Coming UP under New Features: So You Think You Can Run?

As a runner, do you fit any of these categories?

Category 1: runners who seek to dominate at the highest level. They may run for money and fame, but for these folks, being the best is its own reward.

Category 2:  middle-of-the-pack harriers who want nothing more than to somehow catapult into the lead pack, rub elbows with the elite runners.

Category 3: people who run for purely personal reasons. Beating other runners is not an issue. These runners care most about the contribution running can make to their health and self esteem.

So maybe you fit a category, maybe you’re in a category by yourself. Maybe like me you have shifted categories with the sands of time. One thing is certain. If you are a runner, you have at least one really good story to tell. That would be the story you would tell if someone were to look you in the eye and say, “So you think you can run?”

Run For Your Life wants that story.  



Our first So You Think You Can Run? special will be an interview with Jeff Hall from Surprise Arizona. Jeff’s interview will run on Friday, September 2nd. He will reveal his passion, his insights, and his unique journey:



       

From Clydesdale



To Ironman





Not quite all about running

In February 1992 Bernice Wagner and I decided to have a go at being partners for life. For 19 years we loved, supported and defined each other. In February 2011, Bernice died of a pulmonary aneurysm. The loss of her love and support was devastating, but her memory still defines me. I will always be the person I became because of who she was and how she loved me.

At this point, memories of Bernice bring as much sadness as joy. I’m still sifting through the guilt and anger surrounding the circumstances of her death. But grief is a process. My hope is that my process, my journey, will bring me to a place where the memories will revive some of the joy we had in the making of them.

So Run For Your Life is about completing the journey that Bernice and I started together. The New York City Marathon will be the first dream I have realized without Bernice by my side. In Launch Pad I said I would celebrate the big run with her. But it will be more than celebrating a dream fulfilled; it will be a milestone in the grieving process.  

One of my Bernice-supported dreams was having my own running blog. I wanted to dedicate it to the everyday, middle-of-the-pack runners and fill it with their stories. I am thrilled to be doing that now, but the loss of Bernice has changed things. I am still all about running, but I’m also about grieving. Currently I’m participating in grief counselling groups and visiting grief blog sites. I intend to share some of these experiences with you and I hope you will feel free to do the same.

A Note of Appreciation by Way of Apology

There has been some discussion amongst my family and friends regarding the appropriateness of my use of the term Death March in my blog page Dinner and a Death March.

I claim poetic license in the sense that “death march” is common in the vernacular of our times. It often serves as “gallows humor”, which is a coping technique used by many of us.

I offer further disclaimer in the text of Dinner and a Death March:

In fact, it was about then that we started our death march conversations, not because we suffered the abuse and deprivations of historical death march victims such as the American POW’s from World War 1I or the American Indians on the Trail of Tears. We weren’t being starved or beaten. We were, however, in a situation that could deplete our energy sources, and we did have reason to believe that our bodies could simply shut down, leaving us helpless on the side of the trail.

I also entered comment on the Washington Post story: Albert N. Brown, oldest survivor of Bataan Death March, dies at 105

The Bataan Death March occurred two months before I was born (1942). I owe the next 68 years of my life to Albert N. Brown and the men and women he served with during WW II. I doubt I can match his 105 years, but if I have but a drop of his courage I can look forward to a future full of hope. Thank you Albert! May you and your comrades long be remembered.

Since running is our chosen metaphor for life, I strongly recommend another incredible survival story, that of Louis Zamparini who became arguably the ultimate survivor due to his extended interment by the Japanese in World War II. Zamparini’s running laurels include being the youngest person (19) ever to make an Olympic team. His survival is chronicled in the novel Unbroken by Laura Hillenbrand, simply a must read for everybody.