. I felt like my second MCM could never compare. Sunday, October 25, proved me wrong. The 34</span><span lang="RU" style="font-family: Cambria; font-size: 7.5pt;"><sup>th</sup></span><span lang="RU" style="font-family: Cambria;"> MCM was every bit as great an experience for me as the 33</span><span lang="RU" style="font-family: Cambria; font-size: 7.5pt;"><sup>rd</sup></span><span lang="RU" style="font-family: Cambria;">. Hopefully the same will be true for the 35</span><span lang="RU" style="font-family: Cambria; font-size: 7.5pt;"><sup>th</sup></span><span lang="RU" style="font-family: Cambria;">. </span><span lang="RU"> </span><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="RU" style="font-family: Cambria;"> </span><span lang="RU"> </span><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="RU" style="font-family: Cambria;">My inseparable teammate and I traveled to DC on Friday and were privileged to take part in an inspirational dinner with Hope For The Warriors. It was a great opportunity to meet some of the beneficiaries of this great organization. Check out the Fox News video with interviews with MSgt Carl Traub and LCpl Matt Bradford. </span><span lang="RU"> </span><br />
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</div><a href="http://www.myfoxdc.com/dpp/news/local/102309_injured_marines_journey_to_marine_corps_marathon">Video: Injured Marines' Journey to Marathon</a><br />
<span lang="RU" style="font-family: Cambria;"> </span><span lang="RU"> </span> <br />
<div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="RU" style="font-family: Cambria;">Saturday we dodged the rain and visited the Expo. The new digs at the convention center are a big improvement. The only drawback is that the place is so huge that it is easy to get lost. We even did that. I handed my cell phone to my teammate and guess what? We had no way to contact each other.</span><span lang="RU"> </span><br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="RU" style="font-family: Cambria;">In the afternoon we worked at the Hope For The Warriors table at the expo. I should say my teammate worked the table. I managed not to break anything. For me it was a great social event and a chance to meet the MCM Team Hope For The Warriors teammates. This year we had 90 fundraisers on the team. We also had nine wounded warriors, including Team Bradford. “If a blind double amputee can do it, anyone can do it.” Turned out that blind amputee “kicked” my butt.</span><span lang="RU"> </span><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="RU" style="font-family: Cambria;"> </span><span lang="RU"> </span><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="RU" style="font-family: Cambria;">One of the treats of the afternoon was when fellow blogger <a href="http://runningnowherefast.blogspot.com/">Charlie</a> stopped by. Nearly a year after breaking his leg, he was back at the MCM for his first marathon. No lack of ambition here. Charlie was hoping for a BQ! His <a href="http://runningnowherefast.blogspot.com/">blog</a> is a must-read! </span><br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="RU" style="font-family: Cambria;">Another treat was getting to see “The Voice of the Marine Corps Marathon,” Ken Berger. I have gotten to know Ken from our annual Run For The Warriors. There is no feeling in the world like hearing Ken announce your finish. He was not to disappoint this year. Coincidentally, I ran into <a href="http://www.robpowersannouncing.com/index.cfm">Robi Powers</a> as we were leaving. I had the opportunity to thank him in person for the awesome job he did of announcing my finish last year.</span><span lang="RU"> </span><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="RU" style="font-family: Cambria;"> </span><span lang="RU"> </span><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="RU" style="font-family: Cambria;">When we got to the hotel, the team was doing a maintenance check on the handcycles. This year they employed a bike mechanic. That was a nice touch. My teammate got my bike ready and aired up my tires. As luck would have it, one of my tires went bad and I had no spare. Fortunately the team had just bought some spares Friday. They had one left.</span><span lang="RU"> </span><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="RU" style="font-family: Cambria;"> </span><span lang="RU"> </span><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="RU" style="font-family: Cambria;">Saturday night we met the other Team Hope For The Warriors fundraisers. And ate pasta. Again. We sat with a family from Yonkers who came to support their son who was running his first marathon. When I mentioned I was doing the NYC Marathon the following weekend, I was instantly a family member. I didn’t know it at the time, but that was to become a recurring theme with New Yorkers.</span><span lang="RU"> </span><br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="RU"><i style="background-color: #f3f3f3;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="color: #3d85c6;">A Rocky Start</span></span></i> <br />
</span><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="RU" style="font-family: Cambria;">Our handbikers were instructed to meet outside the lobby at 0630 to wheel to the start. That would be more than plenty of time. We set the alarm clock for 0500. At 0600, my teammate jumped up and said, “We’ve overslept!”</span><span lang="RU"> </span><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="RU" style="font-family: Cambria;"> </span><span lang="RU"> </span><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="RU" style="font-family: Cambria;">At 0615 I think, we got a panic call from Robin. “We’re OK. We overslept. Go on to the start without us.” I wasn’t worried. We were staying in the hotel we were in because of some extensive recon I had done after last year’s MCM. Hope For The Warriors had problems in previous years getting their handcyclists to the start and back to the hotel afterward. I stayed in Rosslyn last year and found it was perfect to just roll downhill to the start and then it was just a short hop back to the hotel after the race. </span><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="RU" style="font-family: Cambria;"> </span><span lang="RU"> </span><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="RU" style="font-family: Cambria;">I knew that if I just rolled out to Wilson Blvd. and rolled down the street, it was a straight shot to the starting line. And it was downhill. Down a BIG hill. I could be there in 5 minutes. The opening ceremonies started at 0730. I was on my handcycle and ready. It was 0715. No problem. So I thought. I told my teammate, “I’m gone. Meet me at the start.”</span><span lang="RU"> </span><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="RU" style="font-family: Cambria;"> </span><span lang="RU"> </span><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="RU" style="font-family: Cambria;">I turned down Wilson and immediately found the street blocked from curb to curb by tables and chairs. There was no room to turn around. I bumped and bounced my way through, “rearranging” the furniture as I wheeled. Finally, at my familiar intersection of Lynn and Wilson, I looked down my “I think I can do that” hill. “All I have to do is release brakes and I’m at the start!”</span><span lang="RU"> </span><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="RU" style="font-family: Cambria;"> </span><span lang="RU"> </span><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="RU" style="font-family: Cambria;">The blast of speed felt good compared to my memory of coming up that steep hill. As I went around the corner I realized I would lose some of that kinetic energy to my brakes. Two squad cars blocked my path. “I’m sure they don’t mind moving one since I’m late already,” I thought.</span><span lang="RU"> </span><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="RU" style="font-family: Cambria;"> </span><span lang="RU"> </span><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="RU" style="font-family: Cambria;">“I’m sorry sir, we can’t let you go this way. You have to go back the way you came.” There was no getting them to back down. I turned around and looked up that hill. I looked at my watch. I could have cried. I did NOT want to have to go through that park.</span><span lang="RU"> </span><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="RU" style="font-family: Cambria;"> </span><span lang="RU"> </span><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="RU" style="font-family: Cambria;">I said to myself, “There ain’t but one way to get to the start from here. It’s up that hill. You normally want a warm-up ride before your start. This is it.” I put the handcycle in one of the lowest gears and started up the hill on Wilson Blvd. For the first of two times that day.</span><span lang="RU"> </span><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="RU" style="font-family: Cambria;"> </span><span lang="RU"> </span><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="RU" style="font-family: Cambria;">Getting through the park on wheels was ugly. Fences crossed the sidewalk. There were no provisions for wheelers. Then lawn was gooey mud from rains the day before and the footsteps of tens of thousands of runners. When I finally got to a paved area, it was clogged with people. It was 0730.</span><span lang="RU"> </span><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="RU" style="font-family: Cambria;"> </span><span lang="RU"> </span><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="RU" style="font-family: Cambria;">Finally, I found a sidewalk hidden between the backs of two rows of port-a-potties. It lead me to the top of the finish hill. I started “warming up” my vocal cords down that hill. “Wheels coming through!” I yelled. When I got to the Route 110, I leaned back and yanked with all I had. I must have hit 20 mph going down that highway. </span><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="RU" style="font-family: Cambria;"> </span><span lang="RU"> </span><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="RU" style="font-family: Cambria;">At the start, the opening ceremonies had begun. The Marine band stood between me and the start. A starting official cleared a path for me through the right side of the starting line. I made it!</span><span lang="RU"> </span><br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="RU" style="font-family: Cambria;">The MV-22s did a flyby. That was kind of neat for me since during my day job, I work with a team of engineers and technicians that provides support for Marine Corps aircraft, including the V-22. This year Montel Williams did the start for the handcycles.</span><span lang="RU"> </span><br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="RU"><span style="font-size: large;"><i><span style="color: #3d85c6;">At Least It's a Start</span></i></span> <br />
</span><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="RU" style="font-family: Cambria;">In a few minutes the artillery piece fired and we were rolling. Soon I was all alone again, grinding up that Wilson Blvd. hill. Again. I saw the policemen and said, “You look familiar.”</span><span lang="RU"> </span><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="RU" style="font-family: Cambria;"> </span><span lang="RU"> </span><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="RU" style="font-family: Cambria;">As it was last year, all the way up to Spot Run Parkway was a slow grind. Several runners I knew gave me a shout, including Charlie, my mentor, G-, and Shannon, one of the founders of Hope For The Warriors. The shouts of support from the runners, the pats on the back, the thumbs-up, and all the whoops and hollers were great motivation. </span><span lang="RU"> </span><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="RU" style="font-family: Cambria;"> </span><span lang="RU"> </span><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="RU" style="font-family: Cambria;">On the trip down Spout Run Parkway, I got in some hollering of my own. “Wheels on the right!” It seemed to me like the first part of the race went faster than last year, or at least I didn’t fall as far back in the field by the time I got back off McArthur Bvld. </span><span lang="RU"> </span><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="RU" style="font-family: Cambria;"> </span><span lang="RU"> </span><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="RU" style="font-family: Cambria;">I met my teammate in Georgetown and made a brief stop. Rock Creek Parkway, Haines Point, Independence, and Constitution were all basically flat. And great. </span><br />
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<span lang="RU" style="font-family: Cambria;">I met my teammate again at 15</span><span lang="RU" style="font-family: Cambria; font-size: 7.5pt;"><sup>th</sup></span><span lang="RU" style="font-family: Cambria;"> and Constitution to refuel. The sun was hot and there was no breeze at that particular spot. At that moment I started overheating. At further water stops I had to get Marines to pour water on my head to keep cool. </span><span lang="RU"> </span><br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="RU" style="font-family: Cambria;">At the corner of 15</span><span lang="RU" style="font-family: Cambria; font-size: 7.5pt;"><sup>th</sup></span><span lang="RU" style="font-family: Cambria;"> and Madison there was a table where volunteers handed out tongue depressors with Vaseline. There is also a small hill. I shifted to a low gear but I stalled on the hill. I didn’t remember this spot being that steep. I looked down. The street was littered with tongue depressors and globs of Vaseline. I had the stuff on my tire. I was spinning my wheel. I carefully picked a path between the globs while declining offers to push from runners and spectators. </span><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="RU" style="font-family: Cambria;"> </span><span lang="RU"> </span><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="RU" style="font-family: Cambria;">On Madison I picked up my speed a little but was having a hard time passing iPodders. One was on my right. As I passed him, he noticed his family on our left. He darted left into me and I ran over his foot. I stopped and he said he was all right. That was my first contact with a runner.</span><span lang="RU"> </span><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="RU" style="font-family: Cambria;"> </span><span lang="RU"> </span><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="RU" style="font-family: Cambria;">At the Capital, I met up with some Royal Marines. On Jefferson, one started running interference for me. We had a pretty good rhythm going for a few blocks until I fell back and lost him. The 14</span><span lang="RU" style="font-family: Cambria; font-size: 7.5pt;"><sup>th</sup></span><span lang="RU" style="font-family: Cambria;"> Street Bridge was long and hot. Having replaced the road crown compensator on my bike recently, I didn’t get hung up on the cross grades like I did in the Army Ten Miler. The warm temperatures just wore me down.</span><span lang="RU"> </span><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="RU" style="font-family: Cambria;"> </span><span lang="RU"> </span><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="RU" style="font-family: Cambria;">Athletically, my time was a little more lackluster than last year. I felt I had more strength than last year. I felt like I did a little better on the Arlington and Reservoir Road Hills. I had much more difficulty passing iPodders even though other runners gave me great support by helping the self-deafened move out of the way. I kind of settled in with the same group of runners from the Spout Run area to the 14</span><span lang="RU" style="font-family: Cambria; font-size: 7.5pt;"><sup>th</sup></span><span lang="RU" style="font-family: Cambria;"> Street Bridge. I would pass them on the downhills and they would pass me on the uphills.</span><span lang="RU"> </span><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="RU" style="font-family: Cambria;"> </span><span lang="RU"> </span><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="RU" style="font-family: Cambria;">We traded off support throughout the course although the predominant words from me were, “Wheels coming through!” I dialed up my mother on my cell phone so she could listen to the sound of the finish from her room in her nursing home. My teammate met me on Route 110 just before the entrance to the Marine Corps War Memorial. I stopped across the street and rested a moment and rolled up to that final hill. </span><span lang="RU"> </span><br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="RU" style="font-family: Cambria;"><i><span style="color: #3d85c6; font-size: large;">Pray For Me!</span></i> </span><br />
<span lang="RU" style="font-family: Cambria;"> </span><br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://lh5.ggpht.com/_o04yXF_g1C0/Svjfb2r5LyI/AAAAAAAACtk/ToRnha9dDAc/s1600/DSCN0483.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://lh5.ggpht.com/_o04yXF_g1C0/Svjfb2r5LyI/AAAAAAAACtk/ToRnha9dDAc/s400/DSCN0483.JPG" /></a><br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="RU" style="font-family: Cambria;">My teammates were there to meet me like the prodigal son had returned. I inched my way up that steep driveway with the encouragement of Robin, from Hope For The Warriors; Chris, a wounded Marine; and a Navy Chaplain. I guess looked so bad at that point that the Marines thought I might need last rites. I ratcheted my way up the hill an inch at a time, refusing numerous offers to push. I’m grateful there was no Vaseline station here.</span><span lang="RU"> </span><br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="RU" style="font-family: Cambria;"><i><span style="color: #3d85c6; font-size: large;">It's Still a Finish</span></i> </span><span lang="RU"> </span><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="RU" style="font-family: Cambria;">Once you get to the top of that hill</span><span lang="RU"> it’s deceiving because you turn right and it’s still uphill all the way to the finish line. It’s that hill that gives the MCM much of its character. As I neared the finish line I received a finish line announcement from Ken Berger that would not have been more fitting for the winner. Indeed, I felt like I needed to go do the race twice to deserve such a flattering finish. </span><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://lh4.ggpht.com/_o04yXF_g1C0/SvjfzWLCPII/AAAAAAAACuI/3E2zHRk5EqY/s1600/DSCN0492.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://lh4.ggpht.com/_o04yXF_g1C0/SvjfzWLCPII/AAAAAAAACuI/3E2zHRk5EqY/s400/DSCN0492.JPG" /></a><br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="RU">You can see a video of the finish and hear those kind words of Ken Berger at the following website </span><b><span lang="RU" style="font-family: Cambria;">(Select the “Finish Line 5:55:15 to 6:18:41” video. Ken Berger announcing my finish starts at when the COURSE CLOCK reads about 6:01:50)</span></b><span lang="RU">: </span><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="RU" style="font-family: Cambria;"> </span><span lang="RU"> </span><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><a href="http://www.csnwashington.com/pages/mcm_finish">Video: MCM Finish (choose the 5:55:15-6:18:41 video)</a><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="RU" style="font-family: Cambria;"> </span><span lang="RU"> </span><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="RU">All in all it was an awesome weekend. Primarily made so by the personal satisfaction of being a part of Team Hope For The Warriors. It is an honor to participate in the Marine Corps Marathon along with 90 other runners who have dedicated their marathon to improving life for our Nation's heroes. </span><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://lh4.ggpht.com/_o04yXF_g1C0/Svjekg3Za4I/AAAAAAAACsE/FM-csApI2vQ/s1600/DSCN0461.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://lh4.ggpht.com/_o04yXF_g1C0/Svjekg3Za4I/AAAAAAAACsE/FM-csApI2vQ/s400/DSCN0461.JPG" /></a><br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="RU">And it was an honor to participate beside those very heroes and to be inspired by their example. </span><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://lh3.ggpht.com/_o04yXF_g1C0/SvjgH_CHELI/AAAAAAAACus/RHfLUa50hq4/s1600/DSCN0500.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://lh3.ggpht.com/_o04yXF_g1C0/SvjgH_CHELI/AAAAAAAACus/RHfLUa50hq4/s400/DSCN0500.JPG" /></a><br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="RU">Please join our cause and donate to </span><span lang="RU"><a href="http://www.hopeforthewarriors.org/">Hope For The Warriors</a></span><span lang="RU">. Learn about their great work. You can easily make a donation to <a href="http://www.hopeforthewarriors.org/">Hope For The Warriors</a> by using our secure credit card donation site:<br />
<br />
<a href="http://www.active.com/donate/2008Miles">2008 Miles of Hope</a><br />
<br />
Or donate by check. Download our donation form, fill it out, and send it to us with your donation to our address on the form:<br />
<br />
<a href="http://2008milesofhope.googlepages.com/Donationform.pdf">Donation form.pdf </a></span><br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="RU">One down. One and a half to go.</span><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="RU">-LetsRoll!</span><br />
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</div>Stay tuned for<span lang="RU"> part 2.</span>LetsRollhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02704108831138764554noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1195166657047014867.post-4237435421115126682009-10-19T04:43:00.000-07:002009-10-19T05:14:54.528-07:00Two and a Half Marathons in Fifteen DaysOn Sunday, October 25, I will be rolling out into the pre-dawn darkness to embark on one the biggest feat of my life. I will be lining up at the starting line of the 34th Marine Corps Marathon in Washington, DC. My finish line, however, will be much more distant than the hill at the Marine War Memorial. I plan to complete the New York City Marathon the following weekend, followed by the OBX Half Marathon at Kill Devil Hills, NC the next weekend.<br /><br />I do it because I wish to express my gratitude in my own way for the sacrifice of the thousands of men and women disabled by casualties in the war on terror. For me it is symbolic to do so in the two cities that took the first attacks of that war and then to return to Eastern NC for the final leg. Here at home we have remained safe and protected by the actions of our armed forces.<br /><br />2008 was my first Marine Corps Marathon. It was the culmination of two years of training. It took me six hours to complete the course. However, I am still not done. What began two years earlier as a dream to complete the People’s Marathon has become something far more. It has turned into Hope, Inspiration, and a Promise. It is a journey I call 2008 Miles of Hope.<br /><span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(51, 102, 255);font-size:130%;" ><br /></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://lh3.ggpht.com/_o04yXF_g1C0/StvQUvEpHAI/AAAAAAAACdw/8OK62Ap8fF0/s400/DSC_5521.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="http://lh3.ggpht.com/_o04yXF_g1C0/StvQUvEpHAI/AAAAAAAACdw/8OK62Ap8fF0/s400/DSC_5521.JPG" alt="" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(51, 102, 255);font-size:130%;" ><br />Hope</span><br /><br />Thirty-one years ago I broke my neck in a swimming pool. While I’ve tried to stay active, opportunities for fitness activities are scarce for individuals with high-level disabilities such as mine. In October 2006, I sat in my wheelchair at the corner of Wilson Boulevard and Lynn Street in Arlington prior to the start of the 31st Marine Corps Marathon. I was hoping to catch a glimpse of my niece, who was running her first marathon.<br /><br />There, at the start of the race, was a sight that changed my life. Alongside the wheelchair athletes were the crank chair athletes. I knew that wheelchairs athletes competed in marathons but I had not seen crank chairs before. I said to myself, “I think I can do that!” Completing the Marine Corps Marathon was to become a life goal for this C-6 quadriplegic.<br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(51, 102, 255);font-size:130%;" >Inspiration</span><br /><br />Another sight that moved me as I watched the throngs of runners was the sight of thousands of charity runners dedicating their performance to a greater good. I wished to use my disability and my example to benefit others. I, like many other Americans, feel a profound indebtedness to our Nation's wounded warriors. Because of my disability, I feel a degree of insight into their challenge.<br /><br />I knew I would be logging many miles in my journey to the Marine Corps Marathon. I decided to dedicate those miles to the wounded heroes. I set out to handbike over 2008 miles in training, races, and fundraising events to raise awareness of, and money for, the needs of our Nation's wounded warriors and their families.<br /><br />I thought I might inspire others with my example. Over and over it was I who was inspired. I have had a rare opportunity to race alongside world-class athletes. I was often racing alongside other athletes with disabilities, including many wounded warriors. My blog has brought me into contact with supporters and fellow athletes around the world. The support I have received has been overwhelming. Even local runners in my neighborhood have provided motivation all along the way. I say there’s a new inspiration in every mile. As an example, during the 2008 MCM, as I plodded my way up Lee Highway, there were times that the cacophony of runners yelling “Go Wheels!” was deafening. The welcome to the finish line that announcer Robbie Powers gave me brought tears to the eyes of everyone present, including mine. As I inched my way up that difficult hill he asked the finish line spectators to stand and salute the flag I had carried on my yellow crankchair 26.2 miles through our Nation’s Capital.<br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(51, 102, 255);font-size:130%;" >Promise</span><br /><br />Hope For The Warriors™ is the charity I chose to fulfill my promise to support wounded warriors financially. They have very low administration costs: eight cents of each dollar donated or less. They rely heavily on volunteers like myself to carry out their fundraising. Hope For The Warriors™ looks out for the needs of the wounded and their families. My own experience has taught me the importance of a loving family in the healing and rehabilitation process. Hope For The Warriors™ also has some great programs to benefit those they serve, such as Warrior’s Wishes™, Immediate Needs Grants, Spouses Scholarships, and the Hope and Care Center.<br /><br />I have promised to raise $26,200 in donations for Hope For The Warriors™; $1,000 for every mile in a marathon. My website, www.active.com/donate/2008Miles is set up to handle credit card donations. I post articles on my activities from time to time on my blog, www.2008milesofhope.blogspot.com.<br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(51, 102, 255);font-size:130%;" >2008 Miles of Hope</span><br /><br />Last year I finished the MCM dead last among the crank chair participants. However, no one was prouder of their accomplishment than me. I’ll be there again this year, defending my last place finish. It will be an honor to put on the Hope For The Warriors™ jersey and join my teammates at the starting line of The People's Marathon.<br /><br />As of the date of the Marine Corps Marathon, with the help of my loyal teammate and loving wife and teammate I have raised over $20,000. This year, I hope to build on last year’s achievement by completing the Marine Corps Marathon, the New York City Marathon, and the OBX half; all within fifteen days. When I cross the Marine Corps finish line, I will have completed another 2008 miles in training, races, and fundraising events again this year. I won’t quit until I’ve reached my goal of raising $26,200 for our injured heroes.<br /><br />One member of the Marine Wounded Warrior Battalion once called me, “a warrior for the warriors.” I find that distinction to be undeserved. I’m not a warrior. I’m just a grateful beneficiary of the sacrifices of those brave professionals. Our wounded warriors have gone the distance for our freedom. I plan to go the distance to help them now.<br /><br /><div>Join me in my campaign, <a href="http://www.active.com/donate/2008Miles">2008 Miles of Hope</a>, to help America's heroes, our wounded warriors and their families. Donate today. You can easily make a donation to <a href="http://www.hopeforthewarriors.org/">Hope For The Warriors</a> by using our secure credit card donation site:<br /><br /><a href="http://www.active.com/donate/2008Miles">2008 Miles of Hope</a><br /><br />Or donate by check. Download our donation form, fill it out, and send it to us with your donation to our address on the form:<br /><br /><a href="http://2008milesofhope.googlepages.com/Donationform.pdf">Donation form.pdf </a><br /><br />And learn about where the money goes:<br /><br /><a href="http://www.hopeforthewarriors.org/">Hope For The Warriors</a><br /><br />There is no better way to say thanks to those who have sacrificed so much.<br /><br />-LetsRoll!<br /><br /></div>LetsRollhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02704108831138764554noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1195166657047014867.post-47691200072301519612009-09-06T18:57:00.000-07:002009-09-07T18:35:35.351-07:00Teammate ROCKS Virginia Beach!<span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(51, 102, 255);font-size:130%;" >09.06.2009</span><br /><br />It’s been a while since I have posted a blog but well, “it’s been a <span style="font-style: italic;">toim</span>,” as they say in down east Carteret County. We have been busy with the Shamrock Marathon and 8K and the Cherry Point Half Marathon in March, the Dismal Swamp Stomp Half Marathon and the Lookout Rotary 10K in April, the Run for the Warriors 10K in May, and the Beaufort Road Race 10K in July. My training was lagging in the spring. I was plagued by disappointing races until I discovered a problem with my handbike after the Shamrock.<br /><br />I found one of the lateral supports that holds my trunk centered in my seat was out of adjustment. I was literally hanging out the side of my seat. When we corrected the problem I did a great job in the Cherry Point half and had some amazing workouts subsequently. After the Run For The Warriors, the spring races were behind me and I put the handbike in the shop for some needed repairs. Unfortunately that killed my workouts for about three weeks.<br /><br />I found myself playing catch up to get back in shape for the Beaufort Road Race during the heat of the summer. In August I was able to increase my training tempo to about 80 miles per week by working out in the dark and by dousing myself with tons of ice and icewater during my daylight workouts. I’ve become pretty familiar with the sunrise recently. I knew I was pretty much ready for the Rock ‘n’ Roll half last week when I did my fastest climb yet up the Atlantic Beach Bridge.<br /><br /><a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/J87yYBRqjV47gNfjxzmJbQ?authkey=Gv1sRgCOSe3Mm59q7oCQ&feat=embedwebsite"><img src="http://lh6.ggpht.com/_o04yXF_g1C0/SqWumbkzGII/AAAAAAAACcM/8_guqRF0mO0/s400/DSCN0369.JPG" /></a><br /><br />July brought good news when the <a href="http://www.achillestrackclub.org/">Achilles Track Club</a> gave me a seed in the <a href="http://www.nycmarathon.org/">New York City Marathon</a>. Yeah, I’m in! In August my teammate and I drove to New York to recon the course. Five boroughs, five bridges, many hills, and a gazillion potholes are going to make the NYC my biggest challenge yet. I think the folks that paved the Wilson Bridge are the same ones that paved the surface of the moon.<br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(51, 102, 255);font-size:130%;" >Every weekend an inspiration</span><br /><br />I say that one has only to open one’s eyes to be inspired. So it has been for me with my teammate’s running. Last year she trained for the Rock ‘n’ Roll but had to forgo her entry when she missed about six weeks of training because of a leg ailment. This year, she began increasing her distance to run 10Ks in the Lookout Rotary Spring Road Race, the Run For The Warriors, and the Beaufort Road Race. She regularly ran the Beach Run Series while I worked out on the AB Bridge.<br /><br />Early in the summer she built her stamina to run ten miles on weekends. She kept up a brutal training regimen in the heat of July and August. She was clearly going to be ready for <span style="font-style: italic;">her first half marathon</span> at this year’s Rock ‘n’ Roll Half. This event has become a family favorite for us. My niece, T- and I have run the race together the last two years. My teammate has been an active participant and supporter. She would leapfrog along the course on her bike to meet us with energy drinks, food, ice, and camera support. This year she was out there on the course.<br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 255); font-style: italic;font-size:130%;" >A close one</span><br /><br />We were sweating it out the last days before the race. While I thought she was registered last fall, I checked her registration several times to confirm that I had registered her. It turns out that I was actually looking at last year’s registration. I had never registered her. When I broke the news to her, I wasn’t sure if she was going to do cartwheels in elation or hang me in disgust. In the end we were able to register her at the expo and everything was OK.<br /><br />I had secretly invited the sons and the grandkids. They wanted to surprise her but on Saturday all the phone calls were making her suspicious. When finally she demanded to know, “Who was that?” I had to fess up, “That’s your cheering squad!” The kids were hiding outside the motel door.<br /><br />Race morning we were up at 3:45 and off to downtown VA Beach. I had the choice of starting with the other wheelers or seeding in with my Teammate in corral 21. I wanted to be with her to enjoy her finish so I chose to do the race with her.<br /><br /><a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/Xo27YB5Xvzb5T7sF286HCg?authkey=Gv1sRgCOSe3Mm59q7oCQ&feat=embedwebsite"><img src="http://lh3.ggpht.com/_o04yXF_g1C0/SqWuo1piClI/AAAAAAAACcQ/klGz4PUvf7w/s400/DSCN0382.JPG" /></a><br /><br />I saw my friends David Swaim and One Leg Dan at the start. <br /><br /><a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/QVh_qfsfl0XAZIpCEltyVg?authkey=Gv1sRgCOSe3Mm59q7oCQ&feat=embedwebsite"><img src="http://lh6.ggpht.com/_o04yXF_g1C0/SqWusI_8zhI/AAAAAAAACcU/t-Up6yKU5kw/s400/DSCN0387.JPG" /></a><br /><br />As we made our way back through the corrals, we found T- and her friend MO.<br /><br /><a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/1IY8smM5XGmvekcIttZJag?authkey=Gv1sRgCOSe3Mm59q7oCQ&feat=embedwebsite"><img src="http://lh3.ggpht.com/_o04yXF_g1C0/SqWuwrFD4lI/AAAAAAAACcY/iJwFxuXwmzc/s400/DSCN0388.JPG" /></a><br /><br /><a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/rfb2SG_rxlgHTFqQdqR8Hg?authkey=Gv1sRgCOSe3Mm59q7oCQ&feat=embedwebsite"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgk_UBhgbt306aIU9Qtj09A2VDpn6sc_Hm4RajiNvYuG1USKWAcMbLsWxbBjQE8OOnFETcT2oYHBvRVyNhZnLzdLVu5Otndaf4zbBxP8lm4GItQmDv3Cm13vFAJVaw4sKUj18Hbev6TCQGR/s400/DSCN0390.JPG" /></a><br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(51, 102, 255);font-size:130%;" >A running machine</span><br /><br />She had trained at about a 13 minute pace during the summer. I was afraid by rolling with her I’d be making my teammate run too fast. But throughout the race she was consistently nailing 12-minute miles. I think the cooler weather was giving her an extra boost. With a few bathroom stops and a couple of walking breaks, she averaged a 13-minute pace, finishing in 2:49.<br /><br /><a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/9fXnW4wmirHnHLXaxbWkzA?authkey=Gv1sRgCOSe3Mm59q7oCQ&feat=embedwebsite"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgouRd4qSgAUYd3qzkihO0Bvdkh2VFP9papjsRW197IoeOhX1WxywZJ4Ro35vTrAr_TqSYQ5aXrcl_L-wynsDavMfzVYAxWwNQNf7RBaMSwlECQpXhF0HjrUraWKIYmZb42Aib1dqSeRNit/s400/DSCN0393.JPG" /></a><br /><br />To put that in perspective, of about 16000 finishers, there were only 104 women in her age bracket. Of those 104, she finished 37th. Not bad for grandma! There are not many women her age that can do what she did. I told her sons, 40 and 42, "It’s official, your mom can outrun you both!"<br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(51, 102, 255);font-size:130%;" >Hope For The Warriors</span><br /><a href="http://www.hopeforthewarriors.org/"><br />Hope For The Warriors</a> was an official charity partner with the <a href="http://www.rnrvb.com/charities.html">Rock ‘n’ Roll Half Marathon</a> this year. One of the runners spotlighted in the official race program was a Team Hope For The Warriors runner. We met another Team runner in our corral and I ran into her several times on the course. Throughout the race people saw the Hope For The Warriors placard on my handbike and shouted in support. Many said things like, “Thank you for what you’re doing!” For my teammate and I, it is an honor to represent Hope For The Warriors and raise money for their great programs.<br /><br />I’m handbiking 2008 miles in training, races, and fundraising events again this year. I plan to complete back-to-back marathons, the Marine Corps Marathon <span style="font-style: italic;">and</span> the New York City Marathon this year. And I continue with my goal of raising $26.2 thousand for <a href="http://www.hopeforthewarriors.org/">Hope For The Warriors</a>.<br /><br />So far, we have brought in $18,000. Grateful Americans across this great nation have been overwhelmingly generous and supportive of our cause. Your support is needed, too. Please visit our secure donation site and make an online donation.<br /><br /><a href="http://www.active.com/donate/2008Miles">2008 Miles of Hope</a><br /><br />Or download our donation form and send it with a check to the address on the form.<br /><br /><a href="http://2008milesofhope.googlepages.com/Donationform.pdf">Donation form.pdf</a><br /><br />Please show your gratitude for the service and the sacrifice of our wounded warriors. Read about the programs offered by <a href="http://www.hopeforthewarriors.org/">Hope For The Warriors</a>. Make a donation.<br /><br />They sacrificed selflessly for your freedom.LetsRollhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02704108831138764554noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1195166657047014867.post-86304937653586006592009-03-08T17:33:00.000-07:002018-05-25T15:25:26.654-07:00Thrice HonoredHow can you beat the experience of finishing third in your division in a home-town half marathon, when by all, rights with a severe disability, you should be a shut-in? <br />
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How about by getting to take part in that race beside some world-class disabled athletes who are Marine Veterans? Well then how do you top that experience? </div>
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How about to be escorted through the race by bicycle escorts who are wounded warriors on their road to recovery? </div>
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<span style="font-size: 130%;">Crystal Coast Half Marathon </span></div>
This year it rained again. This year, too, the rain was no match for the spirits of the Crystal Coast Half Marathoners. Like last year the temperature was mild. Unlike last year, the winds were mild too.<br />
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<a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/dt5F7wkwoafnUOYNZLPzXw?authkey=Gv1sRgCOGW3Z_mse_l4QE&feat=embedwebsite"><img src="https://lh5.ggpht.com/_o04yXF_g1C0/SbRnFcoXPoI/AAAAAAAACY0/u-hs0fRCse0/s400/DSC_4412.JPG" /></a></div>
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I had made a desperate attempt to get in some decent workouts in the past few weeks. The weather and my schedule keep fighting me. I need to quit whining. I get out there as much as I can and that’s about it. It’s just not as much as I wish. </div>
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Last fall I emailed Butch Robertson, the race director about participating this year. He wrote back a few weeks ago and said to invite some other athletes. So after the Myrtle Beach I wrote to OneLegDan and David Swaim. I had no idea they would be interested in coming down to Morehead City. Lo and behold they did come. Yee-ha! We’re going to have a wheelchair division this year!</div>
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<a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/-PxZ2zF8w1zjt9qSqrBVxQ?authkey=Gv1sRgCOGW3Z_mse_l4QE&feat=embedwebsite"><img src="https://lh6.ggpht.com/_o04yXF_g1C0/SbRoMm3DJ1I/AAAAAAAACY8/IG_p7DoRWIk/s400/DSC_4439.JPG" /></a></div>
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OneLegDan was wounded in Viet Nam and later lost a leg in a motorcycle wreck. He’s an all around great guy. His wife, D- and he travel all around the world racing in marathons for the Achilles Track Club’s Freedom team of disabled veterans.</div>
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<a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/R6ZJHkx6idJ8aszYQkRQbQ?authkey=Gv1sRgCOGW3Z_mse_l4QE&feat=embedwebsite"><img src="https://lh6.ggpht.com/_o04yXF_g1C0/SbRoX_yeQRI/AAAAAAAACZA/epjAplcTawA/s400/DSC_4440.JPG" /></a></div>
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David was a Cherry Point Marine during Viet Nam and is a low-level paraplegic with a non—service related disability. Now this part of the story illustrates how one person can change the destiny of another’s life. During his recovery, a PT took an interest in him and recognized that his restless energy could be constructively channeled into sports. She got him interested in wheelchair racing. The rest is history. Not only did he marry that girl, but he went on to train to become a world–class athlete. He has won the Marine Corps Marathon, the Shamrock, the Myrtle Beach Marathon, the Rock n Roll Half and many more races that I don’t even know about. </div>
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To put it in perspective, on a good day, I grind out 8-minute miles. My PR for a half is almost a 7-minute pace. The word I heard most associated with his CC Half performance was “rocket.” He trashed that course, complete with an eighty-foot bridge with a 3-fifty something pace! Here is a picture of him in the Myrtle Beach Marathon returning to earth from a light speed journey through the town.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUE5BmY49a0GfK5knFJmxsBJH5k1Jg_B9aReqZvaagxgLTZh3edI3zAoP3gGezEDOJDc7afK2KPV4B3oWn3DPq5Oew0Kb4Ys-ySu3amTqTIAE81qR4iKyG6qmrTw7r8poVc02wRe9vIR4r/s1600/Swaim.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="176" data-original-width="431" height="162" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUE5BmY49a0GfK5knFJmxsBJH5k1Jg_B9aReqZvaagxgLTZh3edI3zAoP3gGezEDOJDc7afK2KPV4B3oWn3DPq5Oew0Kb4Ys-ySu3amTqTIAE81qR4iKyG6qmrTw7r8poVc02wRe9vIR4r/s400/Swaim.png" width="400" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: 85%;"><span class="caption">Photo by Steve Jessmore sjessmore@thesunnews.com–The Sun News</span></span> </div>
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<span style="font-size: 130%;">Marines to the assist </span></div>
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In a later email from Butch, he asked me to arrange for some bicycle escorts for the chairs. With little time left before the race and very little time in my schedule, I emailed some local athletes to see if they wished to ride bikes as escorts. While they couldn’t they passed my request on to others. I got CWO G-, a Marine from Cherry Point, and BC, a banker in Morehead City.</div>
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<a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/fHHHS-9n2YXNAUrXnouYbg?authkey=Gv1sRgCOGW3Z_mse_l4QE&feat=embedwebsite"><img src="https://lh4.ggpht.com/_o04yXF_g1C0/SbRpIotZwoI/AAAAAAAACZY/J9XBm6doIt8/s400/DSC_4421.JPG" /></a></div>
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I also got in contact with BG, a cycling coach for the Wounded Warrior Battalion-Det. East. BG couldn’t ride because he was running. He did, however get two civilian members of his Window Gang bike team to volunteer, BS and PJ. BG also got 4 volunteers that he coaches at the WW Bn-E. Sgt. T-, Capt. E-, LCpl. D-, and CWO R- all turned out to volunteer to escort the wheelchair division in the race. </div>
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<a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/4ePkKJTtA90k8f1eAdP0Ug?authkey=Gv1sRgCOGW3Z_mse_l4QE&feat=embedwebsite"><img src="https://lh3.ggpht.com/_o04yXF_g1C0/SbRp6pwMD4I/AAAAAAAACZw/2mq7yuW1gWY/s400/DSC_4462.JPG" /></a></div>
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Having 8 escorts for 3 chairs, I knew, would make things a lot easier AND safer. Right away Dan and David hit it off with their escorts. T-, who had been literally blown apart by a suicide bomber listened intently as OneLegDan described his encounter with a ’Bouncing Betty.’ </div>
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Butch came up with a scheme for starting the wheelers so as to minimize the interaction between the runners and the wheelers. He started me about 2 minutes earlier than David and OneLegDan and then started the runners almost immediately afterward. I don’t know how the timer kept track of all that.</div>
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<span style="font-size: 130%;"><span style="color: rgb(51 , 102 , 255); font-style: italic;">The race</span></span></div>
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We launched out in the rain Saturday morning with Capt. E- and LCpl. D- beside me. For a few brief seconds, I was in front of David Swaim in a race for the first time ever. It really was no race for although I was a few blocks ahead of David, I soon heard the shouts from the rear, “ON THE LEFT!” In a blink, this blue flash rocketed by.</div>
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<a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/B43NEOXG_Ot8lGpX4qEblQ?authkey=Gv1sRgCOGW3Z_mse_l4QE&feat=embedwebsite"><img src="https://lh4.ggpht.com/_o04yXF_g1C0/SbRpBmSZxzI/AAAAAAAACZI/RpzhntouOVQ/s400/DSC_4426.JPG" /></a></div>
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I shouted “Go David!” and he was gone in a blink. Bicyclists CWO R-, BC, BS, and PJ were around him. I’m not sure if they weren’t struggling to keep up. OneLegDan zipped past a few minutes later with Sgt T- and CWO G.</div>
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<a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/6Qtq96KbJ2BeYz-g1n2bPw?authkey=Gv1sRgCOGW3Z_mse_l4QE&feat=embedwebsite"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRgCJOIPY_qpm2YefP9Ip2Fmg3JAxmLhzplbq5BpXJnknlO7qH8GPXIFcG9kr9wPVfKU-W41rfqWvMO6ygBut1txq1MvVKEWxxLae9VE2WmVNKTvQ1vAEjbPg8KhADiQXlL3yuMedHxojK/s400/DSC_4431.JPG" /></a></div>
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The lead runners came racing by a few second later. They were looking strong. I think that all these fast folks blasting past me gave me a bit of a mental boost because I was cranking pretty hard. I think my last few workouts on the AB bridge were paying off. </div>
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<a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/hXHO7J57XO4cVKB8I-qiLA?authkey=Gv1sRgCOGW3Z_mse_l4QE&feat=embedwebsite"><img src="https://lh5.ggpht.com/_o04yXF_g1C0/SbRpMbubuHI/AAAAAAAACZg/jBUIyeLL4Es/s400/DSC_4425.JPG" /></a></div>
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After two loops around downtown Morehead City at a pretty good speed (for me, anyway) we took off toward the AB Bridge. I got into my lowest gears and cranked continuously all the way up. I normally have to stop several times but today I could keep going. I had communicated my plan for crossing the bridge to my escorts. Basically the same idea I used at OBX; it worked well today. On the uphill, they dismounted and walked behind me. On the downhill, they wend 30-50 yards in front to warn the runners to move over. </div>
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Just as I peaked the bridge about mile 6, I think, I saw a police car and then saw David’s escorts as he was returning. Man, he was flying!</div>
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<a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/VkLU-WqCF3qUdEzUZ_hiEw?authkey=Gv1sRgCOGW3Z_mse_l4QE&feat=embedwebsite"><img src="https://lh6.ggpht.com/_o04yXF_g1C0/SbRpDkRnsQI/AAAAAAAACZM/mt7jc87gKQ0/s400/DSC_4428.JPG" /></a></div>
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My trip down the AB side of the bridge top out at about 22 mph. The escorts were great. There was no problem with other runners. Everything was going well At the bottom of the bridge I hit a bump and the bracket that holds my race number on my bike fell off. When I caught back up with LCpl D-, I asked him if he would mind going back to get it.</div>
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Capt. E- and I pressed on toward Fort Macon. The other runners were great. I was passing most of them by now. They were the folks that passed me on the uphill side of the bridge. My coworker D- was one of them. I met OneLegDan on the return. He and his escorts seemed to be having a great time.</div>
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The runners were offering great support. I was having a good time and shouted encouragement to them too. As we approach the turn around I told my escorts I may need the whole road to turn around so watch for traffic and be prepared to warn cars on the other side. On the trip back I got to see th<i>e “rest of the pack,” </i>the runners behind me and I could see them face to face. Even after eight miles or so everyone was all smiles and the spirit was high.</div>
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Again I was surprised at my energy level on the second bridge climb. I think the excitement of race day had me stoked. I coasted down the Morehead City side of the bridge while the bikers made sure folks were aware I was passing. I think I hit 27 mph on the return.</div>
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<a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/5cMS7oXe33qeXctNuhjDxg?authkey=Gv1sRgCOGW3Z_mse_l4QE&feat=embedwebsite"><img src="https://lh3.ggpht.com/_o04yXF_g1C0/SbRpyL3q2XI/AAAAAAAACZk/jnSRjymhncI/s400/DSC_4452.JPG" /></a></div>
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<a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/UOxtzf4eTb5Ipt7kjGQXuA?authkey=Gv1sRgCOGW3Z_mse_l4QE&feat=embedwebsite"><img src="https://lh6.ggpht.com/_o04yXF_g1C0/SbRp30RersI/AAAAAAAACZs/OwunPWpgfbU/s400/DSC_4461.JPG" /></a></div>
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David and OneLegDan were waiting at the finish. We waited around for the awards.</div>
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<a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/TWJz0d0fMuBpG_A0cLqb9Q?authkey=Gv1sRgCOGW3Z_mse_l4QE&feat=embedwebsite"><img src="https://lh5.ggpht.com/_o04yXF_g1C0/SbRqEXlziSI/AAAAAAAACZ8/F69bIiPW19Y/s400/DSC_4478.JPG" /></a></div>
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Butch was very gracious and awarded all three of us an award. We also had another surprise. My teammate came in second in her division in the 5K! You go girl! My time was 1:52. In third place, I was a half hour better than last year. But then no gale winds this year. But to put my accomplishment into perspective, David Swaim the new course record holder, beat my time by over an hour!</div>
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So that was Saturday. Sunday the weather was rotten. Monday it snowed. Wednesday it was bitter cold. On Thursday we got a break and I went back to the AB Bridge to work out. I couldn’t even come close to the climb I had done on Saturday. Yesterday was Thursday and I got in a 13 mile ride over varied terrain. Again, I was no where near the level of my Saturday performance!</div>
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All in all it was a great weekend. I say I was honored three times. With my level of disability, to roll across the starting line is an honor in and of itself. To be associated with and start beside world class athletes and honorable veterans like David and OneLegDan is an honor can’t describe. But to be assisted in my humble endeavor by the very individuals I support with my 2008 Miles of Hope campaign, is going to be a memory and a source of pride that I will enjoy for many years.</div>
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<span style="font-size: 130%;"><span style="color: rgb(51 , 102 , 255); font-style: italic;">Return the honor</span></span></div>
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So as you read these words, put our freedom into perspective with the lives of many people around the world. We take more freedom for granted than most people will ever know. The fact that we can take that freedom for granted makes me grateful to people like Sgt. T- who was blown up by a suicide bomber wearing an explosive vest. And now as he recovers from his wounds, he volunteers his time to the community to make an event like this successful. It makes me grateful for people like LCpl. D-, who, while the truck in which he rode in the turret position drove over an IED that killed his comrades and shattered his legs. And yet he finds the time in his recovery to help folks like me and hundreds of others have a fun and safe race.</div>
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Remember our warriors like these and remember their sacrifices. It is because of their courage and their suffering that we sleep at night. Join me in my campaign to honor them with a contribution to Hope For The Warriors. </div>
Donate today. You can easily make a donation to <a href="http://www.hopeforthewarriors.org/">Hope For The Warriors</a> by using our secure credit card donation site:<br />
<br />
<a href="http://www.active.com/donate/2008Miles">2008 Miles of Hope</a><br />
<br />
Or donate by check. Download our donation form, fill it out, and send it to us with your donation to our address on the form:<br />
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<a href="http://2008milesofhope.googlepages.com/Donationform.pdf">Donation form.pdf</a><br />
<br />
And learn about where the money goes: <a href="http://www.hopeforthewarriors.org/">Hope For The Warriors</a><br />
<br />
<br />
Look for us at the Shamrock!LetsRollhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02704108831138764554noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1195166657047014867.post-5459423236432522112009-02-17T17:57:00.000-08:002009-02-18T18:49:57.516-08:00Valentine’s Day Crank and Grind<div><span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 255);font-size:130%;" ><em>You know you’re in trouble when:<br /></em></span><br />1) The forecast for your February marathon is cold, windy, and rainy.<br />2) The National Anthem is being sung at the starting line and you haven’t decided what to wear.<br />3) You’re still at your hotel.<br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 255);font-size:130%;" ><em>Myrtle Beach Marathon</em></span><br /><br />My <a href="http://www.mbmarathon.com/">Myrtle Beach Marathon</a> weekend starts with Tuesday. I’m desperately trying to regain strength lost over the last few months I attribute to lack of training. Over each of the past two weekends I got in a long handbike ride on Saturday and a marathon-length ride on Sunday. I was a little optimistic for the MB Marathon because the second marathon-ride was back in the time range I was hoping for.<br /><br />Tuesday I put in a ride over the Atlantic Beach Bridge to work on strength. I still felt like I had a long way to go.<br /><br />Wednesday I got in another AB Bridge climb. Finally I felt some improvement. Nothing like a year ago but better than in recent weeks.<br /><br />Thursday my teammate and I set out to Myrtle Beach. I hoped to squeeze in a ride in the PM. There just wasn’t enough time in the day. We made it to the expo and picked up our bib numbers. My teammate was registered for the 5K and I, the marathon. The MB marathon not only welcomes hand cranks, they have separate divisions for cranks and push rims and awards for both. And it’s flat. At the expo, one of the vendors was the Grand Strand Bicycle Shop. One of their salesmen told us about a nice bike trail at Huntington Beach.<br /><br /><table style="width: auto;"><tbody><tr><td><a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/ZyujhYUM6MkELb9RfQ7RUw?authkey=kjncWpAXmxc&feat=embedwebsite"><img src="http://lh5.ggpht.com/_o04yXF_g1C0/SZy__2v9v0I/AAAAAAAACYE/DE2DdpQJRxY/s400/DSC_4348.JPG" /></a></td></tr><tr><td style="font-family: arial,sans-serif; font-size: 11px; text-align: right;">From <a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/2008MilesOfHope/MBM09?authkey=kjncWpAXmxc&feat=embedwebsite">MBM09</a></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><br />Friday morning we visited that trail and put in a 10-mile ride at a leisurely pace. It was a nice way to burn off the pancakes I had for breakfast. Anyone who has been to Myrtle Beach knows that pancake houses are as scarce as tee shirt stores. The trail winds through a shady pine forest before connecting with a street bike lane in Murrell’s Inlet.<br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 255);font-size:130%;" ><em>RBC 5K</em></span><br /><br />Later Friday afternoon I dropped my teammate off at Broadway at the Beach for the start of the 5K. I drove over to Coastal Field to catch her at the end. I took a short nap in the van while I waited for her to get underway. At the last minute I decided to catch her out on the course so I wheeled out to Grissom Pkwy. to catch her at about mile 2.7. Pardon the fuzzy picture; I can hold a camera about as still as a paint shaker. </div><div></div><br /><a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/EEK-13PFFJa24CE5EZxxbA?authkey=kjncWpAXmxc&feat=embedwebsite"><img src="http://lh3.ggpht.com/_o04yXF_g1C0/SZzGqQZ9V-I/AAAAAAAACYs/SP0zBMRmHcg/s400/DSCN0189.JPG" /></a><br /><div><br /><br />I didn’t get to see her finish, but she said this time she sprinted at the finish; remembering the Dash for Cash when she missed placing in her division by about 10 seconds. When I found her she was searching for her results. She couldn’t find her time but said it looked like there were others that beat her substantially. We were planning on a 4 AM wake-up so we didn’t wait around for the awards.<br /><br /></div><br /><a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/FLh0Wdd-ZJvp4nqhjRhyIQ?authkey=kjncWpAXmxc&feat=embedwebsite"><img src="http://lh4.ggpht.com/_o04yXF_g1C0/SZzGAYI2ebI/AAAAAAAACYk/7hrgQruPKsQ/s400/DSCN0190.JPG" /></a><br /><br /><div></div><div><span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 255);font-size:130%;" ><em>Bi-Lo Marathon</em></span><br /><br />Friday night I looked at every weather report I could find. I brought rain gear that would feel good if it rained. The problem is it would cook me if it didn’t. I woke up a dozen times or so during the night remembering the Neuse River Bridge Run and how miserable I got in the cold wind and rain.<br /><br />Saturday morning it looked like the rain might hold off for a couple of hours, but it looked like it would, in all likelihood, rain and the temps would start off in the lower 50s and never break 57. I decided to go with rain gear. Rain pants covered Polartec sweats on my legs and a Gore-Tex jacket covered thin polyester short-sleeved and cotton long-sleeved tee shirts.<br /><br />The race starts at 6:30 with chairs crossing the line at 6:25. My hope was to be at the starting line at 6:00. The extra time dressing and deciding what to wear messed me up. I thought I gad plenty of time, but after I got on the bike I looked at my watch, which was heretofore covered up by my rain jacket. It was already after 6:00. I was in the parking lot of our motel, which, fortunately, was only about 5 blocks from the start.<br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 255);font-size:130%;" ><em>Mile 0 Grissom Parkway</em></span><br /><br />I was almost ready to shove off and it was 6:15. By now they were singing the National Anthem. Then I made a crucial decision. I was going to be too hot. I got my teammate to help me out of the jacket (which is a big deal, trust me on this). The clouds were still high and the temps were warmer than forecast. By the time it rained I might even welcome the cooling. About 6:20 I rolled off toward the start. As I got near I could see the spotlight in the sky and began to hear the announcer. He was announcing the chairs were about to start.<br /><br />About then a charity team walked out into the street right in front of me en masse. What else could go wrong? I was about to find out. After weaving around the charity team I arrived at the start just as the gun was fired for the chair start. The only problem was, there was a crowd control fence between me and the starting line. I pulled up to a joint in the fence and shouted to some bewildered spectators to move one section of the fence. Stunned at the sight of me, it took some more shouted directions before someone moved the fence and I could get through. By that time the runners were starting to move forward to the start.<br /><br />The starter saw me and waived me forward and off I went. I looked down the road and could barely see the last chair in front of me. The only sign of the lead wheelers was the faint blink of the police car lights off in the distance. About two hundred yards down the course I remembered to start my GPS. My GPS recorded itself being started at 6:24:40. GPS time is usually pretty accurate, so it looks to me like the race started early. Well, I was off. My last race got of with an un-exciting start. This one was anything but.<br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 255);font-size:130%;" ><em>Mile 1 (about 8:40) Joe White Ave.</em></span><br /><br />I usually enjoy a few minutes at the start meeting other handbikers and wheelchair competitors. Not the case this day. I would have to be content to read about them in the newspaper. As I cruised south on Grissom I was all alone. A handful of spectators were out on the street in the dark and they were all great support. After about a half mile I turned west on Joe White Ave. A motorcycle joined up with me and cruised along beside. I felt pretty good but I wished I could have rested for a few minutes at the start after my “warm up sprint” from the motel. A policeman came along side and told the motorcyclist that the runners just launched.<br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 255);font-size:130%;" ><em>Mile 2 (7:59) Seaboard St.</em></span><br /><br />I turned up Seaboard and headed north. The road looped around a mall and eventually the lead runners passed. Since there were no cash prizes, the Kenyans weren't out in front. We yelled to each other in support. The road was flat and the asphalt was fast. The course actually looped past our motel and my teammate stood out front yelling in support.<br /><br /><table style="width: auto;"><tbody><tr><td><a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/zHtZMIrPCWttg8lM0JibFQ?authkey=kjncWpAXmxc&feat=embedwebsite"><img src="http://lh5.ggpht.com/_o04yXF_g1C0/SZy_9YvDNWI/AAAAAAAACYA/TYxOsmScrwI/s400/DSC_4357.JPG" /></a></td></tr><tr><td style="font-family: arial,sans-serif; font-size: 11px; text-align: right;">From <a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/2008MilesOfHope/MBM09?authkey=kjncWpAXmxc&feat=embedwebsite">MBM09</a></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 255);font-size:130%;" ><em>Mile 3 (7:45) Broadway at the Beach</em></span><br /><br />We turned off 21st Ave. N. into the Broadway shopping center. The runners were very supportive. Some stuck out their “thumbs up” others yelled. As we approached a corner, one even asked whether I wanted the inside or outside track. “Wheels yield to heels” is my policy, I said, “you take the inside, I’ll take the outside.”<br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 255);font-size:130%;" ><em>Mile 4 (9:35) 29th Ave. N. </em></span><br /><br />After a few turns we headed east on 29th Ave. N. It seems any beach town has rolling up and down streets which is the nature of the old sand dunes that lie beneath. We went up a gentle grade along 29th as we headed toward the main drag along the waterfront. I noticed a folding umbrella that someone had lost or cast aside beside the street. I thought to myself, “I bet they will miss that later.” The weather right now was about perfect; cloudy, cool, and light breezes. I was glad had relinquished the jacket.<br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 255);font-size:130%;" ><em>Mile 5 (7:43) Ocean Blvd.</em></span><br /><br />Along 29th Ave. N. the road drops pretty steeply to Ocean Blvd. Unfortunately it also narrows which made it impossible to safely capitalize on the downhill. I fell into a gap between runners and got a pretty tight turn around the corner onto Ocean Blvd. At about mile 5 I spied my teammate again who was waiting on the sidewalk to take my picture.<br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 255);font-size:130%;" ><em>Mile 6 (8:22), Mile 7 (9:46), Mile 8 (8:59) Ocean Blvd.</em></span><br /><br />The south end of Ocean Blvd. rolled up and down with gentle grades and not much elevation. No one would ever want for tee-shirts or sunglasses in this part of town. The fellow runners were great. We chatted up little conversations and for the most part they offered a lot of support.<br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 255);font-size:130%;" ><em>Mile 9 (11:01) Kings Hwy.</em></span><br /><br />At S 28th Ave. S. we turned off the Grand Strand to the west and then back to 27th Ave. S. 28th Ave. had a bit of incline so I got down in my lowest gears and ground my way slowly up the hill. All the runners I have traveled with down Ocean Blvd. went past and I settled in with a new group after finishing the climb back up to Kings Hwy.<br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 255);font-size:130%;" ><em>Mile 10 (8:34), Mile 11 (8:20) Kings Hwy.</em></span><br /><br />Again I settled in with a group of very supportive runners that passed me on the uphills and I passed them on the downhills. Not to exaggerate; these are minor gradients. I did start to encounter a few self-deafened iPodders that couldn’t hear to move over as I closed in behind them on the downhills. This day, I was less than hesitant to veer into the traffic lane if it was clear when someone didn’t get out of the way. If Ocean Blvd. were Myrtle Beach’s Mecca for tee shirts and sunglasses, King’s Highway is the center for pancake houses and other restaurants. Every couple of blocks there were clumps of spectators that offered great support.<br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 255);font-size:130%;" ><em>Mile 12 (10:27) Joe White Ave.</em></span><br /><br />I got a nice bit of gravity after climbing a little hill on this last stretch of King’s Highway. I cranked hard and coasted around the corner and started a new gradual uphill grade back up Joe White Ave. The mile 12 water stop has historically been run by a group of middle school kids and today they were out in force with a ton of enthusiastic support.<br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 255);font-size:130%;" ><em>Mile 13 (9:52) Grissom Parkway</em></span><br /><br />As we approached the half marathon turn off into Coastal field, the half marathon runners began to pick up their pace as they sprinted toward their finish. When we passed the divider for the turn off the volume of runners fell off by about two thirds. I was hopeful that that would make future passing easier.<br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 255);font-size:130%;" ><em>Mile 14 (12:19) 29th Ave. N.</em></span><br /><br /><table style="width: auto;"><tbody><tr><td><a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/wAksSMmvIpkK6o5vR52nJg?authkey=kjncWpAXmxc&feat=embedwebsite"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaMjLD9Cob1Smdc8D3Uw_XcOZSnHif3XBNSjX9fXWOONT0ZrBWQ4VqSsmi3I-IIl7xG24gAtdx4Yvq80ENzUMhieEZCd1N8sTGi2JsMYFRR8c1u0vQPXSROe4gD-Xx8TxtR7zuf2W_DZ99/s400/DSC_4381.JPG" /></a></td></tr><tr><td style="font-family: arial,sans-serif; font-size: 11px; text-align: right;">From <a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/2008MilesOfHope/MBM09?authkey=kjncWpAXmxc&feat=embedwebsite">MBM09</a></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><br />I met my teammate and stopped to refuel just before the 13.1 split on Grissom Parkway. I ate a Snickers and drank a PowerAde and got back on the road after about a 3 minute rest. Now there were only marathoners left and I settled in with a group of runners that I pretty much stayed with for about five miles. I turned off Grissom and onto N 29th St. and met the 4th place hand cranker on his way to the finish.<br /><br /><table style="width: auto;"><tbody><tr><td><a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/IKl80crFpaph4tNQxG8acw?authkey=kjncWpAXmxc&feat=embedwebsite"><img src="http://lh4.ggpht.com/_o04yXF_g1C0/SZy_68N4BcI/AAAAAAAACX8/oeLO2U8CrQY/s400/DSC_4378.JPG" /></a></td></tr><tr><td style="font-family: arial,sans-serif; font-size: 11px; text-align: right;">From <a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/2008MilesOfHope/MBM09?authkey=kjncWpAXmxc&feat=embedwebsite">MBM09</a></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><br />Others, including my friend David Swaim had already finished in the time it took me to get halfway! As I crossed Kings Highway I could see my friend, Dan-O coming up the street to his 5th place crank finish.<br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 255);font-size:130%;" ><em>Mile 15 (9:26), Mile 16 (9:33), Mile 17 (9:02), Mile 18 (9:12) Ocean Blvd.</em></span><br /><br />This end of the Grand Strand is the residential and condo end of the beach. Only a few spots forced me into my lower gears. It was pretty much just crank and grind throughout the 4 northbound miles. I settled in with a group of runners that would pass me when I slowed for a slight hill; then I would catch them on the downhill side. We got a few conversations going but whenever I got down into my lower gears and slowed down, they would leave me and I would mix into a new group of runners. One runner had “Go Julie” written across the back of her jersey. She and I exchanged encouragement throughout the rest of the race. There were a few spectators out but generally the participants provided each other support.<br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 255);font-size:130%;" ><em>Mile 19 (15:19) 79th Ave. N.</em></span><br /><br />The last stretch along the ocean started with a steep climb and then a steep drop. When we turned up 79th Ave., I once again had to get into my lower gears all the way back to Kings Hwy. Again, I dropped behind the comrades I had traveled with for the last few miles. At King’s Hwy. A policeman said some words of support. I replied with, “Thanks for being here!”<br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 255);font-size:130%;" ><em>Mile 20 (10:05) Parkwood Dr.</em></span><br /><br />The rest of the way west on 79th Ave. was slightly uphill so I couldn’t maintain the pace I had before. At the end of the street we looped through the driveway of a school where the Myrtle Beach Sun News took the notorious picture of me that they published in their Sunday edition last year.<br /><br />The photo was snapped when I was heading for a curb at the end of the bus parking area. I have my head turned hard to the right looking at another (female) runner so I can maneuver right and without running into her. The photographer must have thought I was checking out her backside since the caption published was something like, ‘Handcrank participant slows to look at another runner.’ The picture is cropped such that her backside is all you see of her.<br /><br />My teammate has her own caption for the picture; ‘Handbiker busted checking butt.’ Needless to say, today I had my eyes open for photographers.<br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 255);font-size:130%;" ><em>Mile 21 (7:26) Kings Hwy. </em></span><br /><br />We left turn around in the school and started down Parkwood Dr. Everyone seemed to be a bit relieved at this point because now we were heading back south toward the finish. As we turned east onto 76th Ave. N. I was rewarded with a slight downhill and downwind stretch. I got as far to the left as I could and went a bit faster. Soon I was catching those I had come down Ocean Blvd. As I passed Julie, I yelled, “Go Julie” again. She shouted back, “Welcome back!”<br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 255);font-size:130%;" ><em>Mile 22 (11:24), Mile 23 (7:29), Mile 24 (10:55) Kings Hwy.</em></span><br /><br />About 9:30 it started to rain. It was just a faint mist, almost like a damp fog. It felt good. I wasn’t worried about the temperature now. I knew there was a hot shower waiting for me soon. As we made our way south on Kings Hwy. the rain slowly picked up to a light drizzle. It never rained hard; just enough to soak you thoroughly. A few spectators stuck it out in spite of the rain. The water table volunteers were especially supportive.<br /><br /><a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/5d1VCqvX7y8qyUiQUtKSfw?authkey=kjncWpAXmxc&feat=embedwebsite"><img src="http://lh3.ggpht.com/_o04yXF_g1C0/SZy_3UCJl4I/AAAAAAAACX0/Hti3yz20c6M/s400/DSC_4386.JPG" /></a><br /><br />My teammate rode up on her bicycle about mile 24 and offered my jacket. I declined. I was already wet and not cold yet. Besides, I was slowing down with a headwind and anxious to get this over. She rode along for a couple of miles then headed on back to wait for me at the finish area. What a trooper!<br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 255);font-size:130%;" ><em>Mile 25 (9:53) 29th Ave. N.</em></span><br /><br />Runners were picking up their pace as they turned west on 29th for the last time. Mentally, there was a “home stretch” feeling. The rain had sent most of the spectators home along this stretch. I should have checked to see if the abandoned umbrella had found a new owner.<br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 255);font-size:130%;" ><em>Mile 26 (10:27) Grissom Parkway</em></span><br /><br />As I closed in on mile 26 I dialed up my mother with my Bluetooth earpiece to let her listen in to the sounds of the finish. I caught up with Julie again and we both laughed about finishing together after about 9 miles.<br /><br />A bearded fellow ran up beside me and gave me the greatest surprise. He was a close family friend that I hadn’t seen in many years. Somehow he had heard of my participation and was watching for me. He ran with me up to the finish chute where he veered off while I finished. I hoped to see him on the other side of the finish line but we never did reconnect. His father and mine had served together as Marines, so our families, too, shared a bond. This is one bit of unfinished business from the race; to reconnect with him.<br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 255);font-size:130%;" ><em>Finish (3:27) .35 mile</em></span><br /><br /><table style="width: auto;"><tbody><tr><td><a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/S8lh2fXBr8mHzzNrVKoP8A?authkey=kjncWpAXmxc&feat=embedwebsite"><img src="http://lh6.ggpht.com/_o04yXF_g1C0/SZy_1Ro4_LI/AAAAAAAACXw/uM-FQl-1mfI/s400/DSC_4390.JPG" /></a></td></tr><tr><td style="font-family: arial,sans-serif; font-size: 11px; text-align: right;">From <a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/2008MilesOfHope/MBM09?authkey=kjncWpAXmxc&feat=embedwebsite">MBM09</a></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><br />I know, it’s supposed to be .2 miles, but I never follow the exact path of the course certification, so my GPS always accumulates a little extra distance. They handed us a nice heart-shaped medal (it was Valentine’s Day).<br /><br /><table style="width: auto;"><tbody><tr><td><a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/7dYX_zD2Lh6EE1XLuiWWKw?authkey=kjncWpAXmxc&feat=embedwebsite"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhT-2V4C5hwzBMYfs9PkF_BurTpEPDV0fxu6XsWriYJuZ_zUJiuZBS2HBG8xHAVBcEQMi9W6mFSaQc24eigOUsyp4KdKhzyV74gKzWZEXBHVSDA3-nUBy1aIAWNhGOa1cd2LODQ7POaFD5A/s400/DSC_4404.JPG" /></a></td></tr><tr><td style="font-family: arial,sans-serif; font-size: 11px; text-align: right;">From <a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/2008MilesOfHope/MBM09?authkey=kjncWpAXmxc&feat=embedwebsite">MBM09</a></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><br />My chip time was 4:09:09. Not as good as I had hoped for. And not the 3:51 I did last year nor the 3:41 I did in Jacksonville. I just need to train more before the <a href="http://www.shamrockmarathon.com/">Shamrock</a>.<br /><br /><table style="width: auto;"><tbody><tr><td><a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/jVdgBx7vqgTGc3nYg_0-Gg?authkey=kjncWpAXmxc&feat=embedwebsite"><img src="http://lh3.ggpht.com/_o04yXF_g1C0/SZy_wdRRuWI/AAAAAAAACXo/GWyFn72LXLM/s400/DSC_4406.JPG" /></a></td></tr><tr><td style="font-family: arial,sans-serif; font-size: 11px; text-align: right;">From <a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/2008MilesOfHope/MBM09?authkey=kjncWpAXmxc&feat=embedwebsite">MBM09</a></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><br />One of the sponsors was Chick-Fil-A. I parked under their tent and my teammate bought me a sandwich and found me some hot coffee. It never tasted so good.<br /><br />We searched the finish area for a while for my friend. We didn’t find him and by now the post-race chill was robbing my body heat. We went on back to the motel where I indulged in a half-hour long hot shower.<br /><br />Later that afternoon my teammate and I had a nice steak dinner for our Valentine’s Day date. We were too tired to do anything else so we went back to the motel to rest. We decided we were too tired for the post-race party at House of Blues. About 8 PM we found the results posted on the internet and learned she had placed third in her age group in the 5K. We have been trying to get in touch with the race crew to get her trophy, but that is still another piece of unfinished business.<br /><br />All-in-all a fun race and a great weekend! The <a href="http://www.myrtlebeachonline.com/781/index.html">Sun News</a> did a great job covering the events. Read their coverage. </div><br /><a href="http://www.hopeforthewarriors.org/"><span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 255);font-size:130%;" ><em>Hope For The Warriors</em></span></a><em><span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 255);"> </span></em><br /><br />I race to benefit this outstanding foundation. They look out for wounded warriors and their families in their time of need. It is my promise to raise $26,200 in donations to support their programs.<br /><br />This is America. We can go out and run around the country if we want to. Or stay indoors and watch TV. Only because we have brave men and women who are willing to go stand in harm's way to protect our liberty. And for that I am grateful.<br /><br />Join me in my campaign, 2008 Miles of Hope, to help America's heroes, our wounded warriors and their families.<br /><br />Donate today. You can easily make a donation to <a href="http://www.hopeforthewarriors.org/">Hope For The Warriors</a> by using our secure credit card donation site:<br /><br /><a href="http://www.active.com/donate/2008Miles">2008 Miles of Hope</a><br /><br />Or donate by check. Download our donation form, fill it out, and send it to us with your donation to our address on the form:<br /><br /><a href="http://2008milesofhope.googlepages.com/Donationform.pdf">Donation form.pdf</a><br /><br />And learn about where the money goes: <a href="http://www.hopeforthewarriors.org/">Hope For The Warriors</a>LetsRollhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02704108831138764554noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1195166657047014867.post-26162117024222810782009-02-05T05:57:00.000-08:002009-02-09T16:13:31.986-08:00Fall Races and Jacksonville MarathonFollowers of my blog have probably wondered why the lack of recent posts. I have to start out with my apology for not keeping my many supporters better informed on my progress. October through December has been the cap to one of the most exciting and inspirational years of my life. The period has also been one of the most hectic times of my life. Or so I thought.<br /><br />Then the New Year brought my mother a debilitating infection that almost took her from us. She’s in a rehab facility now, fighting to come back and regain her independence. Unfortunately my blogging and my training have suffered as a result. To bring readers up to date, here’s a report on some of my recent events.<br /><br /><a href="http://www.neuseriverbridgerun.com/"><span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 255);font-size:130%;" ><em>Neuse River Bridge Run</em></span><br /></a><br />In September, I was logging over 360 miles in training including two half centuries in one weekend. Needless to say, I felt in pretty good shape for the <a href="http://2008milesofhope.blogspot.com/2008/10/hope-inspiration-and-renewed-promise.html">Army Ten-Miler</a>. At that point the weather started turning bad, the daylight started becoming shorter, and various activities just started taking more time away from my training. The <a href="http://www.mccslejeune.com/fitness/gpseries.html">Beirut Memoria</a>l run was the second weekend in October. The day of the race it was pouring cats and dogs. Since one stretch of the course goes off road and across a ditch, we didn’t even get out of bed when the alarm went off at 4 AM. The last thing I wanted was to get stuck in the mud. DNS<br /><br />The next weekend was the Neuse River Run. For the locals, this is a pretty big event. For one of my coworkers, JC, this was to be her comeback run after being sidelined last year after having a baby. It’s a scenic point-to-point that starts in Bridgeton, crosses the Neuse and Trent River Bridges, loops around <a href="http://www.tryonpalace.org/">Tryon Palace</a>, the colonial capital of NC, and finishes in downtown New Bern. The view from the bridges is unique and scenic. There’s a 5K also that loops through the historic downtown district.<br /><br />This year it was wet. And cold. And windy.<br /><br /><a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/f7teBkbxjohgXdT7f9DZqQ?authkey=dT4vhkSolRA&feat=embedwebsite"><img src="http://lh6.ggpht.com/_o04yXF_g1C0/SV10yDDE75I/AAAAAAAACT4/zL73AKYeRc4/s400/DSC_3641.JPG" /></a><br /><br />It seemed like I had a headwind every way I turned. I was the only chair again (everyone with sense was home in bed). I got a five minute (I think) head start. I forgot to start the timer on my GPS so I didn’t record my splits. I also didn’t get an accurate timing because the starter never communicated my start time to the timer. The posted time for me was 55:10. I think my time was actually about 1 hour. I think because the starter didn’t inform the timer that I got an advance start, so the timer didn’t break out the chair time, hence no medal. The good news was that my teammate came in 3rd in her division in the 5K!<br /><br /><a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/RxG0IpGp2OCtlj040YlVsw?authkey=dT4vhkSolRA&feat=embedwebsite"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhf-Jo2vwLs6WLPOSV5jZjYqjKtsO3Ew_n96wWwlPRq10K86rymQ3TbTBvpaY__2Z3-yRUC_mBgTK4Pm3KHtOENNJTaeIXf7GNT_kzBouDDyM3vKXgNkDNRgVy_cJclekN5K8E4epVnI4dl/s400/DSC_3648.JPG" /></a><br /><br />Heidi Tucker won the women’s 5K and JC finished first in her division in the 5K. My MCM teammate, SL, finished 2nd in his division in the 5K.<br /><br /><a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/cld8Syek21E1-9cZvmRHww?authkey=dT4vhkSolRA&feat=embedwebsite"><img src="http://lh4.ggpht.com/_o04yXF_g1C0/SV10v0_DqzI/AAAAAAAACT0/Lhl3OTZVmSA/s400/DSC_3652.JPG" /></a><br /><br />We stood around in the cold and the rain waiting for the awards and I managed to develop a bit of hypothermia. All in all not a particularly fun day. A good wake-up call prior to the <a href="http://2008milesofhope.blogspot.com/2008/11/marine-corps-marathon-2008-honored-to.html">MCM </a>and I was able to get in some good workouts the following week.<br /><br />The <a href="http://marinemarathon.com/">MCM </a>was indescribable. I did my best to try with the blog post on that race. I still get emotional thinking back on the race. You should read <a href="http://dctriguy.blogspot.com/2008/10/marine-corps-marathon-2008.html">DCTriGuy</a>’s account of teammate Zach and AJ’s race. Zach and AJ are two WWs that <a href="http://www.hopeforthewarriors.org/mcm2008.html">Hope For The Warriors</a> sponsored into the MCM.<br /><br /><a href="http://cityofoaksmarathon.com/"><span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 255);font-size:130%;" ><em>City of Oaks</em></span></a><span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 255);font-size:130%;" ><em><br /></em></span><br />Oaks was the weekend after the MCM. I thought by now I’d be ready for hills. Too many travel days and too few workouts proved otherwise. I did this half marathon with T- last year. It was a brutal course. This year it was worse. For a wheeler, the ideal course is flat. This race is anything but. The next best scenario for a wheeler is a downhill first part with an uphill second, like the Boston. That gives the wheeler a chance to get some speed early and stay in front of the runners on the downhills. Then when you are in the thick of the runners you’re at a slower speed on the uphills. Well this course doesn’t fit that profile either. In fact they changed the start/finish location this year and made the course (much) worse. On top of that I was only able to get in one substantive workout after the MCM.<br /><br />The City of Oaks folks didn’t seem to care for wheelers too much. In fact, that seemed to be a persistent theme in my fall races with the exception of the MCM. The race started out with a slight uphill grade that turned steep after bout one block.<br /><br /><a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/Af0yljJf8LCfDu6yKTFfPg?authkey=UMYoJYbzgzE&feat=embedwebsite"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEic8kkRY5G7NxEVa-efMeHt5Ub19SSUdU4KyAGIxZOgvTSm1HjxhHMlV9yR4WAFBu8TOK4b13_J3OqOdfu5c4B7Lzppa1gIB0W2UV1DdkE1q0nwyO8AMdtRp9oYxaNSz66-UFinmTRnR8M9/s400/DSC_3964.JPG" /></a><br /><br /><a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/zdLWG_M5kDACHpWIn-qMOg?authkey=UMYoJYbzgzE&feat=embedwebsite"><img src="http://lh3.ggpht.com/_o04yXF_g1C0/SYuZGSSGH8I/AAAAAAAACVM/uqYIPESUvHk/s400/DSC_3968.JPG" /></a><br /><br />The head start for this race was one minute if I recall correctly.<br /><br /><a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/dF8Xw-W26fjzcJAaTslg5A?authkey=UMYoJYbzgzE&feat=embedwebsite"><img src="http://lh4.ggpht.com/_o04yXF_g1C0/SYuZKkyC6XI/AAAAAAAACVU/b2qcED-cAUM/s400/DSC_3973.JPG" /></a><br /><br />By the time I had cranked my way to the top of the first hill, nearly the entire field of runners had passed.<br /><br /><a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/Nez2GIwqv4R-HgpyS-7odw?authkey=UMYoJYbzgzE&feat=embedwebsite"><img src="http://lh6.ggpht.com/_o04yXF_g1C0/SYuZO4gPU7I/AAAAAAAACVc/yrdMJlmhyM4/s400/DSC_3994.JPG" /></a><br /><br /><a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/8OtgKjQ2dG2J-0p9ggZXwQ?authkey=UMYoJYbzgzE&feat=embedwebsite"><img src="http://lh5.ggpht.com/_o04yXF_g1C0/SYuZTKqBnCI/AAAAAAAACVk/EYcHNgw2dhQ/s400/DSC_4039.JPG" /></a><br /><br />Any time I made up on the downhills was made trying to get shout my way around the iPod zombies. Fortunately my teammate was able to ride her bike and guide for me. That was a big help in getting through some congested areas. It is a scenic course through several of Raleigh’s nicer neighborhoods and the downtown district. The full marathoners do an off-road excursion through Umstead Park. Overall it was a tough course. A lot of steep hills.<br /><br /><a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/8L4WD-VXTjoMBCn81YJBGA?authkey=UMYoJYbzgzE&feat=embedwebsite"><img src="http://lh4.ggpht.com/_o04yXF_g1C0/SYuZRLWg0CI/AAAAAAAACVg/VGRxWl0amTs/s400/DSC_4001.JPG" /></a><br /><br /><a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/YuV4QYaxYeTCCarrsC-sCA?authkey=UMYoJYbzgzE&feat=embedwebsite"><img src="http://lh6.ggpht.com/_o04yXF_g1C0/SYuZMV3NU5I/AAAAAAAACVY/3OH-K8-my3o/s400/DSC_3979.JPG" /></a><br /><br />One good aspect of going up hills was that the rest to visit with family spectators was welcome. The other runners and spectators were great. I got a little inspirational boost toward the end when Heidi passed me toward the finish. While it was good to see another home-town runner, it was a little disheartening to remember that she was finishing the full marathon.<br /><br /><a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/Dwl2wqONqEuU29h8N4IBPw?authkey=UMYoJYbzgzE&feat=embedwebsite"><img src="http://lh5.ggpht.com/_o04yXF_g1C0/SYuZYBetEBI/AAAAAAAACVw/0zn8lMDuWcg/s400/DSC_4054.JPG" /></a><br /><br /><a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/ILa_mOHew3F00rzwQBtprg?authkey=UMYoJYbzgzE&feat=embedwebsite"><img src="http://lh4.ggpht.com/_o04yXF_g1C0/SYuZVYs3kRI/AAAAAAAACVs/KIuAWm3GWEU/s400/DSC_4047.JPG" /></a><br /><br />My time was 3:07. Not a good one for me but given the hills and my lack of training it was to be expected. No awards for chairs again this year. At least they had a nice finisher medal and hot pizza. My finish was not as heartbreaking as the Kenyans, though, who missed the turn-around for the half. One of them went on to finish the marathon with the best time, but because he was registered for the half, he wasn’t eligible for the prize.<br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 255);font-size:130%;" ><em>From Oaks to Coast</em></span><br /><br />The <a href="http://www.obxmarathon.org/">OBX</a> half was the following weekend. It’s a flat course and the event website advertises that a 35 foot high bridge is the only hill on the course. I was anxious to clock a fast time after the hills ate my lunch at MCM and Oaks. I was also determined to put in a few workouts before the race this time. I always seem to do my best on the third day after two hard workouts. I have a saying about “come-back” workouts. I say, “First day you cry, second day you die, and third day you fly.”<br /><br />The race was on Sunday and we caught the Cedar Island Ferry and drove up the Outer Banks on Friday. On Ocracoke Island I got my teammate to get me on my bike and I rode the 14-mile length of the island. This is undoubtedly my favorite ride. The cool air and ocean breeze felt great.<br /><br /><a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/xJqgNAo94W0wJiplqZKFQQ?authkey=UMYoJYbzgzE&feat=embedwebsite"><img src="http://lh6.ggpht.com/_o04yXF_g1C0/SYuZcfMNlpI/AAAAAAAACV4/fhrQaqL7rOg/s400/DSC_4066.JPG" /></a><br />Event Director Robyn Keenan<br /><br />Friday PM we went to the expo and got settled in our motel. Saturday we drove the course and discovered that 35-foot bridge was more like a 90-foot bridge.<br /><br /><a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/kvGvXA7RapzxxpnFuKB9AA?authkey=UMYoJYbzgzE&feat=embedwebsite"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-Oio6Dfs-KuhhCxUgX7KJV0WsI-xjBrJQLbDxevibMiQWh23gvtKDaN66DIy-L60LxJ9wV_Ax9Iqr0_7iI_G1umYgo9-pKOK7ban7vpAyH_yHZ_MktpgwEhu7meJiW7wG3-sD-24lN-XF/s400/DSC_4057.JPG" /></a><br /><br />Later that morning I got on my bike again and rode the course. The half marathon course winds its way through several residential neighborhoods in Kill Devil Hills and past Jockey’s Ridge. It goes over the main bridge to Manteo, the home of the Lost Colony.<br /><br />Sunday was to be my “fly” day. I got on my crank chair at the motel and started off toward the starting line. My teammate stayed behind to get packed up so we could load up the van and get a late checkout after the race. I arrived at the starting line and met one of the race officials. He was looking for me to let me know I was going to start 20 minutes early. Holy cow! I wasn’t ready. I called my teammate on my cell phone and asked her to expedite.<br /><br /><a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/YChI_o6bhX0_Iyn4r_8t6Q?authkey=UMYoJYbzgzE&feat=embedwebsite"><img src="http://lh5.ggpht.com/_o04yXF_g1C0/SYuZepEnqMI/AAAAAAAACV8/g_5GCjsc1Gk/s400/DSC_4071.JPG" /></a><br /><br />I made my way to the start and met my bicycle escorts. I was the only chair (again) although one other has registered but didn’t show. Someone helped me out of my jacket I had worn from the motel and I drank an energy drink I had brought with me. About that time my teammate arrived, just a few minutes before my start.<br /><br />The weather was perfect, sunny and a bit chilly. There was some discussion back and forth between the race officials regarding who was the timing official and who was the starting official. It only served to confuse me because I then heard the announce get the crowd to shout a ready, set, go. I hate to disappoint anyone but not knowing if that was the start or not, I waited until the timer said to go ahead.<br /><br /><a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/rQ237gmSq67jhtKQQ_1k-g?authkey=UMYoJYbzgzE&feat=embedwebsite"><img src="http://lh5.ggpht.com/_o04yXF_g1C0/SYuZgV841SI/AAAAAAAACWA/zMvYMTPocXk/s400/DSC_4078.JPG" /></a><br /><br />I launched with my usual slow roll and a yee-ha!<br /><br /><a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/VlgQub6QAd5EDLP4ohZDXg?authkey=UMYoJYbzgzE&feat=embedwebsite"><img src="http://lh5.ggpht.com/_o04yXF_g1C0/SYuZiZ5Ux-I/AAAAAAAACWE/MImgMYTATI4/s400/DSC_4084.JPG" /></a><br /><br />Only a handful of spectators were out that time of the morning so my bike escorts and I pretty much owned the road.<br /><br /><a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/0lALmQOD9N5i5EHPWRufQg?authkey=UMYoJYbzgzE&feat=embedwebsite"><img src="http://lh3.ggpht.com/_o04yXF_g1C0/SYuZpIsbqJI/AAAAAAAACWQ/27lpfEkPPMM/s400/DSC_4085.JPG" /></a><br /><br />With a twenty-minute lead, it was fairly far along before the Kenyans passed me. I was almost at the bridge before the lead female passed.<br /><br /><a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/oUnHmT2Ul3kgsNmIyIrHFw?authkey=UMYoJYbzgzE&feat=embedwebsite"><img src="http://lh3.ggpht.com/_o04yXF_g1C0/SYuZlGTLCYI/AAAAAAAACWI/p_1vGdEqFz4/s400/DSC_4090.JPG" /></a><br /><br /><a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/dimVzhNQ8b_PBrhAro49oQ?authkey=UMYoJYbzgzE&feat=embedwebsite"><img src="http://lh6.ggpht.com/_o04yXF_g1C0/SYuZnHtuhfI/AAAAAAAACWM/u4UyhRReESY/s400/DSC_4097.JPG" /></a><br /><br />I was having a pretty good day. Not a PR, but considering my recent (lack of) training schedule, not bad. On the way up the bridge I made a strategy with my bike escorts. I stayed on the left side of the runner’s lane. As I neared the top, one escort would go on to the top and begin warning the runners to stay right going down the bridge, (particularly the iPodders). As I started down, he would go ahead and the other would lead by about thirty meters to warn anyone that had forgotten to stay right.<br /><br />It worked without a hitch. Partly because the field of runners was still fairly thin and partly because of the help from the escorts, I was able to make up a good bit of time lost ascending the bridge. I’ll remember that strategy. I made to the community of Manteo and crossed the finish with a time of 1:54:38.<br /><br />There were 1330 marathoners and 2770 half marathoners. Anne Wheatly, a girl from my hometown, won the marathon, and KD, a high school classmate of mine, also finished the half so yeah for the home team! All in all not my best time but a great day and I was starting too feel a little better after my slow times in the hills of Oaks and MCM.<br /><br /><span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 255); font-style: italic;">Dash for Cash</span></span><br /><br />On December 7, I did the Dash for Cash 10-Miler in Greenville. The race is a memorial run named after Army Captain Chris Cash who was KIA in Iraq. Cash was an avid supporter of learning in the community and the race funds a scholarship in his memory.<br /><br />About all I remember about this race was the cold. I remember undressing that night and creating a three-foot pile of the many layers I was wearing. I have to layer my legs heavily in cold weather because they lose heat. I have to be careful to keep from layering up too much on my upper body where I generate a lot of body heat.<br /><br /><a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/6ym7r6f8aPOmvvxbRe_HJA?authkey=UMYoJYbzgzE&feat=embedwebsite"><img src="http://lh3.ggpht.com/_o04yXF_g1C0/SYuZtyIM6mI/AAAAAAAACWY/p1hD9odjRhc/s400/DSC_4169.JPG" /></a><br /><br />It was a cold and windy day. It seemed no matter which way you turned, you were fighting a headwind. The course does a stretch through downtown Greenville then past East Carolina University and back to the Town Commons area where the 5Kers split off and finish. The 10-milers head on out into the countryside for an out-and-back to make up the distance.<br /><br /><a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/csjiWR5jn2MnQ1uY3JsaIw?authkey=UMYoJYbzgzE&feat=embedwebsite"><img src="http://lh6.ggpht.com/_o04yXF_g1C0/SYuZyiiwjZI/AAAAAAAACWg/QsZCkjWuepE/s400/DSC_4193.JPG" /></a><br /><br />I added this race to my schedule at the last minute. I emailed the director and got a response back, “We thought you were going to come.” I guess the word is getting around.<br /><br /><a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/DMuRBip5XZrGeJPEuB4X2A?authkey=UMYoJYbzgzE&feat=embedwebsite"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDm1cZbZplHp0unsmZ4bXLRBSVEa_74IDcrliF1iI5kYEAMr5YD2PF4tvWfGiH_7U30jObDbAFHjGXwWZcte4coY-FeIpxXh132O-yCPkScODE7qEc2fc7w3seuPz2n6oertVbGfiqL9iV/s400/DSC_4171.JPG" /></a><br /><br />I was privileged to be able roll across the starting line with my MCM teammate Ed, who was using his pushrim chair for the very first time.<br /><br />My teammate did the 5K. She, too, was out of practice. She didn’t sprint at the end since she hadn’t been training much. At the end she said there was another lady about her age just in front of her. Turns out she missed placing by about 10 seconds.<br /><br /><a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/3OH93BX-2OIVo4rcE5fHpA?authkey=UMYoJYbzgzE&feat=embedwebsite"><img src="http://lh6.ggpht.com/_o04yXF_g1C0/SYuZ5hw8GuI/AAAAAAAACWs/KCk0ifWdGEE/s400/DSC_4204.JPG" /></a><br /><br /><a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/-kgIfk7qNNvQUYLpQDYslQ?authkey=UMYoJYbzgzE&feat=embedwebsite"><img src="http://lh3.ggpht.com/_o04yXF_g1C0/SYuZ3Ehz9sI/AAAAAAAACWo/XrJefm3x7QQ/s400/DSC_4202.JPG" /></a><br /><br />The finisher “medals” were dogtags with the name of the race stamped on them. Since Ed did the 5K, I got the wheelchair prize for the 10-miler. My time was 1:47:27.<br /><br /><a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/FLtNCMDiwU2aFKuql1wXxw?authkey=UMYoJYbzgzE&feat=embedwebsite"><img src="http://lh5.ggpht.com/_o04yXF_g1C0/SYuZ1EaZjXI/AAAAAAAACWk/LT1s_rhw8sY/s400/DSC_4197.JPG" /></a><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 255);font-size:130%;" ><em>Jacksonville Bank Marathon</em></span><br /><br />Too much Thanksgiving eating, office parties, and sweet food, coupled with an insatiable appetite was wreaking havoc on my weight. I tried to maintain my workout schedule but it seemed something was always getting in the way.<br /><br />On Friday before the race we drove to Jacksonville, drove the course, and had a nice dinner at a Japanese steakhouse. The weather was perfect-just a tiny bit cool. On Saturday we picked up my race number. A local runner’s store organizes the race so they are the expo.<br /><br />I was looking forward to this race because I was going to participate along with another Hope For The Warriors fundraiser, Army Capt. <a href="http://www.active.com/donate/TeamH4W2008/JLynnRunForHopeForTheWarriors">Jason Lynn</a>. Capt. Lynn was also running with some of his West Point classmates. The two of us has been collaborating in preparation for this race for about a month. Between the two of us we had raised over $27,000 in contributions for Hope For The Warriors at that time. Though we had never met in person, we were “virtual” teammates working toward the same goal.<br /><br />Saturday, I had the opportunity to get my tires on the course. My teammate and I drove the course, this time in the daylight, and returned to about mile six. I got on my handbike there and rode about 15 miles of the course. I was able to ride on the only “hill” on the course, a stretch of residential neighborhood where the street drops down to the waterfront along the St. John River. It is a very flat course but it doesn’t take much of a hill to kick my butt, so it was good to try that stretch before the race. I learned which gears to use where and when to shift.<br /><br /><a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/WOaNCUjKAgkVXV0kiB3P3w?authkey=kili2GfGoZI&feat=embedwebsite"><img src="http://lh6.ggpht.com/_iVFEJpOKkJk/SVrQsTzuAbI/AAAAAAAAFAU/GRQK_WJEsbc/s400/DSC_4213.JPG" /></a><br /><br />The Marathon and the Half both started at 7 AM, which was still dark. I’m sure the idea was to beat the Florida mid-day heat. We got to the start and found a place to park although navigating to the starting line in a chair took a bit of resourcefulness. This was again proving to be somewhat of a chair-unfriendly race management crew. I had emailed the race director a few weeks prior and only got a ‘we don’t have a wheelchair division’ response. The director said chairs didn’t like the finish because there was about a quarter mile stretch across a soccer field before entering the stadium at the finish. Several people met me at the start and ask if I was so-and-so. Apparently no one knew how many chairs were registered. Not surprising since there was no place on the registration to enter as a chair, much less a hand crank.<br /><br /><a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/6mn2N8GKtq4oDDx2wdWtDg?authkey=kili2GfGoZI&feat=embedwebsite"><img src="http://lh4.ggpht.com/_iVFEJpOKkJk/SVrQ6VK8OBI/AAAAAAAAFAs/64p07yrbReA/s400/DSC_4219.JPG" /></a><br /><br />It turned out that one other push rimmer showed up. He was a local guy and this was to be his first race. I never saw him after the start but he was expecting to finish in about 3 hours.<br /><br /><a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/UiJq8j1NxDJiA8P2LzLCkw?authkey=kili2GfGoZI&feat=embedwebsite"><img src="http://lh3.ggpht.com/_iVFEJpOKkJk/SVrQdgRmCBI/AAAAAAAAE_0/CzN4KkQMVaY/s400/DSC_4206.JPG" /></a><br /><br />I met Jason, his fellow runners and his family at the start. It was neat to meet them after several months of emailing and collaborating on publicity for our fundraising. One of his teammates, AL, was apparently critically wounded by an IED and lost an eye. We all got some pics and shook hands, exchanged hugs and got lined up at the start. It was getting close to 7 and usually there is some advance start for chairs. Finally some guy walked by and spoke to myself and the other wheelchair and simply said, “I’m going to start you guys in a few minutes.” About five minutes later he appeared again and walked over and said, “you guys can go now.”<br /><br />Unceremoniously, it began. We started south down San Jose Blvd in the dark If there was any wind it was a scant breath from the north. My fellow chair competitor was off in the darkness ahead. I could follow his progress by the police lights from the lead vehicle. I felt good and was glad for the training ride the day before. I cranked hard and enjoyed the solitude for the moment. A few minutes later I heard the starting gun fire some distance behind me and knew the race was officially underway.<br /><br /><a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/GNl5ofLBHKr68zTkQg8KGw?authkey=kili2GfGoZI&feat=embedwebsite"><img src="http://lh3.ggpht.com/_iVFEJpOKkJk/SVrRV-CpilI/AAAAAAAAFBs/4CzK3IR4m_M/s400/DSC_4234.JPG" /></a><br /><br />I realized I hadn’t started my GPS at the start so I didn’t accurately record my splits. I started it about four minutes into the race and tried to sych the lap button at mile one. I can only guess that we got about a two minute start, but don’t know for certain because they never published the chair times accurately adjusted for the lead start. By mile one I knew my time was pretty good; not a DSS pace, but I was happy.<br /><br /><a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/0Xy1pDF5eoOKzkQN21hqEw?authkey=kili2GfGoZI&feat=embedwebsite"><img src="http://lh3.ggpht.com/_iVFEJpOKkJk/SVrQGq3eGSI/AAAAAAAAE_U/b7a2TfEkcic/s400/DSCN0044.JPG" /></a><br /><br />The race proceeds shout along the east shore of the St. John River. It winds along though some nice neighborhoods with some magnificent homes. The old live oak trees provide a tremendous canopy of shade, a welcome feature during any month in Florida. The lead runners passed and we exchanged mutual shouts of encouragement; mine, my signature “Yee-ha!”<br /><br /><a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/IB7iPuIqRUDa08kV51nFLQ?authkey=kili2GfGoZI&feat=embedwebsite"><img src="http://lh6.ggpht.com/_iVFEJpOKkJk/SVrRtmQV1YI/AAAAAAAAFCY/SKdFKFND3m0/s400/DSC_4245.JPG" /></a><br /><br /><a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/Pt70bSw-BfQDdjq5ju8Osw?authkey=kili2GfGoZI&feat=embedwebsite"><img src="http://lh4.ggpht.com/_iVFEJpOKkJk/SVrPvykm8RI/AAAAAAAAE-w/gbDr9cG8sIU/s400/DSCN0036.JPG" /></a><br /><br />We turned off Scott Mill Rd. onto Mandarin Rd., again enjoying the welcome shade. As we approached the turn into Mandarin Park the shade was less and the sun was getting enough elevation to start getting a bit hot. I caught a glimpse of a coworker who is from Jax and who was in the area visiting her family.<br /><br /><a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/tCbwRgI3y5hm731iRUhoEA?authkey=kili2GfGoZI&feat=embedwebsite"><img src="http://lh6.ggpht.com/_iVFEJpOKkJk/SVrSD_7YxMI/AAAAAAAAFDA/f5F1wrp3a8A/s400/DSC_4254.JPG" /></a><br /><br />A little later, at the turn around in Mandarin Park, I met my teammate who had a welcome Snickers bar and an energy drink.<br /><br /><a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/rkYN4peXjbd76rYKiva_ig?authkey=kili2GfGoZI&feat=embedwebsite"><img src="http://lh4.ggpht.com/_iVFEJpOKkJk/SVrSYuCj_hI/AAAAAAAAFDg/K-9Is5A-Gxo/s400/DSC_4262.JPG" /></a><br /><br />As I headed back I met Jason and his Army buddies. They were still smiling and looking good.<br /><br /><a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/mhd3qSrooulsURIHdWScvA?authkey=kili2GfGoZI&feat=embedwebsite"><img src="http://lh5.ggpht.com/_iVFEJpOKkJk/SVrShvpAzTI/AAAAAAAAFD0/UL4hY3hBvqo/s400/DSC_4266.JPG" /></a><br /><br />I was settling into a group of the same runners now and we were striking up some conversations. The trip back up Brady Rd. offered plenty of shade. The sun was getting warm although the air was still cool. By the time I got back to the I-295 overpass on Scott Mill Rd. I asked one of the volunteers at the water station to dump a cup of water on me. It was nice and cold.<br /><br />It was a routine crank and grind back to the finish area. There I got a rude surprise. To get to the soccer field you had to first cross a dirt parking lot. The previous day there was some construction taking place in the lot and the dirt was loose and soft. I got into my low gears and had enough momentum to get across the dirt to the grass. At that point the course didn’t go as it had been described to me.<br /><br /><a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/kozss8lyy6oOGFemxWPknQ?authkey=kili2GfGoZI&feat=embedwebsite"><img src="http://lh5.ggpht.com/_iVFEJpOKkJk/SVrSuRA9qxI/AAAAAAAAFEM/H8V7T1XHorM/s400/DSC_4272.JPG" /></a><br /><br />Instead of turning right and going straight into the stadium, we looped around to the left behind one softball field and back across another. The areas behind the fields were covered with soft dry sand about the consistency of a beach sand dune. When I got off the grass, my wheels literally sunk. And I stopped.<br /><br />I had to get help across the sand in two different spots. I later emailed the race director. I suggested he could easily modify the course in the future and could get rid of the sandy spots if the course went straight from the soccer field into the stadium and the turnarounds were extended a bit. He wasn’t interested.<br /><br />Once in the stadium there was a timing mat which I avoided. I thought that it was there for the 13 mile split for the half marathoners. Turns out it read your chip so the announcer could call out your name. So I finished in anonymity.<br /><br /><a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/jhq0ZFucMUqfgM0m98MCWQ?authkey=kili2GfGoZI&feat=embedwebsite"><img src="http://lh3.ggpht.com/_iVFEJpOKkJk/SVrTBeyDwKI/AAAAAAAAFEs/QRRF6h-K5WE/s400/DSC_4280.JPG" /></a><br /><br />My time, I think, was 3:41. The clock read 3:39, but I never got an accurate posting of the time including the wheelchair advance start. I had hoped for a few minutes faster. I had been able to do 3:30 in training last summer. But after my times in the hills of Arlington and Raleigh, I was happy. And it was a PR.<br /><br /><a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/VdKn7_9uSyi_6PLkgG9pHg?authkey=kili2GfGoZI&feat=embedwebsite"><img src="http://lh3.ggpht.com/_iVFEJpOKkJk/SVrTnFUIvMI/AAAAAAAAFFo/lypKGQ-eb8Y/s400/DSC_4294.JPG" /></a><br /><br />Jason finishes strong<br /><br /><a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/Sy4RKFwFvPBThnwg9YEefw?authkey=kili2GfGoZI&feat=embedwebsite"><img src="http://lh3.ggpht.com/_iVFEJpOKkJk/SVrUGk-GnKI/AAAAAAAAFGg/r3P0LSkwAqU/s400/DSC_4307.JPG" /></a><br /><br />Teammates<br /><br /><a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/JBZHWwNAokxQ5zP3nCis_A?authkey=kili2GfGoZI&feat=embedwebsite"><img src="http://lh4.ggpht.com/_iVFEJpOKkJk/SVrULRR8kGI/AAAAAAAAFGo/8fERScSOq3g/s400/DSC_4309.JPG" /></a><br /><br />Because we can!<br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 255);font-size:130%;" ><em>What’s next?</em></span><br /><br />See my 09 races on the sidebar. Next week is the <a href="http://www.mbmarathon.com/">Myrtle Beach Marathon</a>. Last year it was my first marathon. I was stronger then than I am now. I hope to do as well as last year. In March, join us at the <a href="http://www.shamrockmarathon.com/">Shamrock</a>.<br /><br />In October I’ll be at the MCM again, the Lord willing. In November, I plan to do the <a href="http://www.nycmarathon.org/home/index.php">ING NYC</a>. Last year I did four marathons, six halves, and two 10-milers. The good folks at Camp Lejeune recognized me again this year in their <a href="http://www.mccslejeune.com/fitness/gpseries.html">Grand Prix</a> awards.<br /><br />This year I plan to do five marathons.<br /><br /><em><span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 255);font-size:130%;" >Why? </span></em><br /><br />I do it to show my respect for the brave men and women wounded in the Global War On Terror. For seven years, their selfless sacrifices have kept the wolf away from our door. I enjoy the freedom to do the things I do because of them.<br /><br />Do not let their sacrifices be forgotten…nor their needs go unmet. Help out with whatever amount you can donate.<br /><br />In the words of <a href="http://www.hopeforthewarriors.org/">Hope For The Warriors</a> President, Robin Kelleher, “While the country seems to think we've got this covered, we really don't.” She said the organization received $10,000 worth of requests in 2007 to aid injured soldiers. In 2008, the need has exceeded $200,000, she said. –Virginian-Pilot<br /><br /><a href="http://www.hopeforthewarriors.org/"><span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 255);font-size:130%;" ><em>Hope For The Warriors</em></span></a><em><span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 255);"> </span></em><br /><br />I race to benefit this outstanding foundation. They look out for wounded warriors and their families in their time of need. It is my promise to raise $26,200 in donations to support their programs.<br /><br />This is America. We can go out and run around the country if we want to. Or stay indoors and watch TV. Only because we have brave men and women who are willing to go stand in harm's way to protect our liberty. And for that I am grateful.<br /><br />Join me in my campaign, 2008 Miles of Hope, to help America's heroes, our wounded warriors and their families.<br /><br />Donate today. You can easily make a donation to <a href="http://www.hopeforthewarriors.org/">Hope For The Warriors</a> by using our secure credit card donation site:<br /><br /><a href="http://www.active.com/donate/2008Miles">2008 Miles of Hope</a><br /><br />Or donate by check. Download our donation form, fill it out, and send it to us with your donation to our address on the form:<br /><br /><a href="http://2008milesofhope.googlepages.com/Donationform.pdf">Donation form.pdf</a><br /><br />And learn about where the money goes: <a href="http://www.hopeforthewarriors.org/">Hope For The Warriors</a><br /><br />You can help—they gave for you.LetsRollhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02704108831138764554noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1195166657047014867.post-21828337100695692282008-11-03T11:38:00.000-08:002008-11-16T16:40:06.391-08:00Marine Corps Marathon 2008: Honored to be free because of the brave<span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 255);font-size:130%;" ><em><a href="http://www.hopeforthewarriors.org/mcm2008.html">Team Hope For The Warriors</a></em></span><br /><div><div><div><div></div><br /><div>The <a href="http://marinemarathon.com/">Marine Corps Marathon</a> 2008 was many things to me. It was a fulfillment of a dream. It was a lot of fun. It was one of the primary goals of 2008 Miles of Hope. And for me, personally, it was a public way to symbolically say “thanks” to America’s wounded warriors.<br /><br />On Saturday, October 25, 2008 <a href="http://www.hopeforthewarriors.org/mcm2008.html">Team Hope For The Warriors</a> formally assembled for the first time as a group. After months of preparation for the <a href="http://marinemarathon.com/">Marine Corps Marathon</a> we met face to face, many for the first time, for the pre-marathon ritual, the pasta dinner.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://lh4.ggpht.com/_o04yXF_g1C0/SQ-2txOlr3I/AAAAAAAACRo/2XztYa4qX5Q/s400/DSC_3693.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="http://lh4.ggpht.com/_o04yXF_g1C0/SQ-2txOlr3I/AAAAAAAACRo/2XztYa4qX5Q/s400/DSC_3693.JPG" alt="" border="0" /></a><br />T- and I used the opportunity to meet with our curb crews, our family and friends, and go over our support strategy. I wanted to cross the finish line with T- to fulfill a pact we had made two years prior. The coordination would be difficult as she would cross the starting line about thirty minutes after me and my speed would be much slower than hers going up the hills. I doubted I would make up much speed on the downhill because of the volume of runners I would have to pass. I predicted I would finish around 6:20. I expected T- and I would pass each other about four times before we converged and could stay together at the flat part of the course. We charted times and Metro stations so our crews would know where to find us. My coworker, SL, was there with members of his family from several states. They had made the journey together to sightsee in DC before being there for him during his first marathon.<br /><br />We were honored by the presence of NYFD firemen who are greatly supportive of <a href="http://www.hopeforthewarriors.org/">Hope For The Warriors</a>. These everyday American Heroes have been helpful to <a href="http://www.hopeforthewarriors.org/">Hope For The Warriors</a> in their fundraising efforts and in carrying out their <a href="http://www.hopeforthewarriors.org/hopemorale.html">Warrior Hope and Morale</a> program.<br /><br />The greatest honor was to be able to participate alongside four wounded warriors. Chris is an active-duty Marine and the Operations Officer at the <a href="http://www.iimefpublic.usmc.mil/public/iimefpublic.nsf/UnitSites/wwbne">Marine Wounded Warrior Battalion Detachment East</a>. Ed is a former coworker and a Guardsman and after losing a leg in Iraq is active around the country as an advocate forthe needs of the wounded warriors.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://lh5.ggpht.com/_o04yXF_g1C0/SQ-2mmsX8yI/AAAAAAAACRk/l1cge4X4Dlg/s400/DSC_3701.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="http://lh5.ggpht.com/_o04yXF_g1C0/SQ-2mmsX8yI/AAAAAAAACRk/l1cge4X4Dlg/s400/DSC_3701.JPG" alt="" border="0" /></a><br />Our special honorees were AJ, an Army Captain and Zach, a Marine, both amputees. The four men all handbiked the race. Zach was honored with a “birthday” cake to celebrate his first anniversary of his <em>“alive day.”</em><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 255);font-size:130%;" ><em>Twenty-six<br /></em></span><br />The day started off with perfect weather. After getting to bed late, I had a fitful night’s sleep. When the alarm clock went off, my eyes were wide open. I said to my teammate, “This is the day we have been working toward for two years!”<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://lh6.ggpht.com/_o04yXF_g1C0/SQ-Tz4DnwcI/AAAAAAAACPU/srLi7U-wIyI/s400/DSC_3707.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="http://lh6.ggpht.com/_o04yXF_g1C0/SQ-Tz4DnwcI/AAAAAAAACPU/srLi7U-wIyI/s400/DSC_3707.JPG" alt="" border="0" /></a><br />We knew it was cool outside. We peeked out the window to see if the wind was blowing. The flags at the hotel were limp. Things were looking good. We got dressed and went downstairs for some breakfast. I was still full from the night before. Or maybe nervousness made me feel that way. In any case, I couldn’t eat like I usually do before a big ride.<br /><br />We got me loaded onto my bike. The Achilles group was staying at the same hotel. They had about twenty handbikers and wheelchairs. I wanted to follow them to the start since I wasn’t sure of the way. They were off before I was ready, so I set off on my own. I should have just backtracked the course down Wilson Boulevard but I ended up following a gaggle of runners and meandering through the finish area. I had to get some Marines to lift the bike over a curb but I eventually made it out to Highway 110 and rode down to the start.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-style: italic;font-size:85%;" >Photo by Dr.C-<br /></span></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxg8geZqcFi9Up6ULQD_TsqpFGyVbfyk4rXC7aqy2RL8Y_4DAgVBcV_-Fghe6iSA1qLR6P0FfU7oFd66P5RY8GBTEG3U1iAJj6pXWX966s1-UpNzv34YMkIrW6JYriKuAkOuKny3HpMV2T/s576/IMG_0003.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 432px; height: 576px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxg8geZqcFi9Up6ULQD_TsqpFGyVbfyk4rXC7aqy2RL8Y_4DAgVBcV_-Fghe6iSA1qLR6P0FfU7oFd66P5RY8GBTEG3U1iAJj6pXWX966s1-UpNzv34YMkIrW6JYriKuAkOuKny3HpMV2T/s576/IMG_0003.JPG" alt="" border="0" /></a><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-style: italic;font-size:85%;" ></span><span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 255);font-size:130%;" ><em></em></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://lh4.ggpht.com/_o04yXF_g1C0/SQ-UEOQU2CI/AAAAAAAACPY/4jiuvOU_UPU/s400/DSC_3713.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="http://lh4.ggpht.com/_o04yXF_g1C0/SQ-UEOQU2CI/AAAAAAAACPY/4jiuvOU_UPU/s400/DSC_3713.JPG" alt="" border="0" /></a><br /></div>I saw my friend David Swaim at the starting line. He had opted to use his handbike at this race instead of his wheelchair. As an indication of the popularity of handbikes, this year there were only six wheelchair racers and 34 handbikes even though the handbikes are an “unofficial” division at the MCM. I tried to seed in near the rear of the wheelers since I am typically much slower than the rest. It was impossible not to be inspired by this field of athletes with disabilities.<br />I saw Zach, AJ, and Chris out at the starting line. They looked like they were going to have as much fun as me. I also saw Dr. C- again at this race. He is another source of my personal inspiration and today he had come out to take pics on the course. It was great to see him. I looked at my watch and started getting nervous. We were 10 minutes away from starting. A lone V-22 Osprey did the opening fly-by. A Marine color guard presented colors and the national anthem was sung. I could hear Ken Berger over the PA announce, “Get set!”<br /><br />A salute gun fired and we were off. I yanked on the cranks, but in my mind I savored the moment. This was the world’s fourth largest marathon. This was my dream and the object of my toil for two years. And this quadriplegic was rolling across the starting line!<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-style: italic;font-size:85%;" >Photo by Dr.C-</span></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://lh3.ggpht.com/_o04yXF_g1C0/SQ-5PByje-I/AAAAAAAACR0/EJzlfbnJ5do/s512/IMG_0018.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 512px; height: 384px;" src="http://lh3.ggpht.com/_o04yXF_g1C0/SQ-5PByje-I/AAAAAAAACR0/EJzlfbnJ5do/s512/IMG_0018.JPG" alt="" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 255);font-size:130%;" ><em></em></span>I make no bones about not being fast. I tell friends I’m only half fast (don’t say that too quickly). In a blink, all the wheelers were gone and I was bringing up the back of the pack. But I was just beginning to have fun. My teammate yelled to me and took some pictures. She was having fun, too. After all, this had been the object of her toil for two years, too.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1gHpfP8XJPOT90aZZ_B8dl6_EPgKcI30ZSB5MeJLGyJPouSLYPZTxApFVrVy4TsblfqILL30yWCc7I-5jyEDzkdPFoggn9LzgJcPxTzBKymcKP2nuphISjx7zzVPawDzxl1_ipGcXVXDq/s512/DSC_3723.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 512px; height: 361px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1gHpfP8XJPOT90aZZ_B8dl6_EPgKcI30ZSB5MeJLGyJPouSLYPZTxApFVrVy4TsblfqILL30yWCc7I-5jyEDzkdPFoggn9LzgJcPxTzBKymcKP2nuphISjx7zzVPawDzxl1_ipGcXVXDq/s512/DSC_3723.JPG" alt="" border="0" /></a><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-style: italic;font-size:85%;" >Photo by Dr.C-</span></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://lh6.ggpht.com/_o04yXF_g1C0/SQ-5RYzNUyI/AAAAAAAACR4/u0tArebzehs/s512/IMG_0019.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 512px; height: 384px;" src="http://lh6.ggpht.com/_o04yXF_g1C0/SQ-5RYzNUyI/AAAAAAAACR4/u0tArebzehs/s512/IMG_0019.JPG" alt="" border="0" /></a><br />As I approached mile one I ran into the first of the hills that would occupy my efforts for the next hour. Again, I savored the moment. There was no one else around. I was in a low gear and crawling up Wilson Boulevard toward Lynn Street. The spectators were all shouting. In my mind I remembered my thoughts two years ago when I was a spectator: “I think I can do that!”<br /><br />As I <em>crawled</em> up to Lynn Street, the lead runners approached from the rear. This was not like most races I had run. Instead of a trickle of elite runners at the head of the race it seemed like the entire field was comprised of elite runners. Normally the spectators were yelling at this point. Today all the runners were yelling too. The sound was almost deafening. I know I was plodding along slowly up that first hill. Many probably wondered if I would even finish at the speed I was going. There was no doubt in my mind with support like this.<br /><br />I’ve heard the term, “the spirit of the race,” before but never experienced it like this. The cacophony from the other runners continued up Lee Highway until nearly the entire field had passed me by. Several of the other <a href="http://www.hopeforthewarriors.org/">Hope For The Warriors</a> charity runners stopped by to check on me and offer their support. About three-fourths the way up, my niece, T- came along and stopped. She was doing great so she kept going. I had planned to catch her later along Canal Road. I was going slowly but I wasn’t tiring. At several dips along Lee Highway I had the opportunity to make up some time. I’d yell at the top of my lungs, “passing on your right!” Even now the runners helped me along by relaying the warning on up the street. They would even grab the “iPod zombies” by the arm and lead them away from interference.<br /><br />By the time I crested the peak of Lee Highway, I was well in the rear of the field of runners. It had taken the better part of an hour to get here, but that was exactly what I had expected. I had trained by going back and forth over the Atlantic Beach Bridge for several laps before embarking on some long rides in high winds on Bogue Banks. I was still hyped up, I had great inspiration from other runners, and I was about to get a welcome rest down Spout Run and GW Parkways.<br /><br />If I hadn’t been in a race, I would have loved to lollygag and sightsee. It was a GORGEOUS day and the trees were ablaze with their fall colors. This, in my opinion, was one of the most beautiful stretches of the course. I was not coasting as fast as gravity wanted me to. I yelled at the top of my voice to warn the other runners and had to stop for a few comatose iPodders that couldn’t hear me. By now I was losing my voice and as of this writing, it still isn’t fully recovered. For the most part I was not going much faster than the runners.<br /><br />I think my 5K split was right around an hour, but that was OK; it was about what I planned. I don’t know my splits because I inadvertently turned off my GPS at some point. Also for some reason, the timing mats weren’t picking up splits either. The <a href="http://www.hopeforthewarriors.org/">Hope For The Warriors</a> crew was getting worried about me and called my teammate to find out if I was still in play. By mile four, everyone was pretty well thinned out on the Key Bridge. I saw my sister and my teammate. They gave me an update on T-. They said she was not far ahead and was doing well.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://lh4.ggpht.com/_o04yXF_g1C0/SQ-VkVAjTWI/AAAAAAAACPk/SR6el9pOMPs/s512/DSC_3763_1.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 512px; height: 340px;" src="http://lh4.ggpht.com/_o04yXF_g1C0/SQ-VkVAjTWI/AAAAAAAACPk/SR6el9pOMPs/s512/DSC_3763_1.JPG" alt="" border="0" /></a><br />Along Canal Road I made good progress, much as I had predicted. I was able to work my way through the other runners and we were beginning to chat and recognize each other after we had passed each other a few times. Up ahead I recognized the familiar crimson and gold running outfit of 82-year old Nick Irrera. He is a regular inspiration at many of the local races I take part in. This was his 28th MCM. He was featured in the MCM program and had been inducted into the MCM hall of fame. I slowed and shared a few moments in his run, expressing my appreciation for his inspiring example.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://lh4.ggpht.com/_o04yXF_g1C0/SQ-zkwSpL9I/AAAAAAAACRc/dQDbEWjh5QM/s800/DSC_3753.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 502px; cursor: pointer; height: 800px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://lh4.ggpht.com/_o04yXF_g1C0/SQ-zkwSpL9I/AAAAAAAACRc/dQDbEWjh5QM/s800/DSC_3753.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /></div>Soon I caught T- and stayed with her for a while. She was bubbly and having a great time. I admonished her to eat energy food BEFORE she needed it. I reminded her that my teammate had Snickers up ahead. This time I went ahead. I knew there was another steep climb on Reservoir Road ahead where she would pass me again. Then I would catch her again and we would stay together for the flat part of the course. So far I was keeping up with my plan.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiW8W-k-LlKmF6H1GC2VoBdUtfEBl8lR7sKDB_0-rtuPuay6YNUTgmRyMJMQZhGwogUHEqRHVj1Q-H_jpo3Div7elbK6Ts2CWBlWd8k7l2VcWoLH-zhQKVWl9QRXYJroOE1sdnCxSRGvRgE/s512/DSC_3755.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 512px; height: 340px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiW8W-k-LlKmF6H1GC2VoBdUtfEBl8lR7sKDB_0-rtuPuay6YNUTgmRyMJMQZhGwogUHEqRHVj1Q-H_jpo3Div7elbK6Ts2CWBlWd8k7l2VcWoLH-zhQKVWl9QRXYJroOE1sdnCxSRGvRgE/s512/DSC_3755.JPG" alt="" border="0" /></a><br />At Reservoir Road I extended a bit to make a wide turn without cutting off any runners. I got in my lowest gear and began grinding up a very steep climb. T- caught up and passed me again. So did hundreds of other runners with whom I had been leapfrogging. Even though I got past the really steep part, there was a steady climb until McArthur Boulevard. Somewhere along the way someone was cooking bacon in their home and the delicious aroma was wafting through the runners. At McArthur I tried to pick up speed again as the course turned steeply downhill. It seemed like the road narrowed. The runners were too thick to pass in spots.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRcD6Z87w-YDYXZ8HOXAbsSCWpYBnsqPjigoSDZg00tWFEjwUSKg0ZzHsjSY4ySfmHVvJF_HtzU6aei4SK09Yj1f1DetWA5hzzF4ILg5WFZyrpm7hOcItN3Fw32s_7BInBlX9jAHpAP5Gz/s512/DSC_3790.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 512px; height: 340px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRcD6Z87w-YDYXZ8HOXAbsSCWpYBnsqPjigoSDZg00tWFEjwUSKg0ZzHsjSY4ySfmHVvJF_HtzU6aei4SK09Yj1f1DetWA5hzzF4ILg5WFZyrpm7hOcItN3Fw32s_7BInBlX9jAHpAP5Gz/s512/DSC_3790.JPG" alt="" border="0" /></a><br />When we got back to M Street, things opened up a bit and I was able to add some speed. I saw my teammate and stopped to chat. I was about two minutes ahead of my predicted schedule. I took off, trying to chase down T-. When I finally caught her I planned to hang with her, at least until late in the race. The course opened up and I poured it on to try to chase down T-.<br /><br />Water stops are always a problem for me. On the open road, everyone moves pretty much in the same direction and, for the most part, at the same speed. At the water stops, people start, stop, and run sideways. I’ve learned to slow down to a walking pace and stay as far from the tables as possible. All of the water stops were manned by Marines in this race. The water stops were a good opportunity to slow down and thank the Marine volunteers.<br /><br />Along the Potomac Parkway I began to get a little panicky as I searched for T-. As a result I tended to go faster to catch up with her. I thought I would have seen her by this time. All of the sudden, Dr. C- came running alongside. He said he would be in this area to take pics but I hadn’t been able to find him either. It was great to see another familiar face out on the course.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-style: italic;font-size:85%;" >Photo by Dr.C-</span></div><div style="text-align: right;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://lh5.ggpht.com/_o04yXF_g1C0/SQ-5Uho7-2I/AAAAAAAACR8/q3ORwsFuRjg/s512/IMG_0041.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 512px; height: 384px;" src="http://lh5.ggpht.com/_o04yXF_g1C0/SQ-5Uho7-2I/AAAAAAAACR8/q3ORwsFuRjg/s512/IMG_0041.JPG" alt="" border="0" /></a><br /></div>Dr. C- got some great photos out on the course and then went back to the finish area to wait for me. Since my splits weren’t registering, the USAA runner tracking folks had no records of my existence out on the course. The <a href="http://www.hopeforthewarriors.org/">Hope For The Warriors</a> staff was still worried. It was as if I had disappeared out there. No one but my teammate (and I) seemed to know where I was. I was out there having the time of my life!<br /><br />About mile 10 a water stop was set up with a table in the middle of the street. All of the runners seemed to be going through one side. All of the Marines were on that side. It looked awfully crowded to me. It also looked like I could go through the other side without having to slow down. That was exactly what I did. Maybe all the water stops need an “express traffic” lane.<br /><br />Haynes Point was a great ride. Maybe I’m biased because it’s flat. Most runners don’t seem to like it because of the lack of spectators. I made good time, but still no T-. The next spot my teammate and I planned to meet was at Maine Avenue after exiting Haynes Point. It turned out she didn’t get there in time from the Metro. I did, however, see T-'s boyfriend. He gave me an update.<br /><br />Back at the water stop with the “express lane,” T- was IN the water stop on the right when I went AROUND the water stop on the left. As luck would have it, the spot where I opted to make up time to catch her was where I passed her. She seemed to be doing fine and by now I was far enough ahead of her that it didn’t make sense to wait up. Oh well, plans for coordinating times and speeds between runners in a marathon never seem to work.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://lh4.ggpht.com/_o04yXF_g1C0/SQ-Wc0Z5rwI/AAAAAAAACPs/wnoL2GiR1yw/s640/DSC_3803.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 425px; height: 640px;" src="http://lh4.ggpht.com/_o04yXF_g1C0/SQ-Wc0Z5rwI/AAAAAAAACPs/wnoL2GiR1yw/s640/DSC_3803.JPG" alt="" border="0" /></a><br />The trip through downtown DC was, in a word, monumental. The spectators were great (and loud). Sometimes they were so enthusiastic I couldn’t pass because I couldn’t yell loud enough over their din to warn runners in front. Hey, this day was about finishing and having fun, not passing everyone out there. Many of the spectators were handing out candy. My teammate had brought along about five pounds of Snickers which she handed out on the mall. Some of the runners looked at her like she was crazy. Most grabbed them with the gratitude of a starving person.<br /><br />As I came back down Jefferson Dr. I was beginning to feel a little tired for the first time. I speed dialed my teammate and asked her to meet me at 14th Street with a Snickers. I could hear a big “oops” in her tone of voice. She had just given away her last Snickers. Fortunately, the Snickers folks at the expo had given her a Marathon bar that she still carried in her backpack. They don’t taste as good as the candy bar but I think I could have eaten an old asphalt shingle at that point. Off I went again down 14th Street.<br /><br />The 14th Street Bridge isn’t as much fun as I wished it would be. I had the same experience at the ATM. It’s a hot stretch. It was really the first time on the course that I felt like I might overheat. I wasn’t worried about heat stroke at these temperatures. I was only worried that a little bit of heat would sap a lot of my energy. I wanted all my energy at that 14% grade at the finish.<br /><br />Ray, a runner that carries a big American flag, stood in the center of the bridge waving the flag and cheering the runners. As I came by, he offered a salute to the flag I bore. We exited the bridge into Crystal City. I pulled into a water stop and pulled over at the end of the farthest table. I asked a lieutenant to pour a couple of cups of water into my helmet. As I told the Marines all along the course, I said to this Marine, “Thanks for being here!” It seems like Marines do that; they are there when we need them.<br /><br />Being pretty well soaked, I didn’t have to worry about overheating anymore. I went on through Crystal City. If you thrive on spectator noise, this leg was for you. The sounds echo off the tall buildings and make the spirit even more powerful. On leaving Army-Navy Drive I pulled over for the last time to drink my last energy drink. I wanted to be ready for the hill. For the rest of the ride back to mile 26 I took it easy.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://lh4.ggpht.com/_o04yXF_g1C0/SQ-W53TFRcI/AAAAAAAACPw/GBFzDuNxFYY/s512/DSC_3823.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 512px; height: 340px;" src="http://lh4.ggpht.com/_o04yXF_g1C0/SQ-W53TFRcI/AAAAAAAACPw/GBFzDuNxFYY/s512/DSC_3823.JPG" alt="" border="0" /></a><br />Miles 25 and 26 were somewhat reminiscent of mile 1. They were kind of quiet. Most of the runners were depleted. No one had the energy to chat. As we looped around the Pentagon and returned past the starting line, it was another time to reflect. In the dark hours of the morning we had all crawled out of bed and made our way to this point. We were all driven, not only the last twenty-six miles, but through all the days of our training by a motivating influence.<br /><br />For this quadriplegic the driving motivation was two-fold; first, a chance to personally pay tribute to our Nation’s brave men and women wounded while protecting our liberty; and secondly, to personally make a public statement that life with a disability is not a life filled with despair. It is a life filled with hope.<br /><br />My own thoughts from two years prior again echoed in my head, “I think I can do that.” <em>And now I’m doing it!</em><br /><br />My mother is eighty. She can’t make it to most of my races but has been a tremendous supporter. I had been trying to devise a means for her to share my finish for weeks. Suddenly an idea came to me. I speed dialed her on my Bluetooth earpiece. “I can’t talk to you right now, but in a few seconds you’ll hear a lot of noise. That will be the sound of the finish. I’ll leave the phone on so you can listen in.”<br /><br />Already I could hear shouts from my teammate and the <a href="http://www.hopeforthewarriors.org/">Hope For The Warriors</a> staff waiting near the finish. At the intersection of Highway 110 and Marshall Drive, I put my handbike in its lowest gear and turned left. “I <em>KNOW</em> I can do that!”<br /><br /><em><span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 255);"><span style="font-size:130%;">Point two</span> </span></em><br /><br />The ascent to the finish took eighteen minutes (I know from my phone’s call timer). Teammates Cory and Chris walked out on the course to assist me. Another runner who I don’t know stopped running and walked alongside and asked if he could help. I asked Cory to walk behind me to keep other runners diverted. He, Chris, and the unknown runner stayed right with me all the way to the finish line.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgobkWdLfbShZ0FtS9EnEF_IBUBHsDbERLbRmEnp6z9OW96wuGi3vt5sxyQ9Hr3l1-Ip6Str_pRnN1LrqUFmVjHvQtDr6L1mJ3pL0dD-BHMKmwa2_JxfXC2-Mx-TNEPkyGBLHZM8G4f3a58/s512/DSC_3828.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 512px; height: 321px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgobkWdLfbShZ0FtS9EnEF_IBUBHsDbERLbRmEnp6z9OW96wuGi3vt5sxyQ9Hr3l1-Ip6Str_pRnN1LrqUFmVjHvQtDr6L1mJ3pL0dD-BHMKmwa2_JxfXC2-Mx-TNEPkyGBLHZM8G4f3a58/s512/DSC_3828.JPG" alt="" border="0" /></a><br />Because of paralysis in my arms, I can use my biceps but not my triceps. That means I have good strength pulling with my arms, but almost no strength pushing. When I crank my handbike I pull on the cranks at the bottom of the stroke and coast as my hands go over the top and down the front of the cycle.<br /><br />On a steep hill such as this I can’t quite generate enough momentum to carry me forward on one pull for my hands to coast all the way over the top of the cycle. A little over a year ago I learned I could yank the cranks and pull myself forward a few inches at a time without making a full cycle on the cranks. I end up rocking back and forth but I gain a few inches on each stroke. Depending on the grade, sometimes I can even garner enough rest in my arms doing this to occasionally get in a strong enough stroke to make it through a complete cycle. Often, though, I don’t make the full cycle and end up rolling backwards and losing ground.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyjequHnYKVJLphJqWq3ZlymudzeQeBIGsr1jU05Jr-U1vuh1I1a2UKS7EbO9n-xlBS90JWEv3NzKGSb25DOPnIRpJk_1tkM-d9-vAFN5HeIcUzQFV-XJ9AVWkp0Bv5rQpd7xychGYE0P8/s400/DSC_3833.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 246px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyjequHnYKVJLphJqWq3ZlymudzeQeBIGsr1jU05Jr-U1vuh1I1a2UKS7EbO9n-xlBS90JWEv3NzKGSb25DOPnIRpJk_1tkM-d9-vAFN5HeIcUzQFV-XJ9AVWkp0Bv5rQpd7xychGYE0P8/s400/DSC_3833.JPG" alt="" border="0" /></a><br />It’s not a pretty process but it works for pretty steep hills. My problem this day was that the road surface on this steep stretch of the hill was somewhat slick. When I tried to get in a strong enough stroke to make a full crank cycle, my tire would slip on the pavement. The process was nerve-wracking to watch as was evident from the excitement it generated in the crowds. My <a href="http://www.hopeforthewarriors.org/">Hope For The Warriors</a> teammates admitted to being on the verge of tears as they watched. I have to admit to being so, too as the energy from the urging of my teammates, the staff, the announcer, Chris, Cory, the unknown runner, and all the runners who passed all combined seemed to be enough to virtually lift me up the hill.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://lh5.ggpht.com/_o04yXF_g1C0/SQ-aRUr4abI/AAAAAAAACP4/o9R8Az59Btc/s400/DSC_3829.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="http://lh5.ggpht.com/_o04yXF_g1C0/SQ-aRUr4abI/AAAAAAAACP4/o9R8Az59Btc/s400/DSC_3829.JPG" alt="" border="0" /></a><br />All the while, my mother, who had no visual cues, listened in to what had to sound like maddening chaos. The only coherence to the entire din for her was that as I passed each Marine that lined the climb, she could hear, “Thank you for being here, Marine.” Chris kept talking to me all the way up the hill, much as I would envision he has coached many a Marine through difficult tasks before. Today, it was an honor for me to be on the receiving end of such encouragement previously shared with men and women far braver and more deserving.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYvatZfknrt6uoFgtLqOVuicOSJIO9nP07cjPwHFnmlyWGFICk7BApOr2xqCxYuaMqI1qMhI8ruzO8A1XlujJO1RmMb4pgau7aHuxqS6R60fmpTgzVhsjdBh-fLG_nBO2skyGbQW0wHsME/s512/DSC_3839.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 512px; height: 340px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYvatZfknrt6uoFgtLqOVuicOSJIO9nP07cjPwHFnmlyWGFICk7BApOr2xqCxYuaMqI1qMhI8ruzO8A1XlujJO1RmMb4pgau7aHuxqS6R60fmpTgzVhsjdBh-fLG_nBO2skyGbQW0wHsME/s512/DSC_3839.JPG" alt="" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://lh3.ggpht.com/_o04yXF_g1C0/SQ-buUnKTZI/AAAAAAAACQE/Wibwh-9VfdU/s512/DSC_3841.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 512px; height: 340px;" src="http://lh3.ggpht.com/_o04yXF_g1C0/SQ-buUnKTZI/AAAAAAAACQE/Wibwh-9VfdU/s512/DSC_3841.JPG" alt="" border="0" /></a><br />At the top of the hill I was done. Crossing the finish line would be a formality. But the spectators were not finished and the announcer was not finished. I had carried our flag for 26.2 miles through our Nation’s Capital as I had done in nearly every race so far. As I passed the bleachers, the announcer asked all present to remove their caps as our colors passed by. Everyone stood and the runners joined in a thunderous ovation as each Marine I passed snapped to attention and crisply saluted the national ensign. I could not have been honored greater by trophies or prizes than the privilege of carrying that flag across the finish under the salutes of US Marines. It was my own way of honoring those wounded men and women who have sacrificed so much in service to our country.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://lh5.ggpht.com/_o04yXF_g1C0/SQ-bwnQnDTI/AAAAAAAACQI/yuOnkW2WGD4/s512/DSC_3842.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 512px; height: 340px;" src="http://lh5.ggpht.com/_o04yXF_g1C0/SQ-bwnQnDTI/AAAAAAAACQI/yuOnkW2WGD4/s512/DSC_3842.JPG" alt="" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://lh5.ggpht.com/_o04yXF_g1C0/SQ-bzPyZ-KI/AAAAAAAACQM/_rtwg-1tCco/s512/DSC_3843.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 512px; height: 340px;" src="http://lh5.ggpht.com/_o04yXF_g1C0/SQ-bzPyZ-KI/AAAAAAAACQM/_rtwg-1tCco/s512/DSC_3843.JPG" alt="" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjk8En5xlDVhXFHeL9SuUqlAlMsgvkvjrZ3-1h3stHZIh0eeXexeh9k8Y0zdUiaw1YHiuTeEH7b8G3-y7X3MgzUfG1Kqavsr9Ibaca-_e1AX6ZA-SR8zdSMIQ63AxF3M2w-uIvVMFN1sdyF/s400/DSC_3844.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjk8En5xlDVhXFHeL9SuUqlAlMsgvkvjrZ3-1h3stHZIh0eeXexeh9k8Y0zdUiaw1YHiuTeEH7b8G3-y7X3MgzUfG1Kqavsr9Ibaca-_e1AX6ZA-SR8zdSMIQ63AxF3M2w-uIvVMFN1sdyF/s400/DSC_3844.JPG" alt="" border="0" /></a><br />The pictures may give the reader a small sense of the spirit at the finish that day. Note the support from the runners, the spectators, the announcer, from Chris, Cory, and the unknown runner in the gold T-shirt. Also note the ladies with the lettering on the back of their legs. One reads, “5 Years cancer free.” One had only to open their eyes and ears to be inspired.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://lh5.ggpht.com/_o04yXF_g1C0/SQ-b5_n6WRI/AAAAAAAACQY/vCe22Q5qmfY/s512/DSC_3845.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 512px; height: 340px;" src="http://lh5.ggpht.com/_o04yXF_g1C0/SQ-b5_n6WRI/AAAAAAAACQY/vCe22Q5qmfY/s512/DSC_3845.JPG" alt="" border="0" /></a><br />My time was 6:00:47. It had been my slowest marathon. It had been my most difficult. It had been the most fun. I joined my teammates in the <a href="http://www.hopeforthewarriors.org/">Hope For The Warriors</a> tent at the Charity Village.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://lh4.ggpht.com/_o04yXF_g1C0/SQ-da5EZY2I/AAAAAAAACQk/_V2TVCtZUlE/s512/DSC_3855.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 512px; height: 340px;" src="http://lh4.ggpht.com/_o04yXF_g1C0/SQ-da5EZY2I/AAAAAAAACQk/_V2TVCtZUlE/s512/DSC_3855.JPG" alt="" border="0" /></a><br />T- finished a few minutes later. We all savored our accomplishment and laughed and cried and took pictures. Everyone that wore that finisher medal around their neck seemed to stand a little taller that afternoon.<br /><br />For six months the team had raised over $60,000 for <a href="http://www.hopeforthewarriors.org/">Hope For The Warriors</a>’ programs. For one day we came together from across the nation as a team. For 26.2 miles in <em>The Peoples’ Marathon</em> we ran to demonstrate our gratitude for the selfless service and sacrifice of our Nation’s wounded warriors. Under the shadow of the monument of uncommon valor we said our goodbyes taking with us a lifetime of memories.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://lh6.ggpht.com/_o04yXF_g1C0/SQ-dA-e_p-I/AAAAAAAACQg/d7NGVg1uTPI/s512/DSC_3866.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 512px; height: 340px;" src="http://lh6.ggpht.com/_o04yXF_g1C0/SQ-dA-e_p-I/AAAAAAAACQg/d7NGVg1uTPI/s512/DSC_3866.JPG" alt="" border="0" /></a><span style="font-style: italic;font-size:85%;" >Proud Teammates</span><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://lh3.ggpht.com/_o04yXF_g1C0/SQ-lWc26ksI/AAAAAAAACRU/xrya5wwlACw/s512/DSC_3863.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 512px; height: 340px;" src="http://lh3.ggpht.com/_o04yXF_g1C0/SQ-lWc26ksI/AAAAAAAACRU/xrya5wwlACw/s512/DSC_3863.JPG" alt="" border="0" /></a><span style="font-style: italic;font-size:85%;" >Curb crew Melissa</span><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUYAlQ09MRFyWCdy3BpWr7vUvGnohVLxwt2C8HM6bKoY2w2unEbxETw1S7YPOtf9SNBcV5oQFsqQibblsEorzSo7rT1bfxw54tpeD0OTCA-OLf2CjN107FLKOjq1eqT-VxUKViYdJ5B0P8/s512/DSC_3875.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 512px; height: 340px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUYAlQ09MRFyWCdy3BpWr7vUvGnohVLxwt2C8HM6bKoY2w2unEbxETw1S7YPOtf9SNBcV5oQFsqQibblsEorzSo7rT1bfxw54tpeD0OTCA-OLf2CjN107FLKOjq1eqT-VxUKViYdJ5B0P8/s512/DSC_3875.JPG" alt="" border="0" /></a><span style="font-style: italic;font-size:85%;" >Teammate James</span><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://lh3.ggpht.com/_o04yXF_g1C0/SQ-lH-x0JSI/AAAAAAAACRQ/v7yU1QT_snU/s512/DSC_3870.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 512px; height: 340px;" src="http://lh3.ggpht.com/_o04yXF_g1C0/SQ-lH-x0JSI/AAAAAAAACRQ/v7yU1QT_snU/s512/DSC_3870.JPG" alt="" border="0" /></a><span style="font-style: italic;font-size:85%;" >Teammate Ed with Hope For The Warriors Co-founders Robin Kelleher and Shanon Maxwell</span><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://lh5.ggpht.com/_o04yXF_g1C0/SQ-dxQiw7VI/AAAAAAAACQo/EitHMj5Os9o/s512/DSC_3874.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 512px; height: 340px;" src="http://lh5.ggpht.com/_o04yXF_g1C0/SQ-dxQiw7VI/AAAAAAAACQo/EitHMj5Os9o/s512/DSC_3874.JPG" alt="" border="0" /></a><span style="font-style: italic;font-size:85%;" >Big supporter and Li'L sis LL</span><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgM_82Gr16PNb5-VNPm3qpge-wDiocV_esPUSWv1Zbho5xlPdsnGlE0szfSHRdadfhN37SFP6VrbsADBOAxgeyPvBgpkQVVB-E7b8KU1lLJTyVctlJN5AwEqMZs29HBoEYiTHNYxcFbrbct/s512/DSC_3881.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 512px; height: 340px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgM_82Gr16PNb5-VNPm3qpge-wDiocV_esPUSWv1Zbho5xlPdsnGlE0szfSHRdadfhN37SFP6VrbsADBOAxgeyPvBgpkQVVB-E7b8KU1lLJTyVctlJN5AwEqMZs29HBoEYiTHNYxcFbrbct/s512/DSC_3881.JPG" alt="" border="0" /></a><span style="font-style: italic;font-size:85%;" >Teammate Alysia</span><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://lh6.ggpht.com/_o04yXF_g1C0/SQ-ciUZtkAI/AAAAAAAACQc/iSnfHOjtT6s/s512/DSC_3878.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 512px; height: 340px;" src="http://lh6.ggpht.com/_o04yXF_g1C0/SQ-ciUZtkAI/AAAAAAAACQc/iSnfHOjtT6s/s512/DSC_3878.JPG" alt="" border="0" /></a><span style="font-style: italic;"><span style="font-size:85%;">Team Hope For The Warriors Coordinator, Toni</span></span><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://lh4.ggpht.com/_o04yXF_g1C0/SQ-eiVznEhI/AAAAAAAACQw/a9JfQ3Rjqow/s512/DSC_3865.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 499px; height: 512px;" src="http://lh4.ggpht.com/_o04yXF_g1C0/SQ-eiVznEhI/AAAAAAAACQw/a9JfQ3Rjqow/s512/DSC_3865.JPG" alt="" border="0" /></a><span style="font-style: italic;font-size:85%;" >Hope For The Warriors President and Co-founder, Robin Kelleher</span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 255);font-size:130%;" ><em>You can help</em></span> </div><br /><br /><div>Join me in my campaign, <a href="http://www.active.com/donate/2008Miles">2008 Miles of Hope</a>, to help America's heroes, our wounded warriors and their families. Donate today. You can easily make a donation to <a href="http://www.hopeforthewarriors.org/">Hope For The Warriors</a> by using our secure credit card donation site:<br /><br /><a href="http://www.active.com/donate/2008Miles">2008 Miles of Hope</a><br /><br />Or donate by check. Download our donation form, fill it out, and send it to us with your donation to our address on the form:<br /><br /><a href="http://2008milesofhope.googlepages.com/Donationform.pdf">Donation form.pdf </a><br /><br />And learn about where the money goes:<br /><br /><a href="http://www.hopeforthewarriors.org/">Hope For The Warriors</a><br /><br />There is no better way to say thanks to those who have sacrificed so much.<br /><br />-LetsRoll!<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://lh3.ggpht.com/_o04yXF_g1C0/SQ-l52FkBCI/AAAAAAAACRY/XPIfoh-bhXQ/s512/DSC_3907.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 512px; height: 340px;" src="http://lh3.ggpht.com/_o04yXF_g1C0/SQ-l52FkBCI/AAAAAAAACRY/XPIfoh-bhXQ/s512/DSC_3907.JPG" alt="" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://lh3.ggpht.com/_o04yXF_g1C0/SQ-l52FkBCI/AAAAAAAACRY/XPIfoh-bhXQ/s640/DSC_3907.JPG"><br /></a> </div></div></div></div>LetsRollhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02704108831138764554noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1195166657047014867.post-4565233200236590712008-10-10T08:41:00.000-07:002008-11-18T15:00:04.816-08:00Hope, Inspiration, and Renewed Promise<p><span style="font-size:130%;"><em><span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 255);">Ask not what America can do for you, but see what her bravest have sacrificed, and ask, “How do I say thank you?” </span></em><br /></span>- <a href="http://www.active.com/donate/TH4WMCM2008/alysiarieg">Alysia Rieg</a>, <span style="font-size:85%;"><a href="http://www.hopeforthewarriors.org/mcm2008.html">2008 Marine Corps Marathon Team Hope For The Warriors</a></span><br /></p><p><br />This past weekend was the <a href="http://www.armytenmiler.com/">Army Ten-Miler</a>. I added it into my schedule in August thanks to the Army’s new registration transfer policy. I had hoped it would be a nice warm up for the <a href="http://marinemarathon.com/">Marine Corps Marathon</a>.<br /></p><p><table style="width: auto;"><tbody><tr><td><a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/CtYhNW7IFIxDc1Mkft5SsQ?authkey=N5SMRAXL1os"><img src="http://lh3.ggpht.com/2008MilesOfHope/SO1PY4eyoAI/AAAAAAAAB6c/kkDn8p4Wl7o/s400/IMG_0108.JPG" /></a></td></tr><tr><td style="font-size: 11px; font-family: arial,sans-serif; text-align: right;">From <a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/2008MilesOfHope/ATM?authkey=N5SMRAXL1os">ATM</a></td></tr></tbody></table></p><p>Crossing the starting line alongside some of the Nation’s bravest warriors turned out to be one of the most inspirational experiences of my life.<br /><br /></p><p><table style="width: auto;"><tbody><tr><td><a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/pnS3AG9D_X2bTbr6gWB42w?authkey=N5SMRAXL1os"><img src="http://lh5.ggpht.com/2008MilesOfHope/SO1PgAin-UI/AAAAAAAAB6o/BEpyliBQT_k/s400/DSC_3616.JPG" /></a></td></tr><tr><td style="font-size: 11px; font-family: arial,sans-serif; text-align: right;">From <a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/2008MilesOfHope/ATM?authkey=N5SMRAXL1os">ATM</a></td></tr></tbody></table></p><p>Twenty-six thousand runners took part. To put it in perspective, in eastern NC, where I live, that’s more than the entire population of many counties. Every runner had their own story of inspiration that was driving them. Eighteen thousand made it to the finish line. With the help of a dedicated and loving teammate, this quadriplegic on a handbike, driven by hope, inspiration, and a promise, is proud to be one of those finishers. My niece, T- was also one of those finishers. She and I made a pact to make this an annual must-do.</p><p><span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 255); font-style: italic;">The trip</span></span><br /><br />My teammate and I arrived in DC Friday evening. In addition to the ATM, I wanted to use the opportunity to prepare for the Marine Corps Marathon. I had four objectives for the weekend. I wanted to:<br /><br />1. Reconnoiter the MCM course; particularly this year’s changes<br />2. Ride up Lee Highway, the longest uphill climb on the MCM course<br />3. Reconnoiter the ATM course<br />4. Race the ATM.<br /><br />In a nutshell, the weekend, as measured by my objectives was good news, bad news, more good news, and even more good news.<br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 255);font-size:130%;" ><em>Good news</em></span><br /><br />If you follow my blog, you’ll understand that my big personal goal is the <a href="http://marinemarathon.com/">MCM</a>. The good news has to do with the new MCM course. The area at Canal Road and Reservoir Road is run in the opposite direction this year. I was concerned about some steep uphill grades. We had previously checked the grades but I wasn’t concerned about the downhill grades. Since the course is run in the opposite direction, those are now uphill. The good news is that there is only one killer climb, the beginning of Reservoir Road. It won’t be fun, but it’s doable. The new direction has actually made the steepest grades downhill.<br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 255);font-size:130%;" ><em>The bad news<br /></em></span><br /><a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/r6INLgckPt84yNAYqvZj3Q?authkey=N5SMRAXL1os"><img src="http://lh4.ggpht.com/2008MilesOfHope/SO_R855lTNI/AAAAAAAAB8A/6mNMIMkuz_k/s400/DSC_3545.JPG" /></a><br /></p><p>The bad news was Saturday’s recon ride for the MCM along Lee Highway. There is a lot of ascent along this road. Although it’s not relatively steep, it’s steep enough to bog me down. Based on this experience, I think it will take me about an hour to get to mile 2 at Spout Run Parkway during the MCM. I won’t be able to make up that time on the downhill, either, since by that time the runners will be too thick to pass very fast.<br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 255);font-size:130%;" ><em>More good news</em></span><br /><br />The ATM recon drive filled me with Hope for Sunday’s race. It was better than flat. It seemed like it was mostly downhill. “Is that possible or is it just an illusion,” I kept asking myself. My only worry was going too fast to make turns at some spots.<br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 255);font-size:130%;" ><em>Even more good news</em></span><br /><br />So the ATM itself was the best news of the whole trip. I was psyched up and I was excited. The course was great. This was going to be a great race. Saturday night we decided to carb load with sushi. We had great dinner at <a href="http://www.cafeasia.com/">Café Asia</a>. T- and I had a chance to strategize on our upcoming MCM. We normally carb up on Italian before a race and it probably wasn’t wise to try anything new but the food at Café Asia was sure good.<br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 255);font-size:130%;" ><em>Out in the dark </em></span><br /><br />Everything was going perfectly this weekend. No problems at the Expo. I tried to bolster our sagging economy with purchases at the Expo. I even got to bed early Saturday and then slept hard. That is rare for me before a race. We were up at 0500 and had eaten and were out the door around 0600. I wanted to be on my bike and situated at the start by 0700.<br /><br />The Pentagon parking lot is a bit of a maze in a wheelchair on a good day. It seems like no matter where you need to go, there is a curb in the way. Chairs are always an afterthought at these races, or at least with the crowd control planners. It seems like I was constantly having to get soldiers to remove barricades to get to the starting line. </p><p><table style="width: auto;"><tbody><tr><td><a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/xMowWK0TWl5zNXGw_n_q7Q?authkey=N5SMRAXL1os"><img src="http://lh6.ggpht.com/2008MilesOfHope/SO1PTsNmiNI/AAAAAAAAB6U/UowM3afB3wo/s400/DSC_3554.JPG" /></a></td></tr><tr><td style="font-size: 11px; font-family: arial,sans-serif; text-align: right;">From <a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/2008MilesOfHope/ATM?authkey=N5SMRAXL1os">ATM</a></td></tr></tbody></table></p><p>At the starting line I met my good friend and mentor from the National Defense University, Dr. C-. He had come equipped with his camera. Since my teammate usually takes all the pics, so it was good that she could pose for a pic with me for a change.<br /><br /></p><p><table style="width: auto;"><tbody><tr><td><a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/exW4PL4fEUeEwXwGh6EM3g?authkey=N5SMRAXL1os"><img src="http://lh5.ggpht.com/2008MilesOfHope/SO1PWfhyViI/AAAAAAAAB6Y/7MOKG-qsIKQ/s400/IMG_0100.JPG" /></a></td></tr><tr><td style="font-size: 11px; font-family: arial,sans-serif; text-align: right;">From <a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/2008MilesOfHope/ATM?authkey=N5SMRAXL1os">ATM</a></td></tr></tbody></table><span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 255);font-size:130%;" ><em>Hope</em></span><br /><br />In a few minutes a couple of other handcyclists arrived. One, an amputee, and the other a cancer survivor. Note the girl next to me in pink.<br /><br /><table style="width: auto;"><tbody><tr><td><a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/uNsiegRNOp8cZKQhV44hsQ?authkey=N5SMRAXL1os"><img src="http://lh5.ggpht.com/2008MilesOfHope/SO_LWj5rslI/AAAAAAAAB7Y/_H2EOFnJukk/s400/IMG_0113.JPG" /></a></td></tr><tr><td style="font-family: arial,sans-serif; font-size: 11px; text-align: right;">From <a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/2008MilesOfHope/ATM?authkey=N5SMRAXL1os">ATM</a></td></tr></tbody></table>She used to run the ATM until cancer robbed her of the use of her legs. Sunday she did it again for the first time on a handbike. She kicked my butt. Her name is Hope. Fitting, wouldn't you say?<br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 255);font-size:130%;" ><em>Inspiration</em></span><br /><br />The wounded warriors, or as the Army calls them, the Missing Parts-In-Action Team began to arrive. It was to be an honor to run beside these men and women. Several were fitted with running prostheses. Some only used everyday prostheses. Two used handbikes. </p><table style="width: auto;"><tbody><tr><td><a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/xFrXT75zCu-Wad1qZH_5mw?authkey=N5SMRAXL1os"><img src="http://lh6.ggpht.com/2008MilesOfHope/SO1OPRWzmXI/AAAAAAAAB6M/2g6QaVGFq94/s400/IMG_0116.JPG" /></a></td></tr><tr><td style="font-size: 11px; font-family: arial,sans-serif; text-align: right;">From <a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/2008MilesOfHope/ATM?authkey=N5SMRAXL1os">ATM</a></td></tr></tbody></table><p>One blind soldier ran with a guide. You had to be inspired by the fact that they were out there. </p><p><a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/qBwDX5ei3zGZvxDn47Vw_w?authkey=N5SMRAXL1os"><img src="http://lh5.ggpht.com/2008MilesOfHope/SO1N30LMShI/AAAAAAAAB6I/PjAkBbLCcfM/s400/IMG_0116.JPG" /></a></p><p>The Secretary of the Army, the Honorable Pete Geren spent a great deal of time mingling with the wounded troops and engaging them in one-on-one conversation with them. It was good to see him pay such close attention to them and to personally honor their sacrifices. </p><table style="width: auto;"><tbody><tr><td><a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/tw-R97kXEx_9NFL2ZdI5Zg?authkey=N5SMRAXL1os"><img src="http://lh3.ggpht.com/2008MilesOfHope/SO1PkLDVbYI/AAAAAAAAB6w/R-S8Xizf6n4/s400/DSC_3551.JPG" /></a></td></tr><tr><td style="font-size: 11px; font-family: arial,sans-serif; text-align: right;">From <a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/2008MilesOfHope/ATM?authkey=N5SMRAXL1os">ATM</a></td></tr></tbody></table><p>He even honored us civilians with a commemorative coin. </p><p><br />Even though I often participate in races alongside other athletes with disabilities, I am always inspired by the determination and resolve of the wounded warriors as they run for their own honor and that of their comrades. Read the <a href="http://lagniappeslair.blogspot.com/2008/10/so-i-actually-ran-army-ten-miler.html">inspiring race report</a> from one of the amputees.</p><table style="width: auto;"><tbody><tr><td><a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/i72Iv_vxJ-TMj0yxj2RP2w?authkey=N5SMRAXL1os"><img src="http://lh3.ggpht.com/2008MilesOfHope/SO1PRWOU-zI/AAAAAAAAB6Q/Z5F2naFGEDU/s400/DSC_3549.JPG" /></a></td></tr><tr><td style="font-size: 11px; font-family: arial,sans-serif; text-align: right;">From <a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/2008MilesOfHope/ATM?authkey=N5SMRAXL1os">ATM</a></td></tr></tbody></table><p>The Golden Knights dropped in right in front of us. </p><p></p><a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/3km0vjoAH0KmJykO8Y3Ztg?authkey=N5SMRAXL1os"><img src="http://lh3.ggpht.com/2008MilesOfHope/SO_M76EUwJI/AAAAAAAAB7g/tEXfwTAooHM/s400/DSC_3586.JPG" /></a><p>Four Blackhawks flew directly over the runners in a diamond formation. They could not have flown lower for the street lamps.<br /><br /><table style="width: auto;"><tbody><tr><td><a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/vbT7dgXUFAWukyX8G5uccQ?authkey=N5SMRAXL1os"><img src="http://lh5.ggpht.com/2008MilesOfHope/SO1Pmu9JWII/AAAAAAAAB60/C6B9q8y4NrY/s400/DSC_3571.JPG" /></a></td></tr><tr><td style="font-size: 11px; font-family: arial,sans-serif; text-align: right;">From <a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/2008MilesOfHope/ATM?authkey=N5SMRAXL1os">ATM</a></td></tr></tbody></table>One of the MPIA handbikers was working feverishly right up to the last minute to adjust his bike. Someone had brought the wrong bike for him. To give you an idea, it took about a month for my teammate and I to get my bike adjusted to me properly.<br /><br /><table style="width: auto;"><tbody><tr align="left"><td><a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/OROwz6nmdB4xq-Wa7g3ZWw?authkey=N5SMRAXL1os"><img src="http://lh6.ggpht.com/2008MilesOfHope/SO1PbRibjFI/AAAAAAAAB6g/og5sk4HeBdU/s400/DSC_3599.JPG" /></a></td></tr><tr><td style="font-size: 11px; font-family: arial,sans-serif; text-align: right;">From <a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/2008MilesOfHope/ATM?authkey=N5SMRAXL1os">ATM</a></td></tr></tbody></table>We rolled up to the starting line. Announcer Ken Berger had us all pumped up. The starting gun went off and we were off. This was going to be fun!<br /><table style="width: auto;"><tbody><tr><td><a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/1f9mkcc5T3s29EsUmPVQ4A?authkey=N5SMRAXL1os"><img src="http://lh5.ggpht.com/2008MilesOfHope/SO1PiJR3pkI/AAAAAAAAB6s/8NOSkKei9JE/s400/DSC_3604.JPG" /></a></td></tr><tr><td style="font-size: 11px; font-family: arial,sans-serif; text-align: right;">From <a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/2008MilesOfHope/ATM?authkey=N5SMRAXL1os">ATM</a></td></tr></tbody></table><em><span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 255);"><span style="font-size:130%;">Mile 1 6:40 Arlington</span><br /></span></em><br /><table style="width: auto;"><tbody><tr><td><a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/KeK515rFkGlPznNVqGGSQQ?authkey=N5SMRAXL1os"><img src="http://lh4.ggpht.com/2008MilesOfHope/SO1Pdz-rsdI/AAAAAAAAB6k/DqUJaTNqjng/s400/DSC_3603.JPG" /></a></td></tr><tr><td style="font-size: 11px; font-family: arial,sans-serif; text-align: right;">From <a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/2008MilesOfHope/ATM?authkey=N5SMRAXL1os">ATM</a></td></tr></tbody></table>I did my typical slow roll across the starting line. The other handbikes were gone in a flash. We left the Pentagon area and headed out toward the traffic circle at Arlington Cemetery. I caught up with the handbiker that had the wrong chair. He seemed to be coping and he got going and left me behind. One of the amputees was really fast. He and I passed each other several times. The weather was perfect and I had plenty of energy.<br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 255);"><span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 255);"><em>Mile 2 7:22 Constitution</em> </span><br /></span></span><br />There was just enough grade up the Memorial Bridge to slow me down a bit. The grade down the DC side was just enough to get up some good speed. There was no one around except that fast amputee up ahead, so I yanked on the cranks with all my strength. Yee-ha! This was fun! I caught up to the amputee just before 19th Street and yelled in support.<br /><br /><em><span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 255);font-size:130%;" >Mile 3 10:09 Virginia Avenue—Passing the pace car</span></em><br /><br /><a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/yBIAFP2Yp_VelKcwDpLIJw?authkey=N5SMRAXL1os"><img src="http://lh4.ggpht.com/2008MilesOfHope/SO_LlAlA5KI/AAAAAAAAB7c/Y4s9IOcQd4Y/s400/DSC_3591.JPG" /></a><br /><br />Mile three was my slowest and my fastest. The constant climb up the first half of the stretch slowed me down until the pace car and motorcycles passed and the lead runners approached. At the top of the hill, the pace car was about a block ahead. I thought to myself, “I think I can pass that lizard!” I poured it on again and approached it from the right rear corner. I managed to pass at a pretty good clip and squeeze in behind the motorcycles before having to slow to make the sharp turn onto rock Creek Parkway.<br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 255);font-size:130%;" ><em>Mile 4 5:58 Rock Creek Parkway </em></span><br /><br />Needless to say, as you can judge by my time, this mile was fun. Runners who were out for their Sunday jog along the Potomac saw the race picking up momentum. They abandoned their exercise and ran up to the street to yell to the runners. The pace car with the Geico lizard passed again and a few minutes later the photographers’ truck. That could only mean the lead runners were not far behind.<br /><br />In a few minutes I could hear the footsteps of the Brazilian runners. I yelled to the leaders as they passed. You have to appreciate my unique vantage point in the race. By getting to start early, I not only get to enjoy the motivation of seeing the other disabled participants but also seeing some of the fastest runners in the world.<br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 255);font-size:130%;" ><em>Mile 5 7:44 Independence<br /></em></span><br />If you are a runner, there can be no better place on the earth to run than Independence Avenue. Along the Tidal Basin, the crowds of spectators were starting to thicken but were still “intimate.” Everyone was cheering individual runners, not just yelling to a crowd. The Washington Monument was to my left. The Jefferson Memorial, my favorite DC landmark, lay ahead, to my right as I continued my “pursuit of happiness.” The National Mall lay out ahead. The street slopes upward as it approaches 14th Street. I ended up coasting to a stop as I had to take my hand off the cranks to shift to the lower gears. Crowds were yelling, “You can do it!”<br /><br /><span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 255);"><em>Mile 6 8:12 The sprint downtown</em></span><br /></span><br />After a few minutes of grinding along in my lower gears, I got to the “flat” part of Independence. Actually, it’s not perfectly flat, it’s slightly downhill all the way to Capitol Hill. Perfect. The spectators were highly motivating, packed two and three deep in some spots. Although I could have gone a lot faster, I enjoyed this stretch.<br /><br />I veered over into the opposite side of the street to high-five some of the returning handbikers. As I approached 7th Street I slowed to check the crowds. This is where I had hoped to see my teammate and Dr. C-. They were nowhere in sight. I picked up my pace and started passing the throng again, which was getting thicker by now.<br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 255);"><em><span style="font-size:130%;">Mile 7 6:40 The Capitol </span><br /></em></span><br />I could still maneuver through the runners fairly easily, but I tried not to cut anyone off. I was still maintaining a fairly good pace. A couple a little dips in the roads caused me to have to yell to runners as I passed them at a pretty good clip.<br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 255);font-size:130%;" ><em>Mile 8 9:47 West on Independence </em></span><br /><br />As I started westward on Independence I began paying for the downhill advantage I had enjoyed going eastward. Now the runners were providing the support. There was a constant cacophony of Hooahs from the outbound soldiers. The throng of runners outbound was a full fledged crowd by now.<br /><br />I checked for my teammate and Dr. C- again at 7th Street. Still not here. It turns out they got separated at the starting line and were later than planned catching the metro over to the District.<br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 255);font-size:130%;" ><em>Mile 9 8:24 Highway 395 bridge </em></span><br /><br />At 14th Street we descended downhill as we approached the 14th Street Bridge. I have to give it to these runners. In most races, the iPods have the runners deafened. In this race most seemed to adhere to the no-iPod policy. Hence, when I had the opportunity to pass on a downhill stretch, I could yell to warn runners and they could actually hear me.<br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 255);font-size:130%;" ><em>Mile 10 9:52 The Bridge </em></span><br /><br />I had thought that the 14th Street Bridge would be one of the most fun parts of the course. I had envisioned sweeping views of the Potomac. Instead, there was just a lot of concrete that needed sweeping. It was hot. On Friday I wondered how the course could seem predominately downhill. On Sunday I learned. That elevation was made up on the 14th Street Bridge. A couple of times I coasted to a stop when I took my hand off the crank to shift to the lower gears. As I plodded along the last little rise I could hear the sound of Ken Berger’s voice as he announced the finishers crossing the finish line. There is no sweeter sound to a runner’s ear.<br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 255);font-size:130%;" ><em>Mile 10.12 0:36 Finish </em></span><br /><br />My actual distance is a bit longer than the course distance because I obviously didn’t follow the exact path of certification to the inch. At the end my time was 1:21:21. Not my best, but one I’m quite happy with.<br /><br /><table style="width: auto;"><tbody><tr><td><a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/p-oT1FkCiM_Ix_z1gvTQPg?authkey=N5SMRAXL1os"><img src="http://lh5.ggpht.com/2008MilesOfHope/SO1Po38Ql1I/AAAAAAAAB64/35jsTFO6g08/s400/DSC_3625.JPG" /></a></td></tr><tr><td style="font-size: 11px; font-family: arial,sans-serif; text-align: right;">From <a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/2008MilesOfHope/ATM?authkey=N5SMRAXL1os">ATM</a></td></tr></tbody></table>T- finished in 1:56. She was quite proud of her time after her struggle at the VA Beach RnR Half. Her 10 mile split then was 24 minutes slower. My teammate and Dr. C- got to Independence Avenue after I had already passed. It was a while before we all got reunited. Dr. C- was never able to get past a bunch of stern E-4s so I never saw him after the race.<br /><br />Sally happened to spot my good luck friends, S- and D-. I always seem to do well when they are in the race, hence they are always a welcome sight. T- attributes our success to our dinner. “Must be the sushi,” she later emailed me.<br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 255);font-size:130%;" ><em>Blessing count<br /></em></span><br />All in all, it was a great weekend. One made possible by some of the greatest warriors in the world.<br /><br />I finished last among the handbikes. This is no concern to me because I had fun. In fact,<br /><br />I got to have a front row seat in the largest ten-miler in the nation.<br />I had a front row seat to all the pre-race ceremonies.<br />I got to watch world class athletes from a unique vantage point that no one else in the race got to enjoy.<br />I got to meet the Secretary of the Army, shake his hand, and have my picture taken with him.<br />He personally honored me with a coin for participating.<br />I had the honor of racing beside some of the greatest service members in the world.<br />I went across the starting line with those men and women who have sacrificed personally and greatly for our freedom.<br />I finished the largest ten-miler in the nation.<br />I finished in a pretty good time.<br />I passed the pace car.<br />Thousands and thousands of spectators and athletes cheered for me.<br />I got to spend some QUALITY time with one of the most inspirational people I know, Dr. C-.<br />My teammate had fun (when Mama's happy,...).<br />I got to do another race with my niece, T-<br />T- finished in a pretty good time.<br />My XX-year old mother gained a few more bragging rights amongst her quilting circles.<br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 255);font-size:130%;" ><em><a href="http://www.hopeforthewarriors.org/">Hope For The Warriors</a></em></span><br /><br />I race to benefit this outstanding foundation. They look out for wounded warriors and their families in their time of need. It is my promise to raise $26,200 in donations to support their programs.<br /><br />This is America. We can go out and run around the Nation’s Capitol if we want to. Or stay indoors and watch TV. Only because we have brave men and women who are willing to go stand in harm's way to protect our liberty. And for that I am grateful.<br /><br />Join me in my campaign, 2008 Miles of Hope, to help America's heroes, our wounded warriors and their families. Donate today. You can easily make a donation to <a href="http://www.hopeforthewarriors.org/">Hope For The Warriors</a> by using our secure credit card donation site:<br /><br /><a href="http://www.active.com/donate/2008Miles">2008 Miles of Hope</a><br /><br />Or donate by check. Download our donation form, fill it out, and send it to us with your donation to our address on the form:<br /><br /><a href="http://2008milesofhope.googlepages.com/Donationform.pdf">Donation form.pdf</a><br /><br />And learn about where the money goes:<br /><br /><a href="http://www.hopeforthewarriors.org/">Hope For The Warriors</a><br /><br />It's only a minor inconvenience for those who have sacrificed so much.</p><p><br /></p><p><a href="http://www.stripes.com/article.asp?section=104&article=65096&archive=true">Watch the ATM video</a></p><p>-LetsRoll!<br /></p>LetsRollhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02704108831138764554noreply@blogger.com4