Tag Archives: books

Forget oreos, eat Cool J cookies

Posted on December 15, 2010 | 5 Comments

I have written at length about my lack of willpower when it comes to cookies.  I’ve even shared the recipe for my Not-At-All Famous Runner’s Cookie.  Tonight I ate four chocolate covered cookies following The Hill Thrill.  Then I ate The Little Honey Bee’s sweets for dinner.  Again.  I also ate four clementines to balance the scale.  It’s a good thing I don’t run to lose weight.

My latest cookie discovery, straight from the pages of The Athlete’s Palate, is almost as good as my Not-At-All Famous Cookies.  And by “almost” I mean a million times better. 

The  book is filled with mouth-watering recipe creations for training and recovery, all developed by chef-athletes.  Of course I’ve ignored most of the recipes in favour of the treats.  I started with Bridget Batson’s Quinoa Cookies.  They are categorized as breakfast cookies.  That’s right, cookies are a breakfast food.  Told you so Mom and Dad. 

I would post the recipe but I don’t want to get in a copyright war with Runner’s World.  I would share the cookies but I ate them all.  In two days.    

p.s. For the first month I owned this book I totally thought that was a guy on the cover.

Title: LL Cool J – I’m Bad.  1987.

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Spendin’ all our money on brand new novels

Posted on November 7, 2010 | 9 Comments

My small urban dwelling = book buying ban has failed.  On the successful side, I am an avid library user.  I have found things in books that have very nearly turned me off of reading, but I continue to borrow and liberally disinfect my hands every ten pages.  On the failure side, I am highly susceptible to running book buying, especially when I’m at a race expo with the authors ready and willing to sign their latest literary masterpiece.  I just ordered The Athlete’s Palate.  I must be stopped.  [This is when you tell me I need not be stopped]. 

Title: Moxy Fruvous – My Baby Loves a Bunch of Authors.  1993.

p.s. You’ve probably never heard the title song, so enjoy:

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Ultramarathon Man

Posted on July 16, 2010 | Leave a comment

Available at amazon.ca

Who is the Utramarathon Man?  Dean “Karno” Karnazes.  I’m not one to shy away from controversy.  So let’s start with the cover.  The bookstand lure.  If I wasn’t supposed to judge a book by its cover it wouldn’t be a saying.  That’s why I firmly believe that a penny saved is a penny earned.  Given that this is another cover with the author running there is little to say that I haven’t already said except ho-hum.  With his reputation I’m surprised he isn’t shirtless.  Ahh, he saved that for the back cover.  If I had those abs I’d never wear a shirt.  I’d also be jobless.  Or I’d have a very different sort of job.  The photo is a little more intense than some of the other lone wolf cover photos and up close it looks like the sun may be in his eyes.  I am worried about sun furrow lines, but Dean is not.  The author photo is a family photo which is a sweet choice.  I won’t critique his family.  See, I do have a line.  

If you recall, I quite liked his more recent book 50/50 and many avid running readers told me that this one was the better of the two, so I was anxious to get reading.  I borrowed this book from a friend and didn’t want to dog-ear my favourite sections (friend: those dog-eared pages are not mine, I promise … also, facebook says I’ve been ignoring you even though we see each other 3 times a week) so I can’t refer back to my favourite parts because I can’t remember where they are located.   

I absolutely adored the chapter titles and quotes, a nice selection of old standbys with enough excellent new (to me) quotes among them to pull out during a tough run and remind myself how awesome I am.  Dean has been blasted quite a bit for having an ultra-ego, but I didn’t really get that vibe from the book.  Confident yes, but not annoyingly cocky.  He does like to emphasize how hard he trains and spends a lot of time linking his success to his ability work hard.  I’m not disputing the hard work (of which he does an obsessive amount), however I don’t think he’s giving his ancestral gene pool enough credit when he says that he’s an ultramarathon man based on hard work alone, and that he has no natural talents.  Given his competitive success at other sports and his ability to recovery from ridiculous physical efforts his should pat himself on the back for hard work and dedication and give some thanks for the superhuman athletic body he inherited.  I suspect he’s annoying great at all sports.  Not that I’m jealous.  When physiology meets psychology, in other words, you get an ultramarathon man.   

This book describes the early running life of Dean.  Before the bigtime sponsorships and stunt runs in Times Square.  Before he was the most controversial man in distance running.  When he had a full-time job and ran all night to get in his miles so he didn’t neglected his wife and two kids.  Before all the fame he ran a bit in high school and then stopped for a long time.  And then he turned 30, flirted with a woman who was not his wife, and ran from the guilt all night.  He covered 30 miles (48 km) after 15 years of non-running (but doing lots and lots of other stuff).   He can’t credit that feat with good training.  Insanity maybe.  Then he started running more regularly, ordered a pizza on the run and had it delivered to a street corner, and now he’s famous, as famous as a runner can be in a nation ruled by non-running sports.  

So started his adult running career and the stories from his early training runs and races form the basis of the book.  He covers a few seminal races in-depth and you might think it would be boring to read multiple chapters on the same race, but you would be wrong.  I was riveted as I read about his first Western States 100 Miler, which as far as can tell involves running up and down a series of mountains in oppressive heat, and he went blind at the moment my subway ride ended and I had to wait 8.5 hours to find out what happened.  Oh yes, if you run 100 miles you might go blind.  You might quit running when you realize you went blind.  If so, you might not be Dean.  At some point, I can’t remember during which race, the man crawled on his hands and knees because he couldn’t walk.  At that point?  I call it a day.  I might not be Dean.  He also writes about Badwater (a race he eventually wins), a crazy once in a lifetime race to the South Pole (literally, it ended at that iconic barbershop pole), a 200 mile relay race solo, and other equally inspiring and increasingly difficult races.   The size of his legs after that 200 mile expedition actually made me grimace.  He said it took him months to fully recover.  And so it goes, one crazy run after another.  Some races ended in success, some did not, and I’m not about to tell.  

Runshort’s Rating: 4.25/5 shoes.  My conclusion – it is better than 50/50. Approximately .25 shoes better.

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(Not the) Lore of Running

Posted on June 30, 2010 | 2 Comments

Available at amazon.ca

This isn’t a book review.  Not yet.  I’m not prepared for that much controversy before a much-needed long weekend’s rest.  In all honesty I may never get to the review because this tome is so heavy I can only read it for 30 seconds at a time.  If I had a scale I’d verify, but my wildly exaggerated guess is five pounds.  My paper-thin arms get tired blow-drying my hair.  I still do girl –I mean “modified”– pushups and I struggle after (embarrassingly low number).  I certainly can’t stand on a bumpy subway and read LOR.  Almost 1000 pages in 30 second intervals and I will be reading this book for years.  Perhaps I’ll get stronger as a I read, working my way up to a solid minute and (more than embarrassingly low number) girl pushups before the year ends.

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The Extra Mile

Posted on June 10, 2010 | 13 Comments

Available at amazon.ca

Months ago my friend over at Toronto Workout loaned me The Extra Mile by Pam Reed.  I read it almost immediately, then promptly forgot to return it.  So I read it again.  And I still haven’t returned it.  It’s the sort of book I usually like.  But I didn’t.  Before I get into all that, let’s start where I always start.  Judging a book by the cover.  It looks like most autobiographical running books – the lone wolf running alone along impressive terrain, in this case (I think) the infamous Badwater Ultramarathon course.   I read the softcover version, so there is no author photo to critique.  I’m sure Pam Reed is appropriately thankful.     

The book is filled with a long list of impressive race finishes and wins.  Pam Reed is an accomplished ultramarathoner, of that there is no doubt.   I just wasn’t as inspired by the stories behind those successes – and failures – as I am apt to be.  For the record, I’m apt to be easily inspired.  The book jacket speaks of the “astonishing candor” in Reed’s telling of her running career, family upheaval, and battle with anorexia.  She was open, surprisingly so, and revealed intimate details about affairs and institutionalisations.  So you can understand why it surprises me that I wasn’t moved by her story.     

The  book is not very well written (and I hesitate to criticise the writing of others when my own could easily be attacked … although unlike Reed I’m not getting paid to put pen to paper or fingers to keyboard) and contained a lot of filler material.  And by a lot I mean too much.  Not a page turner, in other words.  That alone is not enough to turn me off.  In my entire life I have only failed to finish reading one book.  I will read anything.  I read the placements in a high-class restaurant.  I read the inflight magazine.

Much of the book can be summed up by calling on Shakespeare’s famous line, which I’m likely to misquote,  ”thou dost protest too much”.   The endless claims of excessive happiness that had a contrary angry edge to them.  The denials of a Dean Karnazes feud that failed to disguise a green-eyed monster.  The bizarre justifications for marital infidelity.  The troubling Tom Cruise style psychology in self diagnosing and treating a very serious disorder and pages filled with unusual views on the topic that, without a medical disclaimer, could be very harmful to the wrong reader.   There is a lot of ego, but I’m okay with ego.  She’s a great runner.  Her ego isn’t misguided.  And if I didn’t know she was a great runner before reading the book I certainly do now.  I hate to say it, but I found Reed to be rather unlikable and it is really trying to read a poorly written book about an unlikeable protagonist.    

The only most interesting parts of the book are the race descriptions.  When she writes about the races and running the book picks up pace and the choppy writing becomes a bit more fluid.  The defensive tone still permeates, but at least there is spirit.  She has run some seriously cool races.  She has won some seriously cool races.  Do I need to know her weight at each race?  No.  Do I want to hear more about life as a crew member for Badwater?  Yes.  Pam is obsessed with weight and food and mistakenly thinks her readers will be impressed by her unique ability to starve and call it good ultramarathon training.  Less on the (shockingly low) number of calories you eat before every run and more about the run and the book would increase by a shoe on my (not at all) scientific scale. 

Runshort’s Rating: 1.5/5 shoes.

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See Dane Run

Posted on June 9, 2010 | 8 Comments

I briefly met Dane at one of those race expo author signings (Marine Corps, I think).  And by met I mean I bought his book (See Dane Run by Dane Rauschenberg: check out his blog) and he signed it for me.  He wrote: Chase your dreams.  You will catch them.  Even though he wrote that to everyone, I thought it was sweet.  I’m very susceptible to sweet during race weekend.  And he was very kind, posing for an author photo with me for my stalker collection.  I think he even asked me to send him a copy, but I forgot until just now.  I’m sure he’s still forgotten.  Prior to stumbling across his kiosk at the expo I had never heard of Dane, his challenge, or his book.  But I was intrigued.  I had recently read Dean’s book, 50/50 (read my review), which was 50 marathons in 50 states in 50 days.  However, only a handful of those were real-time marathons, i.e. held during an official marathon event.  The rest were re-enactments.  Dane ran 52 certified marathons, one every weekend for a year.  The travel alone would kill me.

I’ll begin where I always begin, by judging a book by its cover.  As always, we see the author, alone, mid-run.  This time atop a globe – which is a little misleading given that only three of his races were outside the US, two and a half (yes, just half) of those were in neighbouring Canada, and the third in the Cayman Islands.  Hardly the worldly runner the cover presents.  But it is a small twist on the lone runner on a road motif that seems to dominate running autobiography covers.  My softcover has no separate author photo, but the back cover shows a finish line Dane pointing at the heavens and the book is filled with those look-at-my-bicep finish line poses that some runners seem to enjoy.  I would look ridiculous if I tried.  Instead I opt for a not-so-horrifying-I-run-to-the-nearest-plastic-surgeon pose.  It seldom works.

Dane is a guy’s guy.  This may be a book for a guy’s guy.  He runs in a singlet emblazoned with his college name and teases other runner’s about the athletic prowess of his school’s football team.  He wanted to be a college football player.  He likes to playfully smack talk other runners (although, I think it is playful but serious).  This guy is definitely a competitor.  Every race recap recounted the number of people he passed in the last few kilometres, his final placing, his time and the excuses for his time (I needed to save myself for more being the most common one.  It’s a good one).   This is a guy who keep score.  Not someone, in other words, to whom I can easily relate.  Although I do make an effort to pass all costumed runners and shirtless men.  And my birthday wish was for a more competitive edge.  Which I just ruined by sharing.  DAMN those complicated wish rules.

As for the book, I loved the challenge.  I didn’t love that he called it “Fiddy2″.  Like the finish line arm guns, I just can’t get away with the “Fiddy2″ slang.  I sound weird when I say it.   Maybe it was catchy marketing ploy,  but my inner school teacher cringed every time I read it.  Which was about a million times. 

The very first paragraph of the book mentioned The Clock.  Time is theme throughout, as the weeks pile on and Dane’s time goals shift.  In an unexpected direction.  In sentence two he reminds us that other sports have a clock that shows you that time escaping, running has one that counts up, piling onto a total that starts at zero.  You do not lose time in a race; rather, you gain it.  And you hope, when all is said and done, that you have gained as little as possible.  Thank you for the reminder.  As if that taunting little man on my GPS isn’t reminder enough.

Before Dane started this 52 Marathon quest he had run only six marathons.  Six!  His first in 4.15 and his fastest in 3.09.   People thought he was crazy.  Sure he could run, but six is a long way from fifty-two.  I mean Fiddy2.  A long, long way.  Never underestimate the potential of a stubborn determined athlete with good recovery genetics.  I like that he provided a race recap for every race he ran.  That said, the recaps did get rather repetitive after a while.   Travel snafus, weather, shower taps, jockeying for position with other runners.  His highs and lows are relatable.  He is honest about happy but disappointing finishes even the time is decent.  He grumbles about race etiquette (read: four abreast runners blocking the path for faster racers).  He laments moving into a more competitive age category (from under 30 to the winning 30-35 group).  He appreciates a course with consistent water tables and an elevation map that is a reasonable approximation of the route.  Like the rest of us, he lies about going slow in a race.  We don’t mean to lie, but we do.  Totally relatable. 

He gets faster as the year goes on.  That right, faster.  Defying all logic he gets stronger, running three of his four fastest at the end of the year.   One of the most interesting parts of the book was reading to see just how fast he would get.  I won’t ruin it for you.  Watch for 52 Marathons to Boston, coming soon to a bookstore near you.

I loved that the book contained detailed, albeit somewhat repetitive, race reports; but what the book missed was the personal story.  Often I find running books too heavily tipped towards the non-running details, but this book is a rare reversal.  How did this challenge impact his job, his bank account, his love life?  He seemed to flirt a lot on course, but did he have a girlfriend during this year-long challenge?  Did he have a girlfriend by the end of it?  What does he do to make money?   How many vacation days did he use?  What type of training did he do between races?  Did he do anything other than run?  What did his coworkers think of his quest?  His family?  Did he ever what to quit?  How much money did he raise for the charity he mentioned on every page?  How much money did this challenge cost (he wasn’t a sponsored runner)?  I’m left with so many questions.  Sure I know the Leadville elevation and that he ran two Leadville’s that day (his first and his last, ha), but I’m left wanting more.  I just read an autobiographical book and I know very little about the biographer.  Maybe the facts would be enough for the guy’s guy.  The facts are not enough for this running reader.

Sidebar: I would be remiss to ignore his Canadian side-trips.  Northern hospitality met his expectations and the race reviews were very positive.  At one point he boldly claimed “Canada Loves Dane”.  Given our limited interaction I can not verify that statement.  Marathon #19 was in Mississauga and his experience with the fierce Lake Ontario wind mirrored by own, even though we were separated by one year.  Weirdly, in response to his own confusion over the lack of mile markers (which, really, this is a surprise?), he decides that mid race is an appropriate place to make stale language jokes and seems confused when no one gets his “humour”.  Erm, that’s a pet peeve slipping through.  In the fall he travelled north to run #29, the Nova Scotia Marathon, amid a tropical storm (don’t Blame Canada) and placed third overall.  There were only three runners.  Just kidding.  His third trip north of the border for #42 was during the marathon.  Actually during the marathon.  That’s why it only counts as a half.  This one is on my to-do-list: The Niagara Falls Marathon, a  two country border-crossing race.  It is also a notable race in Fiddy2 for reasons that require a spoiler alert.  So I’ll keep quiet.

Runshort’s Rating: 3/5 shoes.

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A Walk in the Woods

Posted on June 2, 2010 | 9 Comments

Available at amazon.ca

I read this book at least twice a year.  My copy is dog-eared and tattered with 43 pages bookmarked so I can reread my favourite passages.  I think it appeals to my secret desire to run the Bruce Trail end to end.  Not as a thru-run (not the first time), but in sections.  It’s only 800K (500 miles).  Compared to the Appalachian Trail that’s a stroll. 

The cover?  Amazing.  The woods.  A bear.  Sold!  The title?  Perfect.  The author photo?  Missing.  And seriously, I really need to know what Bill Bryson looks like so I googled him.  Totally not what I was expecting.  At all. 

My review may be biased.  Did I mentioned I adore this book?  Did I mention I adore all his books?  Yes, even Troublesome Words.  Which I actually read cover to cover.  It’s unfortunate that most of the words still trouble me.   A Walk in the Woods is not a book about running, but you probably already figured that out.  But the book does have the spirit of running and there are a few paragraphs devoted to the lunatics ultramarathoners who run The Trail end to end as fast as possible even though there is no officially recorded record to beat.  Plus I’m determined to start trail running this year and this book inspired me to finally sign up for a 5 Peaks Trail Running race.  The author reveals an obsession with animal attack (if you recall, I am very appetizing), unlikely illness (if you recall, I contract Marathonia twice a year), and murder (if you recall, it is just a matter of time before I find a dead body) that parallels my own, as he educates his readers on the many perils of hiking.  And there are many, many fascinating perils.  Few runners will fail to relate to a witty, but reluctant adventurer writing about a long slog through tough terrain. 

The trail is somewhere between 2100 and 2200 miles (3360 and 3520 kilometres) and as of the book publication date about 4000 folks have hiked it end to end.  The thru-hikers complete the feat in a single season, hiking end to end, and the section-hikers tackle the trail bit by bit, stretching completion over months, years, or decades (the record is 46 years).  Over several weeks of section hiking Bryson completed 870 miles (1392 kilometres, or about 40%). 

Interesting factoid stolen from chapter 11: every twenty minutes on the trail Bryson walked more than the average American (and, presumably, Canadian) walks in a week.  The average is 1.4 miles (2.25 kilometres) a week.  This number counts trips from the car to the store/office/hospital and around the store/office/cardiac ward.  This astounds me.  Due to factors largely outside my control, I recently reduced my weekly walking mileage of 30 kilometres to about 15 kilometres and I notice a definite difference in my mood and fitness.  A negative difference.  In that I’m gloomier and fatter.  I do not understand car culture, but admittedly I don’t live in the suburbs.  And I never will.  And when I give in someday and move my 1.4 kids to a big house with storage you can drudge up this post and wave it in my gloomy fat face.  Did I mention I detest all forms of transportation that do not involve self propulsion?   

The Appalachian Trail conference doesn’t recognize speed records, but runners are keenly interested in time.   According to the book, “in May 1999, an ultrarunner named David Horton and an endurance hiker named Scott Grierson set off within two days of each other.  Horton had a network of support crews waiting at road crossings and other strategic points and so needed to carry nothing but a bottle of water.  Each evening he was taken by car to a hotel or private home.  He averaged 38.3 miles per day, with ten or eleven hours of running.  Grierson, meanwhile, merely walked, but he did so for as much as eighteen hours a day“.  The winner came in at fifty two days, nine hours.  I won’t tell you who won. 

Runshort’s Rating: 4/5 shoes.

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Heartbreak Hill

Posted on May 19, 2010 | Leave a comment
Available at amazon.ca

Heartbreak Hill by Tom Lonergan is a cheesy murder mystery.  With extra cheese.  Easy to read (and somewhat predictable) the stops quickly pass while reading this subway-ride page turner.  This is a book to be read with the appropriate expectations. 

The cover is … awesome.  Requisite running legs blurring into the evil eyes, all in black and white, and punctuated with triple fonts to make you afraid, very afraid.   This is another softcover, so there is no author photo to critique; however, there is an impressive blurb about the author running the Boston Marathon, his hometown race, 17 times.  Okay, he has cred.

Lonergan brings us homicide detective Quinn, the beguiling singer Raven who just happens to be the race’s first ever celebrity runner (yet later in the book there are reports of 17 celebrities running, but remember, lower your expectations), a race director who explodes in his detonating Glowerman shoes originally made with his wife’s waffle iron (love it), a troublesome ex-wife FBI agent, and a killer madman targeting fifteen thousand runners and 2.3 million spectators.  With the cast in place all you need are a few foggy evening attacks (check), totally unrealistic sexual encounters (check), and at least one falling out and subsequent reunion with a friend/flame/ex-wife (check, check, and check).    

Perhaps my favourite paragraph in the book:  Quinn looked down from the top floor of the Four Seasons as Raven ran in the morning gloom.  She was dressed in steely lycra.  She carried a yellow Discman and wore black high-top cross-trainers.  This book was written in 2002.  Raven, for some reason, was running in 1984.  I’m not entirely sure when Tom Lonergan ran those 17 Bostons but my money is on “before I was born”.

The book is not a literary masterpiece and fans of the murder-mystery genre will be disappointed in the predicatable plotline, but fans of the running genre looking for a fun long weekend read with the Boston Marathon and exploding Nike knock-offs as a backdrop might enjoy this book.  In fact, you may be pleasantly surprised.  I enjoyed it.  But I also enjoy Ghostwhisperer.  Don’t judge.  Or throw stones at glass houses.  Or something like that. 

Runshort’s Review: 2.5/5 sneakers.

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Once a Runner

Posted on May 4, 2010 | 14 Comments

Once a Runner: photo credit amazon.ca

 I finally read It.  Once a Runner.  The cult classic and top spot on various best running book of all times lists.  A cult classic in part because it was published in limited supply in 1978 and, until recently, was damn hard/impossible to buy if you didn’t wish to spends hundreds of dollars on eBay.  The book was re-released in 2009 and a running mate gave a copy to Husband.  This running mate, always quick, has suddenly found his warp speed and can be found burning up the roads this spring, leaving me to follow in his dusty footprints.  I think The Secret is in The Book.  Although The Book says there is No Secret.  Maybe that is The Secret.  I should ask Oprah.   

As you know from past reviews, I always judge a book by its cover.  Pictured left is the original cover featuring a 1970s time warp runner (maybe Quentin Cassidy, the protagonist, maybe John Jr., the author, but likely some random running dude) and a nice simple title with the handy subtitle disclaimer, a novel.  So you don’t mistake this for a book, magazine, brochure, or scroll.  It is a novel.  I love the 1978 cover.  The 2009 cover is nice.  Almost too nice.  A silhouetted man running along the beach at sunset.  But it lacks the raw appeal of the 1970s cover and the lean wolf runner.  “It’s the lean wolf that leads the pack, baby“.  The author photo is generic and blessedly free of the cheesiness that most runners who write books seem to prefer.  The most notable element is the giant watch on his wrist.  A  regular Timex is my guess, but I’ll be more impressed if it’s a 1980 Casio Calculator watch.  

As for the book, I loved it.  And not because I’m supposed to love it because it is a classic.  And not because it passed the time on my long I-wish-I-could-still-walk-to-work subway ride.  J. Jr. won me over in the first sentence with the night joggers.  I bookmarked at least 30 pages so I can reread the passages; a sure sign of a winning novel on the overflowing Runshorts bookshelf.  I don’t often read fiction about running.  This novel read like it was biographical.  The author obviously is a runner.  He captures it all, down to those annoying hecklers who shout out lame insults as you speed by.  I may need to read Chapter 17 before every race.  I think I’ve found a new motto.  Run through it.  If you read only one chapter, pick this one.  I read this book unspoiled, so the little twist was a big surprise.  I won’t spoil it for you.  Just read it.  And if you have a copy of the sequel, can I borrow it? 

Runshort’s Rating: 4.5/5.

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Tippity tippity tap of happy feet

Posted on March 26, 2010 | 1 Comment

Dr. Seuss’ The Foot Book.   Because it’s Friday. 

Title Reference: Dean Martin – Happy Feet.

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Oh, the places you’ll go … running.

Posted on November 17, 2009 | 5 Comments

Although I loved Sesame Street with every muscle in my kid-sized heart nothing matched my love for Dr. Seuss.  Except maybe my love for his alter-alter-identity Theo LeSieg.   My attachment to Dr. Seuss is so strong not even the Carrey/Meyers calibre of overacting can destroy it.  

A popular graduation gift, Dr. Seuss’ Oh The Places You’ll Go has convinced a new generation of fresh-faced youth that they will find Success.  In the fine academic tradition of plagiarizing, my 8th grade valedictory address would have been so much easier to “write” had this book been available.  I’m still looking for the elusive Success, despite bidding farewell to fresh-faced several years ago.  While I look for my place to go (quiet in the peanut gallery), I’ve abridged the story to make it about –you guessed it– running.  If you read the tale with a running mindset you’ll begin to wonder how many marathons Dr. Seuss boasted in his lifetime.  I don’t know the answer but I do know that googling “Dr. Seuss + marathon” yields results in which the word marathon applies to reading a lot, not running a long way. 

Oh the places you’ll go!

Today is your day.
You’re off to Great Places!
You’re off and away!

You have brains in your head.
You have feet in your shoes.
You can steer yourself
any direction you choose.
You’re on your own.  And you know what you know.
And YOU are the guy who’ll decide where to go.

You’ll look up and down streets.  Look ‘em over with care.
About some you will say, “I don’t choose to go there.”
With your head full of brains and your shoes full of feet,
you’re too smart to go down any not-so-good street.

And you may not find any
you’ll want to go down.
In that case, of course,
you’ll head straight out of town.

It’s opener there
in the wide open air.

Out there things can happen
and frequently do
to people as brainy
and footsy as you.

And when things start to happen,
don’t worry.  Don’t stew.
Just go right along.
You’ll start happening too.

You won’t lag behind, because you’ll have the speed.
You’ll pass the whole gang and you’ll soon take the lead.
Wherever you fly, you’ll be the best of the best.
Wherever you go, you will top all the rest.

Except when you don’ t.
Because, sometimes, you won’t.

I’m sorry to say so
but, sadly, it’s true
that Bang-ups
and Hang-ups
can happen to you.

And when you’re in a Slump,
you’re not in for much fun.
Un-slumping yourself
is not easily done.

You will come to a place where the streets are not marked.
Some windows are lighted.  But mostly they’re darked.
A place you could sprain both you elbow and chin!
Do you dare to stay out?  Do you dare to go in?
How much can you lose?  How much can you win?

And IF you go in, should you turn left or right…
or right-and-three-quarters?  Or, maybe, not quite?
Or go around back and sneak in from behind?
Simple it’s not, I’m afraid you will find,
for a mind-maker-upper to make up his mind.

You can get so confused
that you’ll start in to race
down long wiggled roads at a break-necking pace
and grind on for miles across weirdish wild space,
headed, I fear, toward a most useless place.
The Waiting Place…for people just waiting.

Somehow you’ll escape
all that waiting and staying.
You’ll find the bright places
where Boom Bands are playing.

Oh, the places you’ll go!  There is fun to be done!
There are points to be scored.  There are games to be won.
And the magical things you can do with that ball
will make you the winning-est winner of all.
Fame!  You’ll be famous as famous can be,
with the whole wide world watching you win on TV.

Except when they don’t.
Because, sometimes, they won’t.

I’m afraid that some times
you’ll play lonely games too.
Games you can’t win
’cause you’ll play against you.

All Alone!
Whether you like it or not,
Alone will be something
you’ll be quite a lot.

And when you’re alone, there’s a very good chance
you’ll meet things that scare you right out of your pants.
There are some, down the road between hither and yon,
that can scare you so much you won’t want to go on.

But on you will go
though the weather be foul
On you will go
though your enemies prowl
On you will go
though the Hakken-Kraks howl
Onward up many
a frightening creek,
though your arms may get sore
and your sneakers may leak.

You’ll get mixed up, of course,
as you already know.
You’ll get mixed up
with many strange birds as you go.
So be sure when you step.
Step with care and great tact
and remember that Life’s
a Great Balancing Act.
Just never forget to be dexterous and deft.
And never mix up your right foot with your left.

And will you succeed?
Yes! You will, indeed!
(98 and 3/4 percent guaranteed.)

You’re off to Great Places!
Today is your day!
Your mountain is waiting.
So…get on your way!

Title Reference:  Dr. Seuss – Oh, The Places You’ll Go!  Random House.  1990.

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My first 100 marathons

Posted on September 20, 2009 | 4 Comments

My First 100 Marathons Book Cover

No, not my first 100 marathons.  Jeff Horowitz’s first 100 marathons.  I’m just aiming for my age and number of marathons to be one and the same someday.  I expect this won’t happen until I’m in my 50s (which is my parents’ age, yowzers!).

Judging a book by its cover:  I love the title.  I especially love that he says my FIRST 100 marathons, as though another 100 are inevitable.  I adore, yes adore, the subtitle.  Any title with the word obsessive will always lure me and my OCD tendencies in.  The scribbly title font could be a bit easier to read (different font or different font/background colour combo), but I should reign in my inclination towards pickiness.  The promo by Grete Waitz is a bit cluttered.  I prefer endorsements to stay on the back cover where they belong.  I’ll make up my own mind without help from anyone, even my idol Grete Waitz, thankyouverymuch.  The cover art is rather generic.  Approximately 80% (I made that up) of all running books show legs running (90% of the time male – I made that up too, but I reckon it’s true) on the cover.  Yawn.  The author pic was a pleasant surprise.  Finally, a man willing to smile for the camera (make note Karnazas and Hanc).  He appears to be standing on top of a Mayan Ruin casually posed against a rock with an across-the-face grin.  Athletic, but not cocky.  Good choice.

The book is a fun mix of race stories, with coverage of the 100 biased towards big US races and far flung destinations.  He writes about the sorts of things I write about and in a similar writing style, so I was rather drawn in by his many tales and tangents (and obvious skill at turning a phrase).  One of his most entertaining stories involves a port-a-loo the day after the race.  You know I love a good port-a-loo story.  I won’t spoil the ending. 

Canadian fans will be disappointed to note that of the few northern races in his lengthy list – #70 (Toronto 2002), #87 (Vancouver 2004), #88 (Calgary 2004), and #98 (Vancouver 2005) – only Calgary and The Stampede, noted for its signature belt buckle medal, warranted a two line mention in the book.  He does, however, seem to recap every Marine Corps Marathon (six by my count) in excruciating detail.  I get that Marine Corps was his First Time Ever and it is the close-to-his-heart hometown race, but enough already.  I’m running the MCM for the first time in six weeks and it was even too much for me and my pre-race fixations.

Throughout the book he also tries to answer what I think is an unanswearable question, “why run the marathon’?  I don’t know, why read, knit, or bake?  “Because I like to” seldom satisfies when I’m attacked with the same question.  He, fortunately, takes you on much more thoughtful four-lap journey detailing his many reasons for running. 

The time delay between his 1st and 100th marathon was 18 years.  In total he spent about 385 hours running marathons and “he wouldn’t trade a single minute of this racing life, whether [he] remembered each of them or not”.  That is an average of 5.5 marathons per year.  At a modest two per year it would take me 50 years to match his 18 year achievement.  Realistically, two per year may not be consistently sustainable (I hope so, but one never knows) and I doubt that I can squeeze in a 100 before I’m a century old (centurion?).  By then I’ll be eligible for the senior’s discount at the movies, but theatres are filled with young whippersnappers so I’ll just wait for movie night at the old folks’ home.  Harumph. 

His last marathon was the fitting Grandfather Mountain Marathon, a gruelling 26.2 mile course.  “It was a race that was guaranteed to plumb every runner’s well of courage and resolve.  But to those who made it to the top came bragging rights, and the sense of accomplishment that only comes from facing a dragon and staring it down”.  That sounds … awesome.  I think there’s something wrong with me.  But seriously, I would pick something similarly arduous for my final feat – an easy course would be anti-climatic.  None of that lovey-dovey Disney business for me, my 100th will be a MARATHON, all caps.

Now I’m being picky again, but one of his one hundred races was run under the bib of another runner, so technically there is no official record of his running the race.  Just as he wouldn’t count a 42.2K training run as an official marathon and just as he didn’t include ultramarathons in his total, my inner stickler puts his count at 99.  Still impressive.  I’d also be apt to keep a second tally of my first 100 different races, as many in his count are repeats.  Now you see why I’m drawn to titles with the word obsessive. 

So what does a member of the 100 club do for an encore?  He completes his list of 50 states, 10 Canadian provinces (don’t forget the three territories), and aims to run on all seven continents, of course.  By his own words, he is already planning his next 100.

Runshort’s Review: 4/5 sneakers.

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50 marathons, 50 states, 50 days.

Posted on September 8, 2009 | 4 Comments

50-50Judging 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.

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The coolest race on earth

Posted on September 1, 2009 | 11 Comments
The coolest race on earth
Judging a book by its cover:  I am a marketer’s dream, readily lured in by a catchy title and nifty cover art.  The Coolest Race on Earth sports both an enticing title and inspiring cover picture, so sold!  The author photo, however, leaves much to be desired.  There is something strangely off-putting about the portrait.  It took me some time to come up with a word that describes best my impression of John Hanc (or, to be more accurate, John Hanc’s author photo).  To do so I had to travel deep into the memory vaults, stopping in 10th grade to emerge with this little gem: poser.  He is presenting an image that I think he thinks he needs to present as a serious athlete.   I think he should try harder to at least pretend to like any one of running, writing, or Antarctica.  A little advice – lose the shades, the machismo top, and think about smiling.  Husband suggests that he may be “smiling with his eyes” Tyra style behind those reflective lenses, but I think he’s trying hard to look superfly. 

 

At current count I have read The Coolest Race three times.  That alone speaks to my enjoyment of the novel.  Books I dislike I seldom read more than twice.  Hanc promises a book that is “partly a memoir and partly a history of events both recent and distant” and he lives up to that billing.  Indeed, the report of his own Antarctic Marathon run arrives late in the story and consumes just 20 or so (pp 141-162) of the 216 pages.  That was a wise editorial decision.  While I admire the author’s recognition that he has difficulty leaving the seriousness out of what should be a race for experience and not time, I was often appalled by his self-reported unsportsmanlike behaviour.  From stealing Gatorade to Zodiacing back to the ship as soon as he crossed the finish line rather than staying to support his fellow runners (people, I hasten to add, he’s come to know quite well after days on an isolated ship) to his endless whining about embarrassment over his “glacial slow” finish time at times it takes effort to like the man.  Not to mention the expectation that his friends and family buy him all the necessary gear required for such a trip, guilting them into elaborate birthday gifts and then returning the generous “donations” for things he really wanted/needed.  If you can afford the $5000 price tag to run in Antarctica buy your own damn gloves. 

Did I mention that the race is his 50th birthday present to himself?   Make note Husband.  It sure beats a little red corvette and a tawdry affair, but I’m not sure of the wisdom in two weeks in dangerous seas with a newborn at home.  The lucrative book deal probably helped his case.  To his credit, he pokes fun at his misdeeds and imperfections and finds perspective, albeit late, which I’m told is better than never.  I may be too hard on him.  I blame the author photo.

The book, primarily, is a historic look at the Antarctic Marathon, marathoning, running tourism, the evolution of running, and Antarctic exploration.  Hanc does a fine job of weaving adventures past with happenings present.  He successfully highlights the forgotten stories and tells an intriguing tale of danger and adventure replicated on a small scale by staging a cold, muddy, hilly marathon at the end of the world.  I appreciated the parallels drawn between explorers and notable runners past and average folks finding adventure in the modern world.  This book will appeal to armchair history buffs who like to run (like me), to runners who like to mix tourism with races (like me), and to folks with an adventurous streak (like me in theory, but in action my worrisome nature beats down the call of the wild).  I think it is a rare runner who will read this book and not be inspired to run a race in an exotic or challenging local.  Anything seems possible after reading a romanticized tale of beating the odds.  The Antarctica Marathon, to me, sounds like 26.2 miles of unnecessary torture, but going north, now that’s a running adventure I can imagine.  I finished this book, looked at Husband and said “want to run the 2010 Reykjavik (Iceland) Marathon?”.  After no time to think he answered with a resounding yes.  Go Vikings.

RunShort’s Rating: 3.5 out of 5 sneakers. 

Reference:  John Hanc – The Coolest Race on Earth: Mud, Madmen, Glaciers, and Grannies at the Antarctica Marathon.  Chicago Review Press, Chicago, IL.  2009.

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If you go chasing rabbits

Posted on May 1, 2009 | 1 Comment

The Hare and the Tortoise

(Translated by George Fyler Townsend, 1867)

A Hare one day ridiculed the short feet and slow pace of the Tortoise, who replied, laughing:  “Though you be swift as the wind, I will beat you in a race.”  The Hare, believing her assertion to be simply impossible, assented to the proposal; and they agreed that the Fox should choose the course and fix the goal.  On the day appointed for the race the two started together.  The Tortoise never for a moment stopped, but went on with a slow but steady pace straight to the end of the course.  The Hare, lying down by the wayside, fell fast asleep.  At last waking up, and moving as fast as he could, he saw the Tortoise had reached the goal, and was comfortably dozing after her fatigue.
 
Slow but steady wins the race.

 
 
Popular retelling of this centuries old tale has the Hare quickly establishing a daunting lead, then inexplicably stopping for a rest before the push to the finish.  The translators have us believe that the cocky Hare, so certain of his running prowess, decided to nap for a time before hippity-hopping to a win.  I’m not convinced.  A competitor like the Hare would not stop before breaking the tape and having the laurel wreath placed upon his head.  A competitor like the Hare would delight in a crushing victory; he would never allow the Tortoise time to catch up.  I propose that the Hare went out way too fast, hit the wall three-quarters of the way though the race, and stopped not out of choice but necessity.  Hare succumbed to crippling muscles spasms and overwhelming fatigue and collapsed in a heap by the wayside.  The Hare is a sprinter, with no strategy for an endurance event, and he paid dearly for his lack of pacing.  With rest he found renewed energy and although he tried to make up for lost time, it was too late. 

The slow and steady Tortoise, with her sensibly even pacing, had won.  After the race, to save face, Hare told a little white lie, pretending he opted to “sleep” away some of his lead, when in reality with his glycogen stores drained he had little choice but to nurse his leaden legs and hope for a quick recovery.  Most runners know that when you charge out of the gate too quickly, legs freshly tapered and high on pre-race adrenaline, you rapidly deplete your energy stores and risk a magnificent flame-out in the final kilometres.  The Hare learned this lesson the hard way.  The wise Tortoise finished strong by maintaining her steady pace over the final quarter of the race and with a little kick left at the end she won the footrace and achieved what few runners can: the negative split. 
 
 
References:
Aesop.  Est. 620–560 BC.  The Hare and the Tortoise in Aesop’s Fables. 
Townsend, G.F.  1867.  Three Hundred Aesop’s Fables: Literally translated from the Greek.

Title Reference: Jefferson Airplane – White Rabbit.  From the album Surrealistic Pillow.  1967.

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