All in the Family... a Bank to Bay Race Report

Shortly before we left the house for Sunday's Bank to Bay race, Lisa disappeared into the bedroom with an old blue rag and a pair of scissors. She emerged a few minutes later, coyly proclaiming, "I made a Flashdance sweatshirt." It was a big morning... Payton's first race. Fashion was paramount.

Words can't describe how happy it made me to see these two line up for the 1k fun run. Payton's racing style tells me we may have a track star on our hands. Accelerate wildly, burn up all the fuel, walk for a bit to recover, repeat. Her mom was so proud to pin on the number, and Payton can't wait to show off her race shirt at school. So it begins.

I admired my Dad on this day, too, as he lined up for his latest of hundreds, maybe thousands of road races. For the first time, he's been feeling some pain from the awful, creeping cancer. But he lined up all the same, to do this race with family. The guy rarely runs anymore, but still cranks off 7:30 miles like he never quit. He would tell you that is almost unbearably slow. I find it amazing.

My race was decent, though I really would've liked to crack 40 minutes. It was the "secret goal" I didn't tell anyone about. But I'll get it next time. Felt strong, ran hard, and enjoyed the waning moments of a sunny Tacoma summer.

Bank to Bay 10K | Sunday, September 13, 2009
Time: 40:25 | Pace: 6:31 | Place: 29/796 | Age Place: 5/66

A different kind of hiking...

Last summer, I participated in Washington Trail Association's Hike-A-Thon benefit, and did 50 miles in the month of August. I got there, on the last weekend, with an intense and beautiful 15-miler on the PCT.

This summer, I had a different goal; finish a marathon. There's a wee bit of sacrifice that comes with such a goal, and we just didn't get to the mountains. Sunday 22-milers pretty much squash that.

But we did have a week in Montana, where the mountains are right outside any given back door. It was the perfect opportunity to enjoy some hiking of a different kind. No dramatic weather changes or scary snow traverses. No sweat running off the face like a leaky faucet. No heavy packs or wet boots. Just time with family in the hills of my hometown.

It's weird to return home and see the place in a completely new light. The town I couldn't wait to leave when I was 21 looks strangely like my vision of "perfect" nowadays. And you realize that time slips away all too easily. And you miss being able to meet your mom and pop for a casual stroll. I hope we get many more of these morning walks.

On a slightly less sentimental note... I like to try and stay behind my wife when we're hiking. Y'know, for the view. Mmmmmm... hiking.

Gonna catch up...

Now that summer is winding down, I will get back to writing. Sorry to have abandoned you, loyal tens of readers. Soon, I will write about the many crazy-awesome things that happened this summer. The things were many, and they were crazy. Awesome is a given. These posts will likely not come in chronological order. If you do not prefer this blogging style, you may kindly take a number and bite me. ~mike

Injury Avoidance for Urban Runners

Maybe you enjoy running in the city. Or maybe, like me, you're stuck putting in miles on the asphalt because it's your only option for a lunch-break quickie or weekend long run. Either way, the concrete jungle is a harsh environment for training. Here are a few things I've learned (all of them the hard way) about staying on your feet and out of ace bandages.

Easy there, turbo... warm up!
This applies to running anywhere... but on your regular runs in the city, when time is short and you know the route, the temptation is to get right into it. Don't. Spend 10-15 minutes getting the blood flowing. Build from a shuffle to a jog, and eventually to your desired pace. Oh, and save the stretches for after your run. Stretching cold muscles is kinda bad, mmmmk?

Stay off the sidewalk!
Sure, there will be times when you can't run in the street. But realize that the sidewalk is a gauntlet of curbs, blind driveways, tree roots, and low-hanging branches that you're better off avoiding. Stay in the road (left-side, facing traffic, of course) and you'll be far less likely to twist an ankle or get flattened by a car. You'll enjoy your run more, as you can just look down the street and go, rather than worrying about avoiding obstacles with your feet. Plus, asphalt is actually some degree softer than concrete. And over the course of hundreds or thousands of miles, that small difference could prove important to your longevity. Which brings us to...

Think soft!
Look for stretches in your runs where you can get off the street. No, not onto the sidewalk. What I mean is... look for stretches of dirt, gravel, or grass and run there when you can. Your knees will thank you. And you may actually find your ankles getting stronger and more injury-resistant as they "learn" to stabilize over surface irregularities. Ok, so when you can't run on something soft, at least try to run soft. There's a time to pound the pavement, but your Sunday morning 18-miler isn't it. Keep a compact stride. Focus on getting your feet back down to the pavement as quickly and smoothly as possible. Easier on the body, and helps you improve foot-speed... it's a win-win!

Be cautious and deliberate!
Yeah, yeah... this goes against the notion of zen running, running with a 6-pack of PBR on board, and all kinds of other new-agey ideals. But if you don't want to get hurt, stay aware of what your body is doing, and plan for what it's about to do. I once pinched a nerve in my neck by spinning my head around too fast (to check for cars as I prepared to cross a street)... out for almost a week. Slow down. I've also pulled a calf muscle by taking off too fast when a stoplight turned green... out for two weeks. Slow down. Anytime you will be changing direction, speed, or intensity, take a moment to think and plan... then slow down.

Know when to walk away!
Sometimes you won't feel an injury until the next day. Sometimes you feel something pop while you're running. In the latter, stop right away. Walk. Is the pain dulling? Ok, start jogging and build slowly back up to pace if it's disappeared. If the pain lingers or gets worse, call a friggin' cab. It's the city, man! There's a time to run through pain... it's called "race day." Don't chance it right now, gambler. Fold 'em, then go home and crack a cold one.

Have any tips of your own? I'd love to hear 'em...

Mama... come quick! I found my rhythm!

Just like Steve Martin in "The Jerk", I recently discovered something about my rhythm. Or rather, about my biorhythm.

Do you believe in biorhythms? Labeled a "pseudoscience" by some, I became a believer in the cyclical ebb-and-flow of awesomeness during the Torchlight 8K race in Seattle last Saturday night. I've created a fairly sophisticated illustration (below) to walk you through this race report. The chart flows left-to-right from the moment I woke up, to whenever it was I passed out.

7am: Wakey wakey eggs and bakey. Or just skip the breakfast and pour a beermosa. Feeling pretty good here. Yeah, sure... there's a race later, but that's a loooong time from now.

10am: I have a great idea... how about some yard work? After all, I've almost recovered from last weekend's bout with shovel-and-rake (in which I managed to fall on my head, be nearly crushed by a yard waste container, and strain my back in separate incidents). The awesome level is peaking. I'm good at yard work. It's hot. Here, have a PBR.

12pm: You know what goes well with yard work? Painting, that's what. It can't possibly hurt to spiff up the house a bit while I wait for race time to come around. In fact, if I have a beer (just one, mind you) the carbs might actually prove beneficial later.

3pm: On the bus to downtown. Fading. Just a little. A nap sounds kinda nice.

4:15pm: Race organizers recommended I show up at 4:30 to pick up my number and packet. After all, the lines will be huge. I'll show them. 15 minutes early, suckers!

4:20pm: Wow, that line moved fast. I guess now we... wait.

5:00pm: And wait.

6:00pm: Is there someplace I can lay down?

6:30pm: START! Alright, this won't be so bad. No, nevermind. This pretty much sucks. Ok, just settle into a pace and don't lose sight of that guy in the tube socks up there... stick with him! Damn, that guy's fast. He must be doping. Here, I'll run with this 11 year-old kid for awhile. There, that's b... hey, slow down! Little doper.

6:50pm: Running down 4th Ave in front of thousands of people waiting for the parade to start. Little kids jump out to high-five the runners. I want to acknowledge 'em. Really I do. But they're kind of pissing me off with all their "energy" and "enthusiasm" and what-not. Just run.

7:03pm: Ok, the finish line is just around that corner. I think I have one more kick left in me (so my wife thinks I'm a stud). Here we go! There, I can hear her off to the left cheering louder than everyone else's wives combined. Spirits lifting. Just. Stomp. The line.

7:15pm: Beer me, baby.

8:00pm: Now this is fun. I'm good at parade watching. Next year maybe we'll just skip the whole "running" part.

Seafair Torchlight 8K | Saturday, July 25, 2009
Time: 33:50 | Pace: 6:48 | Place: 189/2681 | Age Place: 11/187

What's next?

I told myself (and a select few in the circle of trust) that if I didn't absolutely hate marathoning after Missoula, there was a small, outside chance that perhaps I maybe might possibly consider entertaining the thought of doing another one.

Ok, Portland Marathon. Here we (probably) come!

My goals will be more concrete this time, and the training more marathon-specific. There are about 10 training weeks left, with a 10-day taper at the end. I hope to knock 17 minutes off my Missoula time, for a 3:15.

I want to try something a little unorthodox for training; alternate speed and distance weeks. It would break down something like this...

On speed weeks, run 5-7 miles 4x per week, including at least one hill workout and one tempo run. Do track or hill work on Saturdays that builds in intensity over the 10 weeks. Weekly mileage: 25-35. On distance weeks, run 6-8 miles 4x per week. Do long runs on Saturdays that build in distance from 15 miles in week 1, to 28 miles in week 10. Weekly mileage: 40-60.

My thinking is that mixing up the workouts will shock my body into quicker improvement. I'm leaving two days of rest per week mostly because I like to do things other than run. Like sit on the beach with a cold one.

Anyone have experience with a plan like this? Or, what kind of plan have you used to improve speed after a first marathon?

Missoula Marathon - 15 pictures

These pictures will tell a lot of the story from my marathon. You won't, however, see the to-do list I wrote the night before as I paced my Missoula hotel room. A list containing such gems as "take a shower", "get dressed", and of course the unforgettable "lube up". But you will see what my dad saw as he stopped every couple miles to document my progressive suffering and deteriorating form (thanks, man). And you'll see what I meant in the first post when I told you, this was all about family.

Pinning on the number.

My biggest fan and unquestioning supporter. My Lisa. Just out of frame, the giant pepperoni stain on my sweatshirt.

See, there's that stain. Very, very classy. Dad and I at the start.

After the gun. Third guy back is my cousin, who won the race in course-record time.

I ran my first couple miles very easy and felt great.

After seeing these pictures, I have dubbed my left hand "the claw", and vow to fix this disturbing form flaw.

This is what we call "heavy legs" at about mile 20. Sweet ride in the background. "Ok, they're not 20's, they're 10's. But I keep 'em clean."

Return of the claw.

A really pasty guy crossed the line just before me, but I looked way cooler. Fist pump, yo.

You know your dad's proud when he doesn't ask you to put a shirt on for the hug-shot.

My mom and Dave. Moments like this are fleeting. But I'll never forget.

My in-laws Bob and Kay stayed in town an extra day just to see the finish.

I insisted on a trip to the salad bar before my nap. Yep, always putting good health first.

Missoula Marathon 2009

"Last mile, buddy. Remember this."

As I pounded out my last, painful strides on the Missoula asphalt, my dad rode alongside on his bike and spoke these final words of wisdom. "Remember this." He had come from Seattle to be a part of this day and ridden the entire marathon route, stopping every few miles to snap a photo and give a little encouragement.

My legs lightened, then disappeared.

I rounded the last corner onto the Higgins Street Bridge. And there, on the left, was my mom, cheering with hands in the air, and my stepdad smiling ear-to ear. "Go, Michael!" They had loaded me up with homemade carbs the day before, and driven four hours just for this moment.

I kicked hard and challenged the guy next to me, "Let's go!"

Exhausted. Don't fall. Stay up. I knew Lisa, the kids, and my in-laws were right there. I could hear the cowbell. Lisa had gotten up at 4am to drive me to the start. Didn't want to miss a single moment. She had encouraged me through months of training, put up with my stress and worry on this "vacation", and even helped the kids make big posterboard signs for the finish.

I put one hand in the air and stomped the timing mat.

Two of my dad's old Montana running buddies were the first to find me. "You're in the club now." Then came Lisa, glowing with excitement and wrapping herself around me for the best hug ever. Next my kids, not normally out of bed before noon in the summer. Suddenly everyone was there. The picture I had painted in my head, the one which kept me going through the thousands of steps now behind... the picture had come to life.

There's nothing particularly heroic about running 26 miles. Just about anyone can put one foot in front of the other for a few hours. It was not a sense of having "conquered the roads" that made me feel like a hero in Missoula last weekend. It was my family's love. And that is what I will always remember about my first marathon.

Missoula Marathon | Sunday, July 12, 2009
Time: 3:32:12 | 13mi Split: 1:42:52 | Pace: 8:06 | Place: 80th of 615

...

Such a tease...

I don't usually do the "sorry, can't blog right now" thing, but... we're in the 11th hour of a move from Seattle to Tacoma, with all the requisite late nights, stress, and general chaos that comes along. And uh, well... sorry, can't blog right now.

But I do want to tease the write-up and photos from Sunday's Livestrong Challenge, which will receive my full attention, once we're settled in our new home. Let me just say that this ended up being the most rewarding 8 hours I've ever spent on a bike seat. I'm proud of my Dad for gutting it out, and so glad we got to do this ride together. My wife and kids cheered us across the finish, and I pretty much felt like the luckiest guy on Earth.

But yeah, details to come. Right now there's a teenager's room to pack. Wish me luck... teenagers are not known for their cleanliness and organizational skills. Dis gon' be ugly. (photo below taken at the finish)

The Wend Story: Part 2

In Part 1 of our interview, Wend Editor Stiv Wilson talked about the magazine's unique personality, its early days, and told us why Portland makes such a great home base. Let's hear about the people who work so hard to bring us this gem of a magazine. Enjoy!
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Part 2: Wend People

MSB: Who turns the gears at Wend? What's it like in your office?

SW: We're four business partners and one employee, though our employee has equity in the company. We also have a few independent contractors for accounting, ad sales, copy, etc. and a couple of interns who rock. Our office is pretty kick ass. It's a big industrial warehouse space with toys everywhere: surfboards, skateboards, snowboards, split-boards, tents, skis, snow shoes, bikes, backpacks, beer, day packs, you name it. We have a ping-pong table, and a rule that when tension strikes, you have to pong it out. Beers get cracked a lot at 4pm, and there is a lot humor. I speed to get to work.

Normally, in a traditional publishing model, you get an editorial hierarchy, which often suffers behind an editor who wants to exact his or her own vision, but can't because he or she is a slave to the advertisers and "the perception" of what the brand is at present. Tension arises because the executive officers who hired the editor have made the magazine a whore to those advertisers, which too often means you get a men's fashion magazine with an outdoor feel and a bunch of internal hypocrisy. I mean really, c'mon, you have the nerve to put a Hummer ad in your annual Green Issue? I understand the bottom line and all, but have some dignity.

This isn't how we do things editorially at Wend, nor is it how the people we've stacked on our board of directors look at our model. I want to reflect my reader's vision and values, and I want to know what my other editors are thinking, uncensored. Because my other editors are brilliant, I don't give a crap who's great idea it was, if it's better than mine, we're rolling with it. At the end of the day, I control what's in the book, yes, but you'd be hard pressed to find a story that my other editors don't fully back. My right hand editor is a woman, and I defer to her about how women get portrayed in the magazine. Yes, men like to look at women, that's true. But I don't want women portrayed as an object, but rather an agent. Men don't own the world of badass-ed-ness, but most outdoor editors make it appear that way. Basically, I'm not an asshole or a hypocrite, nor is anyone I work with, which means the product we create comes from the heart with honesty, critical thought, and mutual respect. Readers feel it.

Ian runs the marketing/branding show, Melissa is the ad sales manager and money bean counter, Zach is the design/aesthetic of the brand, and Anna and I are the wordsmiths. Anna is our only true employee and we'll pay her weight in gold and equity to keep her around. She rocks. Kyle is our main intern who we'll hire as an editor once he's out of grad school.

MSB: Your writers and photographers are consistently, for lack of a better word, awesome. How do you find them? If someone wanted to contribute to Wend, how would they go about it? What do you look for in a story?

SW: Awesome is an awesome word, and I dig it, so thanks. I can't really tell you how we do it, as it's not one particular mode, and there are some trade secrets I don't want to divulge, for fear of being copied, yet again. But let's put it this way; we are the only magazine in our market that understands how modern journalism really works, and we've brought that understanding into our publishing model. And we're not arrogant about it, so I think we attract a lot of talented people to our project who might have otherwise been dissuaded by the pomp so many others display. Magazine publishing has suffered too long because at the hand of New York style hubris, and we flatly reject that kind of crap. If you own a $1,000 camera and a good eye, you can be as good as almost any pro photographer.

I think the old model magazines are so used to having people come to them, that they cease to look out into the world to see what's really going on.

Being a first person, narrative driven magazine, means that by nature, Wend is going to be more personal. Our three other competitors always write 'about a person' and we publish stories written by the people they write 'about.' A good story is a good story and the writer's byline is only two words in it. I grew up skateboarding, and in skateboarding there's a code: the biggest badass talks the least and their ain't no such thing as a celebrity. I take those values to heart with regard to Wend.

If you want to contribute to Wend, check out the writer's guidelines at Wendmag.com. And be patient, please. As Editor in Chief, I won't be a dick to you, but I'm in the 150-200 emails a day club. If you're passionate and qualified to write your story, you'll get in. And to sum up what I'm looking for in one word: Authenticity.
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Next Installment: Ethos

Looking good for Missoula...

Regular readers might recall that I planned to do my first marathon at the end of June, Seattle's Rock-n-Roll shindig. Missing my chance to enter that race, I think, is going to end up being a blessing-in-disguise. Now, I can cap my family's annual Montana summer vacation with the Missoula Marathon.

Missoula's long been my favorite Montana city. Always said if I couldn't have lived in Seattle, that's where I would've gone after leaving my hometown of Helena. The marathon is only in its third year... my cousin Kiefer actually won the damn thing in its inaugural running.

I'll be nowhere near his winning time of 2:43, but I am feeling strong. On a 22-mile run yesterday, at training pace, I finished right around 3 hours. Gives me hope that a marathon around 3:30 is not out of the question.

In any case, I'm excited to be doing my first "big one" in the motherland with friends and family there to help ease the pain. Here we come, Mizzou!

Thanks Bobby!

Bobby Gonzales is an old friend and classmate from my University of Washington VCD (Visual Communications Design) days. Can't believe that qualifies us as "old friends", but hey, it has been almost 10 years since we donned the purple caps and collected that $30,000, suitable-for-framing piece of paper.

Big-ups to Bobby for sponsoring my 100-mile ride in the Livestrong Challenge. Thank you! It's time for a class reunion (and I know who will be bringing the poker chips).

The Wend Story: Part 1

I love Wend. There is nothing else like it on news stands. Back in the day, when I believed I might shoehorn more hours into the day and launch an outdoors website, it seemed natural that I would write about it.

So, I reached out to Editor Stiv Wilson, and asked if he might help a brotha' out. He got back to me right away and agreed to an email interview. I spent a couple days crafting some questions, getting things just right, and fired it off. Then, I waited.

Quite some time passed before I (somewhat reluctantly) sent a reminder. Last thing I wanted to do was be the pesky 6-year old kid tugging at the pant leg of my respected elder. But tug I did, and Stiv was indeed "stirred" to reply.

His email was abrupt, chastising me for including in my first question the line, "I was surprised by how quickly you answered my interview request". Stiv felt he hadn't responded quickly and that my statement was disingenuous (had to look that word up). He proceeded to make it clear that he wasn't interested in letting me prop-up my business on the Wend name. Humble pie, anyone?

As tough as it was to accept that electronic slap on the wrist, I now appreciate the forthrightness, and am really excited to publish this interview (albeit not on the kick-ass outdoors site I had envisioned). The story of Wend, its culture, the environmental ethos it lives, breathes, and feeds... and yes, its outspoken and straight-shooting Editor are infinitely interesting.

Over the coming installments, I hope you'll find a similar fascination, and maybe gain some insight and inspiration.
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Part 1: Roots

MSB: Thanks for taking time to share the Wend story. Your magazine comes across as uniquely personal… like a friend spinning stories over a cold beer. Is that sense of accessibility something for which you strive? Perhaps something you thought was missing from other magazines?

SW: Being uniquely personal is definitely something we strive for. To me, outdoor adventure stories should be a slightly more refined version of the kick ass story your buddy tells you around a camp fire. All the other mags in our market use the age old rockstar/hero formula (Lance Armstrong is on the cover again!) and after reading about these dudes (and I say dudes because they barely, barely cover women unless they're 'uncovering them') you just feel like you’re 'never going to be that good.' I've met a lot of badass adventurers in my life, and all of them, besides being great athletes are in fact human and as such, are imperfect. I like to draw that out in our publication because those aspects are what our readers can empathize with. Our heroes are people who go into the wild for a purpose other than their own bragging rights. The humility I approach our editorial with comes from being a surfer and realizing no matter how good I get, the ocean is always going to remind me how bad I suck. Nature isn't something you conquer, it's something you respect. Adventure is a state of mind, and a way of life. I'm sick of the cabal that exploits and deifies it in print, and then sells it with tits. Those people aren't real, they're airbrushed and they sure as hell ain't you and me.

MSB: What was the catalyst for creating Wend? Does the story begin in a basement with a PC and a pirated copy of Photoshop, or did you hit the ground running and land, glossy paper and all, in 7-11 stores everywhere? Tell us about the early days.

SW: No comment on the Photoshop, but it wasn't a PC, it was a Mac. Ian Marshall, our [then] publisher and founder, was approached by an investor and Ian developed the concept, brought his idea to me, and I was stoked to get involved. He figured out how to sell it without selling it out, and I figured out how to get it written. But we had issues with the initial investor's business ethic/aesthetic sense, and we left him in the spring '08, and forged out on our own. We worked for nothing in the early days, and when we took control, we structured our own pay below market value so we could be printed on sustainable paper, as we wanted to be putting our money where our mouth is.

MSB: Every journey needs a home base. How important is the city of Portland as yours?

SW: Portland is awesome; everyone lives here to get out of here on the weekends. You have every kind of adventure sport within 60 miles of downtown, and you have a city full of enviros who want to protect the wild places where they play. It's like living in the Platonic form of your demographic. Not to mention there are a lot enviro outdoor brands here too. Also, Oregon has every kind of climate that the continental US has, and since we do all our stock photography in house, it's helpful to have mountain, desert, and ocean a short drive away.
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Next Installment: Wend People

One more call to y'all...

Well, the day is nearly upon us. And while I'm not really in the kind of shape a guy should be in to ride 100 miles, I couldn't be happier that my dad has signed up to ride the Livestrong Challenge alongside me. In fact, the ol' turkey has out-fundraised his son!

Thank you to everyone who has pledged their support to this point. If you haven't stepped up, please consider it. Visit my Personal Challenge Page and make a donation! Any amount is appreciated.

Thanks all. Watch this space for a ride report at the end of the month!