Hold Your Trainer Accountable

Hold Your Trainer Accountable

By Dave Turpin of Desk Jockey Fitness

If you are working with a professional personal trainer you know first hand that it is a significant investment in time, effort and money. In most cases the trainer is the expert, authority, role model, teacher, mentor and coach; the client is the student taking direction from the trainer and relying on the trainer’s experience, expertise and knowledge.

On the surface it may appear as if most information transfer goes from the trainer to the client. In reality, the most important function of a good trainer is the ability to listen to what the client is saying or is not saying; to observe the client’s posture, gait, body language, emotional states and energy levels. Great trainers constantly have the antennas on high alert looking for verbal, visual, and subliminal feedback from the client. Tactically, this information is used as a guidepost to adjust the level of intensity for the current session. Strategically, the information needs to be considered when determining the client’s long-term plan. In trainer-speak, this long-term plan is called exercise program periodization.

In most if not all of the big membership based gyms, where personal training revenue is secondary to monthly, electronically drafted membership fees, the concept of the new member “free assessment” is not much more than an ice-breaker. This ice-breaker serves two fundamental purposes:

1. It helps the client become acclimated to the daunting sea of strength machines, free weights, and cardiovascular machines. This is the selling point of the free assessment and benefit to the new member.
2. It allows the club’s trainer to establish a rapport with the new member. This opens the pathways to up-sell personal training services to the new member which is a benefit to the club.

There’s nothing wrong with the free assessment as long as the new member understands what is going on. For example, would the trainer still be offering assistance to the new member if option B didn’t exist? In some cases yes, when the trainer is one who truly cares for other people. Would the club management be driving or endorsing free assessments without the possibility of a follow-up sale of personal training services? Probably not.

In the private personal training studio trainers should be held to a higher standard. In most cases the service fees are higher, the overhead of the business to provide personal training services is higher because personal training is not being subsidized by membership fees, and the experience, training and expertise of the trainers are higher. In the private studio environment, the client has every right to demand a higher standard.

In the personal training studio environment, the client assessment should not be a lead generation system. Assessments should be used to serve several purposes including:

1. The initial assessment should establish a baseline of flexibility, strength, coordination, agility and stability. This information then needs to be correlated with the client’s stated goals, experience, exercise and medical history, and level of commitment to determine the client’s initial program design. This is putting the “personal” in personal training. The client’s program design should reflect the client’s physical and mental realities and not be cloned from a previous program that seemed to work for someone else. Or worse, the program should not be a derivative of the trainer’s exercise program.

2. Periodic reassessments needs to occur for one simple reason: To see if the client is moving towards her stated goals. How would you feel if you went to your physician who determined that you had high cholesterol; followed his instructions and “exercised and ate well” for six months exactly as prescribed, but never had your cholesterol retested? Would you feel as if your personal sacrifices were worth it if you didn’t know your cholesterol went down? Probably not! So why do clients let their trainers off the hook by not getting reassessed and comparing the results against their previous benchmarks.

In today’s personal training marketplace, the initial client assessment is ubiquitous. Everyone does it. Clients expect it. The scope and depth of the initial assessment varies widely but its prevalence is indisputable.

In my opinion, re-assessments are rarely performed even in high-end studios. The client’s “cholesterol” is seldom rechecked. Why is this? There are several contributing factors.

First and foremost, what is the reliability of the tests performed during the initial assessment? Are the tests repeatable? If the client had the same tests performed by the same trainer who was unable to “remember” the results of the previous test, would the same results be determined? For simple performance based tests, such as the push-up test or bench press test, sure. But for tests that require skill and observation of the trainer such as postural analysis, movement screens, and functional skills are administered, the consistency of the test results will be driven by the skill and experience of the test administrator.

Second, how would the client feel if the reassessment determined that the last four weeks of exercise have actually heightened postural dysfunction, tightened long weak muscle groups, and loss range of motion in poorly functioning joints? How would the trainer respond to the client’s concerns? If I were the client I would want to find out in four-to-six weeks that my program design was not working. It beats getting injured in four-to-six months because the flaws in my program design were not identified early on and exasperated my pre-existing conditions.

Thirdly, there is the nagging fear on the trainer’s part that the client will feel reassessments are a waste of time. That the time used for the reassessments would be better used on the floor exercising. This fear on the trainer’s part CANNOT be overcome until he is confident in the reliability and repeatability of the assessment process. Nor can the trainer’s fear be overcome if he does not have alternative approaches to meeting the client’s stated fitness goals in the event that his first or second approach did not yield favorable results.

Lastly, and this is where the personal training consumers can make a difference, is that clients do not expect or DEMAND verification of their progress based on S.M.A.R.T (specific, measurable, achievable, realistic and time-based) principles.

For many clients, having a trainer holding them accountable is a great advantage over trying to get in shape on their own. Just knowing that they have an appointment with the trainer at a minimum ensures that they show up and once there, do something. The question each personal training client needs to ask themselves is “Am I getting the most value out of my personal training investments?”

If clients are not being re-assessed; if their exercise programs are not being validated against their stated goals; if clients are not being refocused on new and progressed goals… They just might have one heck of an expensive rent-a-friend program.

Savvy clients will ensure the highest value and ROI for their fitness expenditures by demanding their trainers raise the bar by learning the skills and providing the services that benchmark, retest and refocus goals and activities. Borrowing from our current presidential candidates, the time for change is now… It’s time to hold your trainer accountable.

Frosty 5k Series Kicks Off

Frosty 5k Series Kicks Off This Saturday, Jan. 12th

Following the overwhelming success of our 5K Walk/Run Series this summer, you asked that we offer something different for the winter. After searching, we discovered that your Mecklenburg County Greenways were getting lonely this winter and wanted company. So, starting January 12, you can EXPLORE THE COUNTY YOU'RE IN by heading out to Mallard Creek Greenway to walk, run, or skip in the cool Charlotte air.

EVENT LOCATIONS
JAN 12 - Mallard Creek
FEB 2 - MCAlpine Creek
MAR 1 - Freedom Park

Events begin at 9 a.m. / Check-In begins 7:30 a.m.

As always, kids are highly encouraged to participate with just a $5 registration fee with a paid adult. Lowes Foods will be providing plenty of post event snacks and hot coffee.

Athlete Profile - Scott Bodien and Your First Ironman

Your First Ironman

“A journey is like marriage. The certain way to be wrong is to think you control it.”
- John Steinbeck

At long last I have achieved this amazing goal in my life. I am happy yet sore, wondering how I ever got to this point. As many of you know, tackling a goal like a Full Distance Triathlon is one that takes much time and preparation. My journey in the world of triathlons started in March of 2003 with a sprint triathlon in Charlotte before I even moved there. On that final lap of the run I was overcome with emotion that I would finish. It was a powerful feeling. I have never forgotten that emotion and have kept it close to me through the four plus years of rollercoasting that would follow.

Following the conclusion of the 2006 season, I had completed five Half Ironman distance events. Not a single one of them was easy, but I knew that the time had come to dream the next seemingly impossible event. I have vivid memories of watching the Hawaii Ironman race at Kona as a boy. Who can forget Julie Moss crawling across the finish line? The agony of defeat. While I will most likely never make it to Kona, being a part of that dream was possible, and it started at home. The original contingent interested in Vineman met around the New Year to hear about the race and organize. Right at the start of the event, race announcer Steve King jokingly stated

“2.4 mile swim. 112 mile bike. 26.2 mile run. It sounded like a good idea when you wrote the check!”

Who in their right mind puts hundreds and hundreds of dollars down on a race so ridiculous so far in the future?!? I had thought of that rant, but I guess that was me. There were three key events during my ramp-up for this event. The first was the first sprint triathlon in the Charlotte area. It was my first race with my new super Trek Madone 5.2 named “Holman” after the original Erik Weihenmayer, Brit James Holman who was known during the early 19^th century as the “Blind Traveler.” Holman performed like a champ, and he better had since I could have bought another car with the money! The next was my mid-April marathon. Originally slated to be in St. Louis, I instead ended up running perhaps the most obscure marathon in America, located in Jackon, TN and of course named “The Andrew Jackson Marathon.” Talk about giving up an otherwise normal life. Instead of being at my friend’s wedding in the French countryside, I was in the Tennessee countryside being chased by dogs! I was very sick before this race, and thought I could tap out an 8 minute mile. With only 61 others, it was somewhat lacking in-field support. Okay, so it wasn’t everything I had hoped for, but considering the circumstances I was happy with my accomplishment. The training event was a Half Ironman in Georgia. The swim went fine, and I was on fire with the bike and ended up with my best Half bike time. That came at a great cost, as I suffered mightily under the sweltering Macon sun. Quite easily the nadir of my year, I had won the battle but lost the war. I would have to think and train smarter to make the leap I had only dreamed about.

The endless training and waiting game was the journey for me, ever present of the reality that I could very well not have the control any reasonable person could insist on when preparing for this event. But the show went on, getting up at 5AM for hundred mile rides, always running after work, never stopping. The run was the only portion I had accomplished before, so finally hitting that century mark was big for me. I completed four such rides, three of which included a brick run afterwards to train the muscles and psyche. The swim was a concern, but the least important of the three. Despite my performance in Macon, I continued to put the top emphasis on the bike, if only for the sake of coming off with the endurance necessary to Galloway my way across the finish line.

Tapering for the race began three weeks before. Even though the plane ticket had been bought a month or so ago and the motel arranged, it only really hit me when Holman was boxed up and shipped to Seattle what I had put myself into. I was not particularly looking forward to the taper, especially for this extended period. I do not play the waiting game all that well, and became relatively bored and anxious. The only upside was this meant the race was that much closer. Getting out at the 24 Hours of Booty event was great, but it was very restrictive as even with my 70 miles I knew I had gone too far.

Even packing turned me into a momentary OCD disaster! I had one carry-on with all my ultra important items just in case my checked baggage was lost. The wetsuit did not quite fit though. The journey proper began on Thursday the 2^nd with an early morning flight to SFO via Atlanta. Once through security with my bag I thought my worries were over. The flight was delayed thirty minutes, so I had to run like the wind through the Atlanta terminal. I fretted about my big bag the whole way to SFO. Thankfully my long legs were treated to exit rows on both legs and I had plenty of salty snacks to munch on through the day. And then there was my bag on the carousel!!

Temps were noticeably cooler. Naturally I had watched the Santa Rosa forecast like a hawk. The trend was in my favor, there was a cooling trend that would put sun on Saturday, but only with a high of 80 degrees. I took the hour plus journey north from SFO to Santa Rosa on a shuttle bus. As we passed over the Golden Gate Bridge I remembered I had recently been reading about it on Wikipedia (but not on a Saturday night!), specifically the crisis phones they have placed to prevent suicides. There they were! And lots of tourists, happily biking, walking, and running across. If only I felt happy about those things too! At the Charles Schulz Sonoma County airport I was met by my parents, whom had driven down in their camper van. Attached on the back was my ticket through nearly 80% of the mileage. Holman had magically reappeared and been reassembled for this mighty task. On the way out I couldn’t help but notice the barbecue that the air traffic controllers had hoisted to the top. Now that’s a special touch!

Directly north of Santa Rosa is the town of Windsor. The high school was the central T2 location of the Vineman triathlons. Once there we took the time to drive the run course. It snaked around the back end of the airport. The road was very rural, and seemed to have decent shade from the overhanging eucalyptus. There were three notable climbs. Whoever told me the run was similar to running in Dilworth must have found a sharp-pitched monster of a rise that I have not yet found! The course was simply 4.37 miles out. This meant three laps, six times on each leg. Ugh.

From there, we went to the motel then joined up with the other Vineman survivor from Charlotte, John Hoover. He was staying at the garish Flamingo Hotel. Our group then picked our way through Peanuts characters in the open area shopping area and finally decided on a steakhouse for dinner. The sirloin I had was rather tasty. And I forgot I did not have to say “unsweetened” ice tea when I ordered.

Friday was another long day of waiting, but thankfully the last. My family (known as Team Bodien) waited for its final member, my brother Andrew who drove from Portland. He arrived around the noon hour. From there we drove the bike course. This is the vine part of Vineman, endless miles of Sonoma County vineyards. The start at T1 was along the Russian River in Guerneville. It was cooler in this valley. My parents related to me having watched the weather trends that there would most likely be several hours of fog/cloud cover on race day. That should get me off the swim, and several hours into the bike. Biking east from there put you past the Korbel vineyards, then on to a monstrous CW loop north through the Dry Creek Valley, up Canyon Road, and then south through the Alexander Valley. The last major portion was the big hill on the course, Chalk Hill. While not too exposed, it was definitely pitched enough to be tough. I saw myself taking it strongly the first time around, but on the second loop and at mile 100, which would be another matter!

The pre-race meeting was in a jam-packed auditorium of the high school. I really had no concrete idea how many people were doing this race. There was no way to tell online how many were registered. My guess was 300-400 people. But being present with the others made me feel better. It lifted me out of my anxiety-ridden experience – just enough. Most of these people are just like me. And to clarify, there was another main event being run concurrently. Vineman is a number of races, the most popular being the open Half Ironman that was held two weeks earlier. This race featured some of the biggest names in the sport. There was another Half Ironman with my race, but it is a women’s only fundraiser event called “Barb’s Race.” There was one Charlottean type that completed this race, a woman named Jen who I met on one of my training rides.

After that we eventually found out way to a small corner Italian restaurant. Luigi had some great food! I tried hard not pig out, as I was following a specific plan. For those not aware, nutrition plays a key role to determine whether you have a good day or not. Unlike the big pasta gorging events for dinner the night before, I was trying to race smarter. I was in bed sometime after 9 and was pleased to fall asleep relatively quickly given my anxious state.

My first alarm was at 2:30 for breakfast. Four to five hours before race start about a 1000 calories. Four cans of Ensure (am I 64 yet? Is my name Norman? Does my belt come up to chest?), bagel with peanut butter, a banana. Deep breath. Reset the alarm for five. Fall asleep again. Up now, this time for real. Re-check all the bags. Move Holman into my brother’s car. All systems go. It is quiet, foggy, and quite cold outside. We briefly head up 101 before heading west towards Guerneville.

The first transition area is a gravel parking lot adjacent to Johnson’s Resort. The stones are larger than average, and carpets are set to move traffic from the swim and out to the bike, but the inside where Holman is racked is stone. I carefully prepare my site and then get in one of the longest lines I’ve seen raceday for the bathrooms. I got marked while in line and the fretted away my time. I came out of the bathroom dangerously close to the start. It was here that Team Bodien shined, holding out exactly what I needed and I quickly jumped into my wetsuit. I then ran to the gate. As I passed a random man helped me zip up. I threw on my swim cap, doused my goggles and waited towards the first wave, which had been waiting in the deep water area for numerous minutes. This stress could have been a disaster. Or was it worth it versus sitting around killing more time? This was the big moment I had been prepping for all these months. One last calm uttering of the Litany Against Fear. Its effect was calming – no repeats were needed. And then the airhorn I had waited forever to hear.

“The hall’s been rented, the orchestra engaged. It’s time to see if you can dance.”

The swim was in the Russian River. The water temperature was 75 degrees, which made it wetsuit legal, but not by much. It would have been my preference for much colder temperatures. My main concern was overheating. I had one or two swim workouts that got me close to two miles, but nothing closer. The course followed the river upstream along the southern shore, under a major railroad and road crossing. The morning fog and narrow channel was a new swimming experience for me. Above all I stayed calm. The buoyancy of the suit allowed virtually no leg work. Like any other triathlete I would burn my arms, only enough energy to hold on to the bike would be needed later that day. The current was only slightly present. I held back from my wave compatriots, all males under 40. Nice and easy. At the far end my hands struck gravel, they ended up getting banged up some. Even though I had read the race reports I was shocked by the experience. The journey back down to complete the first lap was rather pleasant for me. On my right I could barely make out the crowds cheering the athletes on. The prospect of another lap was daunting, but I continued focus on my technique and the relative unimportance of the swim. Making my way up river once again was harder than I remembered. Slowly different colored swim camps glided by me. One of the biggest mistakes a neophyte like myself can make is to race another. This was my race, and I was out to finish well. At the turnaround I momentarily put my knees down to look at my watch. It was turning to an hour. That wasn’t particularly helpful, I still don’t understand why. The last leg could have easily been frustrated, but I refused to let it get me down. My main concern was the alacrity in which the sun was appearing. We should have been afforded at least an hour or two of clouds on the bike. I knew something was amiss with the forecast. This was not going to be the 80 degree sunny day they talked about. It simply could not be helped. My training in the southern heat and humidity would pay off – I knew it deep down. When my time came at the absolutely shallowest point I touched down and swung my legs in to steady myself up. I looked at my watch and saw 1 hour 15 minutes. This was at the low end of my conservative range. Most excellent! Each lap was only minutes slower than my 1.2 mile swim PR at the Grand Columbian last September.

For the first time in my triathlon career, I was not in a rush. There was no running. I walked up calm and collected towards my bike. I did not like what I saw in front of me! One of the bozos around me had knocked my beautiful Holman down!! I saw my salt tablets strewn across my towel. Without those I would be in horrible shape. There was a flash of anger, tempered only by my top desire to see this thing through. I carefully picked up the tablets I saw, taking two of them with some water. I quickly looked over my bike, and then racked it again. I grabbed my bike shorts and ducked my way under two sets of bars to the changing tent. After returning I calmly put on the rest of my gear. Following that I got in line to walk my bike along the mats. Receiving encouragement from Team Bodien, I made my way to the timing mat. My time in T1 was slightly less than the 8 minutes I had expected.

There was a small hill to reach the main River Road. Despite hearing the advice, unfortunately I was rushed that morning and had my bike still in a large gear. I had several false starts and then struggled up to the big boys bike ride. The bike course consists of two big clockwise loops. The first five to ten miles east was to get to that loop. It was mainly flat and mostly devoid of vineyards, the big exception being the Korbel estate. Along this route I breathed deep and took nothing but water for the first hour. The sun was already ablaze but most of this portion was in the riverside shade. I returned to my big gear and kept it above 20mph until a very tricky quick right and left that was talked about before ad nauseam. Right there afterwards was one tough pitch for not yet being in the zone. It was only a matter of time before I hit the big loop, starting the odyssey north on Westside Road. There began the vineyards in earnest, and virtually nothing but for most of the biking day. At thirty minutes I began the ritual of one GU-gel to be repeated every half chased by water only. On the hour I would take my salt tablets, although I was still able to count and see I was going to be short.

The course is best described as rolling hills with two tougher climbs. Once on Dry Creek, but still heading north, it was a wider four lane road with more opportunities for the big gear hammering. In the car I had not appreciated how difficult the Canyon Road climb was. It was long, gradual, and exposed. At the top one hurled down under Highway 101 and headed south towards Geysersville. There after the aid-station was a one-time out-and-back portion needed to make the course exactly 112 miles. I counted at least five women in front of me. But why did that matter? It was then a long journey southeast down the Alexander Valley. Vineyards everywhere. Once on the Chalk Hill road the route turned south and the ubiquitous vine became more of a novelty. It was as if Chalk Hill started with a tester hill, which was rather tough. Another plunge and then more winding before the big event. I took it with a group of five to six bikers, and in stride. Much more pitched, still relatively exposed, I climbed well. The plunge down at the top wasn’t as prolonged, and there was another small climb and upward bend after the turn off before reaching the suburbs of Windsor. At the end of Shiloh Road I spotted Team Bodien in place to take a few photos. The final swing to the high school was prolonged but mostly flat. I reached the 56 mile point shortly before the school in three hours and three minutes. My PR for a Half was only ten minutes faster. This was great news, and I knew keeping the constant pace was going to be key.

By this point there was no respite from the hot sun. It was out in all its fury. I stopped at the special needs station and had my bag handed to me. Unlike the others passing through, I put my bike up under a small tree. I doused my head with some of the cold water provided and then tried to eat my PB&J. I didn’t get too far; my body had neared the point where solid food intake was no longer possible. I had eaten the first round of fig newtons. I also put some more sunblock on my shoulders before finishing my five minute break. It certainly felt good, as I started to really feel the life force in me wane on my approach to the high school.

From this point on my stomach wasn’t exactly feeling good, so I laid off the Gatorade for some time and began to feel upset about the prospect of taking another GU-gel. The course took me on Windsor-River, a winding no-so-easy portion. The last leg to complete the loop was a short pitch up Wohler Road and then over a rickety-looking one lane bridge that spanned the Russian River. There I was – ready to sweep up this course. And on I pushed, passing through the vineyards gladly taking in the hot sun. I wanted no such thing, but was going to deal with the cards played to me. I slowly began to psyche myself up for the Canyon Road climb. It was noticeably tougher this time – the exposure playing a huge part. Perhaps the longest miserable stretch was southeast down the Alexander Valley. My back was aching and I relished any opportunity to climb out of the saddle. I silently cheered after turning onto Chalk Road! My enthusiasm for Chalk Road was severely tested on the trainer hill though – the slog through the Alexander Valley was taking it tolls. I continued to talk myself up on climbing over Chalk Hill for one last time, this time at mile 100. And then it came. Quickly into my extreme climbing gear, I ever so slowly labored and swayed my way, just cresting with the last of my climbing legs. Power through the flats like Jan, climb gracefully like Alberto… I lay silent as the other side of the hill enveloped me, saving the strength I did not have for the final couple of hills. Somewhere around here I was passed by one guy who had obviously crashed earlier in the course. His entire left arm was covered with a nasty rash. I couldn’t help think of my Ironwoman hero Cheryl, who in 2005 was run off the road while we were doing the Duke Half Ironman. She had way worse road rash, yet powered through the rest of the course and finished the run! That’s guts and determination for you! I was tired but prepared to do whatever. It was going to take a couple of bouncers to grab me and pull me off this course! Once again Team Bodien was stationed on Shiloh. Once again in a big gear after climbing the Highway 101 overpass, I pushed myself hard through the small business center and past the golf course, around the cemetery corner, and up to the most welcomed site of Windsor High School. I dismounted at 6:31. With the five minute break, I lost twenty three minutes on the second half, which wasn’t all that bad. I had estimated anywhere from six to seven hours to complete the bike portion. Landing at the halfway was great, especially since I was above the 17mph average that I wanted to beat.

The prospect of running a marathon after all this would normally have been ridiculous. But here I was, either out the T2 shoot or give up. I racked Holman and thanked him for his great work, then ran over to change once again. Instead of running in my bike shorts, I opted to once again take my time and change into something I wear for a marathon. I wore my favorite Grand Columbian hat, retained the glasses, donned my Sharksbite singlet, and changed into my Duke socks before carefully lacing up my new Asics Evolution shoes. I stopped for a spray of the hose then picked up a couple of drinks. Once again I spent less than the allotted eight minutes. I had thought about not running for some time, but even on the stretch out to the road I began my slow march of a run.

As described above, the run consisted of three loops. At this point it was the hottest time of the day. The last few hours of the bike were not punishment enough, for the first loop I would suffer mightily under the full force of Sol. After leaving the high school, the route heads south on the fairly busy Windsor Road. From there its another jaunt down Reiman Lane, which is a new suburbia area where people look at you curiously wondering why on earth you’re running back and forth. There were aid stations every mile, which for the 4.37 mile jaunt out and back was great news. The first was at the corner with Starr Rd, which stair-steps its way down south. Favorites on my stomach were flat cola (Cheryl’s rocket fuel!), water, and Gatorade. One station did have peaches, which I tolerated early on but quickly that was out. Surprisingly I found green grapes to be quite palatable. Ah, how fitting. In vino veritas. My game plan was to walk through aid stations giving me the time to actually drink everything. All my other races are on the little less dilatory side. Starr features two major climbs going out. I won’t pretend I was a rock star and say I cruised up. I walked. That was the Galloway plan. After hitting Mark West Station Road is the major climb, pitching up hard and twisting to the right. No thank you. Mr. Lame-0, who happened to be in the company of also lame-o types. From there the stretch west to the turn-around was just blazing hot the first lap. It was here that fellow Charlottean John caught up and passed me. At each of the three times I turned around, I used the patented Bodien reverse spin perfected on many hikes as lad. Each time I dazzled the audience, especially the woman who was wearing the butterfly wings.

Reaching the first turnaround was key to reaching my goal. It was very not published, but my calculation put me at the very real possibility of breaking fourteen hours. By the time I started the run, it was about eight hours exactly. I am exceptionally poor at math when I’m running, and so by this time thinking straight was just plain tough. But these numbers were easy since there really six runs on this marathon. I could take an hour on each and make my goal. That was some good money in the bank! I made my goal by eight minutes, so this was great news! Just keep running on the flat to medium sections. Another savior of the aid station was getting sprayed down. All the other long distance triathlons I’ve done featured wet towels. That was nice, but I found out this was better!! Slowly I crawled my way back, so eager to receive my first wristband. At the completion of each lap, each competitor gets a wristband. After getting two, you are on the third and final lap. I can’t tell you how hard it was to get the first, but how great it felt!!! I passed through at 1:45, banking fifteen minutes on my goal, slightly over a 12 minute mile pace.

On the second lap it was slightly but noticeably cooler. It was only a matter of time. The slower I ran, the more I would be rewarded with temperature drops, but this could not be an end to itself. By this time I had past John, who was starting to talk of GI troubles. My stomach was definitely upset, but it was kept check at a tolerable level whereby minimizing the strong Gatorade Endurance I was not going to boil over. I started to feel much stronger on the second lap. I pushed myself further up to the toe of the hills before stopping. I had been talking with one woman who was asking me about how to best combat an upset stomach. Sometimes on these races I bond with someone on the bike, who is matched well to me. We constantly leap-frog each, exchange challenges, and push the pace. It really did not happen on this race. She was the only one I talked to extensively, but by the second lap she was walking exclusively and I was feeling (relatively) too well to wait up. I also saw the road rash guy, but he had been wrapped up. His pace looked strong! At the turn-around I noticed I was picking up even more time. Great news! Now I could finally feel the inevitable break in heat. I ran further into the high school to triumphantly pick up my second bracelet. When I was sprayed down that time it did soak my shoes, which did ire me some. I had passed through at 1:42, which is a drop to an 11:42 minute mile pace. I was starting to get more cheers from those lined up near the high school and my fellow runners. I still could not take the two biggest hills, but I made inroads into the others. The elation of the final turnaround was just awesome. I began to thank everyone at all the aid stations, and for the last time contemplated buying one of the mini-goats for sale. I never wanted to see them again! Ha! Coming into the final two miles I was now running relatively at a much faster rate, pausing only momentarily stopping for my ice one mile in. I push hard on Rieman and then even harder on Windsor. I could really feel the adrenaline and honestly felt like I had the endurance to go farther. So what’s after the marathon run?!? ;-)

The last stretch up Rieman, into the high school and down the stretch I put on a hell of a show. I was running a five minute mile sprint easily and caused a huge roar in the crowd. Yeah me! I rose up my arms and flashed Churchill’s Victory signs as I crossed the finishing promenade made out of wine barrels. The time put my last lap at 1:38, a further improvement to an 11:19 minute mile. So for a total marathon that was an 11:43 minute mile pace for five hours and seven minutes. That certainly sounds sad by itself, but I had to take that time with a big friggin’ grain of salt! But what mattered was the big fat time above me. Instead of barely breaking fourteen hours I was more close to just passing thirteen! My final time was 13:09:22.

So there you have my recounting of this great race! I highly recommend it to all the other “freaks” out there thinking about the making the big plunge.

We did hang around to wait for John’s finish. I was touched to see at one person stop to roll across the finish line a la John Blais. John Hoover came in about an hour later, struggling out a run at the last to also take his first Ironman. From there my brother and I drove back to the motel while my parents retired to their camping spot on the Russian River. It didn’t take me long to fall asleep, and go figure I was super sore the next morning. We all had breakfast, and then Andrew had to begin his trip back to Portland. The remaining Team Bodien eventually made our way out to Bodega Bay. Contrary to rumors heard on the blogs I was not attacked by any birds. The weather there, and also in Santa Rosa was 60 degrees and clouded in all day! How unfair is that?!? We continued south along Tomales Bay towards Point Reyes, and then out to Petaluma. There I caught a shuttle back to SFO.

Once there I met up with my marching band friend Teresa. She had just dropped her friends off after a weekend of wining and relaxing in the same area. We had a deal she would booze it up while I swam, biked, and ran. From there it was back to her apartment on Russian Hill. There I met her new husband, Frenchman Fabrice Talbot. How ironic it was their wedding that I missed in April to train for Vineman. It all worked out in the end!! Also visiting was Fabrice’s brother Jean-Francois. I hung out with them that night.

At lunch the next day I made my way over to the Presidio for lunch with my Duke friends Megan and Jon, who work for the Pacific Forest Trust. How cruel could those San Francisco hills be on my super sore body and blistered feet? Very. Still, it was a nice lunch. Once back I crashed big time. Too much effort, even if I took the bus most of the way! That evening Megan came to pick up me and my stuff. She took me back her apartment south of the Presidio, where we met up with her boyfriend and my long time friend Dan O who I lived with my first two years in Durham. We had some great pizza and downed a whole pitcher of Anchor. Once back we watched a movie and then I crashed for my final night out on the left coast.

That morning I arranged a shuttle back to SFO and caught my plane to Salt Lake. >From there I arrived back in Charlotte around midnight. Thankfully I was graced with exit row seats once again! Leaving the terminal was like stepping into an oven. Just this morning it was 60 degrees and foggy, and my friends were wearing down vests. And now into the fire! Well, it was this fire that trained me to complete my first Ironman distance race!

Anyone who knows me is aware I’ve battled through a lot to get to this point, and boy is it sweet. So I haven’t had all the control during this strangely wonderful journey, but I do have a lot of people to thank for getting me across the finish line. Obviously Team Bodien deserves a lion-share of the credit, taking time out of their lives to see and help me accomplish something so great. I also wanted to thank my original tri-friend, the one and only Alice! She was the one that saw me biking and running, she was the one that put the points together, and she was the one with that delicate touch to convince me to revisit the swimming pool. I remember my first 25-yard lap at Duke’s Brodie Gym pool. I hung on for dear life! Even at our first triathlon in Charlotte, feeling deathly afraid of 500 yards. Funny how four plus years later I go to that same pool multiple times a week to swim at least 1300 meters, thinking nothing of it. Thank you Alice.

So what’s up next? Well, considering it’s 100 plus degrees out now and I just finished an Ironman, I’m going to pass on Disneyland and head straight for the couch. But in September I’ll be on a 12 person team tackling the 208-mile Blue Ridge Relay. In October it’s up to DC for the Marine Corps Marathon, and then a working vacation in December at Kiawah Resort for a half marathon. Sounds like fun!

Scott

What Motivates You?

What Motivates You?

Where do you get your motivation to exercise? Are you a race junky, where you are registered for an event almost every weekend? Do you like to eat? Are you afraid of not fitting into your little summer outfits when the warm weather comes around?

My motivation is somewhat intangible. Pushing myself physically lightens my mood and keeps the day on an even keel. When I’m injured or otherwise can’t exercise, I get jittery and, I’ve been told, a little abrasive. After a good run the world seems cleaner, people seem nicer. There is a sense of well being and clarity.

So, what motivates you to get out an exercise? Just click on “Comments” at the bottom of this article.

Race Shirt Etiquette

I love this and have personally witnessed many etiquette stumbles when at races...

[Originally posted on Bad Ben's blog, http://badbenkc.blogspot.com]

Proper T-Shirt Etiquette

In the running and triathlete community the wearing of race T-Shirts has become a sign of accomplishment and fashion. Choosing just the right T-Shirt for that special occasion can be a daunting and difficult task. The following guidelines have been compiled (in fun), to help the responsible T-shirt wearer avoid potential embarrassment and/or elevate their perceived status in their athletic community.

This list was formed from using various tri and runners' submissions, and then acquired, edited, exfoliated, and added to by me. You can send any suggestions of yours to me. If they are semi-coherent and not too offensive, I might add them. But then again, I might not.

Note: This is meant to be a tongue-in-cheek review of the sometimes superstitious regard runners and triathletes have for their finisher shirts. My personal view: I don't care if you wear your shirts wrapped around your head in an ever-expanding turban...so please, no nasty-grams back to me on back-channel e-mail. Have fun.

T-Shirt Etiquette Guidelines:
1. A shirt cannot be worn unless the wearer has participated in the event. There is an exception, though: "significant others" and volunteers are exempt.

2. Any race tee, less than a marathon distance, shouldn’t be worn to an ultramarathon event. This goes double for the wearing of sprint-tri shirts to Ironman and Half-Ironman events. It simply doesn’t represent a high enough "cool factor " and sends a red flag regarding your rookiness. It's like taking a knife to a gunfight. It's probably best just to wear a generic name-brand athletic shirt, and go hide in a corner until race time.

3. When you are returning to a race in which you have previously finished, then wear the shirt from the first year you completed the race. Don’t short-change yourself by wearing the shirt from the year before. It doesn’t adequately display the feat of accomplishment or the consummate veteran status that you are due.

4. Never wear a race event shirt for the (same) race you are about to do. Only rookies do this. It displays a total lack of integrity and might put the bad-heebee-jeebee-mojo on you for the race. Wearing a T-shirt of the race, while currently running said race, is discouraged. It’s like being at work and constantly announcing "I’m at work". Besides, you wont have the correct post-race shirt then...unless you like to wear sweaty, pitted-out clothes on a regular basis. If you do, then go back to the swamp, Gomer.

5. Never wear a shirt from a run that you did not finish. To wear a race shirt is to say "I finished it". Exceptions: see guideline #1.

6. A DNF’er may wear a race shirt if... the letters DNF are boldly written on the shirt in question (using a fat Sharpie or a Marks-A-Lot).

7. During a race, the wearing of shirt from a previously completed year is acceptable. Wear the oldest T-shirt you have from that race (see guideline #3). This is probably a good practice because you now have no excuse to drop out since you’ve done it before.

8. If possible, runners should buy significant others T-shirts which can be worn without regard to running the race. (see guide #1). Keep in mind, they support your "running Jones" more than you think. They also have ways of punishing you that you can't even imagine. Or maybe you can.

9. Volunteers have full T-shirt rights and all privileges pertaining thereto. So there. Remember, you can always volunteer for a race and get a shirt. I encourage this as your civil duty to be a member of the running community. Races don't happen without volunteers, folks.

10. No souvenir shirts: therefore, friends or anyone else not associated with the race may not wear a race shirt. If your mom thinks that your Boston shirt is lovely, tell her to QUALIFY for Boston herself, & send in her application early for next year, so she can earn her own shirt. A downside to this: she still has plenty of time to write you out of her will between her training runs for the big race. Note that your mom CAN wear your finisher's shirt under one of these 4 conditions- 1) you still live with your mother; 2) she funded your trip to the race; 3) she recently bailed you out of the slammer; or 4) All of the above. There is an exception to this guideline: (refer to # 1...If you are a "non-traditional family," and your mom actually is your Significant Other).

11. Always wear the race shirt of your last race at the current race’s pre-race briefing. The more recent the race, the better. This is a good conversation starter. However, avoid the tendency to explain how that it was a training run for this, and this is just a training run for the next, etc. It just sounds like your rationalizing mediocre performances. Sometimes it’s best to live in the here and now.

12. Your t-shirt should be kept clean, but dried blood stains are okay, especially if it is a trail race or a particularly tough event. If you're an ultrarunner, you can even leave in mud and grass stains, (and porcupine quills). Not washing-out the skunk scent is pushing the macho thing a bit too far, though.

13. Never wear a T-shirt that vastly out-classes the event you're running. It’s like taking a gun to a knife fight. Or like unleashing an atomic bomb among aboriginal natives. You get the idea.

14. Also: never wear a blatantly prestigious T-shirt downtown or at the mall among non-running ilk. People will just think you have a big head, which you do. You'll also get stupid questions, like, "how long was that marathon?" If it's a shirt to a 50 or 100-miler, they'll think it's a shirt for a cycling event or just think you're totally nuts, which (of course), you probably are.

15. Never, ever, borrow a race finisher's shirt from another runner to wear to an event that you didn't run. If you do, remember that in Dante's Inferno, he wrote about a special Hell for characters such as you; right between Tax Collectors and Lawyers.

16. The Bad Ben Guideline: All children or grandchildren of mine can wear hand-me-down race finisher's shirts for races that I've run in. When they are asked, "did you run in that 100-mile trail race?" They can proudly respond, "no, but my daddy (or grandad) did." If your progeny has put-up with you being an ultrarunner, they have said rights too. If you have completed an Ironman, your kids also have the same rights. They've put up with a lot of crap (or outright neglect) over the years, and deserve to wear them.

17. The Bryner Guideline: Never wear a shirt that has more sponsors listed on it than people

that ran in the event. (Are you listening, race directors?) A shirt with too many sponsorship logos on it is just plain ugly. If you're a race director, and have scored that many sponsors, how about sharing the wealth? Just give me a call at 555-6565, and ask for "Bad Ben." By the way,

you can let ANYONE wear this ugly shirt; non-finishers and distant relatives, alike. If you respect your friends, kids, spouse or mother, though, you won't let any of them wear it. It would serve well as bedding in your kid's gerbil cage.

18. Never wear a shirt that has any sponsors on it that you don't agree with. For instance, if you're a Vegan, you shouldn't wear a shirt that proudly advertises "Omaha Steaks" on it. If you wear this shirt, the "Karma Gremlins" will catch-up with you . I swear that's why I fell and broke my nose in my last 50-mile trail run, or why I had plantar fascitis for most of '99. I never should have ran in the 1998 "Fantastic 4-Miler." Why would they enlist a sponsor from an North Korean land-mine manufacturer, anyway?

19. The Spencer Guideline: If an event is cancelled at the last minute, but the event shirts were already given out, you can't wear the shirt unless you actually ran the race on that day. This means you will have to run your own unsupported event, through snow storms, hurricanes, or whatever lame excuse the Race Organizers came up with for cancelling said event. If you still want to wear the shirt, you have to mark it with a sharpie, "I didn't run this lousy event, and I'm all the better for it, thank you," across the front of it.

20. This next one is a big one, and has something to do with the need for more good taste and asthetics in this sometimes ugly world. Never wear a shirt that is so old, thin, and threadbare that you can see the color of your nipples or chest hair through it. This seems to be just a "guy thing," especially and old-codger-runner-guy thing. Here's the test guys: if you're too scared to machine-wash your 1978 Tab Ten-Miler shirt for fear of it wafting down the drain as meer subatomic particles, then it's probably too transparent to wear in public. If you can (still) remember your great performance at that particular day and you want to save it for posterity, PLEASE have it framed so that you can keep it on the wall of your den or your "I love me" room, and (at least) out of public view. Better yet, have it sewn into a quilt. You can then sit on your couch and read back-copies of Runner's World, cuddled up with your "runner's binky," with a glass of warm milk.

21. By the way, if you don't know what terms like DNF, volunteer, or Significant Other are, then you shouldn't wear any race shirt until you know what they mean, and you shouldn’t have any meaningful relationships, either. You should probably become a hermit and/or New Age "Tantric" runner, sitting at home in the lotus position performing virtual marathons in your mind, while sniffing used GU packets, incense, and patchouli.

T-shirts must be used sensitively. Worn responsibly, they can help expand one's consciousness and immerse you in a great conversation with your running brethren. Worn stupidly, they can cause fright, horror, vacant stares, sprained ankles, and general social unrest. Don't be a "T-shirt Terrorist." Follow proper T-shirt etiquette to do your part for world peace.

Wilmington Duathlon

Saturday, January 19, 2008 – 11 am
Wilmington Short Course – Wilmington, NC

Try something new to kick off 2008. If you are interested, then register by the end of day on January 1st to save some money.

The Race

The 5k run course is an out and back along Sanders and North on River Road. The bike course is also an out and back, following River Road South and turning around at Snows Cut Park. The second run course will follow the first run segment of the out and back along Sanders Road and River Road. Water stations are provided at the 1.55 mile turn around point on the first run segment. The second water station will be located at the .75 mile turnaround for the final run segment. The finish line is in the Bellamy Elementary School parking lot near the transition area.

The race course revolves around a transition area in Heyward C. Bellamy Elementary School parking lot. The same transition area will be used for all phases. The transition area will open at 9 am; ALL bikes need to be placed in position before the transition area closes at 10:45am.

Charity

The race is hosted by Cape Fear Cyclists to raise money for the Fallen Police Officer’s Fund.

Distance

3.1 Mile Run / 12.2 Mile Bike / 1.5 Mile Run

Distances are approximate and subject to change

Race Amenities

• Wicking T-shirt
• Post Race food
• Winning Time Chip Timing

Registration

• Until January 1, 2008:
  Individual Participant: $35.00
  Relay Team: $65.00
• January 2 through January 16, 2008:
  Individual Participant: $50.00
  Relay Team: $75.00

There is a $10.00 fee for each non-USAT registrant.

Race Website: www.fsseries.com

Race Divisions

Athletes may register as a male or female aged:

• 13 & Under
• 14-15
• 16-19
• 20-24
• 25-29
• 30-34
• 35-39
• 40-44
• 45-49
• 50-54
• 55-59
• 60-64
• 65-69
• 70-74
• 75+

Special Divisions Include:

• Athena
• Clydesdale
• Relays - Athletes can register as a relay team for the duathlon. Teams are comprised of two members, each member does one event; the run or bike.

Packet Pick Up and Directions

January 18, 2008 from 5-7pm: Two Wheeler Dealer - 4408 Wrightsville Avenue - Wilmington, NC 28403

Race Day from 8-10am: Bellamy Elementary School - 70 Sanders Drive - Wilmington, NC 28412

Run Your First Marathon / The 7 Day Training Program

My interviewee for this this week's athlete profile is dragging his lazy feet in getting some of his answers to my questions back to me, so I've pulled an oldie but goody article out of the dusty cyber shelves.

Run Your First Marathon / The 7 Day Training Program

By Tim Long

November 2^nd: A Girl named Faith (really) calls the running store [where I was working part-time] to ask whether anyone would like a complimentary entry for the Richmond Marathon which included hotel and the coveted pasta dinner the night before the race. Since I took the call, I say, “Well, how does it work?” She says that she’ll fax over the entry form and someone simply has to fill it out and send it back. “Yeah,” I reply, “someone would probably want to do it.” So I drag the two pieces of paper (fax cover sheet and faxed entry form) around with me for a few days. On Friday, November 5^th, Faith’s boss, Michelle calls me to ask whether anyone was going to take advantage of the offer. Side note: I had been debating this in my mind for four days now, and came to the conclusion that it would be crazy to run my first marathon with absolutely no training or distance running. So I say, “Yeah, sure, I’d really like to do it.” Ten minutes later I have fax confirmation that my filled out entry form has reached her. Later that day I have confirmation numbers for my marathon entry, hotel room, and dinner. Then it hits me; I have to run a marathon in seven days. I start asking myself, “Will I die? What do people mean by ‘hitting the wall’? How much water do I need? Should I walk? Do I need one of those Fuel Belt thingys?” Then I remember standing and cheering the runners at mile 23 of the Boston Marathon watching thousands of runners go by, and seeing lots of men with bloody shirts from chafed nipples. Now I’m just plain scared.

Organization: Okay, it’s day one of my training. I’ll do a long run. I think to myself, “That’s what marathon training is hinged on, long runs.” Saturday, November 6^th, I do eleven miles. Okay, that’s not so bad. The long run is out of the way. Sunday I am going to rest but instead do a 35 mile bike ride in the morning, then a brisk 5 mile run at night. “Cross training, lots of marathon runners cross train. ” I say to myself. Monday is a rest day. Tuesday I go out for an easy 5 miles after work at “marathon pace”. At this point I should point out that my goal marathon pace (if I ever run one with the intent to do well) is 6:27/mile (2:49 marathon). Granted, I had no intention of trying to run a 2:49 race. With no training and not knowing what to expect I just wanted to finish so I could come home without being embarrassed. So, when I say “marathon pace” for this run it means 8 mins/mile. Wednesday the 10^th, I do another 5 miles. This time a little faster, maybe 6:45 pace. I call this the speed-work of my training program. Thursday I go out and do 2 miles before the Thomas Street Tavern Run, then hang out and watch other folks run. The running portion of my training is done, and now I start the tapering portion of my marathon training program. I rest on Friday mostly because I’m driving 300 miles to Richmond, VA.

It was pouring rain the ENTIRE 5 hours to Richmond. When I get there at 4PM, I’m exhausted. After checking into the hotel and finding a map to the start line (the hotel is a long 4.5 miles from the start line of the marathon), I drive down to the expo to pick up my packet, take in some of the marathon energy, and have my pasta dinner with a special guest speaker from Runner’s World, Bart Yasso, who shares a slide show accompanied by entertaining commentary on many of the more memorable races and runs he’s covered, including the Bad Water 146 Mile Race, Antarctica Marathon, Kilimanjaro Marathon, and some other interesting places and runs he’s both run and written about. The dinner was first-rate and the speaker matched it with wit and inspiration. I was nervous about the next day and let the other people at my dinner table know my trepidations. They offer encouraging words, but I can see in their expressions that they feel I might be either drunk or crazy or both, and that I’ll be lying under a water stop at the curb around mile 14 the next day. I drive back to the hotel and fall asleep watching the Weather Channel, hoping it would stop raining before the race start so my new shoes wouldn’t get wet.

Race morning: The alarm wakes me at 4:55AM, and I realize that I’ll be starting my first marathon in three hours. At that moment I wonder whether anyone would believe that I slept through my alarm and couldn’t make the start. Then a bit of confidence pushes its way in and forces me into the shower. With the image of the bloody nipples I saw in Boston, I had taken the liberty of packing two band-aids for the trip. After applying them I lather myself up in Body Glide. At least if I die, I won’t be chafed. I’m out the door at 6AM.

Being this early, I find a decent and free parking spot two blocks from the start line (though unknown at the time, much further from the finish line which will be a factor later). Knowing there will be Cliff Shot energy gels starting at mile 14, I take three gels in a zip lock bag to cover the first 14 miles. The weather had changed and had stopped raining, but was now 40 degrees with a 20mph wind that took your breath away. I chose to wear running shorts, a long sleeved shirt with my Sharksbite singlet over it, along with some gloves. At this point I realize I don’t have safety pins to secure my bib number. “No problem” I think. Being a race director, organizer, timer, and participant of many races I’m sure to have four safety pins in my car somewhere. After 10 minutes I can’t even find one, so I give up and head to the start area with my bib number in one hand and my little zip lock bag of gels in the other. The wind is whipping through the hilly streets of Richmond with newspapers and other debris flying around. I get to the general start area and realize there is no place to stay warm or to get away from the wind, so I head over to the line of 80 porta-potties and climb into the first one. Since it’s so early no one has used it yet, so the smell isn’t bad. I think to myself how smart I am to be in there keeping warm away from the wind. After about 10 minutes or so, I hear more and more voices outside, and peek my head out to see a line of people waiting to use MY porta-pottie. Once I slink out of that situation, I simply go back to the car two blocks away and wait for the start. Oh, and I finally find someone who gives me four safety pins three minutes before the race begins. I find a group holding a big sign that says “pace group 3:30”. I assume it’s either a bible passage or an anticipated finish time. I figure an 8 minute pace is ambitious, but possibly doable, so I slip in behind them. The race starts and I am taking it very easy, almost scared to have my feet touch the ground because I have counted the steps it will take to finish 26.2 miles.

The first six miles go by easily enough. I’m very observant of my surroundings, the spectators, the runners around me, the stuff left on the street. I start wondering whether the rest of the 20 miles are this easy. Then I notice that I’m trotting along at just over an 8:00/mile pace. “Should I pick it up?” I wonder. “What would my finish time be if I ran the rest of the way at 7:30, 7:00, or 6:30 pace?” I decide to bump it up to a 7:30 pace. At mile 10 I pull up alongside Jody, a guy from Eastern N.C. who is an IRONMAN triathlete. He says he’s shooting for a 3:20-3:30 finish time. We run and chat together for three miles. At the half way point (13.1 miles) I’m at 1hour: 38mins. I have to pee, so I lose a couple minutes but feel better. Now I decide to pick up my pace. By mile 16 I’m getting hints of cramps in my legs and doubts start creeping into my mind. My thoughts have gone from noticing the mundane of immediate surroundings to the intangible. I start thinking about my dad, past girlfriends, tough situations I’ve been in before. Now I’m on this long bridge between mile 16 and 17. The wind was bitter and whipping straight into my face. I come up to a smallish woman who’s making fast steady progress. I’m tempted to sit behind her and let her break the head wind for me, but instead I come up around and in front of her. “Should we share the lead to cut the wind for each other?” She kindly asks. “Naw, I’m feeling strong,” I lie. “Just stay behind me.” Surprisingly, helping her get over that mile-long bridge made me ‘feel’ strong. Funny how the mind works. Now there’s less than ten miles to go, but I’m hurting. The bones in my feet feel like someone’s smashing them with a hammer. The muscles in my legs are getting tighter with each step. I decide to stop at mile 18 to stretch and rub my legs, more lost time.

Now with seven miles to go I know I’ll finish, no matter what happens. I’m determined. The questions now were how much faster can I go, and how much damage will I do to my body. I figure I’ll run the last 10k (6.2 miles) in 40 minutes to make up for the stops I’d made. Mile 20 I have to stop again. This time I really stretch out my legs. When I start back up I pick a guy in a red shirt who’s probably a quarter mile down the road (this is a 2 mile straight stretch of road). I’m catching that guy no matter what. My feet ache, so I run faster and faster until I stop thinking about my feet. At mile 25 I pass the red shirt guy and pick it up to a 6:30 pace. Much of the last mile is downhill with lots of spectators. I run the last half-mile at a sub 6:00 min pace and cross the finish line thinking I wouldn’t be able to stop. But I did, and bent over to take my timing chip off. At that point this lady swings this finisher’s medal into my face bouncing it off my forehead, and then hangs it around my neck.

I wander away from the finish and lie down on the sidewalk. I did it. My dad would be proud. He loved hearing and reading about my bike racing and I’m sure he would have made the trip to see me finish my first marathon if he were still alive. I decide that my efforts were for him.

Being at the race by myself, there’s no reason to hang out so I get up off the sidewalk. My legs and feet are hurting, badly. Now I realize that the finish is six blocks from where I parked the car. It takes me twenty minutes to hobble back to it. After I take a shower and have some lunch, I drive the five hours back to Charlotte. Oh, my finish time was 3:13 – decent enough to qualify for the Boston Marathon.

Some final thoughts: DO NOT try running your first marathon with no training. I did it because I like a challenge and doing spontaneous things. I doubt I’ll be selling my 7 Day Marathon Training Program. My body paid the price the next morning. You will enjoy the experience and perform much better if you train and prepare properly for your race. I’ll probably run Boston, but I’m sure I’ll wait until the week before to sign up for it.

[Follow up: I actually trained for Boston the following spring, but got injured a couple weeks before race day. Since I already paid my entry and had a plane ticket, I went to the race and watched (and drank beer) with some of my beantown friends from mile 20. I still haven't run another marathon. I've instead pushed prudence to the side of the road and jumped directly into ultra races... Those stories will surely be used as fillers for other Fridays when I don't have material ready on other athletes.]