DailyPosts

Running with a Joyful Heart

I was fortunate to raise money this January for a wonderful organization called The Joyful Heart Foundation that works to support those who area abused.  But they don’t stop there; they also help those who help the abused victims.  A beautiful lady started the Foundation, her name is Mariska Hargitay.  The work, the people and the dedication are just a few reasons why I wanted to help raise awareness for the cause and also a little money on my journey.  On January 19-20, 2013, I started out on my 10th running of the HURT 100-Mile Endurance Run across some of the most beautiful and extreme terrain that Hawaii offers.  The race is on the island of Oahu through the tropical forest and conditions that make the race one of the most difficult on earth.  Sure, you climb and descend 24,500 ft over five arduous 20-mile loops almost entirely on trails.  Sure, you run for 36 non-stop hours trying to remain calm and focused to the finish.  But the effort of distance and time are not the goals.  Most people don’t finish.  Personally, I finished the 100 miles three times and enjoyed all races regardless of the distance covered.  If not, I shouldn’t even toe the start line.

While most of the race is in the darkness due to the canopy and time of year, you are blessed with some many sights and friends.  My effort this year was wonderful and smart.  I raced to plan with 40 miles completed in 11 hours.  The next 20 miles would enter the dark zone from 5pm to after midnight.  The third loop began just fine, but the ‘zombie’ slowly began to overcome of ability to remain focused and I slowed a lot.  Still, I was out of the fourth loop with plenty of time to spare and my pacer in tow.  I actually felt really good, and was looking forward to seeing the sunrise.  My stomach was slowly turning the other direction however and never recovered.  I’ve had many complications with my digestive system since cancer, and know that I cannot push too far into rhabdomyolysis.  This is casued when my kidneys can’t keep pace.  Several times, I pushed beyond safe limits and woke up on the gurney happy to be safe.  As my heart rate fluctuated and lungs slowly filled, I knew I needed to make a call with my pacer – a smart decision and not a stubborn one.

I’m only 41 (just turned also!) and have many years of racing and family time ahead.  One race does not make a difference on the positive side, but can make a definite difference on the negative end of things.  I worked my system for 9 hard hours until we made the decision to stop at mile 73.  With only one marathon remaining, the distance was easy.  But it was never about running 100 miles.  The journey was larger with so many family, friends and strangers.  My steps were simply small parts of the larger picture that everyone contributed to in their own way.

I’ve recovered quickly and back out there going 110% in every direction.  I want to thank my wife and kids for the balance required to do these fun events, and everyone that gave me a hand over the several months leading up to the race and since.  Mahalo Nui Loa for such a wonderful life!

Still Running

Wow - another year is closing in and it seems like 2012 took about 4 years to complete - and I'm till running.  I had to nix the John Muir Trail fastpack trip this year and opt for the Koolau Summit Trail, insane!  Work shifted from the payer side of health care to the provider side requiring a new level of work-life balance - still running.  With my next 100 mile run nearing, I was fortunate to connect with a great charity called the Joyful Heart Foundation and decided to coordinate my run with raising donations and awareness for this amazing organization.  If you ever need motivation, try running for a charity that seeks to stop the violence and abuse in society across all ages - yes, the youngest too!  It makes we want to run even harder as I want to smack certain offenders for their criminal and evil acts.  Pure anger inside channeled into the trails when I know my two boys are safe and I want to keep them safe.

This January 19-20, 2013 is the HURT Trail 100 on Oahu and all the information can be found at my website.  I don't touch any donations as they are directly made to the Joyful Heart Foundation.  Injuries this year with my volume of sport have been controlled to a neuroma and ankle sprain, not bad for what I run over.  My body is now nearing 41, and feels better than when I was 25.  I guess all the adventure racing, triathlon, duathlon and mountain climbing hardened me up for the later years.

As I drop this note to anyone that reads, please take the time to look around and enjoy life.  I lost a few good friends in 2012, and have a few more fighting for each day - and cancer sucks!  I'm not the fastest or best runner but I like to think I can suffer more than the rest.

And yes - I'm still running.  Mele Kalikimaka to all my friends and strangers out there, and keep positive when the days get dark as the dawn brings a new day that may suck, but it's a new day.

Ko’olau Summit Trail 2012

This was a replacement trek after a recent change of jobs, and was supposed to be relatively easy when compared to my planned John Muir Trail trek.  Only three days along the Oahu Ko’olau mountain range starting at Pupukea trailhead.  The adventure is an annual trek led by Gordon Lau, a local experienced trail guide, endurance athlete, hunter and more who is also slightly older than both of the other two hikers: I’m 40 and Jim Masterson is mid-40’s. I want let out Gordon’s age for absolute fear of unleashing the beast.  Jim is just off the plane from Korea where he is stationed with the Army.  He is also an endurance athlete in excellent, crazy conditioning. 
On Memorial Day weekend starting at 8am on Saturday May 26th, 2012 three trekkers set out on to attempt a 3-day trek along the Ko’olau Summit Trail (KST here out) ending at Kamehameha Highway only a few long, never-ending miles away.  The terrain was tropical rain forest with a gradual paved road to start.  The weather was overcast and slightly misting with a few showers and mid-60’s.  Not too bad overall and a good conversation along the road.  Then we stop and I realize my first misgiving – both Jim and Gordon put on knee-length gaiters, protective glasses, protective gloves and brandish their machetes.  I had some small gaiters covering my low-profile trail running shoes.  And that was the last view of the road until Kamehameha Highway.  The trail continues uphill since this is a summit trail.  We ascend up the thumb gradually making our way to the spine or hogs-back to about 2,200 feet.  The winds begin to pick up as does the mud that is overflowing my gaiters.  The brush is thick and getting thicker along the way.  Gordon leads the way with amazing pig-hunter navigational skills that were obviously absent from a recent soloist who got lost for five days before rescue.  Thankfully, we had a Gordon!
The trail opens up at times, then disappears just as quickly with only surveyor ribbon (yellow, blue, orange, etc.) to search for making this a game of follow the leader, dodge the plants that pulls at every piece of clothing and skin, duck from the objects darting towards your eyes from the wind, stay back from the person in front so not to find yourself the recipient of a recoil, keep upright in the every increases mud pit and of course stay hydrated and eat.  I almost forgot to not grab anything to keep your balance since I had no gloves.  OK, I think I have everything planned for the next 72 hours of fun.
The raw uninterrupted beauty of the natural setting of the Ko’olaus is truly spectacular.  Yes, there are invasive species and many groups are working to remove these plants and control the animals that encroach on the beauty of the island.  Until you walk in these harsh places, never assume that they are just hanging our picking weeds.  They are truly amazing people working in some of the world’s most extreme places.
As we trekked slowly towards our first destination, Koloa Cabin, I began to realize that I needed to stay at least 10 feet from Jim who was in the middle to avoid getting smacked in the face from all the brush, but somehow keep an eye on him in the misty air and undulating ground where the trail twists and turns with the nature contours of the terrain.  Each step is a risky proposition with rocks that move, mud that swallows your leg, brush that grabs at you with passion and just relentless concentration.  Then at times, I found myself crawling behind Jim under fallen trees as if we were taking enemy fire from above.  On the KST we moved onward to the Kahuku trailhead arriving around 9:30a then over to the Malaekahana trail by 12:25p.  Stops for rest were very few as each of us are very familiar with eating on the move, and making steady progress from our years doing ultra endurance runs.  And those years came together on this effort.  Gradually, the Laie trail came closer around 1:05p with a short section until we took a longer break to get water at the Kawailao area by 1:37p.  Time always crawls by in the head, then hours are gone without any realization of how far you’ve gone and what your body is capable of enduring.  We filtered our water, Gordon and I with hand pumps and Jim with his cute UV pen and bottle filter.  The Go-Lite packs were tossed back over our shoulders, and we finally reach the Koloa cabin by 2:56p on Day One.  The rain was ever-present and a cabin setup by the Army was very nice reprieve to the wet and cold day. 
I did my best to clean my clothes thinking the monster wind would blow them dry on the make-shift clothesline.  But the mist and humidity along with the cold temperature made certain that was not to happen.  In our metal cabin / container with a few bunks, we rested and slowly began to settle in with warm meals from the hot water provided by the two stoves that Jim and I had.  My Jet Boil versus Jim’s MSR WhisperLite, no competition.  The Jet Boil rocked.  Jim began his hour long yoga poses that Gordon dubbed downward cricket (versus dog) and I just stretched out the body and watched the wind pass by the windows.  Night came slowly as did the heavier rains letting us know Day Two was to be another adventure.
While we woke up early, we didn’t depart the comfort of the cabin until 8:15a.  This was partly due to the weather and also due to a plan by Gordon to stop short at the Army cabin only a few miles away.  Apparently, this was a very nice cabin and Gordon really wanted to stop there.  By 10:35a, we reached Castle trail and despite the harsh wind and quicksand type mud, we were making good time.  This meant that the Army cabin was reached very early at 11:24a and there was no logical way that we would stop here.  Gordon cried and waved slowly bye-bye to the cabin.  It was a very sad picture indeed, but onward.  The steps ahead were the worst conditions on the entire trail, and challenging was an understatement.  The only thing to do was to hope the mud pits didn’t eat your shoes and keep your mouth closed so not to splash any mud into your mouth.  But with all the weather hazards, I continued to see beauty all around me.  I might slip on a hidden log, and see the ohia flower looking at me.  Or almost have my eye poked out, and see the strangest twisted tree that could only come from the mind of Tim Burton or the KST.
By 12:25p we made it to Peahinaia and pushed on to the Cline Memorial by 1:45p with markers of all trailheads and distance along the KST.  We moved along the fence line erected to control the pig population and also caused one injury to the team.  While moving carefully over a metal spike holding tension for the fence, Gordon landed on top of the spike impaling his right knee with serious damage.  Some duct tape and a few curse words made the injury much better.  That is one tough dude.  He picked up his orange handled machete and pushed on.  By 2:05p, we reached Poamoho cabin covered in deep mud, soaking wet and exhausted.  And on the front porch of the cabin was a clean couple eating homemade sandwiches.  I think we scared them since they departed rather quickly, allowing us to have the cabin to ourselves, Jim to do his yoga, Gordon to sleep and me – well I tried to get some weight off my clothes and body by taking a shower in the water catchment slightly warmed with the introduction of two-cups of boiling water from my stove.  That was pure luxury.  We rested, then ate and played with rubbing alcohol fires.
While the sound of rats racing along the back of the cabin woke me, I was still able to relax listening to the rain and crazy wind.  By sunrise, the skies opened allowing some beautiful views all the way to the ocean.  Day Three would prove to be a taxing day from the pure wind impact of the effort alone.  And when I describe the wind, it is not like a gentle trade wind at 15 mph.  These winds were truly epic and dangerous.  If your jacket had any flap, it would slap painfully across your body.  The force was strong enough and also amplified by the cliffs on Day Three to push over each of us.  As we scrambled along the Schofield terminus by 8:47a, we were blasted with tough footing and heavy winds that sent each of us grasping for anything to hold on to.  The cliffs are beautiful from below, just not something you want to visit on a freefall.  We made it to the end of our section of the KST at Ka'aumakua and down Waikane trail at 9:12a holding fast to every piece of protection that trail could offer.  Along this entire section, I rated every step with a 1-2-3 scale.  One meant that a fall would be survivable with a self arrest.  A two meant that I would get injured but likely not die.  A three meant that a sudden stop would be a few hundred or thousand feet below, not good.  And this rating was literally made with every step as the trail was razor thin, holes would form and the wind would knock your center of balance off line.  At one point, I reached up in time to grad the pack of Jim as the wind pushed him unexpectedly close to the edge.  We smiled, and continued.  The decent down Kahana lowback and to the water tunnel was gradually getting easier and eventually turned into a hike.  Once we made it down to Kamehameha Hwy, we found a certain Fishman waiting for us with a cooler, food, drinks and smiles. 
This was an awesome trip with friends, and an amazing part of Oahu that is mostly undisturbed by people.  The efforts by the researching, mountain clubs and universities are truly amazing and unseen.  The conservation efforts in the most remote places are protecting the beauty of Oahu for everyone.  Until you walk in these places, you can’t imagine how rugged Oahu is and how strong people are that attempt to hike the KST.  Total distance, just over 22.6 miles.

 

Training for Life

New job and a new routine. After 10 years with the same company in Hawaii, I made the bold decision to try something new and that decision requires a new routine to manage life and my workouts. So far, I'm adjusting slowly with my longer runs still in the night hours, alone. With the reflection of things that seem important when I put in those lonely night runs on the tropical trails of Oahu, I think and feel so many things. More recently, I am led to the thought of distant friends that I never really got to know that are fighting their battle with cancer. The minutes turn to hours as I run listening to the wind and bugs, and thinking of everything that is going through their mind - treatment, survival, finances, family, anger, and the list is endless.

As I train for life through sport, I'm reminded of those that came to my doorstep to keep me company when I was most likely the worst company imaginable. Still, they dropped by to say hi and keep up those spirits. Last night, I reached out to a courageous young man who is suffering with his battle with cancer to let him know that I wanted to drop by, say hi and just hang out for a while.

It's the family and friends that keep us going down this long, winding road as we experience life with jobs, kids, and challenges. At times, it's those distant friends, nearly strangers that mix up the plate and give us a new perspective and energy to move along this road.

I'll continue to train for life, and live it to the fullest knowing that I am truly lucky because of and not in spite of my challenges.

I challenge anyone reading this is go visit a distant friend who is battling cancer. We all know one or more. Just make it happen, if even for a minute. And thank you for taking the time to make a difference.

Perry the Bullfrog Lives

After years of delays, my children's adventure book is available on Amazon. http://amzn.com/1467913839   This is a fun story about a bullfrog from the bayou of Louisiana that dreams of adventure and makes his way to Hawaii where he meets another bullfrog named Opu Nui.  Together they share they culture and Parry learns to surf.  The illustrations are amazing thanks to Kate Righter, and proceeds benefit the Hawaii Children's Cancer Foundation. 

A really cool day in the journey of life!  Please share and enjoy the book.

Cancer Never Ends

This past month has seen some reality checks when it comes to the ongoing fight to endure the battle with cancer.  On Sept. 12, I lost my uncle that raised me when my father and mother had their own challenges.  Ironically, he was my father's identical twin and just like twins, he died from the same cancer that took my father 5 years ago.

The funeral was both a reunion and one of the more difficult emotional times of my life.  But as a family, we made it through.

Once back in Hawaii and looking to return some normal routine of family life, training for endurance events and work, I was slapped with another reality check.  My radiation therapy to my face 5 years ago had caused some damage to the nerve in a tooth.  These things happen despite everyone best efforts.  I'm surprised it took so long to present.  So, I had a wonderful root canal performed to take care of the never ending side effects of the treatment.

I almost forgot the topical chemo for basal cell and many stitches from a little cyst on my back.  These didn't slow me down although they did keep me from swimming for a while.  I didn't want to be easy shark bait.

So, as I continue to look for the normalcy in life, I'm once again reminded of the never ending battle.  Last week, I awoke to a chubby upper lip.  I guess if I wanted to look like one of the reality TV stars with their big lips, I would have been pleased.  On the contrary, I knew there was something up.  Now, the swelling is into my cheeks, upper and lower lips and eye lids.  I look so cute.  It's likely lymphedema due once again to the life long side effects from my treatment.  My system was damaged permanently, so this is what I must manage.  I'm working to isolate the trigger which is eluding us at the moment.  But, I do look rather interesting.

So, one would assume that these events would allow for a lull in my attitude.  Actually, just the opposite.  I feel better than ever and more motivated that ever.  Date nights with my wife, beach time with the boys, camping with my older son and training for long hours smelling the lilikoi, mountain apples and white ginger along the lovely Hawaiian trails that always brings a smile to my heart.  With life we can either succumb to the events that we are faced with, or continue to live the journey.  It may not always be pleasant, but that's life.  Live while there is life to live, and save the complaining for when the living is done.  Because of these challenges, I go out of my way to help others, especially those that can actually help themselves.  Sounds strange, but in a circular logic, I am showing them that because of my challenges, I am still able to do more than you without complaining and with a smile.  What's your excuse?  I can't find one.

Another Road Less Traveled

After 5 years, I heard the wonderful news from the oncologist - Cancer Free.  Technically, I know this is not a clinical term, but an emotional term.  And with the road that we traveled, emotion was part of the trip.  So, out with the clinical and technical mumbo-jumbo and on with what the patient wants to hear.  I appreciated the great news.

So, I we were so excited to now have the opportunity to consider some reconstruction after the destruction from the surgery.  Everyone tells me that I look fine.  I truly appreciate the warmth from which this is delivered.  But I just want to look more like me.  And as I type this, I know many of my close friends are working on so many jokes to toss at me.  I'm ready!

We went to a couple of plastic surgeons to get their opinion of implants, fillers, abrasion and other options to help with the 'old me.'  My oncologist said "Do nothing.  But go ahead and ask."  So, the plastic surgeons basically came back with not just "No, but HELL NO!"  That was not the news I was waiting for after five years.  But it was the truth.

And in life when you get bummed, watch out for the curve ball.  My curve ball came from my check up with the dermatologist.  He simply wanted to examine a couple things through a biopsy but nothing alarming at all.  Then the pathology came back.  Well, at first the news that was conveyed was not good, so we made an in person appointment to get the facts and options.

After stressing over the initial news, the in person visit yielded better news.  The biopsy was benign and not the same squamous cell but rather basal cell.  Heck, I'll take the lessor of evils any day.  So no new surgery to my face (just my back) and only some cream that will make me very funny looking for a little while.

The dermatologist stated that I had the best skin of any of his patients.  I should given that I avoid unprotected sun exposure, stay covered and limit my time in the sun regardless.  So this new stuff is more data to the mystery file, and another road that I'm traveling down.

But this news is not bad news, and based on what we were initially told about the pathology, it's great news!

And I'm also on the HURT wait list (I hope) as I did not get the lottery.  What a week!

Back to my training, family and work as this is one truly blessed life!!!

Louisiana 50 Miler for Cancer Research

Running 50 miles sounds long, and it is if you count each step.  It’s even longer if you think about all that goes into a run of this distance from the training, pre-run planning, actual run and experience as well as post-run and recovery.  While not the same as a trail 50 or 100 miler, this comparative short and flat run on May 20^th around a 5 mile course at the LSU Lakes in Baton Rouge, LA should have been, well…easy.  It was not.  For once, I wanted to attempt to describe the actual event in more detail from a runner’s point of view.  Although boring to many, and most readers, the words are an effort to capture the mind (or my mind) of an endurance runner.  This event benefited Mary Bird Perkins Cancer Center, and the wonderful work they have done for more than 40 years.

May 19^th – One day before the event

The day before the event was intended to be a restful.  The week leading up to the event was absent any sleep since our family trip from Hawaii to Baton Rouge with a newborn baby resulted in him being off his sleep schedule.  I slept on average less than 3 hours per night until Thursday, where I crashed at the Best Western near the start.  A quick solo vegetarian dinner with no spice, and in bed by 8PM.  O course, all plans are only that as it was LSU’s graduation and a few other people at the hotel were excited to reach this milestone.  Eventually, I just fell asleep with a wake up call at 4:30 AM.  I always have two alarms and this was smart, as one alarm did not work.

May 20^th – The day of the event

I like to wake up about 2 hours before an event to allow myself time to eat, have a happy colon and account for any oops moments.  Everything is packed a ready to go the night before, so I simply rolled out of bed and grabbed two Clif Bars to start.  My sis crashed at the hotel as well, and by 5:01 AM, we were out the door.  In 10 minutes, we were setting up the only aid station for the run.  It was still dark but there were other runners up and going to avoid to coming heat.  We popped up the 10 X 10 tent, setup a few chairs and organized my nutrition then rested.  The nutrition plan was to carry a 50-ounce Nathan bladder pack with enough Clif Bloks for two laps or 10 miles.  I usually consume about 20-26 ounces per hour, and this would minimize the need for frequent stops.  In my front pockets, I also carried a few Succeed electrolyte tablets that I would start taking close to lap the end of lap three or around three hours.  A few local runners and magazine reporter showed up around 6:00 AM and I was off on lap 1.  Denver Benton, local runner and event organizer, took my out on this lap.  We jogged and chatted about all things runners talk about.  The lap went smoothly, so smoothly in fact that we so how took an extra leg that added 1.5 miles to the effort.  Brennan of ClaimYourJourney.com came out to snap a few pictures and Katie Key was there wishing us best of luck.  The day was already hot though, and I could feel the sweat flowing down my short and the end of my shirt.  Before the end of lap one, I pulled my sun hat from Frillneck around my face, donned my shades and prepared for the onslaught of heat to come. 

I started eating my Clif Bloks at 3 Bloks per hour, and my bladder carried two scoops of EFS per 50 ounces.  I wanted to allow time for my stomach to open and begin absorbing the needed nutrients before the heat began to close up the system.  From experience, I could feel the sweat leaving my body at a faster rate than my consumption.  Sensing this, I slowed my pace down a little more and drank a lot more.  Before finishing the second lap around 7:40 AM, I ate the rest of my Clif Bloks and came into the aid tent to refuel and quickly head back out.

The heat was slowly building and although the clouds were offering some cover, the payment was pushing up radiant heat from below and the sun was talking to me from above.  After 10 miles, the body was working as expected.  I wanted to keep a constant pace to allow for added walking during the latter laps.  So I just told myself to run smooth and easy, and not fast!  I was identifying every aspect of the course from the green pen dropped, the lip balm on the side, the flowers at the homes, the crossover near Morning Glory, which sections had gumballs and where the shade was best.  Trying to see the course helps so that you can pick off common mental landmarks as the repeat the same route, and I was doing 10 laps.  I continued to take onboard more fluids and eat the Clif Bloks, but began to notice the tunnel affect in my head where I can hear my breath and ears pop with every stride.  I knew that my electrolytes were off, and need to be very attentive to this.  I finished lap 3 or 15 miles and decided to take three Succeed to recover some lost potassium and sodium.  I pulled together the corner of my shirt tail, and squeezed out about ½ cup of sweat.  The heat was only increasing and my electrolyte imbalance was the priority focus.  From years of racing, I knew how to manage this and also knew the warning signs of heat stroke, that would come into play in a few more hours.

Now close to 8:30 AM, and the temp was talking to me.  I had 15 miles behind me, electrolytes on board and consuming more fluids than planned.  The fourth lap would see my drain all 50 ounces of fluids and looking for water on the short 5-mile loop.  I needed to remain attentive to my body signals of heat exhaustion and potential heat stroke and the humidity was climbing quickly and temps were reaching the high 80’s to low 90’s fast.  I monitored my heart rate to assess my potassium level and to see if I was in type I heart block.  The rhythm was strong and slow, at around 90 bpm and every third beat would interrupt the rhythm seeming as if my heart skipped a beat.  I tested my depth of breath and could easily get full lung expansion and my head was clear.  I would repeat this type of assessment many times as I ran around the LSU Lakes.

Back around to the aid station, my wife, sons, mom, sis and cousins were there in support.

This brought a strong smile to my face as I completed 20 of the targeted 50 miles.  They all had on shirts that carried messages of support and reminded me of the reason behind my suffering.  I downed some ice cold water, and went straight for the Muscle Milk for some early fat intake.  This seemed to open the body a little, and by 9:30 AM I was off on my fifth lap.

Lap 5 saw more heat, and I noticed that my hands and feet were cold and tingling.  I tested myself again and added a new test of leaning over for a brief second.  When I raised up, I was dizzy and the world was spinning around.  This combined with my tingling and wondering mind let me know that the heat was getting to me.  I starting walking and grabbed an entire sleeve of Clif Bloks.  This entire lap was about setting up the second half of the run.  I needed to recover some, just enough, to get my legs moving again.  After about 20 ounces of fluids and the Bloks along with 2 more Succeed tablets, I was back running.  Each marker around the lakes became a mind game: this white house under construction, the two men walking in jogging suites I keep lapping, the couple fishing, sorority row and the bridge.  I decomposed the entire 5 mile loop into tiny fragments, and kept moving around knowing that at the aid station, I would be half way done!  I saw a runner in the last mile but he stopped and was only walking.  I took one look at him, and said, “let’s run.”  We jogged the last mile back to the aid station.  The added company was a welcome distraction.

Just before 10:30 AM, I was out on lap 6 and running much better.  Maybe it was the Muscle Milk and Snickers bar that lifted my legs.  But was everything in life, when your up there is only one place to go.  So, I milked this good feeling until the discomfort returned.  I knew the effort required to run a 10 lap course mostly alone in the heat wearing a full face wrap on pavement would be a challenge.  And it truly was.  Lap 6 was nice in a way in that it marked over half way and less than 20 miles remaining once completed.  I was on the downhill part of the distance although the effort truly all uphill from here.

By 11:30 AM, I was back around and back onto the Muscle Milk and Snickers.  I was drinking about 40 ounces per hour and still not keeping pace with the loss.  My years of training remind me to eat to recover and don’t stop too long.  When you feel bad, eating is sometimes that last thing that you want to do, but don’t stop.  The heat was very intense, and I started dreaming of ice showers and the ocean back home.  I thought about the ice cooler at the aid station, and how refreshing it would be.  And every home with a water feature around the LSU Lakes was very mean to see.  I just wanted to jump in each one of them.  I continued and endured keeping very close tabs on my electrolyte situation.

After 35 miles of running, my lap times were varied.  It was now 11:45 AM, and I was going out for mile 40.  Lap 8 was not nice at all.  I simply managed this lap as a survival lap and ate everything I had.  There was nothing nice about being out that from miles 35-40, except getting around to the aid station.  No matter what I attempted, the body was somewhere else, and I did my best to jog the shady parts and walk the exposed sections.  My facial wrap was working in protecting me from the sun, but acting like an oven from the road surface reflecting heat back into my face.

40 miles down, and 2 PM was here.  The heat continued to be extreme, and I was getting aggravated from the heat continuously slapping me in the face.  I felt some salt on my face, and just endured by thinking of other parts of life.  I let my mind go to another place and did not think about the road underfoot.  The pace was slow and conditions absolutely relentless.  The 5 mile loop took about 1.5 hours to get around this time.

Back at the aid station, the entire family was there supporting me for the final 5 miles.  I drank Coke and ate another Snickers.  For the final 5 miles, my wife and sons along with my Mom joined me, albeit they were in the AC van.  I gave them my Nathan pack and carried an Ultimate Direction bottle of ice water.  For this final push, I was going Ironman style – Coke and Snickers!  I just kept moving from point to point, and made an effort to tell everyone hello.  This helped move my mind as well. The electrolyte levels were on a rollercoaster ride and my heart rate was drop then spike even when walking.  I found it easier to jog.

About a mile from the end, I was in another heat situation and stopped at the first fraternity house where my support crew brought my Coke, ice water and Snickers.  I took about 5 minutes to get some into me because I wanted to finish strong.  My Mom offered to walk with me some, and I just saw this offer as perfection to the finish.  I walked and talked the remaining mile with my Mom.  This was her first experience with me doing an ultra, and what better to experience this than to walk from mile 49 to mile 50.  

No ultra is done alone, and this 50 miler proved it.  I consumed over 30 Succeed tablets, 1 entire bottle of EFS, over 300 ounces of water and 4 Cokes, 3 Snickers bars, 3 Clif Bars, 1 Payday bar and 6 Clif Bloks.  The total time running was just over 10 hours and 30 minutes for slightly more than 50 miles.  Within 48 hours, I was fully recovered from the event!

And why would someone run for 10.5 hours in the heat?  This journey is one of many that I have undertaken over the years, ever since 2006.  That is the year I was diagnosed with cancer, underwent treatment and then returned to make a difference.  Since 2006, the challenges are to raise awareness about cancer and its impact in our community, and to raise donations directed 100% to a cause from an individual to a research center.  And ever dollar donated means so much to me, in that cancer is too prevalent and my dream to that my children will never learn that word in their personal lives.

Thanks to Planet Sun Hawaii for the sunscreen, Clif Bar for the nutrition, Denver Benton for the support and to my wonderful crew that carried me around the course. Aloha

Running for Mary Bird Perkins Cancer Center

I’m heading back home to Louisiana amidst the flooding to run 50 miles for Mary Bird Perkins Cancer Center (MBP).  MBP has been around about as long as I have, and making a difference in the struggle people unfortunately has with cancer.  On May 20^th starting at 6AM, I’ll push off with the initial strides and keep running around the beautiful Louisiana State University lakes until I complete 50 miles.

Oddly enough, it’s been 5 years since I completed my cancer treatment.  What a better celebration than to do something more than myself and give back.  I hope to raise a few donations with a page dedicated to MBP at http://www.CancerRunner.org.  The donations go directly to MBP and will make a difference in the lives of so many facing the battle that too many have already endured.

A few friends and likely a few strangers will join me for this event.  With technology today, I’ve been working with Denver Benton of Denver Benton Fitness Services from over 5,000 miles away.  We’ll finally meet in person at the event, and I look forward to a few miles of making a new friend.

During this opportunity, I will remember why I am running – this will be easy actually.  I’ll be covered from the sun, wearing strong sunblock as well as 50+ UPF rated clothing and head wraps.  And as I endure since my cancer, I’ll drink my nutrition more than any eating.  And this is a good thing to remember, since I’m out there stronger than ever!

As the miles roll past and the day gets older, my mind will slowly move to the completion and know that my new baby boy in his mom’s arms will be there waiting for me.  I hope to run the last little part with my oldest son who is now out of kindergarten and was only 1 when I underwent my ordeal.  My family will be there providing support and thinking as always how crazy I am, but knowing inside how proud they are.

Anyone can donate through the above website, and follow along via Twitter @CancerRunner.  Keep running, keep moving and never, ever quit the fight.

Worst and Best Cancer Day

Now that I’m five years past my last treatment, I think back to the lowest days of the cancer ordeal while out on long training days.  I do this to remind myself of the strength inside and remove any whining that may surface when I’m tired of running or not feeling 100%.

To find the worst day during my cancer fight, I could choose from the day I was diagnosed, the day long surgery holding my wife’s hand, the recurrence, the fear of the radiation strapped to a table, any of the endless days trying to eat/drink anything, my last day able to run or a multitude of other options.  But no, none of those even tip the scale of the worst and subsequently the best day of my cancer ordeal.

No, the absolute worst day was the day I sat down, all 130 pounds of myself (started at 162), in a rocker on a raining evening in March 2006 holding my two year old son and reading him Good Night Moon by Margaret Wise Brown.  If you have kids, you probably know this book as the rolling words and carefully rendered pages invite the child to gently fall asleep.  I loved reading this book to my son before bedtime and holding him in my arms as he would fall asleep just before the last couple of pages.  Well, my worst day was when partway through this children’s book, I was no longer able to talk.  The treatment to my head and neck had damaged my throat and mouth so badly, that I was too far gone to shape my mouth.  If it was only pain stopping me, I would have forced the body on to finish the book.  No, I physically could no longer speak and hence I could no longer finish the bedtime story to this little freckled face, blue eyed boy who had no clue of what I was undergoing – nor should he.

At this moment, I could have just stopped and asked for help and let the cancer win another battle in this prolonged war.  I could easily give up and hand my son to my wife and surrender to the invisible darkness eating me from inside.  But that would not be me.  This worst day of my treatment was also the best day, as I simply hummed the words softly.  I found a way to continue the book and as a result I won this little battle for dignity given so much dignity that I had to give up.  While there was a tear in my eye, I was happy to hum the bedtime story to my son and watch him fall asleep in his dad’s weak but stubbornly wrapped arms.

Moments like this are what I call upon when I am tired during a 12-hour night run after working all day.  When work doesn’t seem like a place I want to be or any situation that allows for the opportunity to surrender and give up, this best day allows me the strong experience to smile at the obstacles that exist all around us every day and continue to lead a truly stress free life.  Sure there are deadlines at work, endurance workouts that don’t go as planned and reasons to multi-task beyond the mere mortal limits of one person, but I still smile and put this entire wonderful life into perspective.

It’s not about how much money you make or don’t.  It’s not about who you know or don’t.  It’s not about winning a race or not.  It is about getting to the starting line, taking your turn, accepting no excuses and finding a way to read to your son even if there are no words coming out.

After reading my little blog, I hope in your life you see the challenge and smile at it as an opportunity to continue living life – your life.