Who is Sylvia Ruegger and why we should care?

I know what I did to get that time. Don’t take it away. Don’t take it away.
Sylvia Ruegger

Sylvia Ruegger, Los Angeles Olympic Games 1984, Marathon Event

In other countries Sylvia Ruegger would be an iconic figure, but here in Canada she's virtually an unknown.  That's a pity.  We really should care more for our iconic figures. Who is Sylvia Ruegger and why should we care?  

Ruegger is a retired Olympic runner who holds the Canadian women's fastest marathon record with a time of 2:28:36 set in 1985 in Houston, Texas. Twenty-eight years later her record is still intact although Lannie Marchant and Krista DuChene are nipping at her heals. In 1984 Ruegger at age 23 (the second youngest runner) placed 8th out of a field of 50 women in the first ever Women's Olympic Marathon held in Los Angeles with a time of 2:29:09 (which coincidently is still faster than Lannie and Krista by about 2 minutes).  Her record is our record and this should make us proud. 

Are we proud? Do we care?

We should care because there is a good chance that Ruegger will be stripped of this record because some believe it was testosterone enhanced. Testosterone enhanced? What the heck.... is there a pee test for that? What does that even mean?

The International Track and Field committee say she had an advantage by running on a course with men. Incredibly (I can't make this stuff up) the International Track and Field Committee believe that by running with men she benefited by having male pacers. This new ruling also applies to Paula Radcliffe (at 2:15:25 Paula is the fastest women's marathoner on the planet) and all other women that have competed on a course with men. The current practice is to have women start 45 minutes before men.

In Sylvia's words:

Go after the dopers. There’s assisted, right. We did it clean. We did it on hard work and sacrifice. If one of those guys wants to come and look at all my journals of what I did, the price I paid to run that time, it was not because there was a guy running in the race, it was because I ran 200 kilometres a week and gave up everything else 

I ran 26.2 miles in 2:28 and I hurt doing it. And I didn’t do it because I was ‘helped’ by anyone. Like c’mon. There was no guy around me. Take a look at the footage. Even if there are guys around you, you still have to take every step on your own. You have to pull on that personal resolve, that mental strength, that fortitude, all of those hours you put in training.”

Ted's Run for Literacy race committee received an email from Sylvia the other day in which she explained how her mother helped her train early mornings before the sun rose. Sylvia grew up in the country where there were no street lights.  Her mother believed in her daughter and recognized the deep passion she had for running. She patiently drove the family car behind Sylvia, lighting the way for her daughter, lovingly pointing her in the right direction, as she trained those lonely 200 kilometres a week for a record that's on the brink of becoming obsolete.  

Sylvia is currently the National Director for Start 2 Finish, Running & Reading Clubs. Here at Start 2 Finish she works as hard -perhaps harder- as she did in 1985 on that 'testosterone enhanced' course, helping to break the cycle of childhood poverty through nurturing the minds, bodies, and social health of countless Canadian children. Ted's Run For Literacy is a proud supporter of Sylvia and Start 2 Finish.  Come run Ted's Run for Literacy on October 20.  Run for Ted.  Run for Sylvia. Run to break the cycle of childhood poverty. You can register here.

So friends, that's Sylvia's story in a nutshell.  I hope you care. I hope she makes you proud. I hope you will share her story with your family this evening over dinner, or on your next run with a friend.  Tell the story, honour the person. 

It's a good day to be alive.

Mike

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Ottawa Marathon 2013; A Family Affair

All you need is love.
John Lennon

All you need is less.

Robert L. Peters

All you need is family.

Mike

Yup, that's me at mile 25... left curb... one third up... black hat... white long sleeve...
The half-marathon course converged with the full-course about a mile previous to this picture.  
Most runners in the picture are halves. (photo credit Jennifer, click to super size)

My eleventh marathon was the best that I've run in a couple of years.  So many things came together to make this race a success. The coolish weather, the beautiful course, the strong crowd support all contributed to making this marathon simply perfect. But it was family, my Ontario family, that made it a truly spectacular day. 

All you need is family.

My 84 year old mother in-law was upset because she left her cowbell and drumstick at home. Why does an 84 year old women have a cowbell and drumstick?  She bought one, of course, in 2010 to support me when I ran the Chicago Marathon.  Yup, she was there too. Banging on the cowbell and cheering me on.

All you need is family.

I tease her... without that cowbell I can't guarantee a win.  

All you need is family.

My sister in-law, Paula teases me over pre-race pasta and wine... you have to win because I bet the house on you taking first place.  If you don't win I'm ruined!  And then, over post race beers she asks ... what am I to do now?  I'm homeless and it's your fault!  

All you need is family.

I received an email from Toronto Chris minutes after crossing over the line, not bad for an old guy he teases. Chris had just crossed the finish line of Boston when the explosion occurred and he's a remarkable runner.  

All you need is family.  

Later, post marathon in a bar watching the Blue Jays, my mother in-law insists I wear my medal.  I say no, it's not important to me, she replies emphatically  it's important to me, put it on!  I drape it around my neck and onlookers smile and nod in support. She hugs and kisses me Quebec style. 

All you need is family.

Jennifer, supporting me with gentle patience, sweet nutrition, and an over abundance of love for the entire training period leap frogs the course cheering and snapping pictures.  Ten days before race day I say... can we just agree that next week is all about me?

To which she replies... and how is that different from the week before that and the weeks before that and the week before that, and the week before that....  

All you need is family.  

Mile 13.5, down hill, putting on the brakes before the quads seize
(photo credit Jennifer)

And now for the numbers... zzzz... I trained for a 4:15 marathon with 20:1 walk breaks and I managed to slip over the line at 4:14:35.3. I logged just under 600 training miles in 5 months for this marathon ... in cruel conditions. My time is not stellar, not a personal best, not even close to remarkable... it's barely a blip on the damn scoreboard... and yet for me, this old flatlander from peg city, it's a respectable time, even admirable.  The numbers say  I placed 153/235 in my age category (55-59), 2395/3141 by gender, and 3190/4922 overall and yet my family, my beautiful family, made me feel like a Kenyan. I didn't cross the finish line, I soared. 

All you need is family.

Nine family gathered post race for dinner and wine in a downtown Ottawa restaurant. Four were under 30, two were newly married.  All were family. All were happy. The talk was loose, open, non-judgemental, laughter resonated. It was not about the marathon, it was not about the wedding, it was about family, and roots, and love, deep unrequited love.  

So my friends, love your family fiercely, know that they are there for you as you will be there for them. Heal the wounds. Swallow your pride. Apologize like you mean it. Sit on a warm dock with a chilled Chardonay and enjoy the time that is now.

All you need is family. 

It's a good day to be alive.

Mike

These Sweaters My Mother Knit

success

she has achieved success
who has lived well 
laughed often and loved much

who has looked for the best in others 
and given then them the best she had
... 

whose life was an inspiration, 

whose memory is a benediction.

bessie a. stanley

These sweaters my mother knit, they continue to wrap me in warmth and love.

It's a good day to be alive, remembering my mother.

Mike

4:09:44 into the 3rd Wave

Some people wake up on Monday mornings

Barring maelstrom and red flare warnings

With no explosion and no surprises

Perform a series of exercises

Andrew Bird, Simple x from the album Armchair Apocrypha

"After you've run 26 miles you're not going to stop there." 
Bill Iffrig, 3 meters from the finish line.

At 4 hours, 9 minutes and 44 seconds into the third wave 78 year old Bill Iffrig was steps away from completing his 3rd Boston Marathon when the first of two bombs detonated.  The concussive force knocked him off his feet and rendered him temporarily deaf.  As he lay crumpled, stunned on Boylston Street he attempted to make sense of the incomprehensible.  He saw the second bomb explode and his mind seized. He was immediately surrounded by police and race officials. As he lay on the pavement a volunteer helped him to his feet and offered him a wheel chair. Bill declined the chair and crossed the line on wobbly legs with ears ringing.  He then walked another 6 blocks to his hotel.    

A reporter later asked Bill why he declined the wheelchair to which he replied "After you've run 26 miles you're not going to stop there."

At 4:09:44 into the third wave chaos erupted and terror seized Boston. This is the exact instant that smart phones world wide lit up, including mine.  This is the nano-second that social media sites flooded the airwaves.  This is when the images of dismembered bodies and blood pouring flashed world wide.  We saw the chaos and the insanity... we saw it all in internet real time.

Of all the images from this tragic event this is the one that continues to haunts me. I am drawn to the fluorescent yellow police vests and the bright red of Bill's singlet. The vibrant colours show strength and yet they are contrasted with incredible vulnerability.  The wisp of Bill's grey hair, his age, the faded white line, the multi-national flags blowing stiff from the blast, the smoke, the chaos. 

But it's the wisp of hair that is the focal point.  I carried a blurry image of this photograph on my long run this morning. The wisp of hair. The red singlet.  The thinness of body. Legs buckling. Crumpled body. The incredible pragmatism of Bill's words ... you're not going to stop there... as if to challenge the evil head on.  A wisp of hair. A wisp of fate.  A wisp of humanity. 

Life is but a wisp.

I received an email from a friend at the finish line. He witnessed the carnage and the insanity in technicolor. He paraphrased Jack Layton's final words to our beloved nation... love is stronger than hate...  In the context of the evil abounding the words cause my eyes to brim with tears. It seems abundantly appropriate to repeat the words here in their entirety. 

My friends, love is better than anger. Hope is better than fear. Optimism is better than despair. So let us be loving, hopeful and optimistic.
And we'll change the world.

Yes friends, it's a good day to be alive, but it is also sad.  Let us be loving, hopeful and optimistic on this day and on all days. 

When will you run today?

Mike

We are with you Boston

An unbelievable, awful day. It started out so beautifully. Pure joy on so many faces. Then this thing of evil. I am struggling to comprehend. My friends are all safe, although some families have lost loved ones. Such pure evil. All of Boston is in shock. But I know this: love is stronger than hate.

Bill Dieh-Jones, 4.15.13

I had just passed 0.2 miles to go on Bolylston. I heard and saw the first blast but I thought it was a celebratory fireworks thing. The second was a block closer. Now a little scary (but I was SO close to the finish line. Then, police, ambulances, fire trucks, black SUV's and men in uniform with automatic rifles. I'm from Canada. Now it was getting scary. I could smell the smoke. I went into the Mandarin Hotel to use the restroom. They closed Boylston with baracades from along the sidewalks. Then they sent us out of the hotel into the mall. Then into the street. Thankfully I met my wife (by LUCK!!). We could not get to our hotel which was blocked off. I was in wet running clothes! We got around a back street and convinced them to let us in through the basement.  I didn't start shaking until I heard how many people were injured or killed. I haven't stopped shaking yet.
Bob Steinberg, 4.15.13

We are deeply saddened at the news coming from Boston today. Our thoughts and prayers are with the City of Boston and everyone affected by this tragedy
City Park Runners, 4.15.13

Oh my God! TWO explosions at the finish line of Boston marathon! Saw a photo of several runners down with police everywhere and quite a bit of blood where several runners were down. Still trying to find out some details. Very scary situation.

Gary Gobiel, 4.15.13

Vivian?  How is Vivian?
Michael Bennett, 4.15.13

Jake, Tim and I were waiting for Vivian at the family area a block away when the explosion happened.  I had crossed the finish line about 30 minutes before the explosion and made my way to the family area where Jake and Tim were waiting.  A few minutes later Kevin arrived just after the bombs went off.  He had finished five minutes before the blast and saw the smoke from the explosion.  The noise was terrifying especially after hearing the second blast.  After five minutes they cleared the streets for emergency vehicles. I had not heard from Vivian and she was due any minute so I was very worried. Later I learned that she had been stopped at mile 25.9.  She had fallen off her pace goal to stretch and walk a bit.  Had she kept on pace as planned it might have been terrible.  Thanks for thinking of us.
David Cormie, 4.15.13

We're all sitting here in a bar and just hugging each other.
Vivian Rachlis, 4.15.13

By attacking the marathon community, you're picking a fight with some of the most resilant, peaceful people on earth.  We are strong as individuals, but even stronger as a united running community.
Jean-Paul Bedard, 4.15.13

The images of evil are beyond human comprehension. We flood the airwaves with hope and love.  We are with you Boston.

We take some measure of comfort knowing our Manitoban runners and their families are safe and yet we mourn for the dead, the maimed, and the loss of innocence. 

With tears brimming and with a heavy heart I say to you friends, it is a good day to be alive.

Mike

Gerald Boulet

David Cormie

Gordon Dalling

Doug DeJong

Bill Diehl-Jones

Kevin Donnelly

Brian Drummond

Jake Fehr

Fiona Fleming

Randy Gabel

Cathey Gornick

Marlis Jabs

Ray Jones

Mark Lawall

Justin Mangin

Mike McGovern

Peter Pazerniuk

John Power

Vivian Rachlis

David Ranta

Melanie Sifton

Marcel Sorin

Bob Steinberg

Tim Turner

David Watt

Julie Whelen

Running San Antonio

Last week I had the good fortune of running in San Antonio, Texas.  I left on the Wednesday and returned late Sunday night.  I managed three little runs; 6 miles, 7, miles and then on Sunday, 15 miles. I was attending a national conference called Council for Exceptional Children of which I am the co-chair of the Winnipeg Division. The conference was great, but really, this is a running blog so I'll cut to the chase.

The first little run, 6 miles, was out the front door of the hotel and onto the river trail. The trail hugs the banks of the San Antoni River and meanders through the heart of the city. It's congested and touristy but very pretty.  Shops and restaurants line the trail and it's thick with pedestrians.  I saw the odd runner but truly, as gorgeous as it is, it's not the best place to run because of the crowds.  The river walk branches off into several directions so it's easy to get spun around.  You're also well below street level so there are virtually no reference points. I made my way back to the Hyatt showered and returned to the area where I discovered Springer, a local beer with a bit of a bite.  

The second little run was away from the crowds.  I planned 6 mile route that led out of the downtown area.  I planned a circle route but I managed to get myself lost.  It was all fine until I found myself under this huge freeway with roadways zigging and zagging about 20 feet overhead.  The area was a little run down and I must say I was feeling a little unsafe.  

While running I was stopped three times by people in cars asking for directions.  I managed to help the first two out, but I was completely lost when an older women with blue hair and a cigarette asked for directions to Pete's Liquor Emporium.  I said "Lady, I'm from Canada and I'm probably more lost than you, but you're the third person to ask me for directions so I'm beginning to think I look like a local."  She screeched off but not before I snapped a picture. 

The third little run was the most pleasant. I was well fuelled from the previous evening's meal and I managed to convince the front desk to extend my check-out to noon. I left the hotel after a mediocre Starbucks coffee (does Starbucks serve anything but mediocre?).  I ran from city centre to the San Antonio Zoo, met up with some local runners and had a nice chat.  I was out of water so one of them gave me chilled bottle of water; nice that.  I ran through a forested area and over a bridge.  A man flagged me down to chat about my Minneapolis Marathon tee-shirt.  He was from Wisconsin and was feeling a little homesick. 

Watching the clock I realized I better head on back to the hotel.  I passed by the San Antonio School of Art so I had to detour to see it up close... stunning. I realized I had about 45 minutes to spare so I ran passed my hotel into the wealthy end of San An.  Back on the river trail which is now the back yard of zillion dollar gated condo developments.  I ran and I ran.  I just did not want to stop.  Finally I ran out of trail.  There was a group on bicycles so I chatted. I asked how to get back to the hotel and they gave me a couple of options.  I asked if the lived in the area and they chuckled and replied they were housekeepers for several different homes in the area.  

Back at the hotel just before noon, showered, packed, sitting on the patio of my favourite restaurant with a very chilled Springer, thinking yes, it is indeed a good day to be alive.. all pumped up on vitamin D.

Cheers friends... sorry for the blather. I ran 22 miles today on dry pavement with warm sun and I was strong right to the finish. The Ottawa Marathon is about 40 days away and it don't seem so scary anymore.

Thank you for reading. You are all wonderful folks.  

It's a good day to be alive.

Mike

Running the Alamo

I told my wife that I've been slacking on the blog writing lately.  She said I was just being blazy I did have the good fortune of running in San Antonio Texas for 5 days last week.  I promise I will blog it, but man, I'm busy.. and, truth be told,  a little blazy.  

You all be good and know that you're wonderful folks, all of you.  You might not realize it because of your life circumstance, but believe me, it's a good day to be alive.

:)  Mike

My Running Brain

Memory really defines who we are. Without memory we have no past, without our memory we cannot plan for the future, and it really helps us appreciate the moment. 

Dr. Gary Small, UCLA Centre for Memory and Aging

This is my office brain.

This is my running brain.

I watched CBC's  Doc Zone, Now Where Did I Put My Memory and it got me thinking of loved ones.

When I run I recognize that my brain is stimulated and considerably more aware of the moment than when I am sedentary.  While running my brain allows me to peek into the future and consider life's options with astonishing clarity.  While running I think of past events, of relationships, of possibilities, of hopes, of successes and failures. I make connections to events and the connections give meaning.  My running brain is different than my office brain.  My office brain is rationale, linear, sequential and locked in formality. My running brain by comparison is vibrant, free, receptive, colourful, and multi-dimensional. 

The question shouldn't be why do you run?... that's easy, we run because it makes us happy. The real question is why does running make us happy?  That question is more complex and requires deeper thinking. A big part of why running makes me happy is because it stimulates my brain and projects images that I would never see while sedentary.  My running brain makes me happy because of the colours I see and the textures I feel.  Running brings clarity to the nuances of life. My running brain makes me happy because of the answers it provides and the questions it raises. My running brain heightens my awareness of myself in this moment.  

This morning while running ... my brain locks into the crunching of the ice underfoot. It is a metronome to my heart.  The hoar frost, so stunningly gorgeous, soothes all worries ... how can there be problems with hoar frost so close, so thick, so intricate?  My brain negotiates winding trails and icy patches, calculating and adapting, knowing when to slow, when to go.  It's hyper-tuned to the moment.  But I ramble.

Hoar Frost, March 29

My loved ones?  There is a family person in my life with cancer.  She connects my brain to my past with tenderness and love.  She firmly anchors me to the present with pride and devotion.  This person, this loved one with cancer with months to live, she prepare me for my future with grace, and dignity.  

I run because it makes me happy.  Running makes me happy because it floods my brain with memories.  My running brain connects me with loved ones and delivers me to simpler times. Running plants me in the present and provides moments of brilliance, of clairvoyance.  My running brain fills me with joy. 

So friends remember, it's a good day to be alive.

When will you run today?

Mike

Enough With the Whining!

I've had thousands of problems in my life, most of which never actually happened.

Mark Twain

"Stop your whining"

Twain had it right. The problems we experience are mostly in our head. They exist as worries, dread, fear, and anxiousness.  Some problems are big, and painful and they're in your face, I get that, but most of the problems that plague us are simply figments of our imagination. They worm their way through our brain and lodge themselves snuggly and firmly.  Left unchallenged they lead to defeatist attitudes and they have the potential to change our life's trajectory.  

This morning .. actually, let's back up a bit... last evening I was dreading today's 16 mile run.  The weather is lousy and more snow is on the way. Treacherously jagged ice lines the sidewalks and snowdrifts tall as bungalows make me feel insignificant. The wind is relentless and causes the skin on my knuckles to crack and bleed. I seem to be frozen in a block of prehistoric time. All of this is breaking my running spirit.  

The problem is that I'm sick and tired of the cold and I want to run in warm weather. This is a problem that I can't control. It's lodged in my brain, but it's not real. Sure the cold is real enough, but big deal, it's cold, get over it. Instead of thinking about how fortunate I am, how healthy I am, how I have nothing to complain about, I choose to whine. Instead of thinking about people with real problems, people whose lives are devastated by illness or by loss, I choose to whine.  The whining doesn't make it warmer, it doesn't make me feel better, but I continue to whine like a baby.  These thoughts we have; they steep in our brain in a compote of negative energy.

I pulled on my shoes this morning and layered up with a little vaseline on my cheekbones and headed outside, solemnly, reluctantly for a 16 mile run... Okay, let's get this dance over with ... Within minutes I find my stride. I feel my body warming on the cold dark street and I listen to the rhythmic sound of my feet on the pavement. I sense the presence of my heart, strong and surging with life force. My breathing is calm and my legs pump hard as if forever young.  And I feel wonderful and full of joy as I run down cold dark streets with snow piled high and the wind in my face.  These streets, the same streets that moments before existed in my mind with dread and forebode, are now soft and inviting.

I hooked up with some pals at mile three, and ran ten with them, and then another three home for 16. Home, with steamed hot chocolate, a warm fire blazing, and a soft bed awaiting.  Happiness and life in abundance.  Thoughts of goodness firmly planted in my mind.

So dear reader, if you have a problem, think.  Is this a real problem or is it a figment of your imagination? If it's the latter shake it off and slip on the sneakers.   

You know it friends, it's a good day to be alive.

Mike

A gift from my baby brudda

When I woke up this morning 
rainbows filled the sky
Yes I woke up this morning
rainbows filled the sky
Telling me, everything's going to be alright

Rainbow by G.Love from the album, Lemonade

I had a nice little 3.5 miles slow dance this afternoon that lifted my spirits. Not that they needed lifting, but the top-off was nice, sort of like an extra slice of strawberry rhubarb pie on a July evening ...  don't need it, but mmm, it sure tastes good. I've been sidelined this week because of a minor calf injury, a residual injury actually, the same one that keeps haunting me several times a year. My amazing massage therapist worked some powerful magic over two intense sessions this week and it has paid off. I will run 10 miles tomorrow. My schedule calls for 14.5 miles but that would be crazy, right? I better stick to 10 slow ones.

(By the way, maybe we should keep my 10 mile run a secret from my amazing massage therapist. She would not be amused!  So if you know her, mom's the word, right? ;>)

My brother gifted me an album this morning from iTunes. It just appeared in my inbox like magic. He says I need a new play list and it arrived just in time for my run. It's nice receiving a gift out of the blue when it's least expected. It brings a pang of joy. The tunes are nice, great actually, but the thought behind the tunes brings a glow. The album? G. Love, Lemonade... it's hip, it's hop ... it is what I am not... and I love it. If you saw me run today I would have been grooving down the trails all funked out and lost to the world (do the kids still use funked out... did any kids, ever?). Nice that.

Did you hear that the race committee cancelled the United Nations sponsored Gaza Marathon scheduled for April 10 because the ruling Hamas movement refused to allow women to run alongside men?  Gaza has been under the control of Hamas since 2007. 807 people had registered for the run, 385 women and 422 men. Another 1,600 boys and girls were registered to participate in the event. The decision to cancel the race was taken after the ruling Islamist movement refused to backdown over the issue of men and women running together.  The Hamas issued this statement of regret:

We regret this decision to cancel the marathon but we don't want men and women running together.  We don't want any women running uncovered. 

A United Nations spokesperson  said:

It is frustrating for us, we are disappointed and we are sad but we cannot accept the conditions from [Hamas] – to accept this would be to go against the principles of the UN on equality and women's rights.


I'm thinking the Hamas movement should check out G. Love's Lemonade and chill a bit.  Kudos to the race committee for cancelling the event rather having a men only race.  

It's a good day to be alive, alive and free from intolerant Hamas ideology.

Mike

(source for Gaza Marathon story: Globe and Mail, March 6 and The Age World)