The London Route

The route for the 2012 Olympic marathon in London received a test run this past weekend.

The Europe circuit

When people find out I'm a professional runner they are always curious about what kind of races I do. They are usually surprised to find out that there are a series of national championship races in the United States ranging from the mile to the marathon for road racing, as well as an indoor and outdoor track circuit. Most elite runners plan there year with the Outdoor Track and Field Championships in mind and then make a mass exodus to Europe the beginning of July.

Hopping a plane and heading to Europe for the summer track circuit is usually the highlight of the year and the reward for all the hard work put in earlier. It’s the fun part, where you get to travel, race against some of the best in the world, in some of the most spectacular venues in the world. Where as in the U.S., track meets struggle to fill stadiums, European meets seem to pack them in, and there is an energy that it hard to recreate in the U.S. As an athlete you feel like a rock star.

On cheering sections and graduations

Recently I attended the CSU Monterey Bay graduation ceremony.

My coach, Bob Sevene, the former cross country coach at CSUMB, and I were asked to come by some of his former athletes.

We were honored to share in their special day.

I was armed with food, water, sunblock and even a blanket. Let’s face it, graduations are long and coastal weather is unpredictable. Luckily, the day was beautiful, which probably added to the day’s enjoyment and excitement.

As we piled into the stadium, you could hear the occasional cheers from the soon-to-be graduates who were congregating on a nearby soccer field before the start of the ceremony.

As each graduate stepped up on stage to receive their diplomas, cheers erupted from family and friends.

Knowing what some of my coach’s athletes went through to reach this point, I wasn’t surprised there was so much enthusiasm. One of his former athletes, Fabian Rangel, was the first in his family to graduate from college. He worked at a gas station fulltime, ran on the cross country team, commuted back and forth from King City and still managed to graduate with distinction with a degree in global studies. He’s going on to graduate school in San Francisco.

I have a sneaking suspicion Rangel would have succeeded with or without his cheering section, but it definitely makes the tough times a little easier and the good times more fun knowing you have people rooting for you.

Hearing the cheers for each graduate made me realize how important it is to have a cheering section and people to help you along the way.

CSUMB President Dianne Harrison concluded some of her remarks by asking the graduates to turn and thank their families who had played an integral role in making this milestone possible.

Being an athlete for most of my life, I have been lucky enough to always have a big cheering section and support team. It was my parents who first encouraged my competitive running after I graduated from the University of North Carolina.

They even offered to support me for a year so I could give running 100 percent of my efforts. But I was stubborn when I was younger and insisted on going to graduate school.

I’m comforted to know my parents and family will always be there to lend their support, as they always have. These days I enjoy cheering on Quin as he makes his way through life. Recently, I’ve been his biggest cheerleader as he stands in our front yard, trying to hit a baseball (he’s refusing to use the T-ball stand). I know that sooner than I am ready, I will be cheering for Quin at his own graduation.

Graduation time

It's cap-and-gown season all over the country right now. Although it's been a while since she's worn the ceremonial garb, in this week's column Blake shares some thoughts about the importance of having people cheering you on as you face a challenge — such as completing college. She and Coach Sev attended the Cal State Monterey Bay graduation to cheer on some of the athletes Sev worked with there when he was the the cross country coach. Blake also looks forward to, and partially dreads, the day Quin will be accepting his diploma.
Subscribers (both print and electronic) can read her column Saturday in the Herald. It will appear on the blog Sunday.

A notable grad

One of the Cal State Monterey Bay graduates we cheered loudest for this past weekend was Fabian Rangel. He was the first in his family to graduate from college. He worked a full-time job at a gas station, ran on the cross-country team, commuted back and forth from King City almost everyday, and still managed to graduate with a degree in Global Studies with Distinction. He’s going on to graduate school in San Francisco.

It runs in the family

I mentioned in my last post how Quin refuses to use the tee when hitting a baseball. I guess being stubborn runs in the family. Although my parents offered to support me for a year after graduating to pursue my running career, I turned them down to attend graduate school. Yeah, I was stubborn in my younger years.
Being an athlete for most of my life, I have been lucky enough to always have a big cheering section and support team behind me.

Graduating thoughts

Saturday I attended the graduation ceremony at Cal State Monterey Bay. My coach and I were asked to come by some of his former athletes. We were honored to be invited to share in their special day. Hearing the cheers in the stadium made me realize how important it is to have a cheering section and people to help you along the way.
I'm looking forward to cheering on Quin as he makes his way through life. Right now that means encouraging him to keep trying to hit the baseball as he takes his cuts while standing in the front yard. So far he's refused to tee it up on the stand we have for kids his age.
Funny, I know sooner than I am ready, I will be yelling for him at his own graduation.

Moving on after running disappointment

A few weeks ago, Coach Steve Watkins at the Pacific Grove High School invited me to talk to the track team. I always enjoy talking to the athletes and answering questions, but man, am I feeling old. My theme is simple, make a goal and be willing to work hard toward it. Ultimately, I advocate being stubborn since things do not always go according to plan. After all, it took me a long time to make the Olympic team.

I can’t pretend that this season’s disappointment isn’t getting old. After not make the starting line for the New York City Marathon in November, and this recent crash and burn at the Boston Marathon, I am ready for some highs rather than lows. I took about five days off from running after Boston because I was incredibly sore, but mostly because I needed a mental break. I did not want to think about running at all. Luckily, I had planned to go visit my grandmother and family in North Carolina with Quin, so it was the distraction I needed.

Though I felt mentally rejuvenated and ready to redeem myself going into Boston, when I started running, I just felt terrible. I had a blood test when I returned and the doctor told me I was a bit anemic. It probably contributed to my poor performance in Boston. It helps to have some reason for feeling bad, but as an athlete, you have to be ready on race day - period. The Olympic team waits for nobody.

Magdalena Boulet, my friend and fellow Olympic Marathoner from 2008, commiserated on the phone with me recently. She had trained equally hard for the London Marathon and was in great shape finishing just steps in front of me at the World Cross Country Championships. Unfortunately, she faded from her goal of finishing in 2 hours and 25 minutes, to finishing in just over 2:30. She said as she was struggling to make it to the finish line, she was contemplating retirement. I felt the same way as I was running in Boston, wondering if all this time, effort and time away from Quin was worth it in the end.

That’s the thing about having a goal. It comes back to bite you time and time again.

During the 2008 Olympic Trials race, a question haunted me: “Can you live with yourself, (if you are fourth again?).” I didn’t have to answer that question. I finished third, making the team and making up for the disappointment of finishing fourth in 2004 after leading much of the race.

Weeks ago, I was haunted by a similar question: “Can you live with yourself if you give up competitive running now?” The answer is absolutely not! I know I have only one or two years left of competitive running, and I plan on making ending my career on a high note and enjoying every step of the way.

Question answered

During the 2008 Olympic Trials race, a question haunted me: “Can you live with yourself, (if you are fourth again?).” I didn’t have to answer that question. I finished third, making the team and making up for the disappointment of finishing fourth in 2004 after leading much of the race.

Weeks ago, I was haunted by a similar question: “Can you live with yourself if you give up competitive running now?” The answer is absolutely not! I know I have only one or two years left of competitive running, and I plan on making ending my career on a high note and enjoying every step of the way.

No excuses

Though I felt mentally rejuvenated and ready to redeem myself going into Boston, when I started running, I just felt terrible. I had a blood test when I returned and the doctor told me I was a bit anemic. It probably contributed to my poor performance in Boston. It helps to have some reason for feeling bad, but as an athlete, you have to be ready on race day - period. The Olympic team waits for nobody.

Soul searching

After the Boston Marathon disaster I had to do some soul searching about my future as an elite runner.
Magdalena Boulet, my friend and fellow Olympic Marathoner from 2008, commiserated on the phone with me recently. She had trained equally hard for the London Marathon and was in great shape finishing just steps in front of me at the World Cross Country Championships. Unfortunately, she faded from her goal of finishing in 2 hours and 25 minutes, to finishing in just over 2:30. She said as she was struggling to make it to the finish line, she was contemplating retirement. I felt the same way as I was running in Boston, wondering if all this time, effort and time away from Quin was worth it in the end.

That’s the thing about having a goal. It comes back to bite you time and time again.
More on this in Saturday's column.

iPod controversy

Purists look down on running with an iPod, and Blake prefers to listen to the sounds of nature when on the go. But many recreational runners love their tunes and when officials tried to ban them in marathons a few years ago it created quite a backlash. Now most races allow iPods for recreational runners, but not elite runners. Here's a story about what happened when a recreational runner wearing an iPod had a great race and finished among the elite, and then was disqualified. I like this quote from race director: “She had no anticipation of finishing even in the top 10 .... Unfortunately, she had a great day.”

Fun in Europe

Coach Sev is a veteran of the European summer track circuit and has quite a storehouse of 'wild west' type stories from there, many which I'm sure have been embellished for entertainment purposes. Some of my favorites include the financial adventures of a certain world record holder. Apparently there was time when meet directors would pay the prize money or appearance fees in cash under the table. So this world record holder had a habit of carrying his cash in a paper bag. No surprise, he once lost $30k when someone lifted the paper bag. That same runner, or so Sev tells it, once deposited $50K in a Paris bank and then couldn't remember where he had opened the account. Great runner, not so great thinker.

Sad and strange

Death of Sammy Wainjuru, the Kenyan marathoner, is sad and mysterious

Loving my bed

I admit it, I’m a homebody.

In kindergarten our teacher asked all the kids to say what we were thankful for at Thanksgiving and sent that list home to all the parents.

Most kids named things such as: God, Mommy and Daddy, little sister and brothers. For me, it was “trees and my bed.” Though my mother likes to tease me about that, she always comes home from a trip and tells me she’s thankful for her bed. Though I was only 5, I guess I was no dummy.

There are two types of elite runners — those like me who like to live and train in the same place year-round, and those who are more like nomads. I have many runner-friends who never stay in one place more than a few months. The most popular running cities for elite runners are probably Flagstaff, Ariz. and Boulder, Colo. As altitude training started getting more popular, runners started living full-time in the higher elevations or going for month-long stints to reap the benefits of altitude training. Some runners can afford to rent an apartment, other crash on a friend’s couch. It’s a laid back lifestyle where you learn to go with the flow and live out a suitcase.

My coach and I used to kick around the idea of going to Tahoe or Flagstaff, Ariz. for some altitude training, but it has just never been feasible with work, marriage and now an active 2-year old. It does work for a lot of athletes, though. Many enjoy the time away from distractions. It’s also when you can completely focus on running and be around other runners with similar focus. American distance runner Ryan Hall, who was third in this year’s Boston Marathon, seems to be a great nomad. He and his wife Sara, also an elite runner, train part of the year in Flagstaff and do several months of sea-level training in Palo Alto near Stanford where they both attended college.

From the time I arrived here, I’ve loved running in the Monterey Bay area. But sometimes I feel like training here can be a disadvantage because we almost always have perfect 50-60 degree running weather. Being a runner you do have to consider what the weather will be like at your main competition. I went to the Beijing Olympics with enough time to acclimate to the heat and humidity, but for the most part, I get more out of training in a familiar environment, having my family and coach close, and staying in a good routine.

Luckily for me, the Olympic marathon trials will be in Houston in late January.

Barring a freak heat wave or snow storm, the temperatures during the race should be between 45 and 60 degrees, which is great for a marathon. Monterey will be the perfect place to train for the race. And that’s good, because at the end of the day, I love my bed.

My training home

From the time I arrived here, I've loved running in the Monterey Bay area. But sometimes I feel like training here can be a disadvantage because we almost always have perfect 50-60 degree running weather. Being a runner you do have to consider what the weather will be like at your main competition. I went to the Beijing Olympics with enough time to acclimate to the heat and humidity, but for the most part, I get more out of training in a familiar environment, having my family and coach close, and staying in a good routine.
Luckily for me, the Olympic marathon trials will be in Houston in late January. Barring a freak heat wave or snow storm, the temperatures during the race should be between 45 and 60 degrees, which is great for a marathon. Monterey will be the perfect place to train for the race.

Pain in the brain

Interesting article we did a few years ago on marathon running and pain - editor dave

By DENNIS TAYLOR
Monterey County Herald

Conventional theory professes that it takes a lot of heart to finish a marathon. That's physiologically accurate, no doubt. But when the pain hits — as it almost always does — the more important organ might be the brain.

The human body isn't really built to run 26 miles, 385 yards, in a single day, a fact that first became evident 490 years before the birth of Christ, when a Greek runner named Phidippides was assigned to gallop from Sparta to Athens with important news. (For younger readers, this was before cell phones, if you can imagine such a world.)

The good news: Phidippides made it. The bad news: He keeled over and died after delivering his message.

"The body can only store enough glycogen (the form of glucose found in the liver and muscles) to last 20 miles," explains Mike Dove, director of training for the annual Big Sur International Marathon Clinics. "So it probably would have been nice for all of us if Phidippides had died at the 20-mile mark, instead of running all 26."

Oh, well. That, presumably, is why God created Gatorade, Goo, PowerGel and Rosie Ruiz, who, in 1980, rode a subway almost all the way to the finish line of the Boston Marathon, collapsed almost sweat-free into somebody's arms, and got her picture taken on the winners' stand with Bill Rodgers, the men's champion.

Dove, who has run 25 marathons himself, has spent part of the last six years teaching people how to complete the grueling run, including how how to deal with the inevitable discomfort that can be expected when the body rebels against the physical ordeal.

Physiologically, some people seem to be better equipped than others.

"Not everyone is born to be Lance Armstrong, or Muhammad Ali, or anybody else who seemingly has a high threshold for pain," says Dr. Chris Carver , a neurological surgeon with offices in Monterey and Salinas. "In terms of ignoring pain, some of it is a learned skill, some of it is chemical. Certain people have more potential in that area than others. It's a question that's always been a bugaboo in neurological science: How much (of pain control) is chemical, and how much is structural?"

The common denominator is that all endurance athletes rely heavily on mental skills. At some point, almost every marathon runner must deal with a level of physical discomfort that seems unbearable.

"When I work with marathoners, basically what we do is rehearse in advance and prepare for the inevitability that the pain or discomfort will come," says Curt Erickson, a Monterey Peninsula sports psychologist who also works with the U.S. Olympic Synchronized Swimming Team. "That builds confidence and helps the body relax when it hits that physiological wall."

"The wall," for a marathoner, can be very real or somewhat imagined. At its most-intense level, it can be utterly debilitating.

"If you truly hit the wall, you're pretty well gone — you're not going to finish," Dove says. "You physically run out of energy, your glycogen is completely gone, and you can't go on. Most of the time, when runners talk about 'hitting the wall,' they're not actually hitting it. But they are exhausted, they're hurting, and they're mentally down. Everybody goes through that."

That's when the mental skills take over.

"When I get to mile 21 or 22, that's when I want to start crying," says 49-year-old Maria Keilman, who ran her first marathon at last year's Big Sur International and finished in 5 hours, 5 seconds. "And that's when you really have to have a talk with yourself, mentally, stay very positive, and keep putting one foot in front of the other."

Keilman hums marches to herself ("Stars & Stripes" and "Bridge Over The River Kwai" are her favorites). She counts her strides (for her, 600 make a mile). She imagines friends and family members pulling her forward with magnets.

"Running, for me, is mental therapy," says Bill Hatch, a 46-year-old Navy Commander who not only runs marathons, but ultra-marathons (50 miles and farther). "I'll go over my day, my life, where I'm at with my family.

"I'm also constantly checking my body, trying to figure out what's going on, and why I'm feeling the way I'm feeling," he says.

All are the aforementioned tactics among three methods taught by Erickson, Dove, and others, including JoAnn Dahlkoetter, a sports psychologist who helps train Big Sur marathoners every year.

Hatch's tendency to focus on the discomfort and try to analyze it is called internalizing. Erickson says athletes often benefit by expecting the pain and regarding it as a welcome challenge when it finally arrives.

"One idea is to cooperate with the pain — 'Oh, it's you ... I've been expecting you' — and actually focus on it," Erickson says. The concept, he says, entails accepting the fact that the pain will be around for a while, then will go away. "Some people will actually give the pain a physical form — a big, black, snake, for example — and imagine themselves wrestling the snake, knowing it ultimately will not have power over them."

Thinking about friends, family or life issues, looking at the scenery, conversing with other runners, and dreaming about the finish line, are forms of externalizing, the second method.

Singing songs is one example of the third method, phasing out.

"We teach people that whenever they start feeling negative in any one of those zones, they need to immediately switch to another zone," Dove says. "If you're thinking about your body, and your thoughts are dominated by, 'Oh, God, my leg really hurts,' then you need to immediately start thinking about the meal you're going to have at the end of the race, or about catching up to the person in front of you. Try one of the other zones."

The crucial skill is to stay positive, and find ways to turn any negative into a positive. Two challenges that specifically taxes Big Sur International competitors are the strong wind — which always seems to be in the runner's face — and the seemingly endless array of hills.

Welcome the wind as an easier way to get oxygen, Dove says, or imagine that it is circling around and pushing from behind. And remember that every uphill has a downhill, and that the finish line at Big Sur is at a lower elevation than the starting line.

If the discomfort persists — and, most likely, it will — he offers these philosophies:

* It's supposed to feel this way — you're running 26 miles.

* Every other runner is suffering, too. If they can make it, you can, too.

* The more discomfort you endure, the more gratification will be waiting at the finish line.

"There is a point in every marathon where absolutely everybody, no matter how fast or how slow, says 'What the hell am I doing here,'" Dove says. "Of the 25 marathons that I've run, there were only two or three where I felt so good that I actually had energy left at the finish line. There were two or three where I was in absolute agony at the end. The other 18 ... I was just very uncomfortable for the last four or five miles. I just mentally found a way to work through it."

BSIM: The whole story

After giving birth to her son Quin in 2009, Olympic marathon runner Blake Russell is back training in Pacific Grove, hoping to qualify for the 2012 London Olympics. Last week she took a break to cheer on her husband Jon in the Big Sur International Marathon. Jon, who was a pretty darn good college runner, writes about his experience.


There is a Saturday Night Live skit where Bill Murray, playing an out-of-shape Hercules, laments, “I’ve learned when unused, muscle turns to fat.” That scene played over and over in my head as the miles slowly ticked by during last week’s Big Sur International Marathon.

Blake and I exchanged our usual roles as I was the one racing and she was waiting at the finish line. The only real difference is Blake dedicates 30-40 hours a week to her training where as I dedicated — let’s just say less than that. I set out with the best of intentions. When my former college teammate called last fall to tell me he got shut out of Boston, I suggested he run Big Sur. He agreed on one condition — that I run it with him. Since it had been more than eight years since my last race, I figured it was a good excuse to get back in shape and agreed.

Fast forward six months — I had a new job, a very active 2-year-old son, and very little training. I knew I was no where near ready to run a marathon, but I had committed so I figured what the heck. I had no illusions.

This was going to hurt. I had put in a few weekend runs here and there, but nothing that could be considered real training.

My college teammate had prepared diligently and was well-prepared.

When we compared training plans, we quickly revised our plan to run together. We agreed to run together for the first half of the race at 3-hour, 30-minute pace. Once we passed the halfway point, he would speed up and I would — cough — maintain pace.

The first half went off without a hitch. We settled behind the 3:30 pace setter who did an amazing job. At about eight miles, I began to feel my lack of training, but I toughed it out until the turnaround.

We exchanged a quick fist bump and my former teammate took off. He finished in 3:13. I struggled through 18 miles before my body said enough was enough. My leg cramped and I could no longer run. I walked the rest of the way finishing in 4:35:15 . That was equally painful to my body and my ego.

That is not to say I had a bad time. In fact, I will actually have some fond memories. The weather was perfect, as was the race organization.

I took some time to appreciate the lighter side of the sport. There was the man who thought it would be a good idea to run in the wrong direction to retrieve a dropped Gu packet just after the start, despite the fact he had eight other packets strapped to his waist and there were 5,000 people charging at him (I guess he didn’t realize they give those packets out free along the course.) There was the man in the Elvis T-shirt heckling runners as they went by.

There was the volunteer begging anyone to take him up on his offer of free Vaseline.

I recaptured some of those feelings from the glory days, running with an old friend some 15 years after we last donned the same uniform in college. I realized how close the running community is in Monterey as every single runner I knew stopped to make sure I was OK as they passed me in the last few miles.

And when I finally did finish and Quin excitedly greeted me by exclaiming “Dada finish the race,” I was a lot more than OK.

wrong turn in the OC

Argh, hate the wrong turn at the marathon tales

Dada finish race

Not a whole lot of training, a leg cramp that forced him to walk the final miles, all-in-all, Blake's husband Jon had a great time at the Big Sur Marathon. ... No, really:
I took some time to appreciate the lighter side of the sport. There was the man who thought it would be a good idea to run in the wrong direction to retrieve a dropped Gu packet just after the start, despite the fact he had eight other packets strapped to his waist and there were 5,000 people charging at him (I guess he didn't realize they give those packets out free along the course.) There was the man in the Elvis T-shirt heckling runners as they went by. There was the volunteer begging anyone to take him up on his offer of free Vaseline.
I recaptured some of those feelings from the glory days, running with an old friend some 15 years after we last donned the same uniform in college. I realized how close the running community is in Monterey as every single runner I knew stopped to make sure I was OK as they passed me in the last few miles.
And when I finally did finish and Quin excitedly greeted me by exclaiming “Dada finish the race,” I was a lot more than OK.

Jon's big adventure

A few years back, Blake's husband Jon was one of the nation's elite college runners. since then he's had a difficult time setting aside time to run, but nevertheless tackled the Big Sur Marathon:
I set out with the best of intentions. When my old college teammate called in the fall to tell me he got shut out of Boston, I suggested he run Big Sur instead. He agreed on one condition - that I run it with him. Since it had been over eight years since my last competitive race, I figured it was a good excuse to get back in shape and agreed.

Fast forward six months - I had a new job, a very active two year old son, and very little training under my belt. I knew I was no where near ready to run a marathon, but I had committed so I figured what the heck. I had no illusions. This was going to hurt.
And it did. At about eight miles, I began to feel my lack of training. I struggled through 18 before my body said enough. My leg cramped up to the point that I could no longer run. I walked the rest of the way finishing with four and a half hour time that was equally painful to my body and my ego.
That is not to say I had a bad time. In fact, I will actually look back on the race quite fondly.

Blast from his past

This week Blake's husband Jon Russell, who was once an elite runner himself, writes about taking on the Big Sur Marathon:

There is an old Saturday Night Live skit where Bill Murray playing an out-of-shape Hercules laments, “I’ve learned when unused, muscle turns to fat.” That scene played over and over in my head as the miles slowly ticked by during last week’s Big Sur Marathon.

Blake and I got to change roles last week as I was the one racing and she was waiting at the finish line. The only real difference is Blake dedicates 30-40 hours a week to her training where as I dedicated - lets just say less than that.

Big Sur Marathon

Jon cramped at 18 but finished. We were able to catch him at the finish line and Quin said, "Dadda finished the race!" Quin is still wearing Jon's medal hours later.