Markemmanuel

I look forward to watching or hearing updates of the Boston Marathon each year. The Boston Marathon celebrates the human spirit. It celebrates persistence, commitments to a goal, and achievement. It’s a reflection of sacrifice, love, fellowship, and dedication.

I watched the marathon on my computer until I had to leave for my economics class.  I checked in time to time on twitter to see what the results where.  A couple of hours later, I read a few tweets that an explosion happened.  I assumed it was an accident until more reports came in.  Right after class, I headed to my car to listen to WBBM. Disgust, anger and sadness filled me. I arrived home from Northern and turned on the news.  I finally saw what unfolded while I was in class.

Allison Rosati interviewed their sports anchor Mike Adamle about the experience of the marathon and what it means to us runners.  You can see the distraught in his face and his fight to keep certain emotions in.  I couldn’t fight the tears back.  I cried.

My thoughts were about the families and friends to see their loved runs achieving a dream.  Thoughts focused on the runners who had loved ones injured or died. I thought about my mom, brother, friends, and other family that cheered and supported me at my marathons.  It makes me sick to my stomach to see what happened to the spectators who loved and supported us runners.

In the darkness that fell on Boston, many lights shined that day. I hope we won’t forget that.  Photos and videos showed fellow spectators and runners helping those in need.  The first responders (police and EMS) sprang into action to protect everyone. We read of runners who was unable to continue their run to the marathon running to find a place to give blood. The light will blind the darkness. Love will always conquer hatred.

My fellow runner, Jennifer W. wrote, “I have two choices. Watch the news coverage or lace up my shoes and go on a run in honor of all of those in Boston. I’m choosing the latter.” I ran a few rainy miles with my brother. My thoughts, prayers, and heart are with everyone that was involved in Boston that day.   The Chicago Running community is taking action by organizing a 5k. Runners are uniting tomorrow by either wearing their race shirts or wearing the Boston Marathon colors of blue and yellow.

I am a runner. My heart is in Boston. My prayers are for those who support us and run besides us.

More Love and Prayers:

• Boston Marathon Love – Sara Runs
• Boston and the Bond of Runners – A Foodie Stays Fit

Today I trained to train.  CARA’s 2013 Summer Marathon Training Program begins June 15th and I volunteered to be a group leader.  Pledging for my school’s professional business fraternity, taking 17 credit hours of academic work, commuting, and work took a took away time from my health and athletic pursuits.  I need to get back in shape to lead marathoners through a summer of training and successfully cross the finish line of their chosen race.

I accomplished the most important step.  I took the first step and did something to train.   When you’re out of habit, it is the hardest thing to do.  I did it and so can you.  The first step doesn’t have to be epic.  It has to be something.

What was my first step?  I walked for one hour this morning.  It’s a small step but a piece of a larger puzzle.

What’s your first step in your endeavors?

It looks like this year is becoming the “Year of the Bike.” My butt will be in the saddle for much of the spring and summer.  I’ve got rides upon rides scheduled or wanting to get scheduled.

I’m seriously considering doing the Grand Illinois Trail again. This time, I’ll be rolling along on a more capable bike to haul my gear from Lake Michigan to the Mississippi River and back.  There will be an additional twist to that trip.  I’ll write more about it later.  It’s an epic twist that embodies the vision statement for myself. It’s awesome, so very awesome!

Matthew wants to circumnavigate Lake Michigan and ride the Blue Ridge Parkway. Those sound like great trips.  I also wanted to head to Europe to ride.  I miss riding in Ireland. I want to ride in the Netherlands, Italy, and Spain.  I need to figure out how to make a boat load of money to do a ton of riding this summer.

The Boss Man didn’t approve my time off request to do Almanzo 100.  I have my eyes set on Gravel Metric in DeKalb, IL.  Matthew wants to do a few more gravel rides this summer.  We’ll see how that pans out.

There’s this thing call the triathlon I want to train for.  I found the right bike for me for my current needs.  She’s pretty cute, fast, and fun! I can’t wait to get her built. I want to peak around September.  All the bike touring and CARA marathon training should help.

The Year of the Bike.  I’m so ready for it.

I found rest  some  and time analyze the first half of the semester.  The rest felt good and I realized that I pushed myself too hard.

The first half of the semester left me mentally and physically exhausted.  It feels like things are tearing at the seams.  I registered for 17 credit hours.  I returned to work.  I want to get back to where I was during the Fall of 2010 with my running.  I’m still commuting.  I’m doing too much. I over extended myself. I’m living my life on fumes right now.  It’s not a good place to be.  I see people pushing hard to graduate while commuting and working.  I’m not that guy.  I’m the guy that’s struggling because his life isn’t in balance.  I’m on the brink of disaster here.

I gained 15 pounds.  I lost my running mojo.  My brain feels like it’s constantly shutting down and inefficient. I’m very behind in my classwork.  I’m withdrawing socially and constantly in a bad mood.

I filled my life with things missing in my life while on spring break: running, biking, sleeping, and dreaming.  I feel more positive and have more energy.  My mind doesn’t feel foggy.  I’m mentally productive again.

I’m not sure what I can change to put me in a better place.  My biggest regret is taking 17 credit hours BUT I can’t drop any classes according to NIU policy.  I’ll be commuting for the foreseeable future. The commitments have been made.

I can’t eliminate or delegate my commitments. I can do a few things right now.

1. I have to be more focused with my time. There’s no rest of the weary.
2. I need to simplify things.
3. Make time for restorative sleep while on campus to supplement the 5 hours  I get at home.  This can be in my car or on a couch in the student center.
4. Bring Big Blue to campus along with a lock.  I’ll leave Big Blue on campus so I can ride in the afternoon.
5. Workout before my commute to school.

The only thing I can change is what I do as soon as I get home and how much sleep I can find somewhere on campus.  I also need to get comfortable living out of my wagon. It’ll be a challenge to get through this semester but there’s only 8 weeks left.

I do know what I can do for next year to make my life better:

• max out at 15 credit hours,
• get an apartment relatively close to school, and
• possibly start or find a work-at-home gig.

Is there anything else I can do to make this situation better?

The snow slowly melts to seep into the ground and run into the sewers. The temperature was great for a Sunday afternoon ride around the north and northwest Chicago suburbs.  The sky was overcast and puddles lay on the roads.  It’s never a bad time to ride if you have the ride gear. I donned full protection from the rain for Big Blue doesn’t have fenders installed. Matthew and I headed out to do a short bike ride from Maine Township to Glencoe and back.

We avoided our typical North Branch Trail route because the paved trail often has packed snow. My legs felt great despite test riding potential new training partners after running the Muddy Monk 5k. By the time we arrived at Loyola Academy to visit our alma mater, it started to drizzle. The drizzle doesn’t faze us.  We’re hardy cyclists from the midwest rocking the proper gear.

Riding down Tower Road and Lagoons Drive felt peaceful and serene yet strange and beautiful at the same time.  Fog spilled onto the roadway from the surrounding forests.  The scene before you melts away into a gray nothingness.

It started to rain just as we were headed back from Glencoe.  We stopped at the Starbuck’s on Happ Road and Willow Road to refuel on some tasty drinks.  The patrons of this location presented a different body language differently than the patrons at the Fort Sheridan location I usually visit on my long rides.  They looked at us with an awkwardness that told us we didn’t belong here whereas the Fort Sheridan patrons treated us like other patrons.  Of everyone that came through, only two customers didn’t give us that uncomfortable look.

We continued our ride back. I love riding in the rain and the weather kept us giving more of it.  I heard a ‘Pft sssssssssssh!’ in downtown Glenview.  It sounded like a Pace bus kneeling to let riders on.  I didn’t hear a diesel engine behind me and I’m slowing down.  I experienced a flat tire in the rain.

Matthew and I flipped my bike upside down to change the tube, a Side wall blowout on my old Bontrager tires.  I’m surprised I lasted this long with that old tire.  Thankfully that didn’t happen while I was riding the Grand Illinois Trail.  It’s time to buy new tires for Big Blue!

We installed cardboard boot behind the blowout to buffer the blown up tube from the hole.  I slowly made my way back home without any incidents. All in all, it was a great ride.  It felt good being outside again in the saddle.  It sure beats riding at the gym on those machines.

Matthew and I committed ourselves to travel to Wisconsin to train at Lapham Peak and Kettle Moraine South this winter season. Chicagoland typically receives less snow than Wisconsin.  We were willing to sacrifice time, money, and energy to find decent snow and earn better times. The investment paid off.  I beat my old time by just over 25 minutes and had a great Birkie weekend.

We left in a winter storm that was hitting DeKalb and the Chicagoland area.  The ride north wasn’t so bad. We made it there safe and sound.  When we arrived at packet pickup, the parking volunteered asked Matthew what tribe he was with. We were so confused.  The volunteer asked us where we’re from.  We said we’re Chicago.  “You’re not LCO?” he asked.  “No we’re Filipino. What’s LCO?” I answered.  We found out LCO stands for, Lac Courte Oreilles, a local tribe in the area.  I guess Matthew’s long dark hair and dark features threw the volunteer off.  Native Americans and many Asian groups share similar facial features so I’m not knocking on the volunteer.  From this moment forward, I’ll be referring to Matthew as Bro LCO. (Only in this post, I promise!).

I didn’t feel the hunger for a new time or the excitement of doing this race.  Despite driving up to Wisconsin to ski, mother nature offered less opportunities to do so.  Going to school full time in DeKalb while commuting made training difficult.  I couldn’t make the time to go to the gym or run around my neighborhood.  Such is life I guess.  I found my way to the starting line.

The course seemed slower this year but more consistent.  I appreciated that a lot.  I felt the heart pumping and the muscles crying.  I steadily made my way back to Telemark.  The biggest difference between this race and my previous two attempts was the lack of falling and intimidation.  I lost a lot of time standing on top of hills fearing the downhill. I lost time recovering from a fall after I went down hill.  I didn’t flinch at the top of the hill. I fell only once when I to avoid a slow cutie in front of me. I felt so much slower though.

As soon as I crossed the finished line, my legs cramped like it did during the 2009 Chicago Marathon.  Thankfully, it cramped right while I received my 2013 Kortelopet pin.  I waddled it toward the warming tent with my gear bag so I can change out of my sweaty gear. I went to the timing table after getting my soup, bread, and banana.  I found out that I beat last year’s time!  Woohoo!!! We made our way back to my little red Chevy wagon.  Our next stop is the Hayward finish line to meet up with Clara!

Clara is this awesome person we worked with at the shop last year. She saw that we drove up to Wisconsin on Facebook and we made plans to meetup. After the race, we drove back to Hayward to meet up with Clara at Angler’s.  We drank our beer, chatted, and headed to Coop’s for food.

It was great spending time with Bro LCO and Clara.  I enjoyed listening to them.  I was so beat from the Kortelopet and it was nice to just listen and eat.  After we went our ways,  Matthew and I went back to the school to find a new spot to sleep and get ready for some good music at Sawmill Saloon in Seely, WI.

We never arrived to Sawmill to see 4 on the Floor perform live.  After setting up my sleeping pad and changed out of my ski gear, I passed out. I woke up the next morning to study monetary policy and prepped to leave Hayward. What a lamer right?  I really wanted to see 4 on the Floor again.  Next time.  Next time.

I needed to get a few things before we left.  First, I needed to get a photo of the giant fiberglass muskie in town.  Second, we wanted to buy New Glarus Brewy’s fine beers.  We found and photographed the muskie for Dan.  We acquired Spotted Cow, Snow Shoe Ale, and Coffee Stout. Yum…

We decided to stop at the Bikie On-Snow Ski demo.  Bro LCO wanted to test out some boots and waxable skis. I got a cool Salomon Buff from the cutest little girl. She was so proud of getting giving away the Buffs and kept on telling her dad how many was left.  Snow kids are cool.  After a satisfying test ride, Bro LCO and I proceeded back to Illinois.

Will I do another cross country ski race again? Yep.  Will it be the Kortelopet?  Nope.  I’ve decided to make a firm commitment to do the full Birkebeiner. It is this decision that delayed this recap.  I wasn’t sure if I want to invest the time and money to buy the gear to train with and take lessons.  It’s a high cost but I contracted the Birkie fever.

Fevers are contagious.

Two pieces of wisdom from the wise old Gambler aided me during this race. The first bit of advice I remembered was “You got to know when to hold ‘em, know when to fold ‘em, know when to walk away and know when to run.” and the other was “Now Ev’ry gambler knows that the secret to survivin’ is knowin’ what to throw away and knowing what to keep.” Today was the day I had to fold’em and walk away. It just wasn’t a good day for me to run this wonderful race.

Punk the Monk was held at Deer Grove East in Palatine, IL. We ran a standard trail race with one additional challenge, beat and punk the monk (AKA the race director in a monk costume)! It’s a great idea. A few people punked the monk.  I knew when to fold’em and walk away. It seemed like everyone had a good time.

I love running in blankets of snow.  However, it was a packed down course kills the ankles. I didn’t have eye protection so I can see and compensate for the variations in the white snow.  Towards the end, I was afraid of developing snow blindness. I slowed my pace down and walked for short stretches. I asked myself, “Why sacrifice yourself for this when I have an entire year of running and riding ahead of you?” I did take something positive from this race.  I realized how out of shape I am despite breaking my Kortelopet time by over 25 minutes in February.

I had a shitty trail run today. At least I got a beer (Porter), mason mug, (ran outside*), and a shirt out of it.

*added after a monk reminded me the awesomeness of this perk!