I recently enjoyed a talk by a famous local runner / travel show host on the joys of destination running. Coincidently, of the eight (nine?) marathons I’ve run, only one has been in my home country. Not because I don’t like my home country, but because (as you all know from my months of whining) I don’t like training during the summer and there are few Nov/Dec/Jan races in my home jurisdiction. Continue reading
Posted in Running Tids & Bits
Tagged Boston Marathon, fitness, health, marathon, Marine Corps Marathon, New York City Marathon, running, ultramarathon, weather, winter
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.
Posted in Reviews on the Run
Tagged books, celebrity, marathon, running, ultramarathon
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.
Posted in Reviews on the Run
Tagged books, exercise, fitness, health, running, ultramarathon
On a Saturday evening I sat in an old run-down theatre, the kind of theatre that whispers of a once grand room, on a faded faux-velvet seat beneath an upper balcony and chandeliers that bring to mind Phantom of the Opera, with the smell of middle eastern take-away wafting in from the counter next door and mingling with the buttery scent of greasy popcorn. In this room of faded glory I watched six South Africans test their athleticism against the oldest and largest ultramarathon course in the world: The Comrades Marathon. The movie premiered in Canada during the Canadian Sport Film Festival as part of a closing night South African double bill. The audience was almost exclusively filled with non-running South Africans (as evidenced by questions such as ‘is this movie about running’ and ‘how far is a marathon’) and runners (as evidenced by the many Boston Marathon jackets, mine included).
The film format of Comrades is like Spirit of the Marathon, in that the documentary follows six men and women as they train for and ultimately run Comrades. Comrades Marathon is a misnomer, as this gruelling course is more than two marathons in length (90 kilometres/56 miles). The cast ranges from back of the pack finishers to medal contenders. About 12,000 runners sign up for this madness, 11,000 of them local countrymen. In most countries the marathon is the ultimate test of human endurance. In South Africa you aren’t a real runner unless you run Comrades.
Peter, a career miner, is running for a gold medal (top ten finish) and respect in his homeland. He needs to improve his best time by over 40 minutes to be a contender. Andrew was the first South African black man to win after the fall of apartheid and he holds nine gold medals (top ten finishes). He’s out to set a record by winning a tenth gold. Riana, the only female and only professional runner in the group, is also out for a win. During her last attempt she collapsed at 60k. Father is running his 10th Comrades and, as is the custom, upon completion his bib number will be retired. Wearing an umbrella hat and flamboyant gear he seems a bit out-of-place amidst the super-serious runners. Johnny and his pilot (guide) Moses runs to deal with a violent attack that left him blind and epileptic. This will be his 19th Comrades race. Bob the Builder obsessed Nico started running to lose weight. On his second Comrades run he’s after a silver medal (finishing under 7.5 hours). The cast is biased towards faster runners; most registrants finish in the bronze medal range but half of the cast is running for a gold. With about 2000 women and 10000 men running the race, the 1:6 female-male ratio is accurately captured. Unlike the marathon, with upwards of 40% female runners, Comrades is still mostly run by men. No first-timers were included in the film, which is a shame.
The documentary was filmed on an “up” year. The point to point route alternates direction every year such that some years the net elevation change is an increase (up) and other years a decrease (down). Regardless of the direction the course time limit is a strict 12 hours. A series of medals are allocated based on finishing time and position, from gold to copper. As the clock nears 12 hours the massive crowd counts down. When the clock flips from 11.59 to 12.00 the band hilariously plays Taps, the clock is turned off, and the race shutdown. Until next year. If you finish in 12.01 you do not get a medal or a finishing time. No exceptions. The majority of runners finish in the final hours, with about 50% of the runners crossing in the final 10% of time. Runners push themselves to the brink trying to meet the cutoff and the medical tents fill to capacity. Watching the montage of joy and agony of the finish line is one of the best parts of the movie. People collapsing, runners carrying other runners across the finish, runners crawling across the mat, and some not making it at all. It sure put my upcoming 42.2K in perspective. I’m reasonably certain I won’t need to crawl across the finish line.
This movie centres around the Comrades Marathon, but it is about more than just running. The history of the race is woven around the political climate of apartheid and social change. The race started in 1921 to honour WW1 heros. Amazing race footage dating back to the 1920s mirrors the many changes in the country, with apartheid playing the leading role. The film expresses the belief among South Africans that Comrades is more than a race, it is a symbol of unity. The movie and the race (and running) is about more than just reaching a finish line. I like that message. That said, I wish they spent a bit more time on the running. I’d like to know how many miles the runners log in training, if they ran Two Oceans as a tune-up race (I’ve read that many do so), and injuries and set-backs they suffered along the way. The historical footage was awesome, the personal stories interesting, but I’m a details girl and that side of me left a little unsatisfied. Husband has always wanted to run Comrades, but me not so much. After watching this movie though … I’m tempted. Maybe I’ll start with the South African Two Oceans 56Km “Marathon”.
Runshort’s Rating: 4/5 sneakers.
Posted in Reviews on the Run
Tagged exercise, fitness, health, marathon, movie review, movies, running, ultramarathon
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.
Posted in Reviews on the Run
Tagged books, celebrity, exercise, fitness, food, health, marathon, running, ultramarathon
The final chapter in my spring quadfecta: a 50K ultramarathon. At the shortest common length, 50K is the baby of the ultramarathon scene. It’s still more than enough kilometres for this runner. I think twice about driving that distance. I feel accomplished when I log 50K on my mountain bike. Last year I got this kooky notion to run 50k thinking it would benefit my marathon running. This year I persuaded six other members of my run club to take on the ultrarunning challenge. Husband has a sticker that says “there’s no such thing as ultrajogging“.
So an ultramarathon starter distance and, in this case, on a great starter course. Great assuming no blazing sun. The meterologists were, for once, accurate and the day started out mosquito infested, overcast, and muggy. Not a sunbeam to be found. Soon enough the Torrential Downpours drove the biting bugs into hiding and relieved the humidity. I’m not complaining about the monsoon, I’ll always take buckets of water dumping on my head over sunny and hot. During a race, that is. A drencher doesn’t seem to slow me down, in fact stomping though puddles brings the carefree-kid joy back into my running. I was surprised, however, that a mammoth tourist destination such as Niagara Falls has no means of channeling water from pedestrian pathways. We ran through puddles higher than our shoes (there was no avoiding them, so after about 10 minutes one discovered the wisest course of action was to blast straight through). Seems the city planners were strangely averse to drainage systems. I thought I was dressed for the 20mm of expected water fall, but in their soaked state my already itty bitty shorts – which stupidly were not water tested - had this habit of creeping up such that I was showing much more leg than anticipated and were it not for the stickly “shape” of my gams I surely would have suffered terribly from inner thigh abrasions. A friend solved his nipple chafing problem by pulling up his heart rate monitor and fashioning it as a manly bra. He was clever; I saw a lot of bloody nipple stains and more than a few people begging for Vaseline at the aid stations. A wet weather runner, I fared well and have just one wee blister to show for my water-logged efforts.
One thing I especially like about ultramarathons (I speak as though I am oh so experienced – but I’ve read this is true of most) is the aid stations. People hang out a little and eat and chat. It’s awesome. No rushing through, not even wanting to slow for a split second to properly grab the cup, gatorade flinging in all directions. I’m looking at you, marathon. It’s calm and civilized. In this particular race the volunteers were enthusiastic, the food varied and plentiful (although I avoided all but the watermelon and oranges), and the spacing about perfect (every 5k).
This course is particularly lovely. The entire route follows the Niagara River Recreation Trail. As you run from Niagara-on-the Lake to Niagara Falls and back again you are in continuous view of the water. The trail winds past vineyards, historic towns, mansions of the rich and possibly famous, monuments, raging rapids, and gushing falls. Unfortunately today the falls were obscured by an eerie fog. As was the head of Sir Isaac Brock. Some people loathe out and back routes. I am partial to them. The run always seems faster on the return portion and I notice cool stuff that I missed the first time around. I also like passing by the other runners as some are running out and some back. It’s fun to marvel at the speedy winners as they zip by. I enjoy how friendly everyone is, even the lead runners – as we passed each other by the air echoed with ‘way to go’, ‘lookin’ good’, and ‘well dones’. The atmosphere is incredibly supportive. Congratulations abound from fellow runners, as you pass someone you are likely to hear a heartfelt bravo. The race organizers and volunteers seemed entirely focused on making sure people have a positive race experience. As I crossed the finish line a race official came up to me to ask if I had fun (to which he dryly added, I mean did you have fun at least for the first 45K, acknowledging that it is hard to have fun during the total slog that can be the final miles) and he seemed sincerely interested in my response.
I did have a fun run, for the first 46K. The last 4k, I won’t sugarcoat, were tough. Not unfun, not gruelling, but tough. My legs suddenly weighed 125 pounds each and my brain had to will them to move. I didn’t mess up on pacing and flame-out (in fact ran a 15 min negative split), but I did not take in enough fuel and I think I was totally depleted. Two gels, half a bag of sport beans, four orange slices, one watermelon slice, and minimal water … definitely inadequate. I didn’t pee once between 7:30 am and 3pm, enough said. Rookie mistake, letting poor nutrition ambush me in the backstretch.
Still I can be stubborn and my bag is filled with mental tricks, so I pulled out my favourite dissociative technique and soldiered on. Husband, who couldn’t run due to his exploded appendix, served as my race support and helpfully updated me as I the neared end that there was only 700m to go. Little did he know, I was compulsively counting alligators (one alligator, two alligators, three alligators …) with the rule that I was not allowed to look at the distance remaining until I reached 250 alligators, at which point I hoped to be within half a kilometre of the finish. To his helpfulness I responded with a ‘please stop talking’, except maybe I forgot the please. And maybe it was more of a grumble than a response. Sorry Husband. At the finish line, once I consumed (almost without chewing) two slices of pizza, two doughnuts, an apple, six orange slices, a peppermint patty chocolate, a bag of mixed chips, and a cookie I was considerably politer. Entry also came with two beer tickets, but the thought of beer kind of made me want to throw-up so I passed. Another thing I love about this race? The post-race feast.
And, because I love race swag, the race hoodie (yes, a hoodie!) is worth a special mention. This year the sweatshirt is dark green with the logo on the chest pocket and Niagara Ultra 09 scrolled down the sleeve. Awesome. I was disappointed that they gave out real medals instead of the engraved keychains, because I adored the engraved keychains. The 21.1K runners received the coveted keychain, but the 42.2k and 50K runners shared a medal. They are fine medals, nothing special, but they are certainly not as cool as that keychain. Bring back the keychain! I was also disappointed that only the first place finishers were awarded a prize, just because I seldom place in a prize-worthy position. But that’s not a complaint of the race, just me looking to feed my ego with a trophy.
Title Reference: Supertramp – It’s Raining Again. From the album Famous Last Words. 1982.
There is a downside to the long-term weather forecast. As race day approaches I start my endless obsessing with matters completely out of my control. There is much to preoccupy my thoughts, but the weather is one of my favourite fixations. I start about fourteen days before the big event, my emotions roller-coastering along with the ever changing forecast. I’m looking at weather charts and systems, trying to muddle through the foreign language of meteorology, all in search of a glimmer of hope. My glimmers are often if X happens in Nunavut and Y happens in Florida and the moons of Jupiter are in the house of the rising sun, then there is a .02% chance of cool and overcast conditions on race day. I am not alone in these weather-checking tendencies. The week has been filled with a string of emails, each one funnier than the last, lamenting the most recent weather update and downgrading finish expectations to something along the lines of ‘before the course closes’.
A few days ago the weather for this weekend’s 50K fun run (yes, I’m still insisting on the fun) made a prediction I tried to immediately repress about the heat plus humidity making it “feel like 34C”. Translation “DNF”. Repression failed, panic rising. My incompatibility with the heat of summer is well-documented. I go from fine and dandy to comatose in about 20 minutes, with nary a bead of sweat ever forming. I simply will not make it to the finish line if the mercury, real or “feels like”, rises to oppressive levels. Unfortunately for me, by that I mean anything over 20C. Given the choice I would opt for wind, snowstorms, hail, or torrential rain over running in a climate to rival in the fiery depths of hell. 25C and I find religion, praying for it all to end. I’ve actually spent the last two days contemplating a distance downgrade, such is my aversion to warm, never mind hot, weather running. A certified (or certifiable) night owl, I have been getting up in the wee hours of the morning to beat the heat and it’s only June. To say I am a hopeless runner in the scorching sun is a dramatic under-statement. You may ask yourself why I am running a race (but, I must remind, not racing the run) in June. You know those ideas that seem good at the time? Yeah, that.
But there is hope. The weather tides have turned, not a complete 180 degrees but a promising 90. Four days from on-your-mark-get-set-go and The Weather Network is predicting 20C, 80% chance of rain, winds around 20km/hr. That’s about as perfect as I dare wish for in June. I’m quelling my excitement for fear of the pre-race jinx, but my optimism is rising despite myself. Truthfully, I’m overcome with sweet relief. I’m still ridiculously under-trained (chips on the theory that it is better to arrive at the start line 10% under-trained than 1% over-trained), but with one less thing to worry about. For now. Tomorrow’s forecast is likely to throw me into yet another tailspin.
Title Reference: James Taylor – Fire and Rain. From the album Sweet Baby James. 1970.
Posted in My Amazing Races, Running Tids & Bits
Tagged fun run, running, summer, ultramarathon, weather
My Running Shorts: short stories about my life on the run.
