Running With Cicadas

There is nothing pleasant or pleasing about this post. This post is about running with cicadas, or maybe more appropriately running on cicadas.


We are currently living through a swarm of the 17-year cicada. There are literally millions of them in our tiny, wooded village outside Cincinnati. They come out of the ground, climb up trees, shed their grub like skin and start buzzing around. For two or three weeks they fly around trying to find a mate that lays eggs in the branches of trees, and then they all die. The larvae drop from the branches, burrow into the ground and lay there for another 17 years. Meanwhile the millions of dead cicadas stink up the place.

Not much of a life if you ask me - 17 years living underground and then two weeks to get lucky before you die.

Now the thing about cicadas are that hey are harmless. They don’t bite, they don’t sting, they just annoy. They are not very good flyers and are constantly flying into things including people. I imagine living underground for 17 years will do that to you.

Since they don’t fly well, they are often getting together on the ground. Many times they get together in the street. In the morning when it is dark, and you are out for a run, well – you get the picture - crunch, crunch, crunch.

The run I had when the swarm was at its height was the grossest run I ever had. I would take running in the rain over trying to avoid the little buggers on the road and the disgusting sound when there were too many to miss – crunch, crunch, crunch.

Even though I hated it, I have only one wish. That is to still be running 17 years from now when they come back.

What is a ¼ mile worth?

From: Denise Sweeney
To: Dennis Purcell
Sent: Thursday, May 22, 2008 12:36 PM
Subject: Flying Pig Marathon


Thank you for your email.

We just received the results from the 2008 Flying Pig Race Officials.

Your time of 3:29:25 at the 2008 Flying Pig Marathon will be accepted for the April 20, 2009 Boston Marathon. Registration will begin on our website on September 3, 2008 at www.baa.org.

Best of luck with your training! We look forward to your participation in the 113th running of the Boston Marathon!

Denise Sweeney
Manager, Registration Processing
Boston Athletic Association
1 Ash Street
Hopkinton, MA 01748
508-435-6905
Sweeney@baa.org

So I am in. I am a qualifier. It is an achievement I am very proud of, and even though it did not happen the way I had envisioned, it still feels good. It also allows me to tell you what the end of the Flying Pig was really like. I had not wanted to say much about it in case it sounded too pitiful or like I was whining.

As I have said before, I started to slow around mile 23. Up until this point, I had tried to push the thought of actually qualifying out of my mind. Sure I was trying to stay on a qualifying pace, but I wanted to allow myself an out if things got too bad. I knew I had some cushion, but it really started to be a struggle. Still I was feeling good about my chances. I had not really thought too much about the detour, because at the time, I really did not know how much distance it had added. I ran that “mile” in 8:35 which I attributed to my slowing down. In fact I had run that mile in 7:10 – the fastest of the race.

During mile 25 I heard what I thought was the 3:30 pace group coming up on me. I felt I must be mistaken because I had almost a two minute cushion by my calculations. But when the pace group leader passed me holding up that balloon with “3:30” on it I was crestfallen. How could that have happened? How could it all be slipping away so close to the finish?

I bore down and tried to keep up, but as they continued to pull away I became discouraged. This was exactly what I did not want to happen. I had raced hard, pushed my body and would come up just short. I would be physically drained and sore after the race and not have a BQ to show for it. I thought I was stupid for trying. I should have been happy just running easy, enjoying the race and not worrying about time. But that is not how I am wired.

The point from when the pace group passed me until mile 26 was the low point of the race. It might be the low point of my athletic career. How could I have thought I could run that fast? Why was it important? It certainly did not feel very important right then. It is no wonder that with this all going on in my head and the fatigue of 25 miles in my body that this was the slowest mile of the race.

When I hit the 26 mile marker something clicked in me. In one of those moments that can only happen late in a marathon when the body is failing and the mind does not think straight I saw the clock at “3:30:15”. I had 0.2 miles to go. Maybe I can still make it I thought. Maybe with the difference between my gun time and the chip time I had a chance! I picked up the pace and gave everything I had. I knew I had 44 seconds on the gun time. The next 1:50 was the most painful of my life, but it represented a time when I pushed myself further than I had thought possible. Good thing my mind was not thinking clearly enough to calculate that I would have needed a 7:25 pace to get in under 3:30:59. I would never had tried.

I crossed the line and checked my watch – 3:32:12. Even with the 44 seconds I knew I had not made it. You know you are not in good shape when a volunteer takes your arm and asks you twice if you are alright. Looking at my finish line photo I can now see why. My expression was pained and I was unsteady on my feet.

I walked through the finish area, got a bottle of water and sat down on the curb. My legs would not work. I could not muster the energy to stand and I was dejected.

I knew I had missed a BQ and I knew I had not missed it by much. I had run a great race and had a PR and a time I should be proud of, but it was not what I wanted. I felt mad that I was not strong enough at the end to push harder. At the same time I was mad at myself for feeling so selfish. I had just ran a PR, and by a significant margin. I did not want to always say I had just missed a BQ as a preface to a wonderful finish time. It was the oddest mixture of feelings I ever had.

In the end it all worked out. According to my watch I passed the 26 mile marker in a chip time of 3:29:25. This would have been equivalent to 26.2 miles. There are many things you can’t control on race day, but one thing should always be the same – the race should be 26.2 miles long. I do not fault the race organizers – they did a great job with an extremely difficult situation and always had the safety of the firefighters, racers and volunteers as the main consideration.

During my training runs I had always thought of how I would react when I crossed with a BQ. Arms raised, tears of joy cries of “I did it!” None of that happened, but a BQ is a BQ.

I am very appreciative of the Pig and Boston for considering the extra distance of the race. Now it is time to get ready. The recovery is over and the base training begins. I can’t wait to toe the line in Hopkinton next April.

No matter what comes, now I will always be a qualifier.

The Joy Of Running

Tomorrow is the first day that I can really run after the marathon. For the first few days I could hardly walk, let alone run. I felt so stiff and sore; I wondered if I would ever run again. The whole family thought it funny (in a nice way) that this guy who just ran 26.2 miles couldn’t walk down the stairs without a struggle.

When Hillary and I went out for our Tuesday morning run, I tried to run a few steps and then said I could not do it. She would have to run on her own. I walked for three miles, while she went ahead and ran. I struggled to keep from trying to run, knowing it would do more harm than good.

Later that week, I was playing ball with our dog Molly when I noticed how much she loved running. If you ever want to see what the pure joy of running looks like, play ball with a dog. The eyes flash, the tail wags the ears lay back and she goes for all she is worth, just to drop the ball at my feet and do it again.

Seeing her run I realized how much joy there is in running for me, and I how much I miss it when I can’t get out on the road and chase my own kind of ball. Of course for me, the ball is not a purely physical thing; unless you count the physical fitness that comes from running. That is one of my goals, but there is more. There is the emotional and mental fitness that comes from pushing against the ground and propelling oneself through the air. Moving your body and engaging the mind until the whole process turns into a kind of joy – the joy of running.

I wonder sometimes if my eyes flash like Molly’s when I run.

2008 Cincinnati Flying Pig Race Report

I went into this race feeling very good. My training had gone well, averaging 50 miles a week. I was in great shape. My last long run had been a 16 miler at an 8:05 pace, over a very hilly course. I felt that I had a shot at 3:30, which was my BQ, but everything had to go perfectly for me to reach that goal. As the race drew nearer I made up my mind to give it a shot.

The morning of the race was great. At the 6:30am start the sky was clear, the sun just coming up and temperatures in the upper 40’s. I decided to line up with the 3:30 pace group and see how things went. At 6:25 they announced that at the 20-mile mark of the course there had been a house fire, so they were delaying the start 15 minutes and making a detour on the course. They announced it would make the course “a smidgen longer”. Everyone was in a good mood and the weather was nice so it was not that big of a deal.

I stayed with the pace group over the bridges into Kentucky and then back into Cincinnati. I stuck with them up the long climb to mile 9. I was feeling OK, but I was wishing I had tapered a little more the week prior to the marathon.

From mile 9 to mile to mile 16 I picked up the pace, not really on purpose, but because I was feeling good and I did not seem like I pushing. My legs did start to feel it at this point, but I kept telling myself to run the mile I was in – I think I heard that from Matt at the Dump Runners’ Club – and it helped.

When I got to Mile 20 I was about 2 minutes ahead of pace and starting to think it might be possible to BQ. I knew I was slowing, but I thought I just might have enough to make it. Then we hit the detour caused by the fire and I started to get concerned. It seemed like a significant addition, but there was not much I could do about it.

At Mile 23 things started to unravel. My mind was willing, but there was just no response in my legs. I started to give back time. Mile 23 – 8:35, Mile 24 – 8:24, Mile 25 – 8:51. It was here that the 3:30 pace group caught and passed me. I heard them say they were a minute ahead of pace, so I still had some hope. Mile 26- 10:19. I tried to push, throw in some surges, put there was nothing left. The last 0.2 in 1:50 for a final chip time of 3:31:26 – 27 seconds away from a BQ.

Now that is the bad news, well not all of the bad news. The “smidgen” of a detour, they announced later, had added ¼ mile to the course. I missed a BQ by 27 seconds on a course that was ¼ mile too long!

But there is good news. This was a PR. My previous best was 3:33:49 in 2001, my first marathon. That was also before my ACL replacement in my left knee. Last year, my first marathon after surgery I ran a 3:50. I had improved 19 minutes from last year and 2 minutes from my all time best.

After the race I was drained and having bad cramping in both legs. I thought it best to go to the medical tent and on my way there my left calf cramped up and I went down. They wheeled me into the medical area, gave me some chips, water and a muscle massage. I felt a little guilty using the medical services for something like cramps, but in hindsight it was the best thing to do.

I learned a few things from this race:

1. I should have done some runs longer than 16 and at a marathon goal pace. My weekly mileage and speed work was good, but I think I needed some longer runs.

2. I should have tapered more the week prior to the marathon. My legs felt heavier than they should have early in the race.

3. I should have stayed with the pace group longer, even if I felt the pace was too slow. It might have saved me later in the race.

2. I should have drunk more on the course. I thought I had done well drinking, but the cramping after the race and my last mile, indicates that I was de-hydrated.

5. I know I can reach a BQ if things go right and I correct a few things in my training and racing.

I must say, I feel this was a bittersweet race. I am happy with a PR, but it is too close to a BQ that I can’t stop thinking “what-if”. I am sure time will put things into better perspective, but right now it is hard.

I want to thank John Ellis for looking over my training plan back in January and recommending a few changes. I think it made a big difference.

A Runner's Prayer

Every run is special. It does not matter if it is good or bad, fast or slow. Being out there in the darkness of the early morning I feel at peace and closer to God. After every run, I say this prayer in the hopes that I will be able to continue to run:

Dear God, thank you for these legs that have carried over the miles.
May you bless them and keep them strong and healthy and running for many years,
And may they always walk in the path you have laid out before them.

Thank you for this heart that pumps blood and energy throughout my body.
May you bless it and keep it strong and healthy and beating for many years.
And may it be filled with your spirit so that your light may shine on others through me.

And thank you for this mind that gives me the discipline to get up and out the door,
and the will to keep going when I feel like stopping.
Like Solomon I ask only for wisdom; the wisdom to know your will and the courage to follow where it leads.

All this I ask in the name of your son, my savior, Jesus Christ, who with you and the Holy Spirit are honored and glorified, forever and ever. Amen.

It seems like the least I can do,

THE WALL AWAITS?

Here it is. Decision time. I have done the training and run my last long run, and run it in strong fashion I might add. Now I have to decide how I will run my race.

In two weeks I will line up for the Flying Pig Marathon. My first Pig and first marathon was back in 2001 and I ran a 3:33 and hit the wall hard. I have never hurt so badly in my life. It is funny, I can’t remember exactly how it felt, but I do remember telling someone after the race that every part of my body hurt – even my hair hurt. I do not want to experience that again.

In 2004 I ran The Pig as part of my training for the Vermont City Marathon that was four weeks later. I ran a smart race, paced myself and finished in 3:38. I felt great at the end and ran even better at the end of the month in Vermont (3:37).

Then I blew out my left knee and faced a long rehab. In 2007 I ran The Pig again, just to prove I could do it. I trained using the “moderate consistent” plan and just wanted to finish in maybe less than 4 hours. I again ran smart, finished strong and crossed the line in 3:50.

Now this year. This will be the fourth time I have run The Pig and I may be in the best condition yet. I have trained very well. I have done speed work and increased my mileage to 48-54 miles a week. Last Saturday I ran my last 16 miler at an 8:05 pace, which started me to thinking – what if I could run a 3:30? That would be a qualifier!

The race predictors say I should be able to run a 3:35 based on my training and recent race times. So, if I push it a little could I get a 3:30? It would be an incredible accomplishment. But if I do push that hard is the wall waiting for me? Hitting it again would take much of the joy out the race, but qualifying would be like a dream comes true.

I suspect the decision will be made on race day, at the starting line. What the weather is like, how my taper goes, how am I feeling, all the usual factors. I trust that I will be able to change my goals mid race if conditions change. But I am already starting to feel like I may have to go for it.

And if I hit the wall and my hair starts to hurt again – well, I have a lot less hair now than I did in 2001.

YOU DON'T NEED A WEATHERMAN

I am an outside runner. It does not matter what the weather – I run outside. I cannot say exactly why I am so stubborn about it, but I have never found a day when I would not run outside.

We actually have a treadmill that my wife and kids use. It is in our bedroom which means that if I used it when I run in the early morning; I would wake the whole family up. But it does not matter if we kept it in the basement – I still would not use it.

Since I run in the early morning, it is never too hot and the colder it is the more layers I wear. It is kind of fun to run when it is super-cold – like below 10F. The icicles start to form on the eyelids and frost covers your hat. It makes for a pretty cool picture when you are done.

Recently I ran in a blizzard – 25F, snow and wind. I had a 15 mile run scheduled so I just kept doing a 2 mile loop around my neighborhood. The road would cover over with snow, the snow plow would come by and clear the road. It would get snow covered again, the plow would come, and I repeated the cycle for 8 loops; sometimes on clear roads, sometimes on snow covered roads. I got some really odd looks from my neighbors.

The one type of weather I hate is rain. Now I am sure that there are people that like running in the rain. My daughter that runs cross country and track told me she likes to run in the rain. I will run in the rain, but I don’t like it – I endure it. I dislike everything about it, the wet shoes, and the clinging clothes. If there is one type of weather that makes me think twice about running outside it is rain.

But I do it. I just can’t run without the feeling of pushing against the ground and the sensation of propelling my body through space. The weather is just another element, another obstacle, like a hill, to be overcome. Outside I am focused, centered and things become clear as my progress is marked by landmarks and not a digital counter on the treadmill display.

Running inside to me just feels like cheating, but next time it is pouring rain as I step out the door, I may wish that treadmill was in the basement.