What goes around, comes around. Stop me if you’ve heard that one before. However in many ways it’s true that sometimes you may not even realize or see coming. Be it vertically, horizontally, on an axis or perhaps even counter clockwise. Over and over ends up with what is old becomes new again. Yes, details certainly vary but consider the inevitable phases of life we go through be it by the day, week, year or decade.

Think about all of those movies made for kids but even as adults we secretly enjoy. OK, maybe sometimes not so secretly. One of the latest I saw was Soul and before that was Coco but watching Bambi at a young age certainly brought on some heavy duty thoughts and feelings about life and death. (And for good measure, here’s the Lion King’s Circle of Life. There are plenty more: Jungle Book, Up, Land Before Time, Finding Nemo, Charlotte’s Web, etc.. Hakuna Matata, am I right?)

If I start adding poetry, books and music, I would never finish this. I will use this lyric to sum it up spiritually and somewhat scientifically…

“We are stardust, we are golden, we are billion year old carbon,
And we got to get ourselves back to the garden.”

(Did you sing that in your head as you read it?)

It’s even easier for me to sit here typing this looking outside as leaves float to the ground that I will soon be raking as yet another fall is upon us. I am 51 years old and it is October of 2021. Like so many… more to the point… Like too many, all of the confusion, stress, struggle and despair from what is going on in the world pretty much leaves us spinning anyway. As I have been trying to focus on what I have in my power to help slow things down and simplify life as much as possible, I have found myself back in similar spots that I never knew I would.

Towards the end of 2019, I felt 2020 coming like a freight train. In my gut, I knew things were going to get bad and fast and with that it was still even worse than I expected. It really broke things down to what matters most and much of the fun in life was certainly tampered down. I work for an internet provider and in March of 2020 when the world was locked down and told to quarantine, my industry and position within the company became all the more vital. Anyone on the planet with a device that could get on the internet was all on the internet at once for the first time ever. We needed to expand our bandwidth as much as possible. That meant me going into the office and up until a couple of weeks ago, never took a real break. Physically showing up no matter what was going on as we had storms and protests and riots and oh yeah, that Covid thing requiring us to get our temperature checked before entering the building and then wearing masks throughout. It was a lot.

Before continuing, a huge thank you to the health care workers and other essential employees putting in the tough work. When I was sent credentials to post in the rear window of my car in case of a national emergency so that I could travel on the roads, that made it all the more serious to me. At least I work alone in my office but in a shared building. Thank you again to all who put themselves in harms way to help the rest of us.

So here we are a year and a half later and things were starting to come back around again. Unfortunately, my joy, my passion, and more disturbing to me was my fire seem to have all gone away. All areas of my life were impacted but watching my loved ones, friends and family struggle made it all the tougher. What I had done in the past was no longer working for me in terms of cheering me up. If I am to ever be of help for anyone, I need to be good first. Like instructions on the plane when you’re supposed to put the oxygen mask on yourself before assisting anyone else. That’s not to come off as selfish and you’ll have to trust me when I say that it means more to me to help others than to worry about myself.

Now that the universe essentially Marie Kondo’d everything, I needed to find things that sparked joy again. This was tougher than I thought. Watching late night talk shows without audiences helped. Seth Myers and I are best friends now. He just doesn’t know it yet. Little by little, I was getting there. Dove back into music and allowed Spotify to suggest things based on sharing info and trusting their algorithms (and stay tuned for my new band called Al Gore Rhythms) and then reading more, avoiding social media, spending quality time with friends and family and getting into watching movies again instead of streaming show after show. I would like to thank Taika Waititi for introducing me to this quote at the end of Jojo Rabbit…

An old standby for me had always been some form of exercise and over the last 25 years in particular, running was a huge part of that. (Should you care to read more of my babble, here is how I got started.) Preparing for races as a form of carrot in front of the mule approach really motivated me. Soon enough, I am meeting more and more people through running and it becomes a social aspect, too. With the fire all but out, running with any real purpose was not happening and I was certainly going through anxiety and depression in the spring for many reasons I won’t delve into but one that had been a long time coming was the death of my father and the impact that had on me.

Even though I am referencing circles, a triangle comes in play here. There are 3 things a fire needs to start. Oxygen, Fuel and Heat.

Remove one of those 3 and the fire dies. I would guess all 3 were removed from within me. Getting outside to walk the pup had me meeting more and more new people in the neighborhood. I guess that was enough oxygen to help get some running in again. Then my brother asked if I could help my 14 year old nephew with conditioning for football and to take him running. I made it a conversation with him trying not to be a bully about it and he still hated it but we got it done…

My other brother hears about this and asked why I didn’t invite his daughter? I set up another one at my mother’s house and this time my nephew Tyler and his cousin Kaylee show up along with her little sister Leah who didn’t want to be left out. Kaylee recently found out that if she broke an 8 minute timed mile at high school soccer tryouts that it would give her an advantage so she started training on her own. We go up to the high school and do some drills at the track and also run the bleachers before doing some 400s so she can feel the pace she needs. Tyler TOTALLY hated those and Leah hung in there finishing each lap with a huge smile on her face. Over the next few weeks, they were all working hard and getting a text from Leah telling me she did a whole mile in under 9 minutes and barely walked absolutely warmed my heart. Kaylee not only ends up breaking an 8 minute mile but she ran a 6:52 and was the first overall finisher at tryouts. The soccer coach informed her that she will be going out for track in the spring. It’s not a competition but I think I was prouder of her than her dad.

This is at the same time that large in person races started to happen again. First for me was the Philly 10k (6.2 miles) that’s only been around since 2014 but was started by a couple of ambassadors to the Philly Running world and I am so happy for them and hope this is around for years and years to come. In 2014 when I was very much on top of my running, I finished this race in 42:28. This year I almost did not show up as I was crippled with anxiety and nervous again for lots of reasons but made it to the start where things were surprisingly calm and then ran it in 42:09 (6:47 per mile.) Hmmmm… A few weeks later is the Philadelphia Distance Run Half Marathon. The race that started it all for me in 1997 that was a staple in the Philly running world before becoming a corporate mess after it was sold. But now the same group that started the Philly 10k was in charge of it. With no real training again, I show up and run a 1:31:19 (6:58 per mile) and my 51 year old legs were more than 30 minutes faster than my 27 year old ones.

Along the way I started putting myself back out there and met up with Achilles to do some guide running…

And also helped organize an event for the Fishtown Beer Runners after David asked for help finding safe venues to run to right as my good friend Greg asks if I could help set up an event for New Balance and it all works out great after Love City Brewing agrees to host it in their circus tent.

This is all leading up to the second Monday in October and the 125th running of the Boston Marathon but with a wonderful detour first. Almost 32 years to the day after my friend Stacey and I took a road trip to go camping in West Virginia, I get an invite from Liz to go camping with Colin and company in West Virginia again to do some class 5 white water rafting. I manage to make the necessary arrangements to get there and any of the hum drum feelings that had taken over were certainly washed away after 4 hours rafting on the Upper Gauley. Getting to the bar after putting my stuff away and meeting up with our crew and having them all yell, “HAVE YOU SEEN YOUR FACE?!?!?” and automatically thinking I had an open head wound or something but really they were talking about this…

Here is the full sequence of pictures…

And one more for good measure

I guess the fire is burning more than I realized after getting told I looked like a viking going into battle. Now the fuel ends up being the Boston Marathon 8 days later. In all honesty, the Boston Marathon may as well have been the moon landing. It was never going to happen for me but when I made it there in 2011, it felt like I made it to the Olympics. I was convinced I didn’t belong and would likely never be back let alone for this historic version of it.

The Boston Marathon on its own is already something that is not easily put into words. Reading what someone else has to say is never going to give the experience justice in the same way that any photo you ever see of the sunset at the Grand Canyon will ever be the same as being there for it. Story after story. Look at the last 10 years since my first. The horrific bombing incident and then Meb wins and then in 2018 in the Nor’Easter and Des wins and then last year was all virtual but now we’re all back. And, uhm… me included for the first time ever that the race was not happening in April.

I didn’t even make my travel arrangements until about 2 weeks prior because I was waiting for another postponement. This time I am going completely solo with no real plans other than being at my bus to take me to the start Monday morning. In 2011, I felt like a total outsider. In 2021, I know dozens of people up there and see them on the streets prior, in the bus line on the way up, during the race and then eventually after the race. It was such a crazy weekend in the running world because the Chicago Marathon was the day before as the Broad Street 10 Miler was happening in Philadelphia. Now all eyes on what is to me the best of the bunch.

When it comes to marathons and especially the training, I am all about details because those matter most. For this one, it was totally seat of the pants just like my first half marathon in 1997 where I just showed up and ran it. I ride the bus up with Brandon, who I saw in line and have known since roughly 1985 going to parties at his house like Farmer Ted in 16 Candles, and he was on his 97th Boston Marathon. It made the ride up so relaxed and easy and then we get to the start and I forgot it was essentially just go ahead and run whenever you want to. The starting gun for the elites had gone off 2 hours before so we literally could just walk up and go when we were ready. See…

It dawned on me on the way up that I was winging this so I chuckle to myself realizing that I am about to Leeroy Jenkins the freakin’ Boston Marathon. Having experience on this course matters so much. The first mile is totally downhill and gives the impression that you’re able to fly through the whole thing but in reality you are likely frying your legs for later on. I nailed my first mile and then settled in. The crowds were so amazing and fun. The race was going so fast and smooth on such a perfect Autumn day in New England.

Then the Newton hills start. Heartbreak Hill gets all of the headlines but it’s the culmination of hills at around miles 16 through 21. At mile 18, my legs were done and the 7:30 per mile pace I was holding was going away. The rest of the race was going to happen from scar tissue, memories, guts and grit. I didn’t hold back on screaming like that viking going into battle instead of letting the incredible pain take over. I asked for this and knew it was coming. I am more than happy with the 3:31:28 finish. I earned that medal.

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It has been 2 weeks since I crossed that finish line and I still am soaking it in. According to my watch, I took 50,106 steps that day and I think I could tell you about each and everyone of them. I feel physically recovered and am walking like a normal human again. I have done some running but do wonder if I will ever get back on that course. If not, the time I have spent trodding along it following in the footsteps of greatness has humbled me and made me appreciate this world with new eyes. I feel fortunate to add this to the list of experiences to cherish and learn from preparing me for the next go round.

So here I am back at the start… I think? Of what? To where? Why? How? At least I know there is still a flame to fan when I need it to get brighter. I am hopeful that things are turning toward the better and not just for me. I am wiser and looking forward to the next phase. I think I am good and ready to be of use to this world again. An old Irish toast I like to give goes something like this, “May today be the best day of your life and may all of your tomorrows be even better.”

Winter is around the corner but there is enough heat to get me through it. My fuel will be to get ready for a few races in the not too far off future and the oxygen will come from friends, family and this goofy pup…

Another quote that tends to go around inside my head is from good ol’ Benjamin…

I will keep trying to catch it but will also keep an eye out to see if happiness is already here. Instead of attempting to make things more serious, and I am not that deep so don’t go diving head first into my nonsense, let’s let music take over again to wrap this up. Initially I was thinking of Annie and the “Sun will come out tomorrow” but I think this one is a little more on the nose…

Of course the name of the band is Dead or Alive. Try not to get too dizzy, too high or too low.

Be safe. Be kind. Be well. Just remember to be.

When I convinced myself to start this blog, it was based on the idea that you can go for a run in any conditions and under any circumstances knowing full well that certain extremes would and should cause you to stay in. Electrical storms, hurricanes, blizzards, blazing heat, etc.. I won’t list the silliness I’ve gone out in and am well aware that people have gone out in way worse. These are just the environmental factors, however.

Physical issues are a whole other ball game. The repetitive motion of running lends itself to injury sometimes no matter how well you prepare. Perhaps the terrain gets to you. Trail running is usually better on your bones but not if you’re tripping on roots. The sidewalks aren’t always a picnic, either. Just more stuff to factor in as you lace up those shoes… unless you go barefoot or wear those flip-flops. Sometimes you shouldn’t try to run through an injury.

Emotional issues? Well, welcome to today’s topic.

Last Saturday was the Uberendurance Dirty German Fest offering a 25k, 50k and 50 mile distances. My twisted friend Maggie twisted my arm to run this for the first time almost 8 years ago. One of my first trail races and I’ve gone back every year since…aside from the blip that was 2020… and was really looking forward to getting out there for the 50 miler.

2 months prior had run a 65 miler from Philly to the Atlantic Ocean with Eric “The Dharma Runner” Wilden and felt healthy and strong other than missing some time after the vaccination shots.

Late afternoon the Sunday prior as I’m getting out of the shower, I see a missed call from my brother. I call right back and he tells me our father had passed away.

There’s a meme that needs to be shared here…

I can say that my “Fuck this Shit” quota had already been over flowing as of late. Life can throw a lot at you and we all have our own thresholds and tolerances. I have had more than my share of curveballs thrown my way but leading up to the race last weekend, it was the entire opposing team on the mound all throwing curveballs at the same time. Except for that one bastard who drilled me in the ribs with a fastball.

The weather forecast called for rain possibly all weekend. The night before it was a total downpour but by the time the alarm went off, the rain had passed through. I get there and am lucky enough to park with time to get to the start. Because of Covid restrictions, the start was in waves of 20 runners per. I was in the 3rd grouping. Off we go.

I love this course. The trails were muddy with some big puddles here and there but that just makes it fun. There are a few water crossings that will clean off your shoes. A few miles in, I’m running with a pack of 3-4 runners and as per usual, conversations strike up. I’m gabbing away with Adam who drove down from Brooklyn with a couple of car loads from their training group. We join in with an Army vet from Virginia who drove up with a bunch of his friends. At the 2nd aid station, I bump into my friend Jasmine and we share some miles. We’re all moving along well and having a blast in what is the usual magic of a trail race.

I was completely transported from all concerns and just focused on the steps in front.

Until I wasn’t.

At some point, all that was good was no longer helping. I think things we were talking about all started creeping in and reminding me that I wasn’t OK. I had yet to really start digesting everything especially after the day before’s conversations about what to do with my father’s remains once they get shipped back to the states and how to go about his final wishes, which are to have those ashes scattered in Minnesota. I think I convinced myself to take them there.

To be clear, we were not close these last 40 years really. He was not a good dad. He was not a good husband to my mom but she did her best and kept a roof over our heads and kept us fed. I watched him be everyone else’s best friend and have essentially grown up with wondering why I wasn’t worth my father’s love. All of the therapists and shrinks in the world are never going to get me to realize more that it was not my fault and that I am worth that love but it will never erase the fact that I didn’t get it. Nor did my brothers or my half-brother and I can’t speak for any step siblings or half siblings beyond that.

The memories aren’t all bad but if I am being honest with myself, I have to keep different versions of those memories. Telling the story of how on Thanksgiving night in 1977 he packs the family up and takes us the Spectrum in Philly to see Queen play live sounds amazing, right? Hey, I’ll never forget being a little kid and seeing one of the greatest rock bands ever in their prime. The real version is, he was a selfish man who wanted to go but had this family thing to deal with so he abruptly ends dinner and tells us all that we’re going to the show. Loads my mom, little brother and I in the car and I remember a shady transaction with a ticket scalper but we make it in and I stand on my seat the rest of the night in awe but my mom is freaked out and my 3 year old brother falls asleep in her arms. But we got see Queen.

Along the lines of A Boy Named Sue, this all made me who I am. Unlike the story in the song, there never was the big face to face show down with any reconciliation afterwards. He was never wrong and once you weren’t with him, you were always against him. I know he loved me. He was just too much of a coward to tell me. I’m going to have to be OK with that.

The last time I saw him was with my 2 brothers about 14 years ago on my brother’s patio. As awkward as the whole thing was, the conversation turned to me running marathons. My father was known as a boxing and wrestling promoter but before that was managing bands, including an Elvis tribute band that took us all over the country in the late 70’s and early 80’s. Before all of that, he actually was a good athlete and was a varsity track star… in full disclosure, he was a star at everything he did… So instead of asking me about marathon running, he tells me that running that far for someone his size, he was 5’6″ and I’m 5’11”, would be way more difficult. Marathons are easier for someone my height because I wouldn’t have to take as many steps as someone shorter. The comment in my head that never leaves my mouth was about how most marathon winners were also the starting center on their high school’s basketball team. Naturally.

It turns out with the “Go Run In This” approach to running, that another obstacle to factor in would be grief. The Dirty German 50 miler is 3 loops and as I reached the end of the first loop and feeling physically fine, my heart was not in it. I started running the 2nd loop but didn’t want to continue. The push from certain trauma wasn’t there. The inspiration to do it for a greater purpose was no where within me. I was done. 16+ miles was it. I go to the table where the timers were to let them know I took off and wasn’t lost in the woods. I saw Jasmine prepping for her second lap and finally admit what was going on and as the words escaped my lips, was the first time my voice cracked and I got emotional about it. I wished her well and went to my car.

Later that night and the following days, friends were reaching out to see what happened and where I was and I have yet to answer any of them and for that I feel bad and do apologize. I managed a few miles a couple of days ago and a few more yesterday as a car goes by blaring “Papa was a Rolling Stone” because… of course it would.

Running has been a release for me in the past. My passion for it is not there at all right now but I’ll get it back. Whether it is 100 meters or 100 miles, if your heart isn’t there you are not going to perform the way you should. I put the pedal down to see what was in the tank on my last mile yesterday and it reminded me that if I want to do this stuff, I still can. I have a few races on the calendar, including my 5th Boston Marathon this fall, a birthday next week and the sun is staying out longer and the weather has been fantastic. The spark will come back. I mentioned those curveballs and the fastball to the ribs. I am always going to step to the plate for the next at bat.

Seeing too many friends lose their dads and the impact it had. It’s different for all of us no matter the circumstances. They miss what they had and I will miss what I never had now knowing I never will get to have it. What I am most proud of is seeing my brothers and the amazing fathers they have become. My nieces and nephews are lucky to have them and I love them all. I need to keep telling them that more.

I will toe a starting line again. I’ll put in the work to get faster and go farther. I am not done yet. As the name of the blog states…

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Should anyone care to read more or even watch videos, a very nice tribute has been put online and I will share it here… https://slamwrestling.net/index.php/2021/05/02/music-boxing-wrestling-promoter-rob-russen-dies/

Take care of you and yours and remember to be safe, be kind and be well.

For most of us, a schedule is provided for the bulk of our formative years. Essentially you have until high school graduation mapped out. Beyond that, more and more falls on your shoulders.

For the bulk of my 20’s, I wasn’t exactly organized. Spent most of those years working in retail while hoping the rock star thing would pan out. Still spent a lot of time socializing and had a bunch of friends to meet up to play basketball or go surfing or mountain biking or golf or at least something active outside.

All of the sudden I’m 27 and need to start figuring things out on my own. Everyone I know has real jobs and are getting married. The trips to the beach or amusement parks or to the trails together are less and less. Same with the other activities. Guess it’s time to grow up, Peter Pan.

I finally get into an industry that I would like to pursue as a career and have normal work hours. I decide to join a gym. It dawns on me that even though I have always been into keeping fit, I had no idea what to do in my gym. Sure, you pick things up and put them down but in what order? Turns out that I don’t even know how to swim and they have an amazing pool. I mean, I know how to swim but not like that. Who does laps?

Fortunately for me, a friend of mine moves home from California where he spent some time working as a trainer while at USC. He joins the same gym and helps me out with workout plans. I was making notes and trying to keep it straight in my head but then do the unthinkable for me. I buy an organizer. One of those 365 day planner dealies with an address book and everything.

Now I am tracking my workouts on a daily basis. Chest and triceps one day. Back and biceps the next. Legs and shoulders. Add in cardio and core work and so on and so forth. Now I am putting in notes for my job and tasks there, for my bills, for social events… Organization happens.

Much to the contrary to all of this, another friend who joined the gym tells me he’s running a half marathon that upcoming weekend. Despite never running more than 5 miles at once and didn’t even sign up for the race, I run 13.1 miles bandit style finishing in just over 2 hours. Afterwards, my knees are shot and I can’t walk for almost 2 weeks. So much for planning and being thought out.

2 years later and under some delusion that I know what I am doing, I make up some sort of a plan and decide to run that same half marathon with the intention of destroying my previous time. Instead I add an hour to it finishing in the bottom 2% limping the whole second half of the race and the following 2 weeks again.

Time for a new plan.

Another friend who is quick and has done this for real introduces me to Hal Higdon (https://www.halhigdon.com/) after I decide it’s a good idea to run a marathon. I’m glad I have friends. Anyway, Hal breaks out an 18 week plan for novice marathoners. I’m certainly nervous and a bit overwhelmed looking at it but he also gives bits of real life advice along the way as you go week to week.

I do my best to follow the whole thing to the letter but even as Hal points out, life gets in the way from time to time. I should also point out that I went into this saying that I was one and done.

Again, so much for plans sometimes.

I can probably tell you about every step I took of that marathon. Finished it and not too long after had the thought of doing better the next time. Done that pretty much after finishing each race since. I’ve used a variation of Hal Higdon’s plans over a dozen times. Still use them as a base and adapt from there now that I have a better idea what to do.

It’s been well over 20 years since that bandit half marathon and I have learned a whole lot. I learn more while making mistakes and I tend to make plenty of mistakes. I’m not a bright man. But I have picked up on other people’s mistakes now, too.

My hope is that you can perhaps learn from some of my mistakes by not planning early on. I am still chasing faster times in every distance I am able to run. I also still use a daily planner but years back my brother bought me one specifically for running but I keep my day to day in there for my home life, work life and social life as well.

Yes, technology exists and I do use it from time to time. People also use trainers and coaches for work out stuff and others are in a position to perhaps have an assistant for other aspects of life.

I still enjoy a pop up, non-planned event of all sorts from time to time but keeping things mapped out has certainly helped me in innumerable ways.

As this year is half over, I am now mapping out the fall and into winter. I understand that not everyone likes to do this. It can feel suffocating at times but this is why I like a solid foundation and then keep space for some wiggle room. Having the carrot dangling in front of me keeps me moving. Hopefully in the right direction.

Best of luck to all of you. I also know how the best laid plans don’t always make a difference. Sometimes you have to go with what you got and figure it out on the fly. That may end up being a whole other blog post, however.

Cheers!

I have to admit it but I’m not perfect. Also sorry to inform you but you are not, either. Despite what some well intentioned life coach types may try to tell you, we can all do better. This is not to say that you are bad because you have yet to reach some far reaching form of perfection. Just letting you know that there is work to do and there always will be should you not quit.

This overlaps with running in many forms. Your stride, posture, form, nutrition, pacing, etc., etc.. Mainly why I bring this up is because running can also overlap as a metaphor for many aspects of one’s life, as well. Sometimes to the point when the metaphor literally becomes a reality.

This is what I would like to share. I am the type to always point the finger at myself. Whatever it is, it’s my fault. My parents got divorced. My fault. I got divorced. My fault. Something happened at work. My fault. I hear about something bad happening and feel bad that I couldn’t do anything to make it better. I want to fix everything out of some form of guilt that I had something to do with why it was broke in the first place.

Why I am bringing this up is because I am seeing more and more people I know struggling in many forms and for many reasons. These are strange times we’re living in. I won’t go too far into that but there seems to be a cloud over too many people I know and care about. I’m also feeling it so here’s hoping this helps all around.

It was the fall of 2009 and long story short, the 10 year relationship with my ex-wife was falling the rest of the way apart six weeks prior to the Philly Marathon I had been training for. She moves out and now it’s just me and the pup in the house. We had adopted a boxer/lab mix named Brody. For a pretty big dog, he did not enjoy the stressful environment that had been going on.

I still went by my day to day as per usual but was not sleeping or eating and was drinking heavily and running way too hard as I continued to train. Of course, this eventually starts to take a toll. I’m 5’11” and usually weigh about 170 pounds. 2 weeks prior to the race as I notice my belt getting pulled tighter and tighter, I get on the scale and see I’m down to 127 pounds. My run that night after work was in cold and rainy conditions when my hip seizes up and I can’t move my leg. I hop over to a bench nearby and lay back with the chilly water now landing on my face. I eventually get the hip feeling better and can walk a bit and finally am able to run home with my head shaking back and forth as I have a stupid grin on my face knowing how dumb this is.

This was an eye opener but the biggest eye opener happens over the race weekend.

I start to eat better and am taking better care of myself leading up to the race. I have dinner plans with friends the night before it and I asked my neighbors up the street if they would watch Brody for me until after the race. I walk him up to their house and then walk to the restaurant.

Despite everything that had been going on and the stress of running a marathon (only my 4th marathon at the time) I somehow break through with a huge personal best. A 3:17 finish that was 16 minutes faster than my previous best. Didn’t have a soul waiting for me and after having the medal placed around my neck, walked away sobbing for a bit. I gathered myself, took a deep breath, picked my head up and gave myself a little pat on the back as I headed to my car.

Went home to shower and eat real quick before going to get Brody from Frank and John’s house. I knock on their door and Frank looks pissed. Their house was immaculate and automatically feel bad because I think my 105 pound dog destroyed something. I ask what was wrong and Frank explains that Brody would not leave the front door from the moment I dropped him off. He sat looking out the window for me the whole night. Wouldn’t eat or drink. Nothing but staring out waiting for me to return. When he saw I was there, he was shaking and had broken out in hives. I thanked the gentlemen for taking care of him and apologized… because that’s what I do about everything.

When we got back to the house, the poor pup wouldn’t leave my side. I grabbed a blanket and pillow and we curled up on the living room floor. It took a couple of hours for him to stop shaking. I called out of work the next day not because I was beat up from the marathon but because my dog was beat up from watching me beat myself up.

That was it. He and I were going to be happy again. Sure, there is always going to be something that gets to us but the perspective of seeing how much this canine cared about me… You hear about dogs taking on bears or other predators to protect their owners… Well, Brody was protecting me from me.

So what was I running for or from or why was I running myself into the ground or running like a madman and so on and so forth? I got into running to have fun and to get outside and get in shape but then it became a whole other thing that was no longer a healthy outlet. Until it was again thanks to Brody.

Soon after this, I qualified for my first Boston Marathon and then ran that in 2011. Brody and I went everywhere together the last couple of years of his life. Our first trip driving to Colorado together had him sleeping in the passenger seat for the bulk of it until I had to get some sleep in the middle of the night at a rest stop, the kind you see in horror movies, in Nebraska. I put my seat back to close my eyes and Brody sits up and his eyes tell me, “My turn, Dad.” I woke later with him still sitting up keeping an eye out with his huge head in the window.

Point being, we are all going to feel bad for something but keep things in perspective. Are you stealing candy from babies? Are you kicking puppies? If so, you should feel bad. If you are honestly trying to be better and make things better, just keep doing your best. Some days are always going to be better than others.

This was a good day with good friends and a great dog. Miss you, Brody.

So if you are struggling with your running, your job, your relationship, your life in general… Do your best realizing that your best varies from day to day. It’s OK to struggle but don’t let it consume you. Take a deep breath, pick your head up and pat yourself on the back. You may not be perfect, but you are trying to be better.

Hello and thank you for reading. My name is Rodney and I’ve been at this running thing in various forms since I was in 7th grade. Was never very good and it could be argued that I’m still not. As a junior in high school, I just wanted to pole vault but they made me run the 800, too. The 800 is not a good way to keep a kid interested in running.

Honestly, running was the thing I did to catch a frisbee or to attempt a lay up on the basketball court or to get my backhand around on the tennis court and not something I would do to just do unless it was once in a while to remind me how I did not really enjoy running.

Fast forward to my late 20’s and a friend of mine who was a fellow gym rat says he’s running a half marathon that upcoming weekend. I didn’t even know how far that was. He tells me 13.1 miles and this sounds crazy enough to my 28 year old brain that I decide to run it with him despite never running more than maybe 5 miles at once. I show up that morning with him and run the 1998 Philadelphia Distance Run as a bandit. Finished just beyond 2 hours. I couldn’t walk right for a week but had that thought of, “I could do better than that.”

That’s all it took.

Being the genius and superb athlete that I am, I know that if I actually train that I would do way better the next time around. So in September of 2000 I sign up and run that same race. This time it takes me 3 hours and 22 seconds and was 6426th out of 6474 finishers. My knee gave out and I was humbled.

This becomes a running thread throughout my career. *pun intended

Since that first half marathon over 20 years ago, I have experienced much on my own with well over 200 races under my belt in that time including everything from 5ks to 100 miles and even a few Boston Marathons. I have also watched and listened to friends while doing my best to learn from their experiences, too. Highs, lows, peaks, valleys, health and injuries are all a part of this running thing. That goes for someone attempting their first race or someone who is actually sponsored.

With all of this said, I will do what I can to try to help others in some way. That’s the point of this blog. One thing I will try to make a priority is that most of what I will write will be as a suggestion for you to consider. It’s my take that much of running is up to the individual who will be doing the actual running. It may be something to help with your running or perhaps something to help your attitude towards running and beyond.

But as the name of this blog states, Go Run In This. Running takes GRIT and it also makes for a perfect acronym. Of the endless running sayings, one that is apt would be how there is no bad weather to run in and only bad wardrobe selections. Within reason, you can run outside in anything. I have gone out in a hurricane in boardshorts. In a blizzard with ski goggles. 118 degrees in the desert. Ran to the top of a 14er in Colorado and also a 24 hour race in August in Philadelphia in extreme humidity. Dress accordingly, plan accordingly, be smart, be safe and you’ll be fine.

Much more to follow along these lines. I hope you enjoy my ramblings and don’t forget…

Go Run In This.

Thanks for joining me!

Good company in a journey makes the way seem shorter. — Izaak Walton