Never Lose the Child Inside

“As often as I have witnessed the miracle, held the perfect creature with its tiny hands and feet, each time I have felt as though I were entering a cathedral with prayer in my heart.” – Margaret Sanger

The collage Three Generations on the Run featured in my January 2013 Art of Running post is a representation of my grandson, son and I running on a trail in Peace Valley Park in Bucks County, Pennsylvania. The collage, made from cutouts of articles I had published and photos I’d shot, was created by my Aunt Jo, an Irish artist. To me, it captures a lifetime of memories.

I was twenty-four years old when my first child was born; three more followed before I turned thirty. Those years were the most wonderful, hectic, fun, insane years of my life. The crazy thing is, as frantic as my life was—working impossible hours, going to night school, constantly traveling on business, and somehow always maintaining some sort of running routine—my memories of those years are dominated by the times I spent with my kids.

Between them they played baseball, softball, hockey, gymnastics, wrestled, soccer and football. All four of them ran races and entered cycling events with me. We ran the Broad Street Run ten-miler through the heart of Philadelphia, the Distance Run Half Marathon, and so many 5K and 10Ks that I can’t remember; and we cycled from Philadelphia to Atlantic City in the Tour de Shore, along the Schuylkill Banks, and through the mountains of Berks County, Pennsylvania. When we weren’t running or cycling, we camped out, fished, hiked, trespassed, canoed, caught frogs, and misbehaved. Two of my sons just completed the Tough Mudder and will ride the 100-mile Livestrong Challenge this summer. Now my son-in-law and daughter-in-laws get into the act.

Last year my second oldest son was the first in the family to compete in a triathlon. I told him if he completed the triathlon, I would enter it next year. Do you know how fast a year goes? So next week I’ll jump into the Schuylkill River with Jay for the first leg of the PhillyTri. What will be next?

To me, Father’s Day is a reflection, and I’m fortunate to have nothing but wonderful memories to reflect upon. Don’t get me wrong, we had challenges and battles like any other family, but I think they made us stronger and we can look back and find humor in them. Today we’ll be together and laugh, play games, share a meal, and more than a beer or two. The grandkids will never stop running, the dogs will run from them, I’ll be checking out my daughter-in-laws new garden we’d just planted last month, and we’ll carry on like we’re all kids again. I’ll share with you advice I tell my kids all the time, “Never lose the child inside.”

Happy Father’s Day!

What I Learned About Running at a Writer’s Retreat

“When running, the mind flies with the body; the mysterious efflorescence of language seems to pulse in the brain.” – Joyce Carol Oates

Cabin in the woods at the Rowe Center in northwestern Massachusetts where fellow-runners/writers confided that running nurtures their writing process.

Distance runners refer to the final stage of marathon training as tapering because it is the phase they cut back on rigorous exercise to allow their body to recover. As I taper for my first triathlon in less than two weeks, I’ve come up with a new strategy—retreat. Rather than spend the final weekend on foot, in the saddle of my bike or stroking through the water, I spent it on my butt with a pen in my hand scribbling at writer’s retreat hosted by The Sun, an unlikely place to reinforce my longstanding hypothesis that running nurtures the creative process of writing.

Cloistered in a humble abode, I pondered the writing and running connection.

Among the nearly one hundred writers who attended, there were a few runners. We runners somehow seem to seek one another out, either inadvertently or on the trail; this time it was inadvertently on all accounts. During the course of the weekend, I posed some variation of the following question to each of them: “Do you find that running helps your writing?”

In each case, the writer/runner enthusiastically said that running was an essential part of their writing process. One said that running enables her to access her bigger self, meaning to expand beyond the confines of her conventional thinking and open up to new and broader ideas. Another told me that many times when she is stuck on a scene or needs inspiration for a story, she hits the trail and finds that inspiration. When I asked the question the other writer, an author of several books and faculty member, his eyes lit up and he said, “Oh yes,” as if I’d asked him if the sun really does rise in the east each morning. He told me he runs seven to eight miles each day, and that, invariably, it is during the run when creativity happens, where he solves scenes, creates characters, or gets ideas for stories.

I described to him that running breaks up the logjam in my brain when I’m stuck, the dreaded writer’s block, which generated an exchange of stories about the times on the trail when dialogue for a character evolved, or the solution for a story unfolded. On the topic of being stuck, prolific writer Joyce Carol Oates, author of more than forty novels, says, “The structural problems I set for myself in writing, in a long, snarled, frustrating and sometimes despairing morning of work, for instance, I can usually unsnarl by running in the afternoon.”

According to Oates, “Writers and poets are famous for loving to be in motion. If not running, hiking; if not hiking, walking.” Most writers agree that writing doesn’t always happen at the computer or with pen in hand, but while their body is in motion. Runners may be partial to running, but writing happens during other activities as well, such as gardening, cooking, painting, or just plain old playing.

In a 1999 Writers on Writing interview with the New York Times , Oates concludes, “the twin activities of running and writing keep the writer reasonably sane and with the hope, however illusory and temporary, of control.” Click here for the full New York Times Writers on Writing interview with Joyce Carol Oates

Must Reads for Runners Who Don’t Care for Running Books

“Writing novels, to me, is basically a kind of manual labor. Writing itself is mental labor, but finishing an entire book is closer to manual labor.” – Haruki Murakami

A writer new  to our workshop sat across the table from me last night. He was a thirtyish, lean, serious-looking guy. I looked at his sweatshirt and tapped the woman next to me and asked, “Ever hear of that race?” pointing to the Leadville 100 logo.

Leadville, Colorado – 10,200 ft elevation

“No,” she said, which sent me into story-telling mode about the Leadville 100 and Born to Run by Christopher McDougall. The further I got with the story, the more I could feel my excitement rising, and it reminded me of why I wrote about the book in Books That Speak to the Heart of a Runner. Nearly two years after I posted that blog, I now realize there are deeper reasons these books resonate with me, and here they are:

What I Talk About When I Talk About Running by Haruki Marakumi: Marakumi’s story isn’t about an athlete nurtured in the routines and practices of running. In fact, he was a jazz club owner who smoked like a chimney until one day when he was in his thirties he was watching a professional baseball game in Japan and had an epiphany to write a novel. Since then he’s published over a dozen novels and become an international best-selling author. He started running because the writing life is a sedentary lifestyle. Marakumi has completed marathons and triathlons around the globe, and at sixty-four still runs a marathon each year.

I think the reason Marakumi’s story resonates in my bones is because I spent my early life working as a warehouseman and shipyard welder. Squalid waterfront pubs were no stranger to my environs. In those days I never dreamed I’d one day be a marathoner and writer.

On the trail at the Double Trouble Trail Run, French Creek State Park, PA

Born to Run by Christopher McDougall: Most running books are predictable in their tone, terminology, and message. McDougall’s story about the obscure Tarahumara tribe in Copper Canyons of Mexico is anything but predictable. There is something sublime about the counterculture, offbeat and rebellious qualities that underly the trail running culture.

I ran my first marathon in 1981, and countless road races before I ran my first trail run in 2001. After twenty years on the road, I immediately detected a profound difference in the culture between the two. Trail runners wore their hair a bit longer, a few more faces were unshaven, and bare-chested runners were more common (male runners, of course.) The parking lot had more Jeeps and SUVs and less BMWs and Audis; and noticeably more bike and kayak racks, and off-beat and obscene bumper stickers. The crowd was more gregarious, less uptight and livelier after the race; they’d also been weaned from those tasteless light beers. I felt among my tribe with the trail runners.

Running & Being by George Sheehan: Dr. Sheehan, the guru, was a running traditionalist, but a free-thinker whose words are gospel, the essence of why we run. Running & Being was the first time I read the exact thoughts that had been going through my mind for decades while I was on a long run. Dr. Sheehan’s observations are perceptive, and his words enduring. I have yet to come across anyone who approaches his keen sense of what makes a runner tick. He professed that there is magic in taking an hour run, which was the genesis for his immortal words:

-  “Running is a runner’s work of art.”

-   “But then my fitness program was never a fitness program. It was a campaign, a revolution, a conversion. I was determined to find myself. And, in the process, found my body and the soul that went with it.”

-   “A runner runs because he has to.”

-    “True, running does not fill my day. But it influences the rest of what I do and how I do it. From it come my role and the style in which I play it. In it I find myself and my design. I start in play, use myself increasingly, and end in joy.”

I look for that feeling every time I lace up the running shoes, and aspire to get even a glimpse of what the guru saw on his hour run.

How A Hard Rocker Inspired A Story About Running

I’m on my knees, I’m praying for a sign, Forever, whenever, I never wanna die

- Foo Fighters

When I’m around people my own age and get on a Dave Groul kick, I usually get funny looks, like I should be listening to something more tame, controlled. Don’t get me wrong, The Boss is still the man, Mick rules, and Dylan is eternal. But when I need energy, like mile twenty-three in a marathon energy, I gotta blast the Foo.

So I was thinking of lead singer Dave Groul when I wrote I Died Today in the Middle of a Two-hour Run that appeared in Every Day Fiction. The young officer in the story pulled the iPod buds from my ears and heard the chorus from Walk:

I never wanna die

I never wanna die

I’m on my knees, I never wanna die

I’m dancing on my grave

I’m running through the fire

Forever, whenever

I never wanna die

The lyrics didn’t survive the editing process, and the irony was lost to anyone not familiar with the song. The older cop and farmer in the story didn’t have a clue what the young officer was talking about, and I found out later that many readers didn’t get it either.

If you care to read I Died Today in the Middle of a Two-hour Run you will now know the answer to the riddle as I lay dead on the side of the road.

Dave Grohl – huge on talent, voice of thunder, and all energy.

Art of Running, Part XI – Running Philly

The contrast between running in the country and running in the city is as different as drinking in a wine bar and an Irish Pub. The past few years, most of my running has been in Bucks County, PA where I see mostly deer, cows and corn stalks, and an occasional human being. That’s one of the reasons I look forward to my Monday morning runs in downtown Philly, to observe and breath-in a diverse cityscape that is one massive art gallery. In the Art of Running – Part III, I shared murals I see on the city streets during my Monday morning runs, but there is so much more to the downtown gallery. There are sculptures, architecture, bridges, a crashed war plane in an alleyway, a giant paint brush, and LOVE.

The Philadelphia Museum of Art is the backdrop for the Waterworks along the River Drive loop trail.

LOVE sculpture by Robert Indiana in Love Park (officially JFK Plaza) at the foot of Benjamin Franklin Parkway.

Sculpture of Benjamin Franklin at the printing press by Philadelphia sculpture Joe Brown who played football at Temple University and was a professional boxer for a short time.

Cold War era Grumman S2F anti-submarine warfare plane sculpture by Jordan Griska in Lenfest Plaza at 16th and Broad Streets.

Sculpture of a paint brush rises 51 feet above Lenfest Plaza with a six-foot paint glob on Broad Street below. The sculpture is designed by world-renowned artist Claes Oldenburg.

Philadelphia favorite Rocky Balboa in front of the Art Museum. Come run the steps.

Boathouse Row on Kelly Drive, a starting point for a popular 8.4-mile loop.

At the other end of Kelly Drive is the neighborhood of Manayunk. The historic Manayunk Bridge is at the foot of Main Street, also the turnaround point for the Philadelphia Marathon.

The Manayunk Bridge (a.k.a. Pencoyd Viaduct,) built in 1918, is a concrete open spandrel arch bridge on a reverse curve.

Manayunk Bridge rises above the Schuylkill River Trail that connects to Kelly Drive into Center City and out into Montgomery County. Popular with runners and cyclists, the trial is projected to span 130 miles when complete.

Last summer I posted Run, Cycle or Walk–The Best Way to Discover New Places. The message of the post was to slow down, get out of the car and take in your surroundings. It’s hard to absorb the beauty of the environment when you’re going fifty-miles-per-hour. Walk, peddle or run–you will be surprised what you find, and you’ll be better for it.

Murakami on Running, Writing, and the Boston Marathon

“For me, it’s through running, running every single day, that I grieve for those whose lives were lost and for those who were injured on Boylston Street.” – Haruki Murakami

Haruki Murakami, author of What I Talk About When I Talk About Running.

In running circles, Haruki Murakami isn’t a household name. Murakami is a sixty-four year old Japanese author of no less than a dozen novels, his latest the thousand-plus page magnum opus, 1Q84. He is also a marathoner, ultra-marathoner and triathlete. His memoir, What I Talk About When I Talk About Running is one of my top three running books I wrote about in Books That Speak to the Heart of a Runner.

What attracts me to Murakami is his introspection, about running and writing. His observations about running are deep, like “By then running had entered the realm of the metaphysical. First there came the action of running, and accompanying it was this entity known as me. I run; therefore I am.” His reflection on the labors of writing are no less analytical, “I have to pound the rock with a chisel and dig out a deep hole before I can locate the source of creativity.”

Murakami ran the Boston Marathon six times. He would run the Charles River banks when he taught at Harvard, and also as a visiting scholar at Tufts. Murakami recently shared his thoughts about the Boston Marathon and the April 15th attack in the New Yorker. He says Boston is the best marathon in the world. Why? “It’s simple: it’s the oldest race of its kind; the course is beautiful; and—here’s the most important point—everything about the race is natural, free. The Boston Marathon is not a top-down but a bottom-up kind of event; it was steadily, thoughtfully crafted by the citizens of Boston themselves, over a considerable period of time.”

Of the tragedy, Murakami says, “We need to remember the wounds, never turn our gaze away from the pain, and—honestly, conscientiously, quietly—accumulate our own histories. It may take time, but time is our ally.”

In What I Talk About, Murakami says, “Long distance running has molded me into the person I am today, and I’m hoping it will remain a part of my life for as long as possible. I’ll be happy if running and I can grow old together.” On his gravestone he’d like it to say this, “Writer (and Runner); At Least He Never Walked

Click Boston, From One Citizen of the World Who Calls Himself a Runner to read the entire New Yorker article.

The 27th Mile

The course of the Boston Marathon changed on April 15, 2013. Not the 26.2-mile course from Hopkinton to Boston, but the way in which people will think about the most celebrated road race in the world in the future. The events that occurred on Boylston Street at 2:49 pm that sunny afternoon will live on in the mind of runners, spectators, Bostonians, all of us, forever.

One week after the tragic event, Ray Charbonneau from Arlington, Massachusetts, contacted fellow-runners and writers with the idea to create an anthology to support the victims of the 2013 Boston Marathon. In a matter of days, more than seventeen writers and runners volunteered their time and support for the project, including a past Boston Marathon champion, a New York Marathon winner, and a former Edgar Award winner. Others who have stepped forward include a copy editor, a cover designer, and the Endorphin Report has given permission to use the27thmile.com and is also covering the cost of hosting the website. The lightening speed of this project was possible by the tireless efforts of author and runner, Ray Charbonneau.

In only two weeks the idea for the anthology The 27th Mile became reality. The anthology will be a collection of essays and stories, fiction and nonfiction, with the common theme of running. Not all of the stories will be about the Boston Marathon, perhaps not about the marathon at all, but they will all be united by the passion we runners have to plod one foot in front of the other for endless miles.

All proceeds for the book will go to One Fund, established to raise money to help the families most affected by the tragic events that unfolded during the 2013 Boston Marathon. Periodic updates about status of the anthology and publication date will appear at the27thmile.com and Rite2Run. Share the word about The 27^th Mile with family, friends, associates and acquaintances who would enjoy reading inspirational stories for a worthy cause.