tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-65355236992024412382024-02-07T16:54:14.856-08:00Holding Doors for DinosaursThis is a blog about the things I love: my family, friends, rhyming, running, and school(well I have a love/hate relationship with school). I am making a small documentation of my life to share with others. I hope it finds you well, motivates you, makes you laugh, or even makes you think. My efforts are as pure as holding a door for a dinosaur- its all about the intention. Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00080063694887332066noreply@blogger.comBlogger29125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6535523699202441238.post-29158883986299181312015-12-23T08:17:00.001-08:002015-12-23T08:17:37.104-08:00Why treadmill running (probably) won't kill you this winter.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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The treadmill is a swear word to many runners. "Why work out like a hamster" I've heard uttered before. I know, it's not the epic trail that you may run from time to time or a moonlit path in the city, but don't kid yourself. The treadmill can kick your ass- if you let it.<br />
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If your like the majority of runners who train mostly alone, keeping honest with workouts can be challenging. There is no incentive, no skin in the game. <i>What if </i>the incentive was not being thrown into the back wall.<br />
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Not to mention the excuses we all give ourselves for poor workouts in the winter. .. "oh the cold air is too much too breathe hard " or "the road was so slippery, I'm just glad I didn't trip!". All signs that your run wasn't very productive... but was probably fun. <br />
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I'm not trying to be a fun sponge and say that running in the snow and such is bad, but at times it can be counter-productive. Your working so hard not to fall on your ass that your A) utilizing bad running form and B) running slower than your probably supposed to for a given workout.<br />
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Also, Heres a Pro- Tip: Literally no one cares if you run outside in sub 20 degree weather. I know, I know, your selfie of your snow beard nearly went viral- but unless your training for the Antartica marathon, everyone will be asking you the same question. Why?<br />
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So are you catching my drift, think you want to start doing some workouts on the treadmill? Here are some simple steps to starting.<br />
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Option A: Buy a treadmill<br />
I know what your thinking, "Im not sure I can commit to this." Its a big step in a runners life, so lets discuss the most popular and affordable option.<br />
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Option B: Join a Gym<br />
The Gym is a very scary place for most runners. It is the shrine of pulsing veins and oily muscles- as well as senior citizen silver sneaker classes. Fear not! Although you may see shirts that read, " Eat Big and leave a huge corpse" or "315 Bench Club", these people do not want to eat you, nor bench press you. They are here to do what you have come to do, and that is workout. Odds are you'll never even compete with them for the same weight room equipment. Here are some unspoken truths of the gym-<br />
1) Every day is Bi's, Tri's, and Chest<br />
2) Heavy Metal means mad gains<br />
3) When someone is chalking their hands, you better pay attention. This person is setting world records.<br />
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Other than that you just have to make it to a treadmill without receiving too much ridicule for your tiny shorts and 5k tee shirt. And even if you do, let it fuel the fire! Bring with you a music device preloaded with Rage Against the Machine, Beastie Boys, Naughty by Nature, Cypress Hill, etc. You will have nothing good to look at for the next 30-90 minutes, so get in the zone (unless an attractive women/man gets onto an elliptical thats positioned in front of you). Hopefully after a few sessions you will have found that special treadmill that goes faster than the others. Yes, this is the diamond in the rough- your noble steed that you will ride into the spring race season with. You will tame her, and when you do, your spring PR's will be bountiful.<br />
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Listen- you don't have to believe what I say about the treadmill, who am I? Im not even the top runner in the small Buffalo area suburb that I live in. But I can tell you that the people in our area that keep their winter speed work honest by running on the treadmill are kicking my butt right now. So where do <i>you </i>want to be when the spring season rolls around?<br />
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** Also, if you are training for a winter race where weather could be an issue, then yes -this post was probably useless to you. Preparing for conditions will be important for your event- so be smart and good luck.<br />
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This post was inspired by my good friend "A-List", who is a Buffalo Area runner that has continued to improve his personal records with more than 60% of his training performed on a treadmill. In just 4 years he has taken his marathon time to 2:40 and his 5k to 16:08. Think he hasn't improved on the treadmill? He's the guy that got me to buy into it.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00080063694887332066noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6535523699202441238.post-52600151767096437882014-08-10T18:46:00.002-07:002014-08-10T18:46:50.652-07:00Mini Beast reflections: Beast of Burden 25 mile race report<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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There is only one constant in our lives<br />
and that is change.<br />
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As I pulled into a parking spot on Mill street I couldn't help but think about how different this time running the erie canal tow path would be.<br />
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About 6 months earlier I had pulled into a parking spot on Mill street in my cold gear leggings and a winter jacket. The heat in my car was blasting and my music was turned down to a dull rumble. I was nervous- but had the support of my family and three of my friends who were willing to pace me in my 50 mile race. The real feel temperature was in the single digits and as the race started I had no idea what to expect. Pure adrenaline ran through me.<br />
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But this time was different. Due to an injury a few weeks prior I would only be running the 25 mile version of the race. The temperature was in the 80s- and my pacers in the previous race were no longer with me. Each is dealing with their own struggles- one has a family member with health concerns, the other with a job that hasn't left him much time to run, and the other a product of a failed romantic relationship.<br />
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I currently have good relationships with all of them, but it was bittersweet knowing that I would be traveling this course without their company.<br />
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The temperature changed, the company changed, the distance changed, and my apprehension was totally different. No longer was adrenaline pumping through me- but doubt. I was concerned about my injured heel holding up on the course.<br />
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Im typically a chatty guy at races, but this time was different. I put in my ear plugs at the start line and become mostly silent for the rest of the event. I think I was trying to drown my feelings of self doubt in Rage Against the Machine and Radiohead music. Thankfully it worked.<br />
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The heat and humidity were difficult to manage. I found myself with stomach discomfort after each gel I consumed- luckily I had brought some ginger candies with me to battle the pain.<br />
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At the last Aid Station I filled my water bottle and poured cups of water over my head. As soon as I left Radioheads "High and Dry" played into my ears- a funny reminder of how I hadn't actually drank any water at the station.<br />
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As I ran the final miles I couldn't help but think about the past. So much has changed for me in few months- but had I not returned back to this course I may not have realized it. </div>
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Upon finishing I was helped into an aid station tent by Jim Pease and Dwight- a massage therapist from New York City. We chatted about ultra running- mostly about how crazy I thought they both were for running hundred mile races. Dwight told me about his 100 mile journey just a few months prior- he said that it was his first race ever. No 5ks, 10ks, half marathons, or marathons- just 100 miles. I was floored.<br />
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I watched few runners come into the 25 mile mark- many of whom were running the 100 mile race and were looking very fresh. I iced my ankles and knees and felt grateful that I could even complete the 25 mile race today. I felt no envy towards these runners- just gratitude.<br />
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There were many repeat customers from the winter version of the Beast of Burden. It was good seeing them - these crazy people that I share a passion with. It was a beautiful reminder that although many things were different in this race, some things had not changed- my own desire to run.<br />
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25 miles in 3:05<br />
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Thanks to all volunteers of the Beast of Burden ultra marathon and to the Race Directors Ken and Bob! Congrats to Sam Corey, Heather Burger, Laura Makey, Denise Salmons, Justin Fitzgerald, Will Sulak, Tammy Messmer, Kevin Carrigan and everyone else that ran in the heat and humidity on August 9th 2014. You all inspire me :)<br />
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Be safe and always remember to run your <i>own</i> race.<br />
<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00080063694887332066noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6535523699202441238.post-82316535207139023302014-07-06T21:01:00.001-07:002014-07-06T21:01:05.256-07:00Desert Solitude, Perfect Strangers, and Running in the Heat: my summer adventure in the American SouthwestThere is a wonderful New York times story about a man nicknamed "slowmo". He roller blades along the streets of California in a fashion that makes him look as though time has stopped. He glides. It looks very strange, but you can tell by the smile on the mans face that he is having the most fun in the world. What many californians did not know was that "slowmo" was once a prominent surgeon. He lost his eyesight and subsequently lost his practice. At his last day in the hospital he asked a 90 year old man how he had managed to live so long. The man looked him straight in the eye and said, "You do exactly what you want."<br />
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I had planned out a month long summer road trip in the beginning of the winter. When the plans fell through, I set into a short phase of self loathing. "I'll just stick around here this summer, work a lot, it'll be fine" I convinced myself. But I had the time off of work, I am young, single, and mobile- I had to take the opportunity. I had to see the desert. I thought of "slowmo" as I booked the flight to Las Vegas. I did exactly what I wanted, and after a few minutes the reality sunk in that I was traveling to a region of the country I had never been to before with not a single person I had ever met..... this might be a little weird.....<br />
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<i>The trip</i></div>
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"Traveling alone is good for the soul" said Katie, my vacation tour guide as I buckled into the front seat of the van. I couldn't agree with her more, but due to the fact that I had been alone for the last 3 days starved of any real human communication I only nodded briefly at her comment. In the hours that passed, we traveled to Zion National park. Our conversation lasted almost the entire drive. In the previous 3 days with all the traveling, running, and new experiences I had made- I didn't really register how alone I had become, how downright weird and awkward I now was. Gushing out my life story to a complete stranger in an oversized van- it was absolutely what I needed.<br />
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I arrived to Vegas on June 15th at 10 am and headed straight to Red Rock Canyon in my tiny red rental car. The sun was hot, the air was dry, and the colors of the desert were magnificent. I hopped out of my car at the first stop of the scenic loop and went for a jog. The sandy soil felt great on my feet. There was not a single person on the trail, I had her all to myself. Its a miracle I didn't trip- I was looking all around taking in the sights. The large red and white rocks that looked like they had been placed there by aliens surrounded me. The cacti and bushes that brushed my legs asI ran by them gave me a pleasant rush of adrenaline. I was in total sensory overload, and loving every second of it.<br />
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After 8 plus hours of exploring the park, I headed over to the campground/picnic area to watch the sunset. The grounds were noisy. Lots of young families were starting fires, playing games, and singing loud songs. I became a tad irritated with the noise as I watched the sun set. I decided that if I couldn't get peace and quiet I might as well continue to experience sensory overload. So as the sky became dark, I packed up my car and headed to downtown Las Vegas.<br />
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In my sweat filled running singlet, bright green sneakers, and short shorts I would have stood out in many a crowd. Vegas was different. No one batted an eye at my goofy attire.<br />
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The lights and architecture of Vegas are mesmerizing. Such a stark contrast from the natural wonders I had seen earlier in the day. Walking around the strip at 2 am on a Sunday night felt like walking around a busy street in Buffalo at 8 pm on a Friday night, with probably 4 times the amount of people. And due to the lax open container laws in Las Vegas- almost everyone I encountered that night had some form of alcoholic beverage in their hands.<br />
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Skip ahead to the next day at 11 am. I am finishing my tour at the Hoover Dam and looking at my watch. I have run the scenic road into the dam area, taken pictures and conversed with employees of the dam, and had a large breakfast. With no further plans for the day, I decided to head to the Grand Canyon.<br />
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I arrived at the Grand Canyon around 3:30 and rushed out of my car. My legs were half asleep, so when I actually got close enough to see the canyon the jitters that started in my stomach radiated down my legs and made them feel as though they were about to explode. It was a weird rush, I loved every second.<br />
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I ran the rim trail of the Grand Canyon for about an hour and a half and walked back with my camera at hand. I took lots of pictures, but nothing could really do justice. I closed my eyes and took a mental snapshot. I also convinced myself that I must return someday. Maybe it will be the Grand Canyon ultra, or a Rim to Rim run, or a hike down into the canyon with some friends.<br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">That night I scored a motel room in a nearby town called Tusayan<span style="color: #2c2c2c;">. They had a nice little continental breakfast from which I grabbed three bananas, a bagel, peanut butter packets and small box of cheerios for the day ahead. </span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #2c2c2c; font-family: inherit;">That morning I ran and hiked in the grand canyon- this time going down into the actual canyon as a opposed to just going along the rim. After a few hours I hopped back into the little rental car and headed to Vegas once more. That night I met up with my travel group and went down to the strip with them. ::What happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas::</span><br />
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<span style="color: #2c2c2c; font-family: inherit;">From here on out the vacation became a blur. I was with so many new people, talking, exploring, and hiking in these exquisitely beautiful parks. The drives seemed so much shorter with people to talk to- and a driver doing the actual driving. We packed our days to the fullest, some days waking up at 4:30 am to make it to a park on time or to see a sunrise. Although I returned home to Buffalo a zombie for a few days, the sleepless nights were one hundred percent worth it. So not to make this blog entry 100 pages long, here were some major highlights.</span><br />
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<span style="color: #2c2c2c; font-family: inherit;">-Angels landing trail, Zion national park</span><br />
<span style="color: #2c2c2c; font-family: inherit;">- Bryce Point and Fairyland, Bryce Canyon </span><br />
<span style="color: #2c2c2c; font-family: inherit;">-Sunset at Dead horse point, Moab </span><br />
<span style="color: #2c2c2c; font-family: inherit;">- Late night ice cream at the Moab Diner, Moab </span><br />
<span style="color: #2c2c2c; font-family: inherit;">- Off Road Hummer tour, Moab</span><br />
<span style="color: #2c2c2c; font-family: inherit;">- Sunset at delicate arch, Arches national park </span><br />
<span style="color: #2c2c2c; font-family: inherit;">-The Needles, Canyonlands national park </span><br />
<span style="color: #2c2c2c; font-family: inherit;">- Pow wow, sleeping under the stars, and experiencing a sunrise in navajo nation, Monument Valley </span><br />
<span style="color: #2c2c2c; font-family: inherit;">- Antelope canyon tour and cowboy dinner, Page UT</span><br />
<span style="color: #2c2c2c; font-family: inherit;">- Petroglyphs on cliffs, Capitol Reef State park </span><br />
<span style="color: #2c2c2c; font-family: inherit;">-Karaoke at Ellis Island, Las Vegas</span><br />
<span style="color: #2c2c2c; font-family: inherit;">-Shark Reef at Mandelay Bay, Las Vegas</span><br />
<span style="color: #2c2c2c; font-family: inherit;">- Running, essentially everywhere</span><br />
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<i>Running in the heat </i><br />
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One of the most wonderful things about canyons, especially the Grand Canyon or Bryce Canyon, is how far you can see when standing on top of them. At Bryce point I felt as though I could see 50 miles ahead, watching the red desert sand turn to lush cattle fields and then to bluish grey mountains. In the Grand Canyon I looked down as saw the red and orange rock formations that patterned the canyon floor. The greenish blue river that runs through the Canyon is very visible from the top- its color almost a complete opposite to everything else in the Canyon.<br />
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But when you head down into them, it gets hot- quickly. The bright angel trail in the Grand Canyon was my first canyon hike/run and boy did it wake me up to the realities of canyon running. Luckily, there is a water bottle filling station right at the trail head, so I had a full bottle of water as I headed down the trail.<br />
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Running in the Grand Canyon, Bryce Canyon, Arches National Park, and Page Utah was incredible. I abandoned my gps watch, split times, and workout schedules and just cruised along the trails. I stopped when I wanted to and took in the sights. The runs were like quick tours of the area, I was killing two birds with the same stone. They were also some of the only times I ventured off alone from my group. After almost two weeks of running completely alone, I missed my training partners back in Buffalo.<br />
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I especially missed them while running in Arches national park. As I ran from balanced rock trail out to the Windows trailhead I saw a bunch of cyclists buzzing by me on the opposite side of the road. I was taking in the sights, feeling the dry desert air, and getting the runners high like I have never had before- but I will be unable to share that experience with any of my training partners or friends. Its a trade off you make when you travel alone, but Id make the decision again and again. Sometimes you need to be free of the things and people you love before you really start to notice how valuable they are to your life. That being said....<br />
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<i>Go it alone</i><br />
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I could go on and on about the things I saw and did on this trip, but I'd rather just convince you all to go out and experience them for yourself. Go to experience a pow wow in monument valley, sleep under the stars, and get woken up by wild horse at 2 am. Look down into the cliffs of Dead Horse point Utah and watch the sunset. See the desert, touch the sand, feel the heat. Its seductive in its own special way.<br />
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And if you have no one to go with... go it alone. Its hard if you follow the news to have faith in the kindness of strangers, but you just have to trust sometimes. I booked a trip through an adventure travel company- so although I did not know anyone, I was traveling with people who had decided to spend there vacation time in national parks. We had to have things in common.<br />
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I'm not going to lie, I got very lucky. Our group bonded almost immediately. The fellow travelers were from all over the world- Australia, Germany, Switzerland, England, and Scotland. We all brought something different to the table, but we acted very well communally. All of our destination times were met. When we had 45 minutes to prepare a meal we had it done in 30. We all took hikes and went on excursions together. I can say after a week of living in close quarters with these people they became my friends.<br />
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<i>In conclusion </i><br />
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I fell deeply in love with the desert, I tell anyone planning a vacation to strongly consider it as a destination. My parents even switched there summer plans to fly down to Arizona and see the Grand Canyon, I guess I can be pretty persuasive. I also boosted my own self confidence about traveling alone and I took the sound advice from the anonymous old man that inspired "slowmo"- I did exactly what I wanted (in a positive way). If your young and looking for an adventure, I urge you to go to the American Southwest. Do it now, do it before you can't. You'll thank me when your older.<br />
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A very special thanks to Alyson Duffy who told me all about Moab Utah and got me salivating over the pictures of delicate arch. Also a special thanks to my Intrepid guide Katie Regan who was a vital part of me seeing so much on my vacation. Last thank you goes to Mike Wach who last years took a road trip with me to Wyoming and Colorado. You got the "travel west"bug in me and I cannot thank you enough for it. </div>
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<span style="text-align: start;">Be safe- and always run your own race :)</span></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00080063694887332066noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6535523699202441238.post-8417895009869708302014-06-02T20:20:00.002-07:002014-06-03T04:38:08.739-07:00The Science and Art of running: Cayuga Trails 50 race report<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">I know that there is a science to running. It includes physics, chemistry, anatomy, mathematics, nutrition, psychology and numerous other disciplines.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">The scientific theory that applied most to the Cayuga Trails 50 mile race was that of relativity- as Albert Einstein put it,</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">"Put your hand on a hot stove for a minute, and it seems like and hour. Sit with a pretty girl for an hour, and it seems like a minute, THAT's relativity."</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">When I tell people that I am planning to run 50 miles they often give a reference to that distance, "Well thats like running from (location a) to (location b, which is 50 miles away)!" The most common reference I hear is Buffalo to Ellicottville. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">It sounds daunting. It looks awful. It appears altogether overwhelming, but then you have to factor the theory of relativity:</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">I love to run long distances. Many of my friends are all along the course giving me encouragement. The temperature is perfect. The trail is beautiful. My legs are fresh. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">This doesn't change the distance- nor the 9 plus hours spent completing it, but it changes of the perception of the task. It wasn't 9 hours of job that is dissatisfying, it was more like 9 hours in disney world. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">Running trails may not be your bliss, but I'm quite certain everyone can relate to an activity that they can get lost in. To recognize that bliss and develop your ability is the choice we are all given.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">So heres how the race went: </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">I arrived at the North Shelter of the Tremon State park at 4:45 am, driven by my brother Alex. We had camped at Buttermilk State park the night before. I tried to lay down and fall asleep at 10 pm, but instead I lay awake almost the entire night listening to my brother, Mike Wach, and Jenna talk about when humans would need to leave the earth and colonize other planets. It kept my mind off the race.<br />
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">Waiting for me at the shelter was Gil, Tim, and Laura- my race crew for the day. I briefed them on my drop bag and the location of all the essential items. I was trying to remain calm, but as the minutes ticked down til the race started to feel giddy. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">I drank some coffee, ate a bagel, went to the bathroom and before I knew it the horn sounded and the race began. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">Being that this was the most competitive ultra marathon I had ever competed in, I had no idea what to expect. The lead pack started out at a dizzying pace. Did I not get the memo? Was this changed to a 5k race?</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">That was really the last I saw of the leaders. I settled into a comfortable pace. My coach had told me to stay conservative in the beginning. After checking out the course with Mike the day prior that may have meant to power walk the first 25 miles. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">The first loop was a blur. The course was so beautiful and the cool morning air made it for an extremely pleasant 25 miles. I saw my friends scattered along the course route- always a pleasant pick- me- up. A hug from Mike at the halfway point, a thumbs up and smile from Alex at an aide station, loud cheers from Julia Smith her sisters and mother at crossroad point, and the Bloody Nipples Athletic club guys (and girl) Andy, Jay, and Lynn clapping for me at trailhead.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">I felt like I could go on forever. That wasn't the case.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">Meanwhile at each aide station, Gil was making sure I wasted as little time as possible. He handed me roctane energy gels, filled my water bottles, and monitored my caloric intake. At mile 18 he filled my water bottle with Ginger ale. Id never trained with ginger ale before- but it worked wonders. Any uneasiness in my stomach subsided. </span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpSFXwugsFiVAm9s-Gd8r1EiTVGtRMLb3kShY2MFftKszhx1E14Zi9WTBZPJ7O0iyYpmqN02Hr_tWomZeDlU1-TIO_GPlu05m26vtYcaBOZ5gpBx1uBRUNgNS8jaT082-GyeGe1RnOdV4Z/s1600/1601568_10202887094512197_414027259092512266_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpSFXwugsFiVAm9s-Gd8r1EiTVGtRMLb3kShY2MFftKszhx1E14Zi9WTBZPJ7O0iyYpmqN02Hr_tWomZeDlU1-TIO_GPlu05m26vtYcaBOZ5gpBx1uBRUNgNS8jaT082-GyeGe1RnOdV4Z/s1600/1601568_10202887094512197_414027259092512266_n.jpg" height="213" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">While on the course I chatted for a few miles with a man named Eric. He was a chemist from New Jersey running in his first 50 mile race. He told me all about his humble beginnings in running, his kids, his research, and about living in New Jersey. I conversed a little bit, but when the 38 mile point hit I told him that I was too physically taxed to keep talking. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">He was fine, his stride still looked strong and his spirits were high. "Go make a move Eric, don't you wait for me. I'll see you at the finish." I said. We didn't encounter again on the course, but I saw him at the finish line and gave him a huge hug. He finished his first 50 mile race in the 24th place.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">At the time Eric was leaving, so was the strength in my legs. As I went to walk up a stone staircase- my left quad just wouldn't contract. I came back down the stair, had to regroup, and hopped onto the next step. I pushed my hands hard on my legs as I climbed the stairs, giving some added boost to my weak steps. The wheels had fallen off. And I knew it.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">The next few miles were painful and when I reached the final aide station my emotions started to spill. While taking a video of me leaving the final aide station Julia said to me, "Say hi to your mom Zach, she probably thinks your crazy!" </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">I tried to hold back the tears, but it was no good. I was going to finish this course and I had hundreds of people to thank. It all went by so quick. The 50 mile ultra marathon turned into a 2.9 mile hobble to the finish- and I was going to make it.</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfvmx3CQnC_DuoKrdOZOm9klgZ1bdFVO1Z33KqQTHfyH0gRGD0mEFW3DPO1H51YoKDCz_JimNVBGMsvwsHB-ZzOSWbY1ofZ6wvpnzVUrspUsXxShN-auXfKTBj4JjCHx1JMdw_wX84jiLx/s1600/10383642_10202887101032360_7548981094196210838_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfvmx3CQnC_DuoKrdOZOm9klgZ1bdFVO1Z33KqQTHfyH0gRGD0mEFW3DPO1H51YoKDCz_JimNVBGMsvwsHB-ZzOSWbY1ofZ6wvpnzVUrspUsXxShN-auXfKTBj4JjCHx1JMdw_wX84jiLx/s1600/10383642_10202887101032360_7548981094196210838_n.jpg" height="213" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">I crossed the finish line, bent over. and put my face in my hands. I cried tears of joy for several seconds- but didn't have the energy to hyperventilate. It was over. Muscles that I didn't know I had ached, my stomach was a wreck, my feet felt raw, but I was grinning from ear to ear. My crying turned to laughter and Im quite sure I must have looked like a lunatic. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">I desperately needed to lay down.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">Laura grabbed me by the side and carried me into the North Shelter. She told me to lay on my back and put my feet up on a large plastic bin. She left and quickly returned with three bags of ice which I put on my knees and forehead. I closed my eyes in exhaustion.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">When I opened my eyes and saw my friend Nate Beardsley and his girlfriend Katie staring down at me, their faces expressed both pity and excitement. Nate had ran with me in my first 50 mile race along with Andy Campanga and Julia Smith, so he knew what to expect. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">When I regained my composure and finally stood up I read a thank you speech I had prepared the night before I left for Ithaca. It mentioned all the people who had helped make the race as special as it was and who had positively influenced my life. I got choked up during the entire reading- and fortunately for my machismo, Tim- who had been videotaping the entire race, lost battery in his video camera. Perfect timing. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">So although I believe that running has a science behind it, I also believe that it is a form of athletic art. There is no one way to run. Each runner uses there own body as a paintbrush and each course as their canvas. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">Fast or slow, short or long, if you can make your race into its own art form as opposed to a lifeless body of statistics and excel charts you will truly enjoy the pure bliss that running is supposed to be. Then let the theory of relativity apply itself...</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">So be well, stay safe, and ALWAYS run your own race. </span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgW64SYT71NftK9kley1fgfi1VK9eCxjHkzHDNhE98Ywwp7JW8byVjvub8bUJMHr76WgrRz0aenqV6R3lcNpz2ZC_nzm3ImimPzN6dXTqWcGaQI3VLwPm_NySxwO8hhohfeIf_oy4_VvQkU/s1600/1466078_10152161741128499_8963696719659833455_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgW64SYT71NftK9kley1fgfi1VK9eCxjHkzHDNhE98Ywwp7JW8byVjvub8bUJMHr76WgrRz0aenqV6R3lcNpz2ZC_nzm3ImimPzN6dXTqWcGaQI3VLwPm_NySxwO8hhohfeIf_oy4_VvQkU/s1600/1466078_10152161741128499_8963696719659833455_n.jpg" height="213" width="320" /></a></div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00080063694887332066noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6535523699202441238.post-53396194800644686192014-05-26T18:36:00.000-07:002014-05-26T18:36:05.115-07:00Running unattached: How running clubs are helping people stay active, reach goals, and develop friendshipsThere is no cool way to say this. I'm going to sound like that guy in the corner of Golds Gym who reminds everyone near the weight rack how much he, "used to bench".<br />
<br />
But here it goes. I was <i>supposed</i> to be a college athlete.<br />
<br />
Its kindof a funny story. When I was accepted to D'youville's Physician Assistant program I received a little pamphlet asking if I was interested in any of the schools sports or clubs. I checked cross country.<br />
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A few weeks later I saw a guy in a D'youville cross country shirt at a local 5k (the St. John Vianny). I asked him if he had ran for the school. He was the coach.<br />
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We trash talked a little before the race and I left him my name and number. He called me the next week and gave me the meet schedule. I was beaming.<br />
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I started running tempos. I even made it to a track once. I had one ultra marathon left, but that was it. Done with that and onto cross country racing. I even bought red racing flats to match my jersey. I never received that jersey.<br />
<br />
On the day of cross country orientation the athletic director walked into the small classroom and shouted, "does anyone here have an undergraduate degree? If so raise your hand."<br />
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I raised my hand.<br />
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"Okay bud, I'm sorry to inform you but you are unable to run here. NCAA rules. If you'd like to help coach just let me know."<br />
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I was embarrassed, confused, and shocked. I threw on my red racing flats and ran through the city. I came back a few hours later, took a shower and went into the gross anatomy lab to finish studying. I was quiet for a few days.<br />
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<br />
That was fate. But so was meeting Nate B at the Greater Buffalo Track and Field cross country race at Hoyt lake.<br />
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It was a miserable day. The course was soaked. Light rain came down. The skies were cloudy and truth be told, I just wanted to get it over with.<br />
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The gun went off and I soon realized that this was not going to be a good race. I was slipping all over the place and the leaders were running out of my sight. "Just finish", I thought.<br />
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I was running toe to toe with this kid in a red and white jersey that had the word "ripper" on the back of it. I asked him if his name was Jack. He said it was Nate. We pushed through the last mile, watching each other and we slogged up the muddy hills, neither of us were having a banner day.<br />
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At the end of the race we met up. He had mentioned that the club he was in, the "Bloody Nipples Athletic Club" ran long days at chestnut ridge. I told him to call me the next time he was around.<br />
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(Nate B to the left- Justin to the right)</div>
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Speed to the present. I have run numerous races with my running club teammates and have had even more great training runs with them. I ran for almost an entire year with one maybe two friends- and now I have a phone full of contacts that I can run with. Or hang out with. Or both. These people have brought me through the longest race of my life- pacing for 20 long cold miles on the erie canal toe path. I have seen them all break personal records- most recently in the Buffalo Marathon and Half marathon. They are even traveling out 3 hours to watch me race in the gorges of Ithaca. I often think, "Wow, what if I had never ran that race. None of this would have happened."<br />
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(Nate B left and Andy C right)</div>
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Again, I really don't think that God cares much about running, but I can't call this a coincidence. So if you find yourself training alone- you don't have to be. If you find yourself doing almost <i>any</i> activity alone- you don't have to be. Join a club. Get involved. And let fate take care of the rest.<br />
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In a world where many struggle to make meaningful relationships after high school or college- I can say that that I have made life long friends in my running club. When I entertain the thought of moving after I receive my masters degree I think, "I wonder what the running clubs are like?"<br />
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(thank you to all the people of BNAC, PAC, and Runaway runners- and all the other wonderful people I have met at races and on the trails. I am so glad to be part of such a wonderful community)<br />
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(Andy left and Lynn right)</div>
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ALSO:<br />
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A very special congratulations to my close friend since freshman year of high school- Mike Wach. He finished his first marathon this week and I could not be prouder. You are great friend, a great medical student, and now I can honestly say- A GREAT RUNNER. Keep setting high goals- there is nothing you can't achieve.<br />
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Be well and ALWAYS run your own race. </div>
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<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00080063694887332066noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6535523699202441238.post-84647041475090600052014-05-05T04:28:00.001-07:002014-05-05T04:28:09.673-07:00Digging Deep 5/4/14<div>
Marathon training will get a person prepared for the physical challenge of running 26.2 miles.</div>
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What marathon training will not teach you is how to dig deep within yourself during points of total psychological agony and mental anguish. </div>
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Let me tell you about my marathon.</div>
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Prior to the marathon I had been feeling depressed. I had been studying for hours non stop, tapering my runs, not drinking alcohol or coffee, and feeling unwanted in a relationship. More negative thoughts flooded my brain that week than ever before. The voices in my head kept telling me that I would fail. I could not become my own advocate. To make matters worse I had strained my calf just 6 days prior to my race and had been icing it religiously. I had brought many of my anxieties and worries to Toronto, hoping to let them die or figure them out on the course. In actuality, I did neither. </div>
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When the gun went off at 7:30 am on Sunday morning- I had not a confident bone in my body. My gps watch was malfunctioned from the get go, telling me that I was running 4:53 miles at one point and then 8:43 miles just seconds later. After mile 3 there were at least 80 people ahead of me. </div>
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I ran up beside a man with a large faced watch and asked, "hey! How fast are we running?" He told me 4 minutes per kilometer. </div>
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Crap. Now I have to do math? I decided to switch my watch over to time elapsed so I could monitor how long it was taking me to reach the halfway point. </div>
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My parents who had driven me to the race never actually made it to the marathon course. They had been misguided and waited for me at the half marathon course which was miles away. I wanted to see them so bad. It just wasn't meant to happen.</div>
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At the 10k mark my calf started to feel funky. Each step made it feel as though the tendons nearest my knee were beginning to splay. I looked down to see if there was any noticeable swelling. None. The show went on.</div>
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I had been eating gels and gummys every 4 miles, which I had trained my body to do on the tempo runs. Unfortunately, non of my tempo runs were 26.2 miles- so when mile 17 hit the latest gel started to flow up my esophagus and onto my jersey. Luckily there was a water station nearby and I rinsed my mouth with gatorade. </div>
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At mile 17 I wanted to quit. I wanted to sit in the grass, let everyone pass me, and wallow in my own filth. I kept moving at a rapidly deteriorating pace and toyed with the idea of failure. But that wasn't the plan.</div>
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Out of nowhere this skinny dark haired man hopped onto the course and shouted to me- "Lets go guy! Im bringing you in." He had a running piny on that said Black Lungs Running Club on the front and "way" on the back. The guy coached me through the last 6.5 miles-staying just a few seconds ahead of me, grabbing me water at each station, counting down the kilometers left in the race and overall building my self esteem. </div>
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"Who the hell is this guy?" I thought. In a race of over 2000 people why <i>me</i>? Did I look that bad out there? </div>
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I really couldn't think too much of it until he shook my hand with 200 meters to go and said, "Go bring it on home man. Finish what you started." I sped to the finish line and he darted off the course.</div>
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When the race ended I mentally broke down. In the corral of people heading to the after party I leaned against the gated fence and wept. My hyperventilating made it feel as though I had wind knocked out of me. A stranger who was behind me in the race grabbed my shoulders and hugged me. We exchanged no words. </div>
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I felt as though God had intervened in that race, but Im hesitant to fully admit that. Why God would care about meaningless marathon is what I struggle to understand- but nonetheless I feel as though it was not a mere coincidence. That man was an angel to me. </div>
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When I saw my parents and youngest brother at the finish I hugged them, cried, and tried to say something but I couldn't. I felt as though my organs had been removed from my abdomen, my insides were absent. I felt a strange sense of hollowness.</div>
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When I returned home that night, the relationship that had recently been a huge stressor was abruptly pulled from me. The other person I'm sure wanted to pick another day, but there is never a good day for bad news. </div>
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The hollowness expanded. My insides were gone. I felt incredibly light. </div>
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May 4th 2014 dug deep into me, but it did not dig through me. If you know me at all- it takes more than a broken heart, broken body, or broken hope to get me to lay down. The world can rattle my spine and I would wake up the next day accepting a new challenge. Just. Keep. Swimming. </div>
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In conclusion:</div>
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I want to let all who are running their first marathon, half marathon, 5k or are taking on a new career/lifestyle change that you need to dig deep to accomplish your goals. When you dig to the core of yourself you will be free to accept the help of others and build a positive image of yourself. And when you do, you will create a masterpiece. </div>
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Stay well and ALWAYS run your own race. </div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00080063694887332066noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6535523699202441238.post-40779487532054880612014-04-22T19:54:00.000-07:002014-04-23T05:41:47.346-07:00Who are endurance athletes?<br />
With the Boston Marathon fresh in our minds, many people are asking, "who are these endurance athletes?"<br />
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I remember the reaction of a woman that I work with responding to me telling her I was paying to run a marathon- " ARE YOU OUT OF YOUR MIND?? Paying to run 20 some odd miles? Your a lunatic!"<br />
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But endurance athletes aren't just those of us who lace up our shoes and head to the roads. Endurance athletes are people that look to the future ahead and <i>need </i>things that are going to last. Our shoes, our legs, our lungs, and our social support has to last us the distance. Our minds must be as healthy as our bodies- neither can be broken.<br />
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<o:p> </o:p>In the, "throw away" culture we live in, an endurance athlete needs to find things of value and longevity. For as in running as in life, "its not how you start, but its how you finish."</div>
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The hours training, the sweat, the blisters, the heavy breathing- its for a purpose. Its for a goal. Same goes for the student that spends countless hours studying his discipline, the father working long hours to support his family, the actress performing pro bono to make a name for herself.<br />
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It is we who strive for better, because mediocre won't cut it.<br />
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Id like to take this opportunity to tell you about my favorite endurance athlete of all time: my grandfather who I affectionately call "Nonno". And although he jogs on his treadmill for 30 minutes a day, thats not the kind of endurance I'm talking about.<br />
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My grandfather started working when he was in middle school- laying bricks, pouring concrete, and waiting on tables. He worked all throughout college, eventually receiving a PHD in education and marrying a woman whom he was madly in love with. They started a lovely family and my grandfather took on more responsibilities at his work- while always maintaining time for his family. Years later when I was born, my grandfather phased out of his work to spend more time with his new family member. He even took up painting lessons so that he could instill the gift of art in his grandchildren. When he found out that his wife had become sick with a neurological illness my grandfather was a hero. He took care of her at the house for as long as he humanly could- and when the time went for her to leave the house, my grandfather never spent a day away from her. He usually went twice a day, bringing flowers and jokes to my grandmother all the other residents of the facility. My grandfather had done all he humanly could to care for and love his wife- and that is why I believe he will one day receive his heavenly <i>reward</i>.<br />
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So although the striated muscles and flashy jerseys may come to your mind when you here about endurance athletes, try not to forget all those who do not just survive life- but <i>endure</i> it.<br />
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I hope to one day be half a great as my grandfather- but I know that it will take lots and lots of training.<br />
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Thank you to all who inspire- whether, in the classroom, in our living rooms, or at the workplace. You are the endurance athletes of the world. And you sure as heck can run, if you ever care to.<br />
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Be well, and always run your own race :)<br />
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Inspired by my grandfather Anthony Lorenzetti :) </div>
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I am so blessed to have you in my life, and even more so to have you in my name forever.</div>
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Zachary Anthony Lorenzetti Tomasik</div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00080063694887332066noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6535523699202441238.post-24614917262893448322014-04-08T16:06:00.000-07:002014-04-08T16:06:26.086-07:00Im not that sentimental... But happy 1 year anniversay Im not a sentimental guy.... but when I looked at the calendar and realized that it was coming up on 1 year since I ran my first ultra marathon, I got a little mushy.<br />
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Mannnnnn- that was 1 year ago? Boy how the time flies.<br />
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I had done the 6 hour BPAC race in amherst New York to raise money for a scholarship fund commemorating friend of mine who had passed away just 2 months earlier. I was not in great running shape. I had run a marathon 3 years prior and had beaten old running shoes (vibram five fingers with holes in the bottom). To top it all off I had one of my best friends weddings the night prior.<br />
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Old shoes. Booze. Not great running shape. You do the math.<br />
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But the unexpected happened. The weather was beautiful, the people were friendly, and I was off. 10 miles into the run, I heard a women yelling for me. It was the mother of girl who went to prom with my deceased friend. I hadn't seen her in years- but I was wearing a shirt with my friends face on it to honor him. She jogged with me and we recounted the wonderful moments we had had with our friend. She pledged to donate to his scholarship fund and then quickly added, "your looking great, you better move on ahead."<br />
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So I did. For 22.4 more miles.<br />
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The race ended- but the pure bliss I experienced didn't. The sense of achievement was unreal. Although I was sore and hungry, the back of my brain was saying, "when are we going to do that again."<br />
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The weeks that followed that race were rough. I suffered a foot injury and stupidly ran the buffalo marathon- only worsening the condition. A week of rest, a slow acclimation back to the trails and I was back to my old self. I even went on a "we both thought it wasn't but it probably was" running date when I recovered. We still run to this day- minus either of us being injured. And now we do call them running dates.<br />
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So I have to say sorry to my Mom and Dad for making them worry on my 4 hour long jaunts. Although my Mom always tells me I have to stop, she has been there for some of my biggest and longest races. She prays for me daily and I try to reassure her that I'm not totally crazy- but probably over 50 %.<br />
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My Dad drove all the way to Syracuse to watch me run a 50k only to find out that I had finished a solid 55 minutes before I thought I would. He made it up to me by taking me out to the Dinosaur BBQ. He has even started jogging on the treadmill and talks about entering a 5k this summer. I totally support him, and every time I see him finish a run we both have to smile at each other.<br />
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I couldn't have done it without you guys, the love you have shown me has given me the confidence and determination to accomplish any task I put my mind to.<br />
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To my sister and older of the younger brothers Alex- we have enjoyed some great conversations on jogs and I feel as though it has been great bonding for our family. I hope that more of those moments are in our future.<br />
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To my littlest brother Luke- we've got some time to fit in a bro to bro jog in. Its coming, don't you worry.<br />
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So stay safe this spring, enjoy the warmer air, and always run your own race.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhraCAJ4VycnzHB3opP_oUlQICkKpWVG43GW4N_lnDqv6XQDFhOz_cPXjvKGWDdxY7iDVyBYutvL9RUQ_46cpN22uFWyBt16rJ3VqIOa6HZkV57jhNBTbMQSdVS1a8SyLZ_m5c-yD-nkRfo/s1600/IMG_1522.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhraCAJ4VycnzHB3opP_oUlQICkKpWVG43GW4N_lnDqv6XQDFhOz_cPXjvKGWDdxY7iDVyBYutvL9RUQ_46cpN22uFWyBt16rJ3VqIOa6HZkV57jhNBTbMQSdVS1a8SyLZ_m5c-yD-nkRfo/s1600/IMG_1522.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00080063694887332066noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6535523699202441238.post-38165033004390726782014-04-02T19:43:00.002-07:002014-04-02T19:43:58.218-07:00A picture can say a thousand words <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEie2daQUG9dveKXic56TdegeJzne3RTf80rdQ2_DDLgEnkU6XXda6ixh1E8lh3vMcOIgiz_VFcHaFmQt3xQtyLaFyZzeoURysZIdaUDHyRdwhbUHnpI7SXja8pa6kXBzcp5-h6B9EklgFtq/s1600/100_0310.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEie2daQUG9dveKXic56TdegeJzne3RTf80rdQ2_DDLgEnkU6XXda6ixh1E8lh3vMcOIgiz_VFcHaFmQt3xQtyLaFyZzeoURysZIdaUDHyRdwhbUHnpI7SXja8pa6kXBzcp5-h6B9EklgFtq/s1600/100_0310.JPG" height="237" width="320" /></a></div>
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(just woken up preteen zach and angelic luke)</div>
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We live in a competitive world. Our achievements, looks, actions and deeds are constantly compared to those of others. Do we comply with standards? What is our rank? Where do we fall within the standards? What does God think of us? The list continues. It never ends.</div>
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But where are we compared to where we were yesterday? Last week? Last year? Why don't we keep up with our own development of character? Why don't we honestly ask ourselves, " am I in a better place? Am I a better person?"</div>
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The answer is simple: because its hard. </div>
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One of the most useful functions I have on my iPhone is the iPhoto app. It categorizes your photos by when they were taken. I dare you to look back a year ago. Go onto a social media site you subscribe to and look at old photos. They are like graveyards, digital artifacts with context. </div>
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Look at that person- and look at the current person you are now. How are <i>you </i>compared to you?</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8GThIkaEuxi_RqXAIm71b5QcJZoH0Lkum1W5OIbqE2qnklt2sPWRHxiJ1IcAROM_84nCJ_FeOgxRe1tfuR6Gr2sQCaWdQxyMFyX16bHiDxUpv9gyCurK2SgrrbCLg-tlnW49iRVeleByF/s1600/100_0010.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8GThIkaEuxi_RqXAIm71b5QcJZoH0Lkum1W5OIbqE2qnklt2sPWRHxiJ1IcAROM_84nCJ_FeOgxRe1tfuR6Gr2sQCaWdQxyMFyX16bHiDxUpv9gyCurK2SgrrbCLg-tlnW49iRVeleByF/s1600/100_0010.JPG" height="236" width="320" /></a></div>
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(crappy teenage zach)</div>
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This idea came to me for a few reasons:</div>
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Last week marks the one year anniversary of my introduction to distance running. The obsession began in Hamilton Ontario at the Race around the Bay and hasn't stopped since. People think that my love for running is old- its not. I went from a medically obese youngster who took daily asthma medication to an ultra marathon runner. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlY-Mxvwm0_7sSKOuCAXW99VWjeH1_ry9f8OjKXGcmDXWjQrDAQDaIDDcmqg9HecnS8xNIf7zefjeovxWa0BUPqvWcLxLp5zGw74RD3XMi72MwyssCR6dj-tUC59lkznvgMQGLxFnP4yg9/s1600/IMG_0881.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlY-Mxvwm0_7sSKOuCAXW99VWjeH1_ry9f8OjKXGcmDXWjQrDAQDaIDDcmqg9HecnS8xNIf7zefjeovxWa0BUPqvWcLxLp5zGw74RD3XMi72MwyssCR6dj-tUC59lkznvgMQGLxFnP4yg9/s1600/IMG_0881.JPG" height="150" width="200" /></a></div>
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(happy current zach)</div>
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I have also been writing a paper on human suffering and have gathered interviews from friends. The interviews are touching, they remind me how much people I love have been through in the last year. It has taught me how much a persons life can change in an instant, just a matter of seconds can make all the world to someone. <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKe7fkTepK7ZKq0wrdq0IUPdtcJs3dBsjEA6BjqDGH8eNS9MrxS71Rcx_GV8Is_aYs-VV3UadD7ptTpsFtGRtbpJNDDgmGZxBj58tlQ4Vu44hUgcujFBItgQCYaQCE3bQiJnxnuoVgFd7M/s1600/DSCN1302.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKe7fkTepK7ZKq0wrdq0IUPdtcJs3dBsjEA6BjqDGH8eNS9MrxS71Rcx_GV8Is_aYs-VV3UadD7ptTpsFtGRtbpJNDDgmGZxBj58tlQ4Vu44hUgcujFBItgQCYaQCE3bQiJnxnuoVgFd7M/s1600/DSCN1302.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
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(hippy high school zach)</div>
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I have also returned to confession this lent after nearly a year. I have struggled with attending mass and being engaged with my faith since leaving the University at Buffalo. A few bright reminders have been placed in my life and have inspired me to return. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4DwnS512sCix4oEO_FNR2Ow_NRTe5QGij3eK5iXJXWPXtk6fm60hzHKr3UhuHUZ-0xUC6-1hETfWmRONtEIoP-z0zkcChicfp0sOHMm3flLuO2f52pCXd00KJrpy6Xi2jvomVurUtz-d7/s1600/slide0053_image123.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4DwnS512sCix4oEO_FNR2Ow_NRTe5QGij3eK5iXJXWPXtk6fm60hzHKr3UhuHUZ-0xUC6-1hETfWmRONtEIoP-z0zkcChicfp0sOHMm3flLuO2f52pCXd00KJrpy6Xi2jvomVurUtz-d7/s1600/slide0053_image123.jpg" height="200" width="125" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-PoE60F_urmudKVt4r9JIW8owhhUQqoixfQDIgEwKJXzMZCfQUV51nnTvdLmcszdXmo0fmwM9PBVd4zcdMreKVkE03OH6DmMfnPNMQwpIYvIGIVYJxJzEMGF2a76M_-gEdTMDJZ1z3dsO/s1600/image120.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-PoE60F_urmudKVt4r9JIW8owhhUQqoixfQDIgEwKJXzMZCfQUV51nnTvdLmcszdXmo0fmwM9PBVd4zcdMreKVkE03OH6DmMfnPNMQwpIYvIGIVYJxJzEMGF2a76M_-gEdTMDJZ1z3dsO/s1600/image120.jpg" height="200" width="195" /></a>(happy chunky zach)</div>
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I am also a few months from starting the most difficult part of my Physicians Assistant education. The mere fact that a board of people selected me to take on this task is amazing enough- now I have to bare my teeth and grind through it. Most of my adolescent life I wanted to amount to nothing, soon I will be in direct care of peoples lives. It is a task I do not take lightly. </div>
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Conclusion: </div>
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Use the resources you have to a look at yourself. Try to remember those feelings. Get analytical. Make a plan, if you don't already have one. And for cryin out loud enjoy the person you are! Embrace yourself- in the present, past, and future. You made it this far, you can make it anywhere. There are far too many people that will beat you down in life- you've got to become your own fan. </div>
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<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqiieRogcNFUGZAVEqDyyE0JnCJpFvVvTpoBKZRzbh6pJ1Luo7JEn4eyyCA-8-e7ejJLTo146LmOqFZq5JZIv2eJneSFngLL3QhpcTSjCxDdfKBqs5jANwdROUTWgAlltyA3xA7IeaRQrY/s1600/DSCN0985.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqiieRogcNFUGZAVEqDyyE0JnCJpFvVvTpoBKZRzbh6pJ1Luo7JEn4eyyCA-8-e7ejJLTo146LmOqFZq5JZIv2eJneSFngLL3QhpcTSjCxDdfKBqs5jANwdROUTWgAlltyA3xA7IeaRQrY/s1600/DSCN0985.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
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(happy hungry zach)</div>
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<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzwsRz3YIHuIYJyasIorV1C6ezWFtX7X5rIXm5NzQtNjSPNK8mKWHmqHeBIlqBLe7xBu2EQmki-JlGvabsurd8O0DqSsbv1Y2AosH6Ru2Mj-sFdttOpk9L4O8InlOj964cEvGRGzj7i75O/s1600/IMG_1041.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzwsRz3YIHuIYJyasIorV1C6ezWFtX7X5rIXm5NzQtNjSPNK8mKWHmqHeBIlqBLe7xBu2EQmki-JlGvabsurd8O0DqSsbv1Y2AosH6Ru2Mj-sFdttOpk9L4O8InlOj964cEvGRGzj7i75O/s1600/IMG_1041.jpg" height="320" width="320" /></a></div>
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(happy, sweaty and tired zach and julia)</div>
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And remember,<span style="text-align: center;">always run your own race. </span></div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00080063694887332066noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6535523699202441238.post-50439389721481848162014-03-26T06:48:00.000-07:002014-03-26T12:32:36.280-07:00Trying to turn molehills into mountains: The tragedy at Terrapin The first thing I thought when I signed up for the Terrapin Mountain 50k was, "man, I need to do more hill work."<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQzyYVrvE-V4QLuUzIh9quP-54qeqO2KdmkNpq1U5t4WnEOXJNVveJQO6RX9Ah78URLni43OQq1i5ZCkeJLpoWGXHYz20bjGBujhKNgJxDjoYaqhnMfbWQT3Ad6E5GbYNO7_DYqitIg8bX/s1600/image-3.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQzyYVrvE-V4QLuUzIh9quP-54qeqO2KdmkNpq1U5t4WnEOXJNVveJQO6RX9Ah78URLni43OQq1i5ZCkeJLpoWGXHYz20bjGBujhKNgJxDjoYaqhnMfbWQT3Ad6E5GbYNO7_DYqitIg8bX/s1600/image-3.jpeg" height="320" width="217" /></a></div>
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So I did. I ran up and down the tiny little hills of western new york at sub seven minute pace every week- boosting my confidence and supposedly preparing my body. Zach was feeling good. Then I saw the mountain.<br />
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Julia and I arrived in Sedailia Virginia just a little past 7:30 pm to set up camp and head in for the night. When I got out of the car and looked at the Mountain my heart sank a little bit. "That might be a different mountain... Yeah. Were probably just running a portion of it. Piece of cake."<br />
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My friend Nick (an ultra running FREAK) had already set up his tent when we arrived and within minutes of us embracing he pointed to the very mountain that I had seen and dreaded and said, "Thats Terrapin. Thats what were running tomorrow." Now my heart was somewhere in my scrotum.<br />
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The lack of preparation doesn't end there. I was running in a water belt that I had never worn before in my life, smart wool socks on a day that turned out to be 70 degrees, and a long sleeve rossignol ski top. I also decided to wear New Balance Minimus sneakers- which on such a rugged terrain (compared to the trails in WNY) tore my feet up. I was screaming obscenities alone on the trail hoping that Ibuprofen would fall from the sky like manna from heaven. Or even just a pair of conventional shoes? God? Are you listening to me?<br />
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Oh, but you wanted to hear about my race? Here it goes.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBVj30fpFG-LTHxrH6QKKyZX9gy43U_cQ7KHHennIVE7HrT0GC4-feAhMZjronLuIXpzwXWi_MVq0FdLeIkbt-PYXDmOnN9E_Ql93m9aVtEzEvy-kCxZ7zTKP49Id5qzlRmh9nVW1iGNvW/s1600/image-10.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBVj30fpFG-LTHxrH6QKKyZX9gy43U_cQ7KHHennIVE7HrT0GC4-feAhMZjronLuIXpzwXWi_MVq0FdLeIkbt-PYXDmOnN9E_Ql93m9aVtEzEvy-kCxZ7zTKP49Id5qzlRmh9nVW1iGNvW/s1600/image-10.jpeg" height="320" width="320" /></a></div>
I actually started out a nice moderate pace, hanging in the middle of the pack, sipping water, being a socialite.<br />
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I stayed with Nick til about mile 10- when he got into his race mode, lost connection with all things that surrounded him and turned on the after burners. Nick finished top ten.<br />
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Julia had a busy morning asking all people associated with the race where she could come meet up with me and help pace for a few miles. The race director advised her to drive to the first aid station up the road and go from there. She picked me up at around mile 6 and ran with me. Straight uphill. Needless to say, her legs were hurting that next day.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgipQ16a-AC0P_xjv5oErkwZq5OlnARXcRUM6akdg1I3nEni9KzE4LwEAY3bcKrLwUfRgtjEffqN9BxqeK4Y-pgBya2u1ow0SvIn7gzjKdTKJUw5q7Y4H9rZ7tuE4MkiKQ_rxSQ5lbtAw-M/s1600/image-4.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgipQ16a-AC0P_xjv5oErkwZq5OlnARXcRUM6akdg1I3nEni9KzE4LwEAY3bcKrLwUfRgtjEffqN9BxqeK4Y-pgBya2u1ow0SvIn7gzjKdTKJUw5q7Y4H9rZ7tuE4MkiKQ_rxSQ5lbtAw-M/s1600/image-4.jpeg" height="200" width="200" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeEa7eDfXEZNtUt_T4HLpMpiX8EPRHoinUASSV-Rg6ERxbuMzH0ooeAl6sB5uGwsSfIx1gRF2F0QQqj-Ej2W1INlZezvQd8bM62JqcxtWgrZu11WCbAQujQsEbnqp8bV7nfj5SF3w3U6dd/s1600/image-5.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeEa7eDfXEZNtUt_T4HLpMpiX8EPRHoinUASSV-Rg6ERxbuMzH0ooeAl6sB5uGwsSfIx1gRF2F0QQqj-Ej2W1INlZezvQd8bM62JqcxtWgrZu11WCbAQujQsEbnqp8bV7nfj5SF3w3U6dd/s1600/image-5.jpeg" height="200" width="200" /></a></div>
With Nick and Julia at my side I felt great. The ground was soft and the jagged stones were few at that point. I was moving 9 minute pace up most of the hills and clocked at top speed of 6:14 minute miles down the hills we had just ascended.<br />
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At mile 11 Julia and Nick were both gone and the course got harder. It was very humbling knowing that in order to survive the event- lots of walking needed to be done. Looking at my GPS watch seeing the pace come up as 17:41 miles is disheartening. Then you step on a rock and you want to scream. I did that for about 4 more hours.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8A9Or49-_xj2RyTgybQnCpAm40MD8XS2NiGaqfLKZeDbJfEFrOmf0uUdynjxqMAokL2mF3VgsptTQMlfbPqhEF8jbYJhDzX3jzZ7sw5KsJTmiS90OmpL3tEtFU9s1n8gIYWnjV0vPvq8d/s1600/image-7.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8A9Or49-_xj2RyTgybQnCpAm40MD8XS2NiGaqfLKZeDbJfEFrOmf0uUdynjxqMAokL2mF3VgsptTQMlfbPqhEF8jbYJhDzX3jzZ7sw5KsJTmiS90OmpL3tEtFU9s1n8gIYWnjV0vPvq8d/s1600/image-7.jpeg" height="320" width="320" /></a></div>
I met some very interesting people on the course. Some professors from Liberty college, a 21 year old VT college student who was in their ultra marathon club (which was stacked might I add), and man from North Carolina with a thick accent and lots of ultra marathon stories. Those were the people that pushed me through this event. Had I been alone for that long, despair would have set in and the wheels would have fallen off.<br />
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The aid station volunteers were also a crucial element of this race. They were like angels- through the combination of the heat, altitude change, and exhaustion they all looked like they were glowing to me. That was my cue to rehydrate. In ultras, glowing lights are bad- unless its the finish line of an event that spans the entire day.<br />
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In summary- heres my race. I was unprepared. I wore stupid clothes. Wrong shoes. I met cool people. Had amazing support. Ate a phenomenal dinner that night. Drank 2 beers. It felt like 12. Got a cool tee shirt. The end.<br />
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The lesson learned here is this:<br />
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You may be able to substitute avocado for butter in a baking recipe, but you cannot substitute hills for mountains when it comes to an ultra marathon recipe.<br />
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Peace out- and always remember to run your own race.<br />
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Photos courtesy of Julia Smith :) My pacer of both the Terrapin Mountain 50k and Beast of Burden 50 miler. She also drove me home after this race. Props. <br />
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<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00080063694887332066noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6535523699202441238.post-46004004757103154092014-01-20T07:31:00.001-08:002014-01-21T05:16:29.314-08:00Who really wins an Ultra Marathon Although the records only list the names of the runners crossing the finish line at an Ultra Marathon, it would be wrong to say that anyone did it alone. I'll speak for myself.<br />
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From as long as I can remember, my parents were always telling me that I could do anything I wanted to. I would test this, " So Mom and Dad, your saying that I could be an astronaut AND paleontologist that plays in the NBA for the Orlando Magic?" </div>
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The answer was always the same- "If thats what you really want to do, then yes." So when I told my parents that I was running a 50 mile race in January, they supported me 100%. When I saw them and my friend Julia holding signs for me at the 38.5 mile mark I thought to myself, "This is what it's all about." </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhk-q2fIRW7cVN5lMS0uELOHIGzaolUwVoGRStBDs_aM0AMA1DsmpdQDgK4NHW_yp0dJ1s4w_Iv31CqGz7I9tRvZUE5vH42GxGbi23M-FSBLLxUpcWZI-j9RqTpR7lJe5AXw9Hkr2NEQLp9/s1600/1519747_10202953050530320_48338023_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhk-q2fIRW7cVN5lMS0uELOHIGzaolUwVoGRStBDs_aM0AMA1DsmpdQDgK4NHW_yp0dJ1s4w_Iv31CqGz7I9tRvZUE5vH42GxGbi23M-FSBLLxUpcWZI-j9RqTpR7lJe5AXw9Hkr2NEQLp9/s1600/1519747_10202953050530320_48338023_o.jpg" height="211" width="320" /></a></div>
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I've also been blessed with amazing friends who have always had my back. I mean, three of them showed up to run 20 miles with me in a windchill of sub 10 degrees. My friends are all working their butts off to achieve their goals- and thats what keeps me cracking at mine. We don't need to coddle each other, we just tip our hats and know we've done our best. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgM3gTxPeliugb9BtwU6w5jghsZglIpbZOUAo9rYj-YMjmupzWPL8h8hzn5jbPzo9oLBj8xFa_Hwt9xeAjIz-lUKeIg9yFCMQxC30vyh99zRs6a_m92kne8mqrGhzho383_Q01_ETGQuuRs/s1600/1529833_10202953048610272_2097724807_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgM3gTxPeliugb9BtwU6w5jghsZglIpbZOUAo9rYj-YMjmupzWPL8h8hzn5jbPzo9oLBj8xFa_Hwt9xeAjIz-lUKeIg9yFCMQxC30vyh99zRs6a_m92kne8mqrGhzho383_Q01_ETGQuuRs/s1600/1529833_10202953048610272_2097724807_o.jpg" height="215" width="320" /></a></div>
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The friend who inspired me to do these races is always there with me on the course, in my jacket or pockets of my shorts. I hold a picture of him, and the picture reminds me of how much he would tease and haggle me if I even entertained the thought of quitting. He was always a ball buster. Although he has passed on, he is very present in my darkest and most lonesome moments of these races.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAGdWbhII0v4encjsQNrekYOh1Svgoc1xj1QE58x0zcigw9O8D82CgAgkFgiECHH1rjQC1B8rZQem_YTBW9DK8TZgbrCA8ZA9S9M0znlz6OT4vbBYjBSEoLgYs3qE9FbkO48FljzNxB3k4/s1600/1604947_10151910832183499_1360608899_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAGdWbhII0v4encjsQNrekYOh1Svgoc1xj1QE58x0zcigw9O8D82CgAgkFgiECHH1rjQC1B8rZQem_YTBW9DK8TZgbrCA8ZA9S9M0znlz6OT4vbBYjBSEoLgYs3qE9FbkO48FljzNxB3k4/s1600/1604947_10151910832183499_1360608899_n.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
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So who wins an Ultra Marathon? I'll tell you.</div>
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Your family.</div>
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Your friends.</div>
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People who you see struggling in life, but push on despite the pain.</div>
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Young couples trying their best to be great parents.</div>
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Friends who have passed on. </div>
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The race volunteers. The people taking photos of you. The people who at mile 50 ask, "wanna do a jello shot?"</div>
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The stranger in your life that tells you to push on.</div>
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The little engine who COULD.</div>
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Your failed romantic pursuits/disappointments/etc.</div>
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Then you. </div>
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And thats the cold truth. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqhh6DLughBeIp3dAOf_VQASGgQVCJpz1pnO0mfBnTbbJZI_AFMKpkNkg3IiM9GKBkiwpT1wxqGhUmD2mbh4ZdBVpiYUhxOvCL1yu6EDsKbNta_n6x27xwliC2ZrT0UQRA4fzoS4odBFxa/s1600/1556361_10151911294218499_219466308_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqhh6DLughBeIp3dAOf_VQASGgQVCJpz1pnO0mfBnTbbJZI_AFMKpkNkg3IiM9GKBkiwpT1wxqGhUmD2mbh4ZdBVpiYUhxOvCL1yu6EDsKbNta_n6x27xwliC2ZrT0UQRA4fzoS4odBFxa/s1600/1556361_10151911294218499_219466308_o.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
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BEAST OF BURDEN 50 mile race Jan 18th 2014 :) Thank you race volunteers, directors, and new friends!</div>
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photos compliments of kino : (<a href="http://www.kinosfault.com/">http://www.kinosfault.com</a>) Thanks a ton!</div>
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A very special thank you to the dashing whippets running team and all those who accomplished the beast or helped make the beast happen!<br />
<span data-ft="{"tn":"K"}" data-reactid=".r[3t].[1][3][1]{comment659530934111092_5642973}[0].[0].{right}.[0].{left}.[0].[0].[0][3]" style="background-color: #edeff4; color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; line-height: 14px;"><span data-reactid=".r[3t].[1][3][1]{comment659530934111092_5642973}[0].[0].{right}.[0].{left}.[0].[0].[0][3].[0]"><a aria-haspopup="true" aria-owns="js_21" class="profileLink" data-hovercard="/ajax/hovercard/hovercard.php?id=100002856771075&extragetparams=%7B%22hc_location%22%3A%22ufi%22%7D" data-reactid=".r[3t].[1][3][1]{comment659530934111092_5642973}[0].[0].{right}.[0].{left}.[0].[0].[0][3].[0].{interpolator2}[0]" dir="ltr" href="https://www.facebook.com/joe.delconte.9" id="js_22" style="color: #3b5998; cursor: pointer; text-decoration: none;" target="_blank">Joe Del Conte</a></span></span><br />
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<span data-ft="{"tn":"K"}" data-reactid=".r[3t].[1][3][1]{comment659530934111092_5642973}[0].[0].{right}.[0].{left}.[0].[0].[0][3]" style="background-color: #edeff4; color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; line-height: 14px;"><span data-reactid=".r[3t].[1][3][1]{comment659530934111092_5642973}[0].[0].{right}.[0].{left}.[0].[0].[0][3].[0]"><a class="profileLink" data-hovercard="/ajax/hovercard/hovercard.php?id=421094&extragetparams=%7B%22hc_location%22%3A%22ufi%22%7D" data-reactid=".r[3t].[1][3][1]{comment659530934111092_5642973}[0].[0].{right}.[0].{left}.[0].[0].[0][3].[0].{interpolator4}[0]" dir="ltr" href="https://www.facebook.com/lisaminc" style="color: #3b5998; cursor: pointer; text-decoration: none;" target="_blank">Lisa Cao</a></span></span><br />
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<span data-ft="{"tn":"K"}" data-reactid=".r[3t].[1][3][1]{comment659530934111092_5642973}[0].[0].{right}.[0].{left}.[0].[0].[0][3]" style="background-color: #edeff4; color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; line-height: 14px;"><span data-reactid=".r[3t].[1][3][1]{comment659530934111092_5642973}[0].[0].{right}.[0].{left}.[0].[0].[0][3].[0]"><a class="profileLink" data-hovercard="/ajax/hovercard/hovercard.php?id=751093824&extragetparams=%7B%22hc_location%22%3A%22ufi%22%7D" data-reactid=".r[3t].[1][3][1]{comment659530934111092_5642973}[0].[0].{right}.[0].{left}.[0].[0].[0][3].[0].{interpolator7}[0]" dir="ltr" href="https://www.facebook.com/tigerellen" style="color: #3b5998; cursor: pointer; text-decoration: none;" target="_blank">Tiger Ellen</a></span></span><br />
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<span data-ft="{"tn":"K"}" data-reactid=".r[3t].[1][3][1]{comment659530934111092_5642973}[0].[0].{right}.[0].{left}.[0].[0].[0][3]" style="background-color: #edeff4; color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; line-height: 14px;"><span data-reactid=".r[3t].[1][3][1]{comment659530934111092_5642973}[0].[0].{right}.[0].{left}.[0].[0].[0][3].[0]"><span data-reactid=".r[3t].[1][3][1]{comment659530934111092_5642973}[0].[0].{right}.[0].{left}.[0].[0].[0][3].[0].{fragment9}[0]{0}[0]"> </span><a class="profileLink" data-hovercard="/ajax/hovercard/hovercard.php?id=100005193723435&extragetparams=%7B%22hc_location%22%3A%22ufi%22%7D" data-reactid=".r[3t].[1][3][1]{comment659530934111092_5642973}[0].[0].{right}.[0].{left}.[0].[0].[0][3].[0].{interpolator9}[0]" dir="ltr" href="https://www.facebook.com/beth.pease.33" style="color: #3b5998; cursor: pointer; text-decoration: none;" target="_blank">Beth Buchanan Pease</a>- thank you soooooo much for the jello shot and all your help during the race :) </span></span></div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00080063694887332066noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6535523699202441238.post-23889344834627143212014-01-14T19:23:00.001-08:002014-01-14T19:23:28.140-08:00Sweat the big stuff<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Your out pushing your body to the max, in the office getting screamed at by your boss, waiting in the surgery waiting room for a loved on, trembling at a desk while your final board exam is handed out. A bead of sweat drips down your forehead. Its on.<div>
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Many days of the week I can't tell you what I ate for breakfast, maybe thats because I wasn't sweating. Many people say, "ew" to sweat, but I say, "ah ha! sweat!" Sweat is uncomfortable, its sticky, moist and smells bad. But there is nostalgia attached- sweat happens because of something. Your senses are heightened, your blood flows and change is needed (like get me out of these clothes). Sweat occurs when your body is in some sort of overdrive, whether it be due to the stress of physical activity or anxiety. </div>
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When I sweat, I remember. I remember great times of physical achievement, times when I was terrified and times that took a combination of all my mental and physical strength to get through. So its true, "don't sweat the small stuff" if the small stuff isn't worth a sweat. Sweat the big stuff. The good stuff. The stuff worth sweating over. The stuff you care about. </div>
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You won't forget it. </div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00080063694887332066noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6535523699202441238.post-84040091996559792752014-01-09T06:52:00.000-08:002014-01-09T06:52:43.079-08:007 reasons why you should run an ultra marathon<b><span style="font-size: x-large;">7 Reasons why you should buck up, lace up those sneakers, and run until you can't feel your legs. AKA an ultra marathon.</span></b><br />
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<b>Reason # 7. Because everyone will think you are crazy:</b></div>
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<b>Its true, people will think your nuts. But this is a step up in the world. Last week, they didn't even know your name.</b><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBxwj9C5c9il2Sk1BHJzUnJurXUbPTkR9ub6_N6-ntuv3XbdM3CiC1hg6wSB6gsGTbAbOayngyKHmJj5MA2KW6qBj9xs5ofuEk11QSz6G6Ij6I3mw0JZcmCWF23rREeL7-o-WXcsCPDias/s1600/crazyperson.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBxwj9C5c9il2Sk1BHJzUnJurXUbPTkR9ub6_N6-ntuv3XbdM3CiC1hg6wSB6gsGTbAbOayngyKHmJj5MA2KW6qBj9xs5ofuEk11QSz6G6Ij6I3mw0JZcmCWF23rREeL7-o-WXcsCPDias/s1600/crazyperson.jpeg" /></a></div>
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<b>Reason # 6. Because your parents will tell you they are proud of you:</b></div>
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<b>Though they will most likely question your decision, harp on you while training, and even tell you repeatedly that they, "don't think this is healthy"- they will most likely come around in the end and say what you did was pretty cool.</b><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7Y-r-Muht_8BB1umdCllGjlqpg44asxtAp9XljQJVjqdOc6PJkXVA4-g__-hBs5zKmAx7_yXq4Bi9MoV8Bc__q2NWU7nb-buRBKffo1EzWpkujT2KdnUQsnlQ6Mm6xuZAxnEl0lBrHmP4/s1600/stock-footage-little-blonde-boy-using-a-laptop-watched-by-proud-parents.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><b><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7Y-r-Muht_8BB1umdCllGjlqpg44asxtAp9XljQJVjqdOc6PJkXVA4-g__-hBs5zKmAx7_yXq4Bi9MoV8Bc__q2NWU7nb-buRBKffo1EzWpkujT2KdnUQsnlQ6Mm6xuZAxnEl0lBrHmP4/s1600/stock-footage-little-blonde-boy-using-a-laptop-watched-by-proud-parents.jpg" height="179" width="320" /></b></a></div>
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<b>Reason # 5. You don't want to be the 1%:</b></div>
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<b>As occupy wall street taught us, the 1% is the problem. According to statistics roughly 1% of the US population has ran a marathon. Don't be the 1%. </b><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjL_Rhp8jzw7M0OnTjOjT9DMK4tqtlNV93Uk-9rN6kDlmexnS-mLhqS-Ybp1ziAjl6xV9FpOZw8-msxRTdZdopBWFGsG64ZHHXUcM-EfuyGCl-OSiQJLPTd2KVXztM9URlPBoAjUtcoFycq/s1600/nDIfC.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><b><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjL_Rhp8jzw7M0OnTjOjT9DMK4tqtlNV93Uk-9rN6kDlmexnS-mLhqS-Ybp1ziAjl6xV9FpOZw8-msxRTdZdopBWFGsG64ZHHXUcM-EfuyGCl-OSiQJLPTd2KVXztM9URlPBoAjUtcoFycq/s1600/nDIfC.jpg" height="320" width="162" /></b></a></div>
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<b>Reason # 4. When its over- you can eat anything you want:</b></div>
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<b>Thats right, when your done you can eat an entire Pizza, tub of ice cream, and pound of french fries and still not gain a pound. You probably won't, but you could. And thats pretty great. (oh you get to eat DURING the race too!)</b><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZhrB_NpLYtNKsuLekeET4T_vlQESCXjtMDRhk6d9MefHg_AxiwRSPnSkk5py7fWh1tfnZ4dlqadmRbOfLTFQulXxaCtBiYaSFSlQNVTkN1jHMxnmCbzmTES0whVLhHo7z4SMVYKIJQuFy/s1600/dsc_0154.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><b><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZhrB_NpLYtNKsuLekeET4T_vlQESCXjtMDRhk6d9MefHg_AxiwRSPnSkk5py7fWh1tfnZ4dlqadmRbOfLTFQulXxaCtBiYaSFSlQNVTkN1jHMxnmCbzmTES0whVLhHo7z4SMVYKIJQuFy/s1600/dsc_0154.jpg" height="213" width="320" /></b></a></div>
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<b>Reason #3. Because you will get an awesome shirt/hat thats lets everyone know how hardcore you are:</b></div>
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<b>Its like wearing your high school letterman jacket, or your biker jacket, or gang colors. People see what your wearing and know that your cool. Ultra marathon tee shirt with matching hat? Instant conversation starter.</b><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsdnRLSP68E_xDvhwAWlD-a4ELWN_XFyLk8z2n79CCrZT2rmdtauuisBj-Nvrkiijf-ioEE6H8bF4SxhS73eBV6-h5HeM_sblC76jHipJMhrQvsoz6ToxgraVi9OJ-mlog3tz0TxckYEfs/s1600/Hello,-I-m-Awesome-T-Shirts.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><b><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsdnRLSP68E_xDvhwAWlD-a4ELWN_XFyLk8z2n79CCrZT2rmdtauuisBj-Nvrkiijf-ioEE6H8bF4SxhS73eBV6-h5HeM_sblC76jHipJMhrQvsoz6ToxgraVi9OJ-mlog3tz0TxckYEfs/s1600/Hello,-I-m-Awesome-T-Shirts.jpg" height="320" width="320" /></b></a></div>
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<b>Reason #2. Because people of the opposite sex will find you more attractive:</b></div>
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<b>Maybe its the idea that your intense, or really fit, or that you just have a few screws loose- but people will find your amazing feat sexy. At least initially. And then they will totally forget about it. </b><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiodFS3oBF4Q7ypQivBZ1wv4vVkhQEu50Mn_tZXJEJVMiQgdzoPpZ0IhyphenhyphenPRjG-1edbhHE4AZ2zauApL0fA7tjSXEK_PriekmbxZVCa2lIh-oqAExSgaJT9lfUZV5wu_1_up31Gf8SN8-ad6/s1600/guitar_study-main.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><b><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiodFS3oBF4Q7ypQivBZ1wv4vVkhQEu50Mn_tZXJEJVMiQgdzoPpZ0IhyphenhyphenPRjG-1edbhHE4AZ2zauApL0fA7tjSXEK_PriekmbxZVCa2lIh-oqAExSgaJT9lfUZV5wu_1_up31Gf8SN8-ad6/s1600/guitar_study-main.jpg" height="213" width="320" /></b></a></div>
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<b>Reason #1. Because it FEELS SO RIGHT.</b></div>
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<b>Nothing compares to the sense of accomplishment you feel when finishing an ultra. Your worn, battered and bruised, but you cross that finish line with a big smile across your face. If the marines are right and, "Pain is weakness leaving the body", then you lose a lot of weakness after an ultra marathon. The biggest battles are mental, the biggest hills are physical, but the biggest drive is spiritual. So lace up those boots and keep on keeping on. </b><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5Xo88qMlRjKjPGkdOWCs5F6YH2sPFcCxllFH_y2wj3fJhtmS39k5wsDckn206MpfYgQcBq9nakB92zxrEUWdZ8e6-BeNrd7prpTJTXFaks_keVKhUXwTv1x6Io5IZJqEU2TD_QXunbxYQ/s1600/scr_DavidGogginsFinish.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><b><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5Xo88qMlRjKjPGkdOWCs5F6YH2sPFcCxllFH_y2wj3fJhtmS39k5wsDckn206MpfYgQcBq9nakB92zxrEUWdZ8e6-BeNrd7prpTJTXFaks_keVKhUXwTv1x6Io5IZJqEU2TD_QXunbxYQ/s1600/scr_DavidGogginsFinish.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></b></a></div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00080063694887332066noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6535523699202441238.post-51125177980494339382013-12-21T09:26:00.002-08:002013-12-21T09:26:36.578-08:00Hey there-<br />
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Its December 21st and amazon has just notified you that your Christmas gifts will be coming in on the 27th... Don't fret! Run out to the nearest pharmacy to pick out a crappy Christmas card, grab a generic gift card (maybe one for a gas station) and slap in one of these original Christmas themed raps. I've got something for everyone!<br />
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A rap for the overworked and underpaid Santa Claus<br />
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Merry Christmas dear Santa, I hope your feeling stupendous<br />
I loved your gifts for me last year, the fruit cake was tremendous<br />
I'm sure your busy as ever, making toys for the world<br />
Just wanted to make sure I'm still listed with the good boys and girls<br />
Ive done volunteer work and been a help to my mother<br />
Ive donated my clothing- read the bible cover to cover<br />
I'm sure that you know this, I must not build up myself<br />
you've most likely been told by that troll on the shelf<br />
If you can't find my list, I still accept cash<br />
I'm praying this year that you have no sleigh crash!<br />
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A rap for your mother who is hosting a huge Christmas party<br />
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Happy Holidays Mother- I hope your feeling so jolly<br />
I'm excited to see the house covered in holly<br />
Your cookings the best- better than those old foagies<br />
Your signature hams and your trademark pierogis<br />
They scent the air splendidly, for 6 hours at least<br />
Its keeps my mind focused on our succulent feast!<br />
Can I bring something this year, I could offer some wine?<br />
Last year uncle Harry brought straight turpentine.<br />
And aunt Betties bread stuffing was so bitter and dry<br />
I chewed it so hard that I started to cry<br />
But their efforts are pure, its all the intention<br />
Maybe it'll be better this year, Oh- and I'd like to mention<br />
That my girlfriends name is Megan- even though you say Meagan<br />
And were bringing our own food- we've both become vegan.<br />
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This rap is for a family member that you hardly ever see, but shows face at the Christmas Party. You know they have a job, but are unsure of what it is. They may or may not be in a relationship. They own a brown dog. Everything else is a mystery.<br />
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Merry Christmas my friend, such a long time its been,<br />
I hope your years been filled with cheer- but if not, a new ones on the bend.<br />
Hope your jobs going swell, seem to remember you really like it.<br />
I planned on buying you a sweater but are you still comfortable in tight fit?<br />
I look for forward every Christmas to the fact we'll be meeting<br />
are you still dating that guy- oh geez my memory is fleeting.<br />
You either told me he's, "the one" or that he's a massive tool<br />
Either way he's so lucky to have you- because you are really cool!<br />
And that little dog of yours, I can't remember the breed<br />
That little brown one that you dress up and shows in my news feed.<br />
I hope that Santas good to you, I have a feeling you've been nice.<br />
Now how about that weather- steer clear of black ice!<br />
My holiday letter is coming to a conclusion<br />
my name is Zach- talk to me this year and clear up all this confusion! :0<br />
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A rap for a girlfriend/boyfriend that you really like- but know the relationship is headed nowhere. You won't break up with them now, its the holidays and thats cruel, but you want a Christmas card that doesn't send too many mixed signals-yet is still somewhat kind.<br />
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Merry Christmas to you sweetie, what a year it has been<br />
I'm so lucky to know you, your a really good friend.<br />
We've had so many moments that were more than acceptable<br />
And I love that your job is somewhat respectable.<br />
When we go to the movies and you buy snacks for munching<br />
I've totally gotten used to the sound of food crunching<br />
But thats what you makes you-you, and I fully accept it<br />
And what I got your for Christmas, you wouldn't expect it<br />
Im<br />
so happy your mother invited me to your kins celebration<br />
But i'll have to decline such a kind invitation<br />
You see my family believes in the the strongest tradition<br />
Hide a pickle on the tree, and to find it is the mission<br />
It would break my Dads heart if I were to neglect the pickle<br />
You see he's very old-fashioned, some say that he's fickle<br />
Give your dad a high five for me, your mother a hug<br />
And I hope to the heavens you didn't buy me a Pug.<br />
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<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00080063694887332066noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6535523699202441238.post-77010462093868111742013-11-16T10:13:00.000-08:002013-11-16T10:13:28.985-08:00The beauty of nonsense The older I get- the less nonsense that occurs in my life.<br />
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I haven't gone to the grocery store and bought 5 pounds of hamburger meat and a loaf of bread to make a massive hamburger in years. I haven't put on funk music and danced around a trash can in a while either. I didn't even drive out to a friends house this halloween to steal a pumpkin...sigh.<br />
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My life is now linear- do this for that. While reflecting recently about my friend who has passed, I realized that we had our most memorable times while carrying out nonsense. He had asked me to work with him on a farm during the weekends, I had already had a job and wasn't terribly farm savvy, but I decided to do it. It made no sense at the time, but I was 17. Lots of things I did made no sense.<br />
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I would wake up early after working my other job the night prior and go pick up my friend for our days chores. We would pull cat tails out of the pond, re-gravel the driveway, pull weeds from the garden, cut the acres of lawn, and we even put up some vine posts for a vineyard they were going to be start. The work was rewarding, but the fun we had kept me coming back every weekend. It was in those times of nonsense when my friend would chase me with the "gator" 4 wheeler, or hide my lunch in the tool shed, or try to get me to fight another co-worker at the farm that I got to know my friend so much better.<br />
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My point is that we should all keep doing nonsense, stay young. My 17 year old brain made a decision that might not have made sense at the time- but it certainly does now. Times of nonsense are where you will form your best memories and truly connect with people. Let your guard down, don't take yourself too seriously, "acuna matatta".<br />
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<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00080063694887332066noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6535523699202441238.post-88953383649239817742013-11-05T15:44:00.000-08:002013-11-05T15:44:57.226-08:00Why I like running- and why you can too. Why I like running- And why you can too.<br />
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I like running because its the best therapy for the price, the gym with the best hours, and the adventure thats nearest my door.<br />
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In a modern age where "connections" are how many people are able to view your social or business networking profile, and food comes from a grocery store, and writing a paper means sitting at a computer and typing out paragraphs while surfing the web for legitimate (or so you hope) references- we all feel a little removed from the reality of what it is that we are really doing.<br />
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Running is different. The connection is primal. Your feet. The ground. Boom.<br />
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Sure the surfaces and shoes have changed over time but your missing the point!<br />
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You go from a warm bed, to a climate controlled car, to a school or office with lights, and your body is at ease. Its comfortable. This amazing gift that has evolved over millions of years just exists, in pleasure.<br />
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While running you leave the world of complete control and enter into chaos. If your in a park, a beautiful natural chaos. Turn off your music player and just soak in the moment, absorb all the sensations taking place. Your body is no longer at ease- its in full flight.<br />
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Don't forget to pack with you your frustrations and anxiety. Bring them, and then let them go. I can say I have never solved a problem while running, but I can come to accept things that I cannot change while running.<br />
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Some people run as fast as they can, some jog, and some walk. But I truly believe that when they return from their daily adventure- they are glad they went. :)<br />
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So lace up- and don't ever run somebody else's race<br />
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<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00080063694887332066noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6535523699202441238.post-34222717073794122662013-10-22T19:07:00.000-07:002013-10-22T19:07:11.426-07:00The fine line between "Today's the day!" and "Not today"<div>
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I have the incredible skill of talking myself out of almost anything. When your semi creative, you tend to use your talent to create elaborate excuses for not doing things. Its unfortunate.</div>
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While talking to an extremely negative person today I noticed that my own psyche started to gravitate towards theirs. "This is so hard/unfair/wrong/unjust" and "Who has the time/who cares/etc" were coming out left and right!</div>
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Thank God I noticed.</div>
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The fine line between saying, "todays the day I make a commitment towards something bigger" or saying, "I quit/won't start something new" is incredibly thin. So thin- that I don't even think it exists. </div>
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Listen to a positive person, a person with a plan and some passion. Make a commitment, take a chance. Tell that person you care about that you do. Sign up for that talent show. Apply to that job you want but don't think your qualified for. Because you know what? As lame as it may sound- you always miss 100% of the shots you never take. And if Michael Jordan didn't take that last shot (dunk with an elongated arm) in Space Jam- well he'd be in basketball slavery out in space.</div>
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Turned out OK for him. Carpe Diem. And Just. Keep. Swimming. </div>
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PS- I talked myself out of writing this post because I have an exam this week. SO glad I ignored myself. </div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00080063694887332066noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6535523699202441238.post-82236710710884328052013-07-23T20:59:00.001-07:002013-07-23T21:06:17.631-07:00Letting go of Santa Claus<br />
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Fantasy is something that brings a great deal of joy to many- young and old. It can bring hope to those without it, but it can also keep many from facing reality.<br />
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Use it with caution, and in a video game obsessed world that makes it easy to control other peoples actions realize that this is not real- or right.<br />
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So, I challenge you. Take that fantasy in the back of your mind and lay it out. Is it feasible? Are you working for it? Must you manipulate people in order for this to happen? Does it account for others feelings and desires?<br />
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Your fantasy might be a near by reality, or it may be a scheme that disregards others free will. But you need to really look it. And nine times out of ten, you need to forget about it. Life is much more exciting and invigorating when you let life happen.<br />
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As a 11 year old I listed reason after reason as to why Santa Claus existed. I couldn't let go. He had been too good to me. I had been selfishly satisfied and figured others felt the same way. I learned the truth while my mom was teaching my religion class- and I learned how painful Christmas can be for others when volunteering at a soup kitchen a few years later.<br />
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I let go of that fantasy, and I liked Christmas much more as a result. Its not easy to do, but you will be a better person for it.<br />
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take care<br />
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<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00080063694887332066noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6535523699202441238.post-16569120405665024472013-04-24T21:33:00.002-07:002013-04-24T21:33:37.990-07:00The price of pain Hello all- just following up on my last post themed, "stop pretending". One of the hardest things that I have had to accept in the recent past is that my role in another persons life may not always be what I had wanted. I cannot be every persons older sibling, or supportive friend- in fact in some cases I am just a familiar face at work that may never have any major impact in a persons life.<br />
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But thats okay, embracing our roles and being the best we can in those roles is what we are asked to do as humans. In the case of my recently deceased friend, I wish dearly that I could have been more of a positive influence in his life- but I am now forced to take the role that I am handed. In my attempts to help add to his legacy I have decided to run an "ultra" race- which has brought me great closure, comfort, but most of all pain.<br />
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Pain is a funny thing. Some boast that pain is, "weakness leaving the body", but I am not sure that is true of all pain. You see the physical pain of running for six hours is nothing in comparison to the long lasting pain of losing a loved one, never achieving a life long goal, or being lonely. No, while the physical pain of running tells us, "you can't do it, you hurt too much" emotional pain tells us, "you have to do it, i'm sorry that it hurts so much".<br />
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When I have lunch with my grandfather and he reminisces about all the wonderful times he had with my grandma- I can't help but notice his struggle to fight back tears. Why do these horrible things happen, and why must we be burdened with this intense emotional grief?<br />
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Because that is the price of love. To love someone means that you make yourself vulnerable- for better or for worse. Some people don't love, and thus aren't ever hurt- but I wouldn't recommend that.<br />
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This week I will honor a friend who reached out to me at a young age when I was changing schools and in the difficult phase of reacclimatizing. We played magic cards, had bonfires, went to dances together, and sat together at the same lunch table. Despite the fact that these memories are hard remember- I hope that I never forget.<br />
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Rest in peace, and I hope to see you once again.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00080063694887332066noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6535523699202441238.post-56307970559330941932013-03-07T16:49:00.002-08:002013-03-07T16:49:58.903-08:00Hello all,<div>
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My last experiment of reducing music in my life was poorly executed. The first couple days went well, but I broke down. I love music and sound too much that it crept back into my life one car ride, run, or lonely moment at work at a time. But the reduction did make me notice my need for sound and noise more than I ever had. </div>
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And then a tragedy occurred. A friend from grammar school left us unexpectedly. Music was a must, and it was Dave Matthews Band that frequented my headphones for days. I hadn't particularly cared for them in High School but it was actually therapeutic. Soulful and mysterious. Different from what I was used to. And it made me remember my friend, and how much I teased him about this music. </div>
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My next experiment is inspired from a post I saw on the Fast, Pray, Give lenten calendar. It read, "fast from pretending things that some things are okay". It hits me now. Its makes me feel hollow when I look back at how many painful situations in my life I let ferment with no attempt to change. So these next few weeks I am fasting from pretending. I will find a situation that is troubling me and be proactive, not with the mentally that I can change anything but that I can have closure. </div>
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This quote came to me attached to an email that I received from craigslist. </div>
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Take care and good luck</div>
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #666666; font-family: Verdana, 'Trebuchet MS', Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; line-height: 17px; text-align: left;"><b>"The world is a dangerous place, not because of those who do evil, but because of those who look on and do nothing." - Albert Einstein</b></span></div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00080063694887332066noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6535523699202441238.post-90086905992427357862013-02-11T20:00:00.003-08:002013-02-11T20:10:14.236-08:00Back to the Blog: Where I have been the last 2 years + social experimenthello electronic diary that I haven't used in the last two years- let me catch you up to speed.<br />
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1. I graduated college with a bachelors degree.<br />
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2. I have two jobs at local hospitals.<br />
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3. I was recently accepted into Physicians Assistant school: the greatest accomplishment of my small and inconsequential life.<br />
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All three things make me happy. It took me 2 years to put the finger on where I wanted to be- but I have arrived. Hallelujah. To all who helped me reach my decision, much thanks. To all who believed in me on my long and taxing journey through late nights of work and early mornings of school- you rock.<br />
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But despite all the excitement, joy, and anticipation that awaits me- there has been an uneasiness within me. I had a recent encounter at work where I heard someone say something negative about me, it was in passing and the person had not intended for it to be heard by me. It bothered me and I handled it like a 5 year old girl (you can draw your own conclusions on what happened). But this leads me to the weeks social experiment.<br />
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Get rid of the noise. My life is consumed in iPods, television, car radio, people talking, podcasts, instruments, dish washers, furnaces etc. I choose to put on pleasing music or interesting radio shows to escape the real sounds around me- and maybe thats why I am so sensitive when I hear what is real. The next week I am going to commit to no radio in the car and no Ipod when I run. I will use my me time to listen to the sounds around me. Maybe I will become less self conflicted, or maybe I will just appreciate deliberate sounds more when the week ends.<br />
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Either way- its the willingness and desire to change something that is getting me to act- hopefully you'll follow suit in some capacity!<br />
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hear whats real- listen to yourself- listen with yourself<br />
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peace<br />
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Bonocon<br />
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00080063694887332066noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6535523699202441238.post-74368124024344306472011-06-15T14:30:00.000-07:002011-06-15T14:30:27.780-07:00Eating alone<img src="http://www.clipartguide.com/_named_clipart_images/0060-0808-2614-1101_Lonely_Man_Eating_Alone_in_a_Restaurant_clipart_image.jpg" /><br />
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Eating alone is something I feared a few weeks ago, now its something I cherish. I have been learning how to enjoy being by myself and it has made me appreciate others and friends even more. My summer adjustments of driving for hours a day and learning about agriculture are coming along quite smoothly and I have come to love the open road, especially with books on tape. My challenge for myself this week is to sit alone at a restaurant with a pen and paper ( my journal) and write about the restaurant. How it looks, how the service is, how the menu looks, how expensive it is, etc, and in the meantime try to strike up a conversation with the server. How he feels about the place, the management, the food, the area, the lighting, whatever. I don't know why I want to do this but I do. I had a nice conversation at "the Coffee Pot" owner in Bloomfield NY. She told me about how the place had burned last year and it gave her an opportunity to change the place around. It was a quirky, but colorful diner with license plates of all 50 states... I digress. If your all alone, looking to eat, look to learn too! peaceAnonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00080063694887332066noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6535523699202441238.post-84621989069499179642011-04-10T14:32:00.000-07:002011-04-10T14:32:16.162-07:00What makes home, home? New Challenge and reflection<img src="http://www.cartoonstock.com/lowres/wpa0527l.jpg" /><br />
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Reflection:<br />
So its been a little while, but I hope all that tried giving up their place made some sort of effort that ended up benefiting you. I spent some time with a person who usually aggravates me with things that he does and says. I asked to spend some time with him and after that, the dynamic of our relationship is 10,000 times better. We sat down and played video games, for hours on end, and this person who usually brings a good majority of rage into my life became a person who was a lot like me. I've been thinking about that too, just how similar we all are in many respects. So when we see someone who we feel is on the "wrong" path, or someone who has a personality that conflicts with yours, start to look hard for the similarities and you will begin to broaden your view of the person. He or she will no longer be the person that just pisses you off, but a real living breathing loving hurting crying laughing human being. And thats a start.<br />
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Challenge:<br />
The new challenge this week is based around moving away from home, something most of us will do at some point. For the next week, start to notice what it is that makes you love your hometown/city/county and write it down or take mental notes. While I was in Indianapolis last week I felt a craving for Tim Horton's, and no one knew what I was talking about. Note things about the area, the people in general, personal attachments, nostalgia, sports teams, stores, geography, music, music, schools, etc. But when it comes to friends and family, try your hardest to leave them out of your notes if at all possible. My mother told me today, "where ever you go, I will always be a phone call away" and I almost cried ( i'm a sissy). But she is right, your best friends and your family are always right in your back pocket. So take notes and fear not of the future, it has wonderful and terrible plans for all of us. Try to understand in your note taking that new friends and new areas of nostalgia can be made in any place you go and that if you have an open heart to change, things will work out for the best. Have a great week and for all those Buffaloian's.... GO SABRESAnonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00080063694887332066noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6535523699202441238.post-9275084773300316542011-03-28T22:32:00.000-07:002011-03-28T22:34:24.621-07:00Giving up your place. A New Challenge<img src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3114/3176124800_432d40f4ab.jpg" /><br />
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"Give up your place". I heard that quote a few weeks back and it still rings clear in my head. When I first heard it, I thought to myself, "well, I don't really have any place, so I don't have to do anything.". Boy was I wrong. Part of "my place" are the people that I choose to let into my life, and for that matter my own personal space. A few weeks ago, while I was on a service trip in Cleveland I was forced to give up my place and give up all the personal space I had, and truth be told, it was very uncomfortable. I whined, I ached, and all I could think about was how I wanted my space back. But now looking back on the experience, I can clearly see that I needed to give up my space. "Necessity is the mother of invention", and I needed to step back from my mundane and confining lifestyle and be surrounded by others. And now that I am home, I can see that I still need to let go of my place, and keep the growth alive.<br />
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</div><div>The challenge this week is to have a meal/drink/5 minute conversation with somebody who you do not like, or somebody who you feel doesn't like you. Part of giving up your place is giving up your past feelings towards others. Try to find out something about the other person, see if there is some common ground to bond over. You may be surprised, but in order for it to happen you have to put your place aside and step outside your comfort zone. It won't be easy, it won't be comfortable, but it will be good. If you let it be. </div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00080063694887332066noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6535523699202441238.post-89143878665965041282011-03-10T19:44:00.000-08:002011-03-10T19:44:11.498-08:00The NEW BLOG! Same rules, same game, new name. Lets do it. Now what song are you?<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEho0Cy_fx38Z-4SkJiSuK63wGwfLw0wxFluPbRx7q2rdmtZDBMmo1rnnInX6F4GgPyusrOeF7wRJLU0FF2Rya0ScN2r2MJTZ0TmuuwyO5K4YfISwfE1ntYNZRO2YFo0gQAgRVyX0de1hvbZ/s1600/sad-dinosaur.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEho0Cy_fx38Z-4SkJiSuK63wGwfLw0wxFluPbRx7q2rdmtZDBMmo1rnnInX6F4GgPyusrOeF7wRJLU0FF2Rya0ScN2r2MJTZ0TmuuwyO5K4YfISwfE1ntYNZRO2YFo0gQAgRVyX0de1hvbZ/s320/sad-dinosaur.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />
Alright, well due to some complications with new email addresses and technological errors, I had to scrap "improving a smile". It was cute, it was a fun run, but now I'm on to the next thing. I needed some time to time to deal with the loss, reflect, looking at pictures of us, remember all our late nights and early mornings together.... but that was the past, THIS IS THE FUTURE!<br />
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Enough lamenting, on to the next experiment. This one could take you 5 minutes or 50 years. Just think for a minute, "what song best describes me". Not which song best describes how I feel after I broke up with my girlfriend, after I won a sports title, after I had a really bad day, but what song best describes ME. Take some time to look inward and recognize the things that you want to see in yourself, the things that are really at your core. Do you know a song that talks about those things, or describes a person with those attributes? I know I don't, so I'm going to spend the next few days trying to figure out what that song is, and if it doesn't yet exist, I will write one. ALSO, if you find the song that best describes you, and it makes you feel bad about yourself and what you have become/what you are, notice it. Notice that, and (this is an awful reference, I am almost ashamed to use it) realize that the rest is still unwritten.<br />
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Seriously, the depressing music that I listen to and hear others post on each others wall has got to end somewhere. We, as human beings, are not meant to pick up and instrument and think, "now how am I going to make some really sad sounds with sad lyrics and make everyone sad", but I think some bands have found just the perfect recipe and an eager audience. Don't be fooled, I like a lot of depressing music, but it isn't who I am and I take the music as challenges to improve, and stay away from the problems the lyricist has faced. I hope you can all find yourself in some sort of music, and it doesn't even have to have words! I know this is a really lame experiment but I started really late in the week, so hopefully we can all catch up. Pax peopleAnonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00080063694887332066noreply@blogger.com0