50 marathons, 50 states, 50 days.

Judging a book by its cover:  This is not a cover or a title that would capture my attention as I wander in a happy haze through my evil mothership Chapters.  The main title 50/50 is vague and uninspired (and why not go the whole way with 50/50/50?) and the subtitle is too long to bother reading in a flyby.  Although the cheesiness of it makes me smile – I too can achieve super-endurance!  There are 37 words and numbers on the cover.  37!  As for the cover art, given the topic I expected something unique and geographic, like a map of his travels.  The lone figure running does little to distinguish this from the many other running books vying for my attention. I bought this book based on a  review, not because it called to me from a bookstore shelf.  The author photo is a similar disappointment.  Indeed, it is not unlike that of John Hanc.  Why must running-writers look like they take themselves way too seriously?  Is this a standard pose for runner-writers?  Should my blog avatar feature a picture of me dressed in my spiffiest running shirt gazing into the camera with a serious smirk?  I can’t do serious smirk, so there goes my book deal.  Dean looks happier in his cover shot than he does in the author portrait.  You can run 50 marathons in 50 days, can’t you muster a glimmer of happiness for your readers?

The premise of the book, in case you missed it in the 37 word/number title, is that Dean runs 50 marathons in 50 states in 50 days.   What do you get when you cross super-genetics with hard training and a heaping of desire?  Dean Karnazes.  In Dean’s words “one thing I truly live for is challenging myself to complete epic tests of endurance that sound totally impossible”.  50/50(/50) seems to meet the criteria.  Eight of the races are live in that they coincide with actual events, including the grand finale at the NYC Marathon.  I bet he didn’t have to catch the 5:30 am ferry to Staten Island.  The other 42 were accurately recreated marathons.  With the cooperation and aid of the race directors, each route follows the exact marathon course and a subset of runners (usually more than one but fewer than 50) registered and ran the recreated race along with Dean.  Some lucky folks even ran a fall edition of the famed Boston Marathon. 

The challenge, dubbed The Northface Endurance 50, in honour of the sponsor and banker behind the 1.2 million dollar price tag, is another feather in the cap of this “ultramarathon man“.   Only an athlete backed by big business could pull off this elaborate stunt.  Some in the ultramarathon community seem to scorn Dean and his corporate ways, but I say if someone wants to hand me a big check to run on a treadmill for 24 hours over Times Square where do I sign up?  I’m jealous that he can make a living as an ultrarunner.  It is my secret hope that I have yet to discover an unknown talent for running 100 milers.  I may never run one for fear of shattering my last (delusional) chance at running fame.

The book is a mix of race reports from the each of the 50 races, tidbits from other crazy races, and his own running advice.   For the numbers geeks (me, me!), he provides stats for every race, including weather, elevation, time, and net calories burned (although it isn’t clear what he means by “net”: net as in total calories burned minus calories consumed or net as in extra calories burned beyond what he would have burned sitting on his sofa or if he just means total calories burned).  The first time through I found myself skipping the advice boxes to keep momentum with the main story.  Some running books I read for tips to expand my running knowledge and some I read for a glimpse at the running experiences of others – this book I lumped in the latter category.  That was an oversight on my part.  On subsequent readings I left the main text and explored the supplementary tip boxes and I was pleasantly surprised.  He offers a lot of common advice in easy to digest bite-sized doses, but he also includes some tips of his own that have helped him through his many adventures.  He also sparked a little challenge idea of my own for the winter, but I’ll save that for another day.

The best - the honesty.  At first I was a little annoyed (fine, jealous) that every race was all sunshine and lollipops, but as the days wore on even the ultramarathon man made dumb mistakes and unravelled a little.  I don’t take pleasure in the pain of others, I was just pleased in the normalcy of his roller-coaster ride through 50/50 (albeit a kiddie coaster in his case) – if only to validate my own experiences.  Constant travel, little sleep, 42.2K a day, plus endless media engagements – one would be crazy not to lose it a little.  I was even a wee bit pleased to see that he wasn’t above The Angry Run, as he risked life and limb hurling himself along a much-hated trail marathon.  For the most part though he admirably took each challenge in stride.  The kind of optimism needed to run crazy tests of endurance shined through and rather than the cockiness others see, his stories to me spoke of his passion for running.  It was hard not to be inspired and I’m a cynical gal.  His experiences, in the Endurance 50 and in other races described in the book, put my little trials and tribulations in perspective.  It was a much needed reminder that sometimes I just need to suck it up and endure. 

The worst - your race list will explode.  Every race sounds appealing, even the unappealing ones.  This guy could sell me on Antarctica.  He even includes a helpful ‘best of’ race guide, which features two Canadian shout outs: Around the Bay 30K and Royal Victoria Marathon.  Oh, and you may feel like a bit of a slacker.  A day off per mile raced, not for this guy.  Suddenly my two marathons in eight days sounds downright normal.  Easy.  Pedestrian.  I’m now wondering why I opted out of three in 15 days.

The craziest - The man runs 50 in 50 (in 50)  and then runs across country home, Forrest Gump style.  Hidden in the little epilogue at the end, the kind of thing less obsessive readers might forgo, he slips in that he ran mileage equivalent to the 50/50(/50) challenge, in the middle of winter, sleeping on park benches and accepting meals from strangers, from NYC back home to San Fransisco.  That may have crossed the sanity line. 

p.s. Did anyone else think his support crew’s 50/50 side challenge was about more than just phone numbers – or should I say “phone numbers”?

RunShorts Review: 4 out of 5 sneakers.