And he’s off…

It’s been a few days since I’d posted my last entry and announced my interest in the Reach the Beach Relay.  I’d then hunted for runners in various places to no avail and was starting to lose my enthusiasm, when where of all places did I find my first volunteer…..at my son’s birthday party.

One of my guests’ parents asked me whether I was still running, which opened up the topic of the Half Marathons and the fundraising….I half-heartedly mentioned I wanted to assemble a team for RTB next year and was informed that one of the fathers present was a big runner.  I casually cornered him and with lots of disclaimers (“You can think about it…”) told him about the race….to my surprise he jumped on it.  So now there’s two of us.

I’m now posting in a forum that the race provides, under the group of threads titled “Runners looking for teams”….cross your fingers.

Looking Forward To 2009

It’s been a long time since I last wrote in my blog, and quite frankly this is because there hasn’t been much to report.  I started the year with big intentions which didn’t pan out to much action.  I’d hoped to continue my fundraising for the Children’s Hospital Boston, but to be honest, I didn’t promote my intentions much.  For this reason, it’s not a surprise that no additional funds have been raised.

(I also tried training for the Boston Marathon, which I was going to run as a bandit, but my knee gave out at 16 miles).

Part of the difficulty is that running is a lonely sport, and fundraising a very very lonely activity for a single person.  In my last effort, I brought together a group of parents of Autistic children that I’d hoped would be motivated to help me raise funds.  But the pressures of raising an autistic child took their attention and their ability to help was limited (some donated).

Given that the hospital is doing some of the most important work in the field (and generating invaluable results), I felt like this was too important a cause to abandon.  So, I have a new idea for 2009.

I would like to put together a team of runners to take part in the 2009 Reach the Beach Relay, a 200 mile, 24 hour relay race to benefit the hospital.  Ideally, this team will be comprised of parents or relatives of Autistic children, because I’ll also ask these people to dedicate their effort to those that they love.  In addition to running the race, they’ll be asked to raise funds for the hospital by soliciting their network, and to help publicize our campaign.

The race is comprised of 36 legs, some as short as 2.9 miles, some as long as 9.3 miles, some flat, some up very steep terrain in the White mountains of New Hampshire.  It starts at the base of Cannon Mountain and travels through 30 towns and communities and ends on the coast of the state, on the beaches of Hampton.

Teams can contain up to 12 members, or as few as 4,5,or 6 “Ultra” runners.  In a team of 12 (my goal), an individual runs an average of 16.6 miles.  A portion (~ 50%) of the runners in a team must be women.  Teams also include van drivers, which follow along the course with the portion of the team that’s not running.  Because the race takes place over such a long period of time, some teams drive their runners ahead several transition stops to camp and rest.

It’s a complicated event, but it can be really rewarding.  And, with the presumed amount of money that a large team of people can raise, it can be a goal accomplished that’ll not easily be forgotten.  I’d like to put together a team of 14 (12 runners including myself and 2 stand by’s), so I’m looking for 13 others to join me.  Registration of teams starts December 1, 2008 and it usually sells out by the spring.

By the way, I’ll leave it up to the relay to team to decide whether they want to pay the entry fee themselves or to pay it from raised funds.

Please contact me as soon as possible if you’re interested in joining me in this adventure; and if you’re not, please pass the word around.

$5,570 raised and many lessons learned

The Year in Review

If you’ve been following my blog in 2007, you know that earlier in the year I committed to running ten half marathons during the year for every $5,000 donated (my goal being to raise $50,000 during the year). I even made a list of the ten races I would run during the year.

I’d arrived this lofty figure using some assumptions about how much people would donate ($20 on average), how many of their friends they would forward my message to, and then how many of those would donate (and so on and so on).

But soon after I started my campaign I was surprised in two ways: by my friends’ and family’s generosity (the size of donations far exceeded what I assumed) and the number of donations from their friends and family.
So I soon started to realize that I would not meet my $5,000 goal in time for the first race and I was faced with a decision: to run that first race anyway, and what to do about the other races should donations not keep up with races.

I chose to run all races anyway and let the donations try and keep up with me, and I’m glad I did, because I learned a lot about half marathons in the process and continued to be surprised by the generosity of those who knew and cared for me. I also received a few donations from complete strangers…..folks who somehow found my web site or who I met during my races. Some of those have become casual friends that I hope to get to become better friends with in 2008.

And that brings me to my plans for this year

I’ve given a lot of thought to what I’d like to do this year and I have to admit that I considered not running this year, mostly because I felt like I had to top my 10 race feat. However, I’m going to make a commitment and stick to it this year. And the commitment is this……

For every $300 donated during each calendar quarter in 2008, I will run 5 Kilometers in a race during the following quarter.

That means that if during the months of January to March of 2008 I receive $2,400 in donations, I will run a Marathon (about 40 Kilometers) sometime during the next quarter. If I receive $1,200, I will run a Half Marathon (about 20 Kilometers). Then, the next quarter, the process starts over.

So what happens if I get receive donations totaling any other amount? Portions of $300 get rounded up. So, for example, if I receive $1,400 ($1,200 + $200) that’ll guarantee your seeing me in a Half Marathon and a 5 Kilometer race during the next 3 months. I know this is a little more complicated, so I’ve created a table which you can access here for your reference.

I have to admit that I really hope I’ll see $2,600 in donations during the first 3 months of 2008 so that I can run the Boston Marathon (as a bandit, of course, my times certainly don’t qualify me) in the name of Children’s Hospital Boston. I could run on my own, of course, but I know that without your backing, it’ll be too easy to stop running when I get to Heartbreak Hill. This would be my first marathon, by the way.

One Last Comment about 2007

As I said at the beginning, I committed to run 10 races last year, and you might remember I had trouble completing one, so I’d planned to complete an 11^th one during my holiday trip to Florida. Well, I’m not ashamed to admit that instead of running it I spent the day with my kids in Disney World (the first time for some of them). However, I can tell you I’ve already signed up for the ING Miami Half in January (3 weeks or so from now), so I’ll use that as my “make-up”.

Thanks to all who supported me in 2007 and keep tuned to this blog in 2008 for more race updates and even more continuations on the topics I started in 2007!

A Good Race, But 2:00 Hour Time Remains A Goal

The Short Story

With a relatively flat course before me and a plan to finish in 2 hours, I executed for 10/13 of the race, but again hit a wall at the end.

Worst moment of the race: When a fellow racer pulled up to me sometime after mile 10 and said “I’ve been trying to catch you all race. You’re doing a good job”….and then proceeded to pull away.

Best moment: Knowing that this is the 10^th race of the year and that I’ve fulfilled my promise. Also, keeping a relatively fast pace for most of the race and finishing in a decent time (2:05:21).

The Full Story

Coming later…..

The Hilliest Half Marathon I Never (officially) Ran

The Short Story

I wasn’t expecting much in today’s Manchester City Half Marathon because I hadn’t trained much (only once!) since my last race about 3 weeks ago and because the course elevation map showed me this was a very hilly course.

Unfortunately, I got what I expected: 2:15 minutes (per my Garmin), which considering how much I walked, was actually much better than where I thought I’d end up.

Lowest time this year at the Lowell Half

The Short Story

Taking last week’s lessons into this race and knowing that this was a much flatter course than the BAA’s, I anticipated a new course record, and perhaps even a new personal record. Halfway into the race, I even thought I might finish in 2:00:00 or less.

I was partly right in that I set a personal course record of 2:03:38, but not a personal record (which is just over 2:02, set last year at the Big Lake Half Marathon).

The Full Story

I first ran this race (which is technically called the Bay State Marathon and Lowell Sun Half Marathon) last year when my friend Niels skipped the BAA and suggested we do the Lowell instead. I had run the BAA, but wanted to improve a disappointing time in that race, and I saw this as my last chance to do so in the year. I was pleasantly surprised by a well organized race, on a beautiful and fairly flat course and a cool and sunny fall day. Returning this year, it was all as I remembered it, with some notable exceptions.

The Setup

The city of Lowell was exactly as I remembered….a charming and well appointed town, 30 minutes or so from Boston, a place that I’d want for my wife to see. I don’t really know what kind of city it is, but it’s worth visiting, full of pubs, boutiques, condos and restaurants nestled in old mill buildings and historic brick low-rises. Some of the streets were cobble-stoned. (Since originally writing this, I’ve heard that Lowell has traditionally not been a place where you would hang out at night, but that it’s transitioning).

Number pickup was at the Tsongas Arena as last year and the start of the race was a few blocks away down the street, but between the walk from my car to the arena and the start I got a good warm up in. I arrived a few minutes before the schedule race start, with just enough time to do a light stretch and turn in my bag.

As I walked to the starting line, however, I was confused by the fact that some of the runners were facing what I thought was the back of the pack, while the back of the pack was facing what I thought was the front. With the two groups facing each other, I wondered “Am I about to witness gang warfare?”

Then I realized, there was no starting line! Whereas we were all wearing chips on our shoes, there was no mat for us to cross. No one knew how far back to go in order to be at the start. Runners we walking back and forth looking for it and there were no course officials around to clarify matters. As I was talking to someone about the situation, we heard a gun go off without warning.

Without a starting line, it was impossible to know exactly where to start my watch. However, I noticed that the group had been divided into the Half Marathon runners (on the right) and Marathon runners (on the left) with a barrier in between, and that the Marathon runners had a starting line. So, I started my watch when I “crossed” the marathon start.

The Race

During the week, I’d managed to draw up a new “Time Budget” for each mile that would have me crossing the finish line just under 2:02, thereby setting a new personal record. I thought I’d try a feature in my Garmin watch, however, instead of carrying a piece of paper around, so that I’d be warned if I was running too quickly or too slowly.

However, it rained most of the week in my area so I didn’t have a chance to test this feature out prior to the race. So, just before the gun went off, as I was running to the Tsongas Arena and to the “starting line”, I ran a small trial and for reasons I don’t want to go into, it didn’t work. So, here I was with no time-budget-slip-of-paper and worse yet, no starting line.

I thought I remembered how I set the target pace for each mile….I just deducted 15 seconds from all of last week’s paces, so I figured this would get me pretty far, and that I would work out the rest. I knew the first two miles were supposed to be 9:45, the next two were 9:15, and so on.

In fact, I was a bit off, but I did remember correctly that the course was a double loop – the first was 7 miles and the second was 6.1. I also remembered that in each loop, the back 3 miles of each loop were very flat and fast, with a small (20 to 30 foot) elevation. So in the end, I decided that I’d ran slightly slower the first 3 miles (9:45, 9:30, 9:30), then faster the next 3 miles (9:30, 9:15, 9:15) the next 3. Then on the second loop, I’d cut 15 seconds off each of those times. This was actually a lot closer to the actual plan. And I came up with it while running the first mile.

Rather than taking you through each mile, I’ll tell you that I stuck to this plan during the first loop and that at the halfway point, I had run exactly a 1:00:00 on the nose. This was exciting because I was on track to run a 2 hour half, but a little troublesome because I knew it was a bit faster than I’d planned.

That said, I ran the second half of the race on plan again all the way up until mile 12. where suddenly I hit “the wall”. I was breathing as heavily as I ever had, my legs were cement and no matter how much I reminded myself I was almost at the end, I couldn’t go any faster. In fact, I slowed down to a 9:48 pace and then a 10:12 pace on the last mile. If I’d been able to run at the pace I’d originally planned (8:30 then 8:15), I’d have run the race in 2:01.

One of the things I like the most about this race is that the last tenth of a mile or so is ¾ of a lap on a track within a stadium. There is loud music playing, the previous finishers are cheering you on, and there is hot soup waiting. I had planned to sprint once I entered the stadium, but again, I had cement legs. That last bit of the race seemed to take an eternity and I was happy to finally finish in a new course record and the best time yet this year.

After stretching, drinking lots of water and retrieving my checked bags, I headed up to the food line, where they were serving hot, fresh, homemade chicken soup, minestrone, baked beans, pb&j sandwiches, bananas, rolls and candy. Soup is my favorite post-race food so this is my favorite post-race spread.

As I sit on the stadium bleachers munching away, I saw the winner of the marathon, who amazingly looked like he was running at the end of 26.2 miles faster than I was at the beginning of 13.1. He finished in 2:38 and change.

In the post analysis, I see that I lost my goal to have a new personal record in the last two miles. But it’s not surprising that without any additional training and a much more quickly run first 6 miles, I was bound to hit a wall. The good thing that came out of this is that I practiced some of my newly developed (in the BAA) Half Marathon tenets, and that I was able to keep a cool head in the face of a surprising situation and adapt accordingly.

Next race: Manchester City Half on November 4

Personal Course Record set at the BAA Half

The short story

The hours leading up to the race were warmer than usual (in the mid 60’s during the early morning hours), but the temperature kept dropping throughout the race into the high 50’s which made the race comfortable.

I finished in 2:04 and a few seconds by progressively ratcheting up my pace from 10:00 on the first mile to 8:30 in the last.

The full story

This is the race that started my obsession with Half Marathons. Originally, I got the idea to do a full marathon while watching the Boston Marathon, which races through my town and only 4 or 5 blocks from my house. On that day, however, I wisely chose to first complete a Half Marathon to see how I fared.

Which trial is best in Salem? The Wicked Half

The town better known for the witchcraft trials of 1692 hosted 400 runners the weekend of October 1 during its inaugural “Wicked Half Marathon” and I was there. The weather was beautiful as was the course but, alas, I was not able to work any magic.

The race started at 7:00 AM and the check-in process started at 6:00 AM, so I needed to wake up at 4:30 so I could drive the hour to Salem from my home. Normally this would have been a problem, but I had returned from Germany the previous evening and jet lag worked in my favor by waking me up without an alarm clock at 4:00.

It was a dark cold ride to Salem and in the distance I could see large flashing clouds warning of impending rain. But as the sun made itself known and I neared the original town of wickedness, I could see a fine day was on tap.

I arrived so early that the organizers were still getting organized. A few milled around the parking lot, near the entrance of the school that served as the starting point and in the hallways leading up to the number pick-up table. As I walked up to pick up my number, I sensed a bit of excitement on the young volunteer’s side (“Ooh, our first customer!”). I made my way out through a group of volunteers who were divvying up witch costumes and outside to the fresh air.

As others began to arrive, I searched through “the goody bag” and was impressed by the shirt given to the runners – it was first class Tek shirt, probably the best I’ve seen in any race yet – with the Wicked Half Marathon logo. Not much else of interest in the bag though.

The race start was nearing so I took a couple of warm up runs, did my stretches and looked around at the runners. One of the people that donated to my run was planning to do this race (Sean Daly), but I had no idea what he looked like. I wasn’t wearing my “Fund Autism Research” shirt, so he wouldn’t be able to find me (I couldn’t find it in the dark).

I listened as a group of people near me chatted nervously about whether they were ready or not, and a couple of them noticed that they had reverse numbers of each other 69 and 96. I was bored and didn’t feel like I could jump into anybody’s conversation so I went outside and took another couple of laps.

I heard the call to the start so I jogged over and positioned myself with the runners. Suddenly, I realized I hadn’t put on a “ChampionChip”, so I looked at the other runner’s shoes to ensure I hadn’t somehow missed it in the goody bag….no one else had one either. In fact, the starting line was very unceremoniously marked – there was no line, no balloons….very low key indeed. The start was marked by two man-made landmarks (e.g. a fire hydrant and a telephone pole), but it worked for the size of the running field.

We took off at the sound of the “go” down a road that was bordered by water, quickly went into downtown Salem and out onto a road leaving town. The elevation changes were slight, until we arrived in Marblehead (close to mile 3 or 4) where the road rose at a noticeable incline for a couple hundred yards. At the top of this hill, I started to feel pain in my shins but kept my planned pace according to my “pace budget”.

Running fairly flat neighborhood streets for a while, we eventually came to a causeway with a harbor on one side and the ocean on the other, leading into what seemed like a small island. This small island was Marblehead at its best – beautiful homes on expansive plots of land and beautiful geography. Unfortunately, this geography included several hills (4 or 5 steeper ones).

I fought on to stay on pace, but at this point (miles 4 and 5) it started to become more difficult. Leaving the island I reached mile 6, crossed back over the causeway (very flat) and back into the less breathtaking part of Marblehead, which was flatter.

The next two miles went by with effort (these were the fastest target paces – 9:15) but I stayed on pace. However, at mile 9, I started to slip from my target pace. By mile 10, I felt as if I was running at the target pace of 9:30, but when I looked at my watch, I was running considerably slower. By my mile 12, I was seriously struggling. The last mile, I was working just to finish.

During the last 200 yards, when I could see the finish line in the distance, a pair of female runners next to me were talking, and one of the obviously the stronger of the two ask the second “Here we go, let’s finish strong…you got anything left?”. The second said “No I don’t” and I thought “Me neither”. The first said, “C’mon, we’re almost there, can’t you give it a little push?”, the second: “No, there’s nothing left”. At that point I almost said “Dump your annoying friend and limp in with me…I’m dead too”.

My time turned out to be 2:11 and a few seconds, one of my slowest times and I really cant’ tell what caused me to turn such a stinker in…..except possibly for the fact that I’d just returned from Germany the night before and had been at Oktoberfest on Thursday evening drinking liters of beer and eating Pork.

But in the end, I enjoyed a beautiful day on a beautiful course and a great post-race massage. As a matter of fact, I have to say that the race amenities for an inaugural race were outstanding (besides the massages, the best shirt I’ve seen yet, mile markers every mile, “Gu” gel, frequent water and Gatorade stops, and a great medal for every runner). And I was done by 9:30, which left me the rest of the day to get everything else I needed done.

Incidentally, when I arrived home and checked the race results online, I found that Sean Daly – the donor that had told me he planned to run this race – had finished a few people ahead of me. Chances are we ran close to each other the whole race but had no idea of it. Perhaps one of these days we’ll meet up at another race.

Next race up: The Boston Half Marathon, one week from now.

I started to write this posting last Saturday shortly after I ran this race, but it’s taken me a full week to complete it. In fact, I ran the BAA Half Marathon today, but that story will come shortly.

A Pause for Recovery

It was a tough call but I decided to not run today’s “Run to the Rock” in Plymouth. The decision was simply made because after last week’s run, I developed two very big blisters (the size of silver dollars), and in my haste to heal for this week’s run, I popped the biggest one. Big mistake.

I ended up getting it infected, so I went to my General Practitioner for advice. He winced and in turn recommended I see a wound specialist (!). Once there, the specialist recommended I stay off of it for 2 to 3 weeks (which is not possible..I have to walk). He also prescribed a salve and some antibiotics.

The redness has since subsided but the underlying skin is very baby soft and susceptible to further blistering. Given that today at race time the temperatures are likely to be in the mid 80’s with 66% humidity and my feet would get quite sweaty, I decided to avoid additional injury, sit this one out, and find another race to make it up.

Some possible alternatives are the White Mountain Milers Half (10/28) or the Manchester City Half (11/4).

The Swanzey Covered Bridges Half: Elijah’s Race

If you Google Elijah Barrett, you’ll find a number of individuals with this name:

1. the second principal of Maryland State Normal School (now Towson University), who lived in the late 1800’s,

2. Various authors who may or may not be the same person

3. An exceptional athlete from the Monadnock region of New Hampshire.

It is about this third individual that I write about today. “Why?” you may ask: Because on Sunday September 2, 2007, I ran the quintessential small New England Half Marathon, and it was Elijah Barrett’s brainchild.

His race, the Swanzey Covered Bridges Half Marathon (SCBHM), was similar to the CHaD Half I attempted the previous week and the Covered Bridges Half (in Vermont) I’d done in the Spring, and yet it was their polar opposite. In the end, about the same number of runners completed both NH races, although by setting the SCBHM one week later, the runners were guaranteed typical New England fall weather: dry, sunny, crisp (the CHaD offered the worst race conditions I’d ever experienced, the CBHM was warm and humid).

Both New Hampshire races offered an after race bar-b-que, but the SCBHM’s fresh market produce and baked goods seemed to have just been delivered from the many farmstands I passed on the way home. By comparison, the Vermont CBHM offers bananas, bagels and cookies.

All of these races offer a combination of flat and rolling terrain, but the SCBHM provides a nice warm up in the front and mild hills toward the end (which is my preference). The SCBHM is similar to the Vermont CBHM in terms of beautiful scenery along the race route and the combination of asphalt vs. packed dirt surfaces. However, unlike the SCBHM, you actually run THROUGH four Covered Bridges (in Vermont you only run through one and you pass the other two).

But the thing I liked the most about the SCBHM (besides the free hot showers), is that it felt as if a community had enthusiastically come together to make it happen, something I didn’t get from the other two races. The Vermont CBHM is so successful (they fill up in a week or less), that its organizers have a real “take it or leave it” attitude towards the runners. The CHaD is a larger production with a mission: to raise funds for the Children’s Hospital at Dartmouth and it feels big even though it’s not. The SCBHM is a real community labor of love.

As I checked into the race, I noted Elijah’s photo prominently posted but didn’t see him around anywhere. I decided to speak to him after the race to get some details for the blog. In the meantime I was happy to get through the number and chip pick up process quickly so that I could warm up.

For this race, I had printed a small table of the splits I wanted to attain and the total time I should accumulate at each mile. I jogged to the starting line and stretched with the other runners, chatting as I usually do. When the starting signal came, I ran with a deliberate and measured tempo towards the first bridge, which came up in the first mile.

Almost immediately, we took a turn unto a wooded trail, which was a nice touch. It was quiet except for the inevitable chatter of the female runners (who they’d seen over the weekend, something about someone passing away, complaints about family members, etc.) and the pat pat pat of shoes on dirt. I usually get annoyed of the chatter, but today I ignored it.

After mile 1, I was over 50 seconds ahead of my target and at mile 2, I was a minute ahead of my target so I decided to slow things down a bit to conserve my energy. But by mile 3, I was a minute and 10 seconds ahead…and I didn’t really feel it in my wind or my legs. It was as if the course pulled me forward.

It was all so easy, that I started chatting with the other runners. At first it was a passing comment, then a longer exchange. At one point, one of the other runners, a woman named Marianne told me she was going to stay close to me since we seemed to be running the same pace.

We started talking about the weather, the races we’d done and were planning to do, where we were from, etc. and others around us joined in. I kept glancing at my Garmin watch ensuring that I stayed on top of my goals and amazingly, I reached mile 6 still 30 seconds ahead of the time where I wanted to be. (For those of you that don’t run, 30 seconds is a comfortable amount of time.) Most importantly, I felt great.

At mile 7, I had planned to pick up the pace to a 9:15 mile, so I let Marianne know and told her to look for me at the end so we could take a photo for the blog. She had been saying that she ran more at a 10:00 minute pace, so I figured my faster pace would be too much for her. It was right about here that I started to feel blister forming on the arch of my foot, but they didn’t feel too bad.

When I finished mile 9, I had lost some ground and was only 7 seconds ahead of my desired target. I was now entering the crucial part of the race. Historically, miles 10-13 are the absolute toughest for me. These are where my resolve starts to dissolve and I get cement legs and sticky feet.

Unfortunately, although the race was billed to not have more than a one-hundred mile incline at any point, from mile 7 on there were ascents of over 200 feet every mile (and almost equal descents except for miles 12 and 13, according to my Garmin watch). This takes a lot of energy out of a runner…especially one that hasn’t sufficiently trained.

I particularly remember having difficulty starting at mile 10, where there was a 222 ft ascent and a 269 foot descent. I lost 2 minutes this mile and I never made it up….this is how my total time became 2:07 and change (2:08+ officially, but I think they were off because the chip timing didn’t actually account for when you crossed the starting line). My goal had been 2:05 for this race.

The blisters that started to get my attention at mile 7 were now screaming at me “Stop you fool! We’re going to take it out on you if you don’t!”. But they didn’t pop this time, so I didn’t stop. Instead, I leaned into each step, lengthening my strides as much as possible.

I finished the race at the same location where I picked up my number and again saw the photo of Elijah. I wanted to speak to him, but I first had to take my shoes off to let my dogs breathe and to see how bad the blisters that had formed were. To my surprise, they were a lot bigger than they felt (click here to see them if you don’t have a weak constitution; don’t expect pedicured Metrosexual feet. These are runner’s feet.)

As I sat on the ground studying the source of my foot pain, I heard the voice of Marianne behind me. I didn’t know it right then, but she had finished just a minute or two behind me in terms of total pace. As I remember her “normal pace” was 10:00, she had really booked on this race. If I’d known I’d have congratulated her but she slipped away and I didn’t get to say goodbye.

Now that I was not focused on my pain anymore, I was ready to meet the man who had made this great race possible. I walked around looking for him and couldn’t find him, so I asked one of the race volunteers where he’d be.

To my shock, I found out that after several months of aggressive chemotherapy treatment, Elijah Barrett had passed away the previous weekend at 31 years old. I didn’t know what to say. I looked around at the athletes celebrating record times and a beautiful day, at the volunteers dutifully performing their functions, at a community that had come together to make the event take place flawlessly, and tried to make sense of it.

I spoke to the Race Co-Director (Elijah had been the other Director) who told me that Elijah had only learned his diagnosis about 8 months ago and that it had been a complete surprise. Elijah had been the healthiest person in the Monadnock region. He was a track star in high school setting many records (including the 440 record which he later coached the students to try and beat – they didn’t). He was the Monadnock (Male) Athlete of the Year in 93/94. He won or placed in all kinds of races, from the Elm City Triathlon in 2003 to a 5k race to the Mt. Pisgah 50K.

If you want to read about his accomplishments, you can Google “Elijah Barrett Race” and there you’ll see a smattering. A more fitting tribute is found in the homage written in his sister’s hometown paper. .

I can’t claim to have known Elijah, but I certainly left this race wanting to know him better and to thank him for his dedication to the sport. Based on what I’ve read, I think Elijah was a real hometown man and since I enjoyed his hometown so much, I feel like I would have gotten on with him quite well. I’m certain that 360 other people who took part in his race on September 2 would concur.