I'm dealing with endings today.  And beginnings.  What could well be my last uber-competitive 800 is tonight at 7pm.  I know exactly what my life looks like until just before 7:02, but nothing of what lays beyond.  I mean, I know where I live, what clothes I will wear and what car I will drive and where a bit of money will come from to buy food, but that is just the shell of myself moving through the world handling my life's operating necessities.

What I don't know is how to deal with the absence.  For 15 years running has been my identity;  a handful of numbers I can throw out to define the passion and dedication I've arranged my life around. Simple, but effective.  And always with hope for improvement.

Last night, I went to a rehearsal with some friends from my old choir that defined so much of me my senior year of high school (that memory laden year).  A new group of graduates of that choir is starting under our old, now retired, choir director.  It's a dream come true.  Think of Mr. Holland's Opus with all his graduates playing in the orchestra.  Walking through the hallways of yesterday as we approached the rehearsal room, I saw my old locker, the auditorium, site of so many concerts, blinked at shadows of old crushes as I walked past familiar classrooms, and even sniffed phantom smells of Otis Spunkmeyer cookies that used to be sold at lunchtime in the main hallway.  My life of college, then running in Los Angeles, Eugene, working for RunnerSpace, and all the places, races, and people I had seen since I ate those cookies raced across my mind.  I nearly choked on my own nastalgia. 

A girl walked up to a friend I was catching up with and introduced herself.  I knew her immediately.  She was the star diva soprano who didn't make it to the All-State Choir as a junior, when I, as a freshman boy soprano whose voice had still one year left before cracking into maturity, did.  I expected to see the same glimmer of hatred in her eyes that I saw 14 years ago when the audition results were announced.  But it never came.  Imagine my relief!  And by the time rehearsal was over, I had a roomful of 25 people encouraging me to move back to Portland to be a part of this resurrected choir.  Is that what my life looks like at 7:02pm tonight? 

I suppose it's appropriate that I watched "The Bucket List" today, a movie about the mortal conflict on whether a man has lived a meaningful life or not.  Endings begetting beginnings. And questions, endless questions.  Many do I have to face as I lay to rest the only lifestyle I've known since my schooling. 

I've decided to run the OTC All-Comers meets this July.  It would be great fun to use my fitness to try to get after some of those ancient PRs left over from high school (i.e., anybody up for a 3k?).  I can imagine going through some post-running depression, and I realized that's probably not a good place for me to be when it comes time to cover the U.S. National Championships! 

I think it's helpful for me to admit when I can't quite read the compass clearly.  My constant guide being my parent's instructions throughout my upbringing.  "Always do whatever it is that you enjoy doing."  I will enjoy tonight's race, and thanks to those friends of mine who notice a former 1:52 guy trying to get after it one last time!

A lot of things went wrong.

For those of you who follow my running career . . . yeah right, for those of you who know me then, might know that my 2 years hiatus by way of achilles tendonitis came to a glorious halt this weekend when I spiked up and ran the mile at the Husky Invite.  Well, for me it was more like a less-than-glorious 1302 meters.  A lot of things went wrong. 

I don't know if I wimped out.  I don't know if I quit because I was running backwards and already trailing by 20 meters with 307 to go.  I don't know if I was sparing myself the indignation of the courtesy clap or even if I could have picked it back up if I closed my eyes and thought of England, but I do know two things.  I know that a lot of things went wrong and I know that Andy Wheating is one cool dude.

Decelerating from 1:47 (arguably faster, with his kick) pace, Andy ran straight into a high five with coach Vin Lananna.  That was cool.  And after discussing it for a moment, the guy turns and walks right over to me (waiting for the interview, what else?), and still out of breath says, "Hey Kev, I heard you dropped in the mile today.  What happened?  Are you ok?"

Now, forgetting that most elite athletes see me with a camera in one hand and turn to run the opposite direction, Andy could have gone straight into talking about his race, he could have jogged over to his adoring fans seeking autographs, he could have turned around and caught his 800 time!  But he didn't.  He stepped right up to the plate and smacked the "Don't talk to me about my @#$!ing race" look right off my forehead and proved to anyone listening that there are more people at a track meet than just the winners, and they matter too. That's pretty cool.

And I'm not the only one who thinks Andy is a cool dude.  Tevan Everett, Nick Symmonds, his teammates, or any one of his 1799 Facebook friends will tell you the same. 

To answer your question more completely, Andy, a lot of things went wrong.  December and the ice storms went wrong, my getting in spikes for the first time last Saturday went wrong, entering myself at my PR time, thinking I can happily sit on the back of a fast field for my first race back, not passing guys when I had the chance, fading off the back and dropping out, all of these things went wrong.  But hey, I'm not injured, I've got a fire lit under my ass, and I want to get out there and race again! 

So things go wrong, but it's better than them not going at all.  I'm glad to be racing again, and in three weeks, I'll be even happier to be finishing races again!  Thanks for being heads up Andy, you're a class act!

I get fired up about this every year.  I don't know why this is such an issue for me.  Yes I do.  I can't stand unfulfilled potential.  It's why I continued to chase times and races 8 years after my college graduation when at that point I was only a measly 4:00 1500 / 1:53 800 guy.  I knew I could get faster and wanted to find out how much. 

I got fired up last year, such that I asked Lauren Fleshman (ever the patient ear) why more women didn't run USAXC World Trials.  Note: to her credit, she had planned on running last year but was forced out when she got sick.  She told me that it has a lot to do with financial incentive and a little also to do with the American competition schedule.  Indeed, if a girl can win $100K in Chicago or even $250K in Dubai, then why on earth would she spend her time worrying about three thousand bucks she might win at the U.S. Cross Nationals? 

Alright, maybe USATF can't afford a hundred Gs for every member of the World team to make it "worth their while," but where would the money come from?  Nike?  Warren Buffet?  Some anonymous donor who REALLY loves cross country?  Maybe one of those bailed out bankers who used my tax dollars to go on a family vacation in these stressful times? 

With all due respect to Emily Brown, and my sincere congratulations go out to you on your win and all the World Team qualifiers, but I sure noticed a lot of missing faces.  Back in 2005, the US women took the bronze at the World XC Championships in France.  Lauren, Blake, Shalane, Shayne, Amy M., and Melissa B. earned the USA that distinction and it was a shining moment in, not just women's, but in USA distance running.  Not only are those names familiar to those of us that follow the sport, but they are recognizable with only their first names!  Here's my thing: they got bronze in '05, now it's '09, most of them are still around, and guess what, they're better.  Lauren, Blake, and Shalane have all enjoyed breakthroughs since then, and I hear even Shayne is getting back in the groove after starting a family.  

Also there are new (and arguably, more talented) names to add to the pool of still active World medallists.  I have a hard time believing that any of the top 6 ranked distance runners were at US Nationals this year.  In no specific order, I would love to see any combination of Shalane, Kara, Deena, Jen, Lauren, Yoder-Beg, Blake, or Slattery (if I missed someone, I think my point remains) make a go at another podium spot at World XCs.  Am I the only one?  What needs to happen to make that a reality? 

Now I'm just ranting.

Well, I wanted to somehow throw out a little update to some of my friends in the running community that after what has been an extremely frustrating, perhaps life-changing, and educational series of injuries (as well as two years of no racing), I finally have the monkey off my back!  Screw you monkey!!!

I've been quietly going about my summer mileage building and am very much looking forward to the indoor season.  I've been training consistently with no interruptions for about two months now and my immediate goal is to get through the fall and winter with no breaks in the training. 

I hope my good fortune has found some of you as well.  Good luck to everyone who is competing this fall, I'll see you indoors!

2005 McKenzie River Trail Run / 50K

by Todd Bosworth

The McKenzie River 50k Trail Run was held September 10, 2005 at Carmen Reservoir.

My friend and training partner Christian Beck has run many ultras and so I tried to follow his lead in preparation and training for this event. I felt ready.

I was trying to keep a positive frame of mind. Anxiety lurked in the shadows. Based on my training I knew I should be ready to run 50 kilometers but anything can happen. I could fall. It was raining, but was supposed to stop. What should I eat for dinner and breakfast? Have I tapered enough? Maybe the Bohemia Half Marathon last Saturday was too close. I've been sneezing and I have a hint of a sore throat. Is it the beginning of a cold?

Walking into Harbick's Country Store in McKenzie Bridge is like stepping into a time warp. The classic "General Store." They have generally everything. Hot food, cold food, dry goods, cleaning supplies, clothing, fishing and hunting supplies, tools etc. My specific goal was to find the right pair of gloves. I ran the McKenzie 50k Trail Run in 2002 and fell six times. I needed gloves that were light, breathable, but tough enough to protect the palms of my hands when I fell. Not if I fell, when I fell. It was inevitable. Strangely, it was never in the technical, rocky, winding, chiseled lava sections, it was usually after that when you take a deep breath and relax and start looking more than three feet down the trail, or taking a drink of water or messing with a GU pack. Catch a root or small rock and Wham! Get up, brush yourself off and start again. Each fall reminding you to pay attention and I managed to forget five more times.

Harbick's must have a hundred and fifty types of gloves to choose from. I settled on some stretch nylon gloves with rubber coated palms and fingers. The rubber was a dense light gray coating that I figured would do a great job of protecting my palms from rocks and gravel. My thoughtful and caring wife Shelly thought they might not breath enough so I cut the fingers off. Now they resembled biking gloves. Perfect.

It rained continuously Friday night and I revisited thoughts of running the race in a downpour. That would not be fun.

Shelly, my sons Weston, age four and Callahan, a year and a half and I spent the night in a leaky teepee behind the Log Cabin Inn. Seemed like a fine idea when we booked it a month ago when it was 90 degrees out.

I got up at 6:15 and it was raining lightly. I stepped in a puddle and my right sock got wet. I hitched a ride with Jim and Dave to the start.

Pre-race at the McKenzie Trail Run is like a reunion. Many in this unique and eclectic crowd only see each other at ultra races. Smiles and hand shakes created a very warm gathering on a cool, misty morning.

Phil Vaughn is the race director and he announced we had three minutes until the start. The crowd stepped behind the line and Phil started the race. It's about 50 degrees and not raining.

It was only then the anxiety subsided. I was finally running the race I'd spent so much mental and physical energy training for the last 5 months.

The race leaves Carmen Reservoir over the McKenzie and up the trail past Koosah and Sahalie Falls. It is so beautiful and surreal you want to stop and take it all in but I can't because I have a goal. A time to beat. That time is 4:37:40. Christian's PR at McKenzie is 4:37:41. What a coincidence...

The trail continues up river and across the highway and around Clear Lake. There's about a mile long out and back and we see the leaders coming towards us bombing down the trail. The four lead runners remind me of a fast moving train. The combination of speed and power is impressive. John Ticer, a 48 year old firefighter from Eugene went on to win the race for the second year in a row, setting a course record in 3:42:50. Simply unbelievable.

I hit my splits fairly close through the first two aid stations. I eat a brownie, take a couple sodium/electrolyte capsules every hour, try to drink a bottle of water between each aid station and I feel wonderful. My water bottle leaks if I squeeze it too hard so I have to carefully sip without applying too much pressure. It's a minor nuisance.

I'm running at a pace that feels effortless. Running shorter distances I'm always pushing to keep pace, checking my watch each mile. Up here you just run. You run at a pace you think you can maintain for more than four hours. I run really well through some of the most difficult and beautiful parts like the Blue Pool area but I can't take my eyes off the trail for a second. Every step is critical. No sight seeing today.

My only concern now is my wet socks. By mile seventeen I really want to change my socks and my crew, Shelly and the boys appear like angels right next to the trail and help me change. I'm back on the trail within minutes.

The minutes and hours melt together as I cruise along fern lined trails, moss covered rocks around tall firs and cedars and over log bridges. I arrive at the fifth and final aid station at mile 25.1 and I'm three minutes ahead of schedule. I feel awesome with six miles to go. In fact I see three other runners so I leave the water bottle at the aid station so I can run harder and I target them to try and pass. It doesn't seem to be working. They are slipping further away with each turn. Is it me fading or them getting stronger? It must be a combination of both. With three miles to go it's definitely me fading. I'm struggling. With a mile and half to go I need to really concentrate hard to keep running and try to ignore the pain in my tired legs.

I come around a corner and a young kid calls out my number and I see the finish line at the top of the hill.

The race is over and I'm done. The clock reads 4:37:56, 16 seconds off my goal and 18 minutes faster than 2002. I'm tired, teary, relieved and very hungry. My crew attends to my every wish. I need a chair to sit in and it appears. I drink two Pepsi's, eat some brownies, a banana, orange slices, cookies and I'm feeling better. I look down and realize my customized fingerless gloves are clean and dry. I can't help but smile. It's the perfect ending to an amazing and unforgettable race.

Christian PRs by thirteen minutes. He raises the bar by lowering his time just when I thought I was closing in on him. I think the leaky water bottle he loaned me was no accident.

What a fantastic way to spend two hours for a track nerd! I spent my evening this evening at the Track Town Legends talk listening to Wade Bell, Roscoe Divine, Tom Heinonen, Kenny Moore, Jim Hill, Mike Manley, Cathie Twomey-Bellamy, and Kathy (Hayes) Herrmann talking about bygone days of track and field surrounding their experiences at Hayward Field.

Tom is encyclopedic in his memory and knowledge of the sport, quoting first and last names of high school women from 30 years ago and times from memory. Wade Bell and Roscoe were hilarious and gracious recounting some of their interactions with other world-class athletes. Kenny Moore's passion for the history of track and cross country in Eugene is immeasurable. All panelists had great stories

We're going to be breaking these stories down from the over two hours of video I took from this discussion. We'll be segmenting them into smaller, more digestible stories including Wade discussing how the eight-day Olympic Trials was invented, the incarnation of UO cross country success by Kenny Moore, and Cathie's experience with Athletic West as well as some of their contract situations.

As we continue to keep busy with Olympic Trials preparations and surrounding meet coverage, this material will sprinkle in gradually over the next month or so. We really look forward to sharing this priceless event with you and will certainly feature the event once we get all the stories up!

I wrote last week (or was it two, or three weeks ago?) about typical conversations runners find themselves in when discussing their running to people who are, we'll say, less educated about the sport of running.  In this chapter, I'll pull out another couple of typical scenerios that many of you I'm sure have encountered.

If I encounter someone who has at least a basic familiarity with running and asks me “what distance?” (to which I respond “the mile”), I’m often taken on a trip back into the dark forgotten corners of the memory where I help with the frantic search of trying to remember “who that one guy was that broke the four minute mile back in . . .” “Roger Bannister.”  “Thank you!”  I then explain that a four minute mile among the elites is a joke and that the athletes who are winning the bigger international meets are running under 3:50. 

If the memory search serves not to find Bannister, but rather an old high school mile time run, no doubt, in high tops on the high school track in P.E. right after lunch, I call ahead to the ER to come pick up my passed out former 9:30 miler in advance of informing him what elite milers are now running.

Having utmost respect for how Bannister accomplished his goal, I yet often find myself walking on the edges of brutal honesty and patronization when explaining how badly Rog would get his ass kicked by some of our current stars, Lagat, Daniel K., Webb, and so on.  But I'm sure many of you have found yourselves answering the same exact questions.  Tell me what you've come up with, I need some new material here people!

Part I: Running = Marathoning

Ok, runners, let’s face it: our sport is complicated.  Not the running part, not the workouts even, but the idea of it.  The fact that 99.9% of us do it for absolutely no financial compensation and that an equal percentage of us will never make the Olympics, or even a National Championships.  The idea that we do this sport out of the sheer joy the journey towards our goals gives us when many in our Western culture were subjected, no, forced to do it as part of our K-12 gym classes and the only way out was to present a doctor’s note claiming exercise-induced asthma or something equivalent and even then you were probably made to walk!  People, non-runners, don’t get it, and what people don’t understand, they largely ignore.  So when I talk to people, mostly non-runners, but often casual runners as well, one of four topics generally come up: marathon running, Roger Bannister, high school mile times, and doping or performance-enhancing drugs.  As the many conversations (some pleasant, some agonizingly painful) of your own come to mind that stem from these common themes, allow me to digress. 

At times, as a middle distance runner, I’ve felt like my running is being completely invalidated by those who believe the marathon is synonymous with running.  I once told a lady I wasn’t going to run the L.A. Marathon.  Her sympathetic yet extremely disappointed reply was, “Oh . . . well . . . maybe next year!”  My chin resting on my feet, she walked off before I had a chance to rebut. 

Another popular response I’ve received regards the ability to cover the 26.2 mile distance.  I’ve been running cross country and track for over a decade, it’s what I do, my passion in life, like so many of you.  Respecting that casual runners or people who don’t run regularly at all put in the work to run an entire marathon over a brief training period (six months usually), I delicately explain that I’ve been running consistently for much longer than six months and that covering the distance would not be a concern for someone who has made distance running a career.  Obviously not delicately enough in all circumstances, I’m faced with such pointed questions of, “Well how do you know if you’ve never done it?  Because if you’ve never done it, then you can’t say you could do it!”  This seems a lot to me like asking someone who has done anything if they could do it a little longer.  The human experience is all about accomplishing that which we didn’t know we could.  Write that down.  But what I’m really trying to say is, there’s more than just accomplishing something.  We can show up to work to do our jobs, or we could do it with a smile on our face.  We could attend class or we could get good grades too.  We can show up to practice but we can work hard while we’re there too.  Again, taking nothing away from those whose primary goal is to complete a marathon (because I believe that many smaller goals lead up to this ultimate one), but don’t forget that there is more.  Can you do it again, but faster next time?  Can you motivate someone else to do it based on your own experiences?  Can you live the rest of your life with the same dedication that it took to accomplish this goal?  I continue to run because I know I can get faster.  I know I will continue to run beyond my prime because I know there is much to be gained in my own life from the running experience. 

    Now that you’ve had some time to think about your own stories, please post them below as comments, I’d love to hear how you respond to the question, “Oh, you’re a runner, are you going to run a marathon?!”  Perhaps you can provide me with some new material.

The subtlety the waitresses pull of being surprised to see me and my friends at the exact same time every week is not lost on me. In fact, it's great. This mandatory Tuesday night treat has become expected among our small crew of competitive runners. 6th Street Bar & Grill in Eugene offers perhaps the greatest $6 Burger and beer combo in town. I'm not going to be outrageous and say it's the greatest thing our country has to offer, but it's good enough to solidify that there is really only one place you'll be able to find me, my roommates, and Max King every Tuesday at 5pm.

That's right, 5pm. The restaurant looks more like grandparents visiting a geriatric ward than a restaurant at that time, but hey, you gotta get there early if you don't want to wait around, right? And trust me, you won't want to wait. The burgers are absolutely packed with goodness. I'll leave something out, but they include two kinds of cheese, lettuce, tomato, pickle, guacamole, onion, and much, much love.

The beers of choice at our table are typically Guiness and root beer (yours truly, thank you), but obviously aren't limited to the standard national brands. Fries are thick, steak fry style, and after starving yourself all day in anticipation, seem like you could never get enough. Max has considered doubling up on the dinner. I look forward to that day.

There are runners who don't care what they eat, and there are runners who measure every ounce of every bite carefully with a periodic table in one hand and a scale in the other. But we believe in the "everything in moderation" theory, and I believe in "comfort food." Being an athlete is fun! Eating what you enjoy eating puts a smile on your face and relieves stress. So get over to 6th Street with your uptight too-food-conscious running partner and shove a steaming hot hunk o' burger, fries, and a brew down their throat! And if you get there early enough to catch me and my friends, pull up a chair!

Written on 2/18/08 - This was such a great event! The San Diego weather was in FULL cooperation and I've got a sunburn to prove it! It seemed like the athletes had a good time for the most part, there were some great races, highlighted by the close finish in the junior boys' race and a tight race up front in the masters mens' as the country's best came out to play.

I want to thank Thom Hunt and Paul Greer for directing such a successful event that drew 5,000 spectators, as well as Jim Estes for taking the time to help me figure out the best footage we can post and still fall under USATF Guidelines.

The sentiment I took from the top ten men's finishers is that they were happy with who made the team, given what the course in Edinburgh will present. Many on the squad seem to be "true" cross country runners highlighted by Ritz, Max, and the Torres bros. And speaking of, how great was it to see Eduardo make the team with his brother?

Shalane is an absolute monster, and it's great to hear that her first ever altitude training in Mexico is going well. Dathan seems far beyond the injury he sustained in Scotland, but I've yet to speak with him since the race. Led by these two, I think both teams look fairly solid heading into the World Championships in Scotland.

Congrats again to the athletes and thank you again to the meet organizers, let's continue making our sport great in America and abroad!