2 ½ Marathons in 15 Days—Part 3

11.8.2009 OBX Half Marathon
See part 1

See Part 2

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.

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.

Warmup

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.

Ocracoke is one of my favorite rides.  The island is 14 miles long and shaped like a hockey stick.

With the Atlantic Ocean on one side and the Pamlico Sound on the other, Ocracoke is a beautiful coastal ride.

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.

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. 

Teammate Wins Again!

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. 

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.

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.

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.” 

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. 

Saturday I didn’t feel like I would die.  Nor did I expect to fly.

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!”

A Day at the Beach

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.

The race was fun.  The weather Sunday was perfect.  The event coordinators provided two bicycle escorts , B- and C-, to ride with me.

Photo by Triduo.com

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.

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. 

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!

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.

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.

Photo by Triduo.com

Also enjoy the News-Times feature:  Kelly on a roll for wounded warriors

I do this because I can

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. 

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.

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. 

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.

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.

  

2008 Miles of Hope

If you prefer to write a check, download a donation form and mail it to us at the address provided on the form.

Donation Form

Also visit the Hope For The Warriors™ website to learn more about their promise, “No sacrifice forgotten, nor need unmet.”

Hope For The Warriors™

Enjoy being free.

-LetsRoll!

Teammate ROCKS Virginia Beach!

09.06.2009

It’s been a while since I have posted a blog but well, “it’s been a toim,” 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.

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.

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.



July brought good news when the Achilles Track Club gave me a seed in the New York City Marathon. 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.

Every weekend an inspiration

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.

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 her first half marathon 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.

A close one

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.

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.

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.



I saw my friends David Swaim and One Leg Dan at the start.



As we made our way back through the corrals, we found T- and her friend MO.





A running machine

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.



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!"

Hope For The Warriors

Hope For The Warriors was an official charity partner with the Rock ‘n’ Roll Half Marathon 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.

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 and the New York City Marathon this year. And I continue with my goal of raising $26.2 thousand for Hope For The Warriors.

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.

2008 Miles of Hope

Or download our donation form and send it with a check to the address on the form.

Donation form.pdf

Please show your gratitude for the service and the sacrifice of our wounded warriors. Read about the programs offered by Hope For The Warriors. Make a donation.

They sacrificed selflessly for your freedom.

Thrice Honored

How 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?

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?

How about to be escorted through the race by bicycle escorts who are wounded warriors on their road to recovery?

Crystal Coast Half Marathon

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.

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.

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!

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.

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.

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.

Photo by Steve Jessmore sjessmore@thesunnews.com–The Sun News

Marines to the assist

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.

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.

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.’

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.

The race

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.

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.

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.

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.

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!

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.

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.

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 the “rest of the pack,” 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.

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.

David and OneLegDan were waiting at the finish. We waited around for the awards.

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!

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!

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.

Return the honor

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.

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.

Donate today. You can easily make a donation to Hope For The Warriors by using our secure credit card donation site:

2008 Miles of Hope

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:

Donation form.pdf

And learn about where the money goes: Hope For The Warriors


Look for us at the Shamrock!

Dismal Swamp Stomp

What if?

When you accomplish something you never dreamed of, it makes you question whether your other goals are high enough. So it was with the Dismal Swamp Stomp.

April 19 was the Saturday after the Jacksonville Trails and Greenways 10K. I had just completed my fastest 10K ever. I attribute my good fortune to my good luck friends, S- and D-. They always seem to be around when I do my best in some way or another.

Even though I was quite happy with my time in Jacksonville, I had a general lack of energy way too early in the race. I usually fuel up before a race with a Snickers and a Red Bull. I felt like I had fueled up too early that day. I had to wonder, “What could I do if everything just came together perfectly?”

I never really had a goal for a race. I only wanted to do the best I could and finish at least somewhere in the middle of the pack. I didn’t even hope to finish near the front. I just didn’t want to be the anchor man. I’ve always used the same strategy. I go out as fast as I can at first for as long as I can, hoping to be dragging across the finish line, fully depleted. My mentor, G- always advised me to hold back a little at first. He warned against a miserable time at the end of a race while trying to finish with your reserves depleted. I’ve just never seemed to listen to that advice. My excitement seems to build toward the end of a race and though my speed slows, that excitement seems to get me there.

The Stomp


The Dismal Swamp Stomp has all the ingredients for success. It is the flattest half marathon course I have ever seen. Tall trees line most of the course so there is little wind. They offer prize money which attracts fast runners. The fast runners always inspire me. This particular day the weather was perfect. The breeze was light and the temperature was cool. I had carb’ed up nicely at Olive Garden the night before. And I did something I rarely ever do. I went to bed early the night before. So that morning, as my teammate was getting me situated on my handbike, I said, “There is no reason that today can’t be the day for a new PR. Everything I need is just right!”

As I took a warm-up ride through a nearby subdivision, the pre-race excitement started to build. Indeed, everything felt just right today. The bike seemed to be working just right. And most importantly, I had plenty of energy. So I decided to heed the advice of G-, for now, and throttle back during my warm-up and save a little energy for latter. I noticed the parking areas filling up so I decide I should make my way to the starting area. I stopped by the van and took on my pre-race carbs.

Familiar faces


At the starting area, I started seeing folks that were familiar to me. I got to meet my fellow blogger, Charlie. It was the first time we actually got to meet face to face and chat. It was good to see him and exchange some mutual wishes for good luck. J-, another fast runner whom I had met at the Norfolk Half Marathon, greeted me also.


I met the folks from Kale Running who were timing the race. They filled me in on details of the race start. It was good to know they were running the event. I had taken part in another race they hosted in Norfolk in February and had set my previous half marathon PR. Call me superstitious, but all the coincidences were falling in place for some good luck that day.


I knew my good luck was in the bag when I saw S- and D-. I had been with them the previous weekend when I had done my PR for a 10K. They had also been at previous races when I had PR’ed. I was looking forward to the race. I felt good.

The course was a straight and flat out-and-back. The only concern I had was the turn around. A handbike takes a LOT of room to turn around, more than the width of the road. From previously recon’ing the course I knew that the shoulders of the road didn’t allow me enough room to make a turn around at the designated turn-around point. But I had seen a large gravel parking area on the shoulder about a hundred yards past the turn-around. My plan was to extend past the turn-around point and sacrifice the time to travel the extra distance for a safer and speedier turn. It seemed like a good plan except that I had never practiced it.

We queued up for the start. The starter was going to give me a two minute head start. I figured that would give me about a mile before the fast runners caught me. That would be plenty of time for the crowd to stretch out. That should make a comfortable ride without the worry of “contact” with other runners. She let the others in the front know that the first start was for the chair only. She practically whispered the “ready, set, go.” I guess a false start is BIG deal with a crowd this big.

Ahead...

Anyway, I was off. The bike felt good and I did, too. I wanted to get past the congestion of the start as quickly as I could so I cranked as hard as I could. I thought about my mentor’s advice about saving energy for later. “Naah! Not right now, anyway.” This felt too good and I wanted to enjoy it.

After about a mile, I started checking my mirror. The Kenyans at the front looked pretty fast. I expected to see them closing any second. So far there was no one in sight. My energy level was great and I didn’t feel like I was going to fade any time soon. I thought about G-‘s advice again and again decided I’d wait until later to conserve.

About mile three the Kenyans passed me. I got a little inspiration from that—both from seeing those men run so fast and from the thought that I had gone so far before they caught me with only a two minute lead. “Wow,” I thought, “this is going great.” I kept cranking and kept feeling good. It was nice to have no wind and a nice cool temperature.


I kept watching my mirror for Charlie and J-. No sign of them yet. They are pretty fast runners. I was beginning to wonder if the start had been delayed but I kept telling myself I was having a really good day just to keep myself motivated. I tried to sneak a peek at my GPS but my head was moving so much that my bifocals just didn’t focus on the screen.


About mile five, Charlie passed me and gave a big yell and wave. I shouted back. He seemed to be having a good day too. J- passed me in a small group that seemed to be drafting each other. We too shouted at each other. I must have been losing my concentration and slacking off. I felt like I could go faster so I picked up my tempo to catch J- and his group. What the heck, I might as well catch that draft, too. I think they must have thought they were in my way because when I caught them, they all scattered. Oh well, I hope I didn’t break up their rhythm. I went on past them and they passed me again a few minutes later.

The turnaround

My teammate had gone ahead down Highway 17 on her bicycle to meet me at the Glencoe plantation. As I passed that spot she was nowhere to be seen. I told a spectator to watch for her and tell her that I had already passed.

About a half mile ahead the turn around drew near. The Kenyans had passed on their way back. I met Charlie and J- and gave them a big yell. I got to the halfway point feeling great. I extended down to the gravel parking area to make my turn. And there I experienced my biggest disappointment of the day.

I rolled off the edge of the pavement into the gravel surprised to find about a four-inch drop. I knew I had to go fast enough not to bog down in the gravel but slow enough to be able to make a sharp turn. I didn’t count on there being a drop off at the edge of the pavement. As I started my turn, I got the front wheel up on the road but bogged down just as the rear wheels came to the edge of the pavement. There I stopped. I was stuck.

Expletives deleted

There I sat. About a hundred yards past the turnaround. I remember thinking that things had gone so well. “What a disappointment this is going to be, to lose all those gains stuck here, just far enough past the course that no one notice me,” I thought. My teammate and I had talked about her meeting me at this point. For the life of me I can’t remember why I decided that would be unnecessary.

In my mind, I was rapidly depleting my lexicon of expletives. Frustration was overwhelming me. I needed to do something. I shifted down to my lowest gear and tried to rock back and forth. I just as well had been mired in a tar pit. I wasn’t budging. I was out of tricks. I was not going to get out of this without help.

There was a couple of City of Chesapeake workers parked in a pickup truck about thirty yards toward the race. I called out, “I could use some help over here!” Fortunately they heard me and one walked over. With a little shove, I was back on the road. Three minutes had been wasted.

On the Road Again

By the time I had gotten back into the race, the nature of the race had changed. All the elite runners were gone. The runners were more crowded. But the race was not the only thing changed. So was my attitude. I was mad. There is probably no better way to vent anger than a half marathon. I took my anger out on the cranks. I got a good boost from my little ordeal at the turnaround.

I stole a peek at my GPS and found that I seemed to be making up some of my lost time. I saw S- and D- still heading out. My teammate was waiting for me at mile 8. It was good to see familiar faces and that picked me up a bit.

It felt like I had a tailwind heading out. Now it felt like a tailwind again heading back. This course was just right. I slowly passed some of the folks that had passed me at the turn around. By the time I got to mile 10, I knew I was doing pretty well. Again I remembered GM‘s advice to save some energy for the end. Sorry, GM. Not now.

Pretty soon I was moving along pretty well. The runners were spaced just right. I would set my sights on someone in the distance and focus on catching them. I kept leap-frogging along the course on the way back. The thought of the time I had lost was still “inspiring” me.

Bear Sightings

At about mile 12.5 I thought I could see the “Bear” off in the distance. The Bear is a wood carving of a bear that stands erect about 15 feet high at the entrance to the park. Again I felt a boost and began to pick up my cadence. I looked at my GPS. I had forgotten to start my GPS until about a minute and a half after the start. I had tried to calculate an “offset” to add to the time on my GPS based on the clocks on the course. I was a little too preoccupied. My time was good, but I didn’t know exactly what it was.

I normally have a hard time getting my heart rate up. I can go faster when I do, but I think I’m just not using enough muscle mass to stimulate my heart. About mile 13, however, I thought my heart would leap out of my chest. There, about 15 feet back in the swamp was a black bear! Not a big bear, but about a two foot tall bear. If I hadn’t seen this same fellow the day before, I would have been scared out of my mind. This was a stuffed bear that was on display at the expo the day before. It sure got me going, nevertheless.

The finish was a very fast sprint. I guess GM had prevailed after all. I had taken an unplanned rest smack in the middle of the race. Just enough (with the help of the heart rate boost from the bear) to give me plenty of energy at the end. Funny how that works.

Goals Too Low

Charlie was waiting for me at the finish. He was still a bit winded from his final kick. I couldn’t believe my time. 1:32! I had hoped for, maybe, 1:45; on a good day. It took me quite a while to believe my 1:32. Charlie had a PR for his run, too.


I had never dreamed of such a time. All I wanted to do was to finish somewhere in the middle of the pack and have fun. So maybe it’s time to reconsider those goals. Maybe I should challenge myself to finish up front with the Kenyans…

2008 Miles

A year ago I challenged myself to handbike 2008 miles to raise money for and awareness of the needs of wounded warriors. I picked that number because it seemed to be a good stretch goal to prepare for the Marine Corps Marathon in 2008. By keeping a daily log of my training, I have been amazed at how quickly the miles have accumulated. As my workouts have increased in length, my goal of 2008 miles drew near quickly. Like the DSS, I surprised myself again.


So it was, that on the same week of the thirtieth anniversary of my disability...one night I was out for a training ride…I rolled past the 2008 mile point. I passed this goal far earlier than I expected. Another goal too low? Maybe. I think the journey has been far more motivating than I expected. I have been inspired by hundreds of people along the way. We have marked the spot on the street in my neighborhood to continue to inspire me every time I pass.

So what’s next? The Dam2Dam 100 miler? The Sadler Alaska Challenge? Maybe a ride across the US? We’ll see. Right now I still have two more goals to fulfill. I’m still preparing for the Marine Corps Marathon and its steep hills. And I’m still one-third of the way to my fundraising goal of $26,200 for Wounded Warriors.

My participation in events such as this are dedicated to the honor and memory of service men and women wounded in Iraq and Afghanistan and their families. I raise money with my campaign, 2008 Miles of Hope, through donations to Hope For The Warriors. I’m not a wounded warrior, I’m a grateful beneficiary of their sacrifices. Learn more about Hope For The Warriors.

So please, if you follow this blog make a donation to my fundraising campaign to support wounded warriors, 2008 Miles of Hope. And ask your friends to do so, too. All the money I raise goes to Hope For The Warriors. This phenomenal organization provides Warrior Wishes, Direct Needs Grants, and Spouses’ Scholarships. Now they have embarked on the creation of the Warrior Hope and Care Center, a rehabilitation and wellness facility for wounded warriors.

You can easily make a donation to Hope For The Warriors by using my secure credit card donation site:

http://www.active.com/donate/2008Miles

Or donate by check. Download our donation form, fill it out, and send it to me with your donation to my address on the form:

Donation form.pdf

-Let's Roll!

Hope, Inspiration, and a Promise

2008 Miles Of Hope is the name my wife/teammate, and I have given to our campaign to raise money for Hope For The Warriors. It has been one of the most fulfilling endeavors we have ever undertaken. We have met many great and inspiring people and we have traveled to a lot of interesting places. In short, 2008 Miles Of Hope has three parts that I call hope, inspiration, and a promise.

Hope

Hope is the human condition that causes us to be something beyond what we are now. In 2006, I watched handcyclists competing in the Marine Corps Marathon. My teammate and I were there to support my niece, T, who was running her first marathon. It was the first time I had watched a marathon in person. Even before breaking my neck in a swimming pool accident thirty years ago, I had dreamed of taking part in a marathon. As a C-6 quadriplegic, I’ve always found pushing a wheelchair to be difficult. The thought of pushing one through a marathon, was just a dream.

Seeing the Marine Marathon handcyclists gave me hope. A handbike uses different muscles than does a wheelchair. “I think I can do that,” I said to myself. Completing the Marine Corps Marathon in 2008 has become my goal number one.

Inspiration

Seeing thousands of charity runners dedicate themselves to their causes filled me with inspiration. How could I turn my training for the MCM into a greater good? I learned about Hope For The Warriors through their 2007 Run For The Warriors. THIS was to be our cause. Because of my disability, I am sensitive to the sacrifices of the wounded warriors and their needs. Both my teammate and I grew up in military families. And because of my disability, we understand effect of disabilities on families and the important role of the family in the recovery process.

In July of 2007 we stood up our fundraising campaign. My second goal became a mission to handbike over 2008 miles to raise awareness of and raise money for the wounded warriors. Our message: Life with a disability is not a life filled with despair; it is a life filled with hope. I initially thought our example would inspire others. However, it is we who have been inspired over and over by an overwhelming outpouring of support for our cause by family, friends, athletes we have met along the way, and just ordinary people. My greatest and continuing inspiration is my teammate, who enables every mile I undertake. She has also taken up running and just completed her first 8K race at the Shamrock in Virginia Beach.

A Promise

Goal number three became a promise to raise $26,200 for Hope For The Warriors. The number is $1,000 for every mile in the first goal, the Marine Corps Marathon. It has taken all our spare time. Many nights we are up well beyond our bed time stuffing envelopes. So far, the response has been overwhelming. This is a gracious and compassionate land that we live in. The generosity of our contributors has been amazing.

Hope For The Warriors

The union of our goals for 2008 Miles of Hope with those of Hope For The Warriors has been a natural fit. Their vision of “hope beyond recovery,” the inspiration of the indomitable spirit of the wounded warriors and their families, and their promise of “no sacrifice forgotten, nor need unmet,” has assured us over and over that indeed, their cause is our cause.

So, how are we doing?
(updated 09.16.2008)

Basically, we are having the times of our lives! For goal number one, I have completed two marathons, seven half marathons, and eight 10K races in preparation for the 2008 MCM. For goal number two, I have completed over 2400 miles since last July. And for goal number three, we have raised over $10,000 for Hope For The Warriors.

Help us help heroes

Join us in supporting Hope For The Warriors. You can make a donation through our campaign at http://www.active.com/donate/2008Miles. Follow our progress at this blog. Each time you visit, please post a comment. And JOIN US at the 2008 Run for the Warriors!

The only things we cannot achieve
Are those things we cannot dream.

-LetsRoll!

The Crystal Coast Half Marathon

A Handcrank Participant’s View From Ten Inches Off The Road

It rained. No it poured. It blew. It blew a gale. The Atlantic Beach bridge grew another 10 feet in height. OK, I’m making up that last part.

After a week of beautiful sunny weather, the Crystal Coast Half Marathon’s inaugural event started out amidst the wettest and windiest day of 2008 so far. If it were summer it would have been a tropical storm.

My teammate ran the 5K. I did the half marathon.

The race director arranged for a bicyclist to escort me on the course. She didn’t realize what she was signing up for. What a great sport! What a great support crew! Through the grittiest rain and the staunchest winds she hung in there, soaked to the bone, constantly encouraging me and chatting.


Everyone was hopeful that the rain had passed. The race started with winds at about 20 MPH SSW. That gave me a slight tailwind as we traveled east on Arendell Street. At mile 1.5, my mother braved the storm and walked out to the street to cheer for me. At about mile three the lead runners began to catch me as I approached the port. It is always inspiring to see the frontrunners in a race. Heidi Tucker, the women division winner, looked like she flew as her long strides pulled her through the storm.

By now my teammate was beginning her race.

I turned south on Fourth Street and thought I had hit a brick wall. The wind was howling around the end of Sugarloaf Island and being funneled in between buildings. It blew so hard I was beginning to have my doubts about crossing the bridge. As I turned back west on Evans Street, the crosswind had a slight headwind component, giving me an additional challenge. I passed mile 4 and could feel the wind freshening and the temperature dropping. My bike escort was right there grinding along beside me. It was starting to rain.

The other runners were great! Many were friends with whom I had participated before. Many called me by name. Many stuck out a thumbs-up. Many yelled out encouragement. Everyone should experience this kind of support for something they do in their life. It’s no wonder I’m hooked.

But what about that bridge? The wind was still freshening. It was starting to rain pretty hard. The gusts were probably up to 30 MPH. I approached the foot of the bridge where it was about mile 4.5. The wind was almost straight head-on.

I started training on this bridge last summer. I need the gradient to train for my ultimate quest, the Marine Corps Marathon. I’ve been across the bridge with 20 MPH winds before. That usually means grinding along slowly in my lowest gear if it’s a headwind. I figured the southward ascent up the steep side of the bridge would be on the lee side of the bridge. That would take some of the sting out of the wind until I got near the top.

Riding at Bogue Banks has become almost a weekly ritual for my teammate and me. We have ridden up and down highway 58 from Fort Macon to Indian Beach in training. We had ridden this very course in all kinds of weather. The previous weekend I cranked across this bridge six times. It’s a good thing.

The first few yards of the climb up the bridge slowed me to a crawl. My bicycle escort dismounted and started walking. The rain was now a full-fledged downpour. I think every runner that passed me shouted in encouragement. The spirit on the course was awesome! The steepest part of the bridge is about at mile 5. It’s a 6.3% grade. I know this because my teammate had measured it with a digital inclinometer (did I mention we were serious about this?).

Eighty feet in the air on that bridge, gusts were probably 40 miles an hour. The rain was like one of those summer thunderstorms when your windshield wipers can’t go fast enough to see. In, fact I could only see about thirty feet in front of me. The combination of the wind and the rain literally stung my face like being sprayed with a fire hose. Runners were shielding their faces with their hands and arms as they charged the blast.

By now my teammate had finished the 5K. She remarked that they could see black cloud obscuring the top of the bridge. At the finish line there was a combined air of angst; 5K’ers and spectators were concerned about family members enveloped in somewhere that storm.

I don’t know how to describe this but I’ll try. The resistance from the wind normally slows me down. This wind, with the added mass of gallons of rain, on top of the grueling grade of the bridge, made me feel like a salmon trying to swim up a waterfall. Now I understand why they jump out of the water.

The trudge, or swim, south on the Atlantic Beach Causeway was still a slow, grueling, grind. Many of the race volunteers had bailed, presumably assuming the race would be cancelled. Most did not. They were right there, at their stations. One group of youngsters steadfastly handed out water and cheered the runners at mile six in the worst of the torrent. I tried to thank every volunteer and policeman I saw on the course.

By the time I reached the Atlantic Beach light, about eight inches of rain had accumulated in the street. Runners were darting through parking lots and along curbs, trying to stay out of the puddles. As I plowed through the water, surely as high as my seat, I thought to myself, “This guarantees it. Now there’s not a dry spot on my body.”

By now the rain had subsided. The eastward dash out Fort Macon Road was under crosswinds and was sheltered somewhat by the tall homes along the south side of the street. I was able to make up a good bit of time lost coming up the bridge. As I passed runners, I felt a genuine aura of relief, as if they were glad to see I had survived the stormy bridge onslaught. I caught up with another runner from Hope For The Warriors and other friends who had passed me on the bridge. We exchanged mutual cheers of support for each other. March’s lion-like downpour had not dampened the spirits of these racers.

Once I was back to the Atlantic Beach Causeway at mile 10.5 I received a well-deserved reward. A tailwind. A 20 MPH tailwind. I leaned back against my backrest, stretched out my arms, and pulled; instantly rewarded with a blast of speed. It was a great feeling, like my memories of sailing on a beam reach in Beaufort Inlet. The words out my mouth described exactly how it felt: “Yee-ha!”

The wind pounding against the upslope of the bridge amplified the wind speed, making the return climb up the bridge “a piece of cake.” At the top, the gale blasting at our backs, I checked with my loyal escort, “Got brakes?” Shouting to other runners at the top of my lungs, “Passing on the right!” I crested the peak and zipped down the lee side of the bridge. It became obvious that the handful of runners descending the bridge in front of me were deafened by the howl of the wind. They couldn’t hear my warnings. For our mutual safety, I rode my brakes heavily down the last half of the hill, although I’m sure I startled one runner as I weaved around her at the bottom of the incline.

The rest of the course was a milk run. It was, however, an honor to pass the home of my dear friend, JT-, with whom I share a similar disability. She had been driven indoors earlier by the weather so I shouted her name as I cranked past her porch.



At the finish line, runners and spectators lined the finish chute, cheering loudly. I have never received such an enthusiastic reception at the finish. I think it was partly because of the shared experience with the weather of the runners, spectators, and volunteers and partly just the indomitable friendly nature of my fellow Crystal Coasters. The finisher’s medal, appropriately enough, bears a picture of the Atlantic Beach Bridge, my formidable adversary that day. I hugged the volunteer who hung the prize around my neck.



So, how did I do? My time was 2:21:13. I’ve done better, but given my experience with the “speedbump” in the course, I’m happy. In the “is the glass half full or half empty” department, this was the inaugural Crystal Coast Half Marathon and I was the only handcrank participant. That not only makes me the winner in my (albeit unofficial) division, it makes me the course (handcrank) record holder! Not only that, but my teammate, won in her age group. So now she is a 5K course record holder for her division, too! That ought to give my mother enough bragging rights amongst her quilting friends for a while.

Looking back, if you factor out the miserable weather, what is left is a feeling of incredible camaraderie amongst the runners who endured the trek together, the mutual support we all shared along the way, a huge feeling of gratitude for the volunteers and police who were there along the way, and a overwhelming sense of accomplishment at the end. Those are the memories I’ll savor until the end of my days.

My participation in events such as this are dedicated to the honor and memory of service men and women wounded in Iraq and Afghanistan and their families. I raise money with my campaign, 2008 Miles of Hope, through donations to Hope For The Warriors. I’m not a wounded warrior, I’m a grateful beneficiary of their sacrifices. Learn more about Hope For The Warriors.

Please donate to my fundraising campaign to support wounded warriors, 2008 Miles of Hope. All the money I raise goes to Hope for The Warriors. This phenomenal organization provides Warrior Wishes, Direct Needs Grants, and Spouses’ Scholarships. Now they have embarked on the creation of a Hope and Care Center, a rehabilitation and wellness facility for wounded warriors.

You can easily make a donation to Hope For The Warriors by using my secure credit card donation site:

http://www.active.com/donate/2008Miles

Or donate by check. Download our donation form, fill it out, and send it to me with your donation to my address on the form:

Donation form.pdf

-Let's Roll!