If you are a regular reader you know that this is the last of the planned twenty blog posts documenting my effort to run all of the World Marathon Majors in 2021.
The endeavor was largely successful. I ran six marathons in 43 days including all of the Majors that were held this year (Berlin, London, Chicago, Boston, and New York City). Tokyo postponed until March 2022 so in its place I ran a virtual marathon in Seattle on October 17.
Focusing my training on rapid recovery was a good call. It’s almost as if running marathons on consecutive weekends is routine now. On consecutive days, i.e. Chicago-Boston, not so much.
Admittedly, though, my training approach hindered my speed. All those long, slow, heartrate-limited miles at the expense of speed training makes for a relatively pedestrian pace. Though I was not intending to set any personal records, I did manage to extend my personal worst to well over five hours.
Along the way, we have done a fine job raising money for Parkinson’s Research. My original commitment to the Michael J Fox Foundation in exchange for entries into the London, Boston, and New York City races totaled $26,000. As of this writing we have raised $37,645. Well done you!
As a bonus I received my fifteen minutes of fame. My family and I have appeared live, in on-line digital media, and in print in the local newspaper. Just in time for the holidays. Heck, I should be able to milk this at gatherings of friends and family for decades.
It’ll be like what Don Larsen, an otherwise ordinary player who pitched the only perfect game in World Series history, said when asked if he ever tired of speaking about it: “No, why should I?”
As significant as all this was, it was more or less expected. One sets goals to achieve them, no matter how preposterous they may at first appear. And it’s not as if I didn’t appreciate that the rarity of this feat would garner some attention.
Of course, there is yet some unfinished business. Tokyo, pesky and elusive, remains on the “to do” list though I have not given up hope that I can gain entry to the March 6, 2022 race.
But what I will cherish forever from this journey are the pleasant surprises, the unanticipated details, that I encountered along the way.
From the very first race in Berlin and beyond I met the warmest, most generous, and thoughtful people I could have imagined.
They cheer you on, they share tactics with you, they want to know how your race went, they follow you on Strava, they enjoy a beer with you, they pick you up (literally) when you fall down.
Who knew that marathon runners were so cool?
And with all of this running it’s very likely that my positivity has never been better. More often than not I come away from a workout or race feeling fantastic.
Sure, this may be attributed to the “runner’s high” that we hear so much about. Possibly. But I’m not sure that it’s that simple in the case of someone with Parkinson’s Disease.
What I do know is that it is common for victims of Parkinson’s Disease (PD) to suffer from depression. Dopamine, the chemical that is in short supply due to the disease, has a role in how one feels pleasure in addition to its job facilitating motor functions. It has become accepted in modern neurology that vigorous exercise stimulates the release of dopamine from parts of the brain that are not affected by PD.
So, running makes me feel good while potentially slowing down the progression of the disease. All good.
But what about when I’m not running? Is there a reciprocal effect? If exercise-induced dopamine release improves positivity, can positivity also stimulate dopamine release?
I have no idea. I’m not a neurologist. And I haven’t come across such a theory in what I’ve read.
Doesn’t mean it’s not worth pursuing. I’ve come to believe that striving for a positive mindset is a good idea notwithstanding.
So these days I try harder at it. When I recognize dark emotions I work towards spinning them to their positive counterparts. For a native New Yorker this is no trivial task.
Love instead of hate. Generosity instead of greed. Hope, not despair. Smiles, no frowns. I don’t pretend that this would work for everyone, but it makes me feel better. Does it slow down PD? Well . . . sure, let’s go with that.
Here’s an example. Shalane Flanagan was the 2017 New York City Marathon champion who retired from professional racing in 2019. Then on September 20, 2021, just six days before Berlin, she announced her plan to run all of the same races I was doing. It was dubbed by Nike as Project Eclipse.
I had always assumed that there’d be others who recognized the once in a lifetime (ok, hopefully, once in forever) opportunity that the pandemic-induced compressed Majors schedule represented and that I would not be the only one attempting it.
Yet I admit to struggling with resentment. Shalane got a lot of press and support from Nike and here I was wallowing in anonymity despite attempting a similar goal. The seeming unfairness was gnawing at me and I needed to turn it around.
So I switched to admiration.
I know as well as anyone how hard it was to train for this challenge. However, I am retired and our kids are on their own. Besides my marriage I have no other high priority demands on my time. Shalane is a full-time mom and a coach; hats off to her for taking on this challenge as well.
And, I hope I am not misrepresenting her, the effort rekindled her love for the sport. Relieved of the pressure to reach the podium, she could enjoy the freedom of running for the fun of it. This might be the inspiration that anyone who suffers burn-out needs to renew the perspective that got them into running in the first place.
Oh and, by the way, she ran each of these marathons in well under three hours. Only in my dreams would I be capable of that.
Admiration feels a lot better than resentment. Generates way more dopamine too, I suspect.
I did manage to catch up with Shalane just before the New York City Marathon. She was kind and gracious but I don’t believe she was aware of anyone else attempting the same feat that she was. When she heard what I was doing she said, “We should have joined forces.” Awesome. Could not have said it better myself.
Certainly not the least of the blessings I take away from this challenge is the mind-boggling support I have received from my friends and family. I am, and always will be, overwhelmed by your kindness.
You encouraged me all along the way and never doubted my resolve thus giving me no reason to doubt myself either.
You provided my entries into some of the races (looking at you Team Fox).
You contributed to my charity campaign so as to secure these entries.
You read the regular updates to my blog responding that you enjoyed the writing and were inspired by it.
You shared these blog posts with others thereby expanding my circle of friends and supporters.
You helped me with travel arrangements and well-considered accommodations (yes, that’s you Lynn Drake, my love).
You tracked my progress on each of the races, anguishing when my pace slowed or stopped and rejoicing when I finished.
You dispatched the relative loneliness of my Seattle virtual marathon by just being there (thanks Erika, George, Beth, Jim, Owen, Amy, and Milo).
And when possible, you came to the races to cheer me on.
In many ways, through all of your help, I come away from this journey thinking that you did most of the work. Hell, I just did the running and wrote about it. You did everything else. This story is as much yours as it is mine.
Thank you.
