6 Hour Race Splits

3 M Matthew Wilcoxen   31.92       33 05:57:30   

1:    8:58 00:08:58   

2:    8:40 00:17:38   

3:    8:43 00:26:21   

4:   11:04 00:37:24   

5:   10:51 00:48:14   

6:    9:18 00:57:32

7:   11:09 01:08:40   

8:    8:32 01:17:11   

9:   15:43 01:32:53  

10:   15:26 01:48:19  

11:   11:59 02:00:18  

12:    8:23 02:08:41

13:    8:34 02:17:14  

14:    8:40 02:25:53  

15:    8:41 02:34:34  

16:    8:28 02:43:02  

17:    8:38 02:51:39  

18:    8:40 03:00:19

19:   15:21 03:15:40  

20:   15:56 03:31:35  

21:   12:29 03:44:04  

22:   11:08 03:55:11  

23:    9:45 04:04:56  

24:   11:31 04:16:26

25:   11:31 04:27:57  

26:   15:10 04:43:06  

27:   10:14 04:53:20  

28:   15:37 05:08:56  

29:   10:10 05:19:06  

30:   11:07 05:30:13

31:    9:32 05:39:44  

32:    9:27 05:49:10  

33:    8:21 05:57:30 

1 Hour Race Splits

2 M Matthew Wilcoxen     8.09      8 00:57:27   

1:    7:26 00:07:26   

2:    7:24 00:14:50

3:    7:20 00:22:09   

4:    7:19 00:29:28   

5:    7:17 00:36:44   

6:    7:04 00:43:47

7:    6:56 00:50:43

8:    6:45 00:57:27 

Bill crossing 100 miles with Reese

Reese running 24 hours

Perspective

Sometimes things happen in this life that really put things in perspective. I can't decide if I'm more surprised at the patience of our creator or my own stubbornness when it comes to how many times I have to be shown what is really important in this world. My life is not great right now. There really is no other way to say it. It sucks in many ways. But really I'm blessed in so many more ways.

I had the amazing privilege to meet an extraordinary woman today on a flight to D.C. The conversation started out as most do with jovial banter about where you from, where you going, etc. I really enjoy meeting new people and was content to leave this one at the superficial level of airline seat companions but something changed at some point and I found myself deep in an emotional experience I won't soon forget.

This amazing woman has a daughter that composes music freestyle. No sheet music and no pre-programmer recordings. She plays all the instruments and then arranges them into wonderful compositions of boundless waves of melodies. I've always wondered about and been in awe of artists who weave their crafts directly from the heart onto their canvases. I'm not exaggerating when I say this music was good. It really was. The girl is 13! She free-flows this music and you can feel the emotion in the songs. I'm a sucker for talented people who produce honesty and beauty directly from their soul. When the structure and the form aren't studied and force-learned but are planted in the soul of the artist by the creator it stirs my soul and makes me realize how amazingly more than predictable this life really is.

That is not why this woman touched my heart however. She had a son that was a twin of her much-talented daughter. He was 13 and as wonderful and joyously intriguing as his twin. His life was taken by a virus that attacked his precious little heart. He was taken suddenly. I know all this because I shared with this saint-of-a-woman that I was worried I had spoiled my youngest son because I want to hold him all the time and did so when he was younger. We are now trying to break some of his clingy habits and I was espousing the trials of having a spoiled 6 year old when she stopped me and told me of her late son. I was stopped in my tracks. My eldest is 14. I take him for granted much more often than I like to admit. Although he is a teenager, I remember him as a small baby that had wild hair when I think of him. I remember teaching him to ride a bike and putting him on the school bus for the first time. I remember him playing soccer and I'll never forget the day we both played hookie from school and work and played a Playstation game all day. What I can't imagine is the thought of him being taken. Suddenly. How hard it is to imagine that in a few hours he could be gone? That is the one thing I can't seem to get my mind around. I can accept a lot and try to keep myself prepared for most things but that I just couldn't handle.

There is nothing you can do to reconcile the balance sheet after the loss of a child I suppose. Truth is, my heart went out to this woman but it seemed insignificant and much too tainted to be worthy of even speaking with her about it. I have questioned my worth ever since. All the selfish desires I have followed at the expense of others that I care for, all the worthless situations I've worried about, all the personal goals I've sacrificed for all seem nothing more than vapors when put up against the backdrop of what this woman has been through. I wish I could write words that could ease her pain or do this subject justice but I can't.

What I can do is ask you all to go hug the one you love. Right now. DO IT! Don't wait. Don't squander the love that's given to you.

Sorry that this post contained NOTHING about running but remember this is my psychologist's couch too.

Thanks for listening

Sickness

This flu thing is really kicking my butt. I've been down since Friday evening. And when I say down I really mean down! I have become permanently attached to this bed. I'm taking every medicine/immunity booster known to man and I still can't seem to fight this thing off.

I shouldn't be surprised that I caught this thing so fast. The schools are emptying with kids going out with it. Now normally my body would be strong enough to fight this thing off and keep me from getting a full-blown case. These are not normal times for old Willie though. I'm down 15-20 pounds depending on what day I get on the scale and I haven't slept well in weeks. My diet has been abysmal and it's really a wonder I made it this long. Basically, I'm a walking (running) germ magnet!! Every little microscopic organism that can get near me takes up residence and homesteads on this nice, fertile ground right now. My immune system threw in the towel long ago and posted For Rent signs outside my nostrils and mouth.

I am feeling a little better this morning. My chest is still hurting and breathing is not quite right yet but we're getting there. I am considering ventilating the house today to see if that would help. Sometimes I wonder if I'm not perpetuating the sickness by walking around in the same disease-filled air all the time.

I'll be back to work tomorrow but running will probably wait until this weekend. It's become fall here while I've been down and it's rather cold outside for my tastes. I'm going to ease into this new season slowly.

Thanks for listening

The Valley

I should be writing a race report for the Spirit of Survival marathon this morning but I can't because I didn't run it. When the starting gun went off this morning down in Medicine Park, I was laying in bed probably snoring very loudly.

I spent Wednesday night with my boys watching TV and just lounging around. We had a good time and everyone was feeling fine. Thursday morning, however, I got a call and discovered that The Big One had come down with the flu. He went to the doctor and was cleared of Swine flu but still would be out of action for at least 7-10 days. That really sucked for him and when I did see him again on Friday night he looked horrible.

Friday night I went to Elite Feet and picked up some Hammer Gel for the race. Then me and The Little One settled in for a restful night. There was to be no rest for me though. Around 7 PM on Friday night I started getting a sore throat. An hour later I had a mild fever and started feeling achy. I took some Tylenol PM and went to bed hoping a good sleep would clear it all up.

Saturday morning I was in full-blown crappy-ass-pitiful-feeling mode. I tried so hard to not let myself get down about the marathon. I concentrated on taking in massive amounts of fluids and getting as much rest as I could. No matter what I tried though I couldn't get the marathon out of my head. I had this empty feeling down deep that knew I was going to be a DNS for this one. I told myself I wouldn't make any decision until Sunday morning.

Saturday night around midnight I knew it was over. I was still feeling horrible and had a fever. The worst part however, was my chest. I couldn't take a deep breathe without coughing. Really hard. And it hurt A LOT! My throat was so raw and sore that I had sharp pains each time I tried to cough. I knew I would have to breathe during the marathon and that just didn't sound appealing. Breathing was a problem.

So I sent the text that I was dreading all day. I wouldn't be meeting up with the group to go down.

I know it was the right thing to do and that's what is bothering me so much. When have I ever done the right thing? It's not in my nature to look at a decision and see both the right and wrong answer and choice the right one! I may be growing up and I really, really, really hate that!

So here I sit, still in bed, still coughing, still have a fever, and now with a big fat DNS in my list of past races. It rained all morning so I know I would have been miserable out there even if I had made it to the race somehow without collapsing. But somehow I can't stop thinking that this just isn't my year. So many things have gone wrong in 2009. Some I brought on myself, OK, MOST I have brought on myself but some have been out of my control.

I suppose that this is all for some greater purpose, at least I hope that it is. Out of all this bad a few good things have already come and I have to keep my faith that this is just a temporary valley and that this hill I'm on is the road out of it. As much as I hate running hills I know that they always lead to the top of the mountain and you can't get there without some amount of pain.

That doesn't stop me from wishing that this hill were smaller though.

Thanks for listening

A good run

I had one of those runs tonight that makes me remember how much I love
running. My old gang was back together and we did a lap of old Lake
Hefner. It was a beautiful evening with crystal clear skies and cool
temperatures. I felt like I could run forever and each step lifted my
spirits a little higher.

The Big One also had another cross country meet tonight. He has been
flirting with the 20 minute barrier for his 5k's lately. Last week he
ran a 20:05 and we were all hoping this would be the sub-20 minute
day. Alas it was not to be as he ran a 20:07. On the bright side he is
consistent and we can work with consistent! So very proud of him.

I've got a marathon next weekend. The Spirit of Survival marathon is
next Saturday I think. I'm using it as a training run but still hope
to run well. If nothing else I want to get my head screwed on straight
and get back into marathoning mentally. My head has been out of it now
for awhile and I've got to get the head games down again if I want to
PR this year. I'll keep you posted.

Thanks for listening

The Line

There is a line on 89th street. It's at the bottom of a hill and it marks the beginning of a 200 meter distance that ends at the top of that hill. Some nice person measured this distance and was kind enough to paint the lines on the road for the rest of us to use.

It's a big hill, very intimidating when you see it from the bottom. Not big in California or Colorado terms but big by Oklahoma standards.

I have seen this hill and the line at the bottom of it many times. The first time I saw it was at mile 11 or so of a 14 mile run and it looked MASSIVE! Most of the time I see it near the beginning of my runs so it's a little more manageable. Funny how an obstacle can take on a different look depending on it's position relative to your fatigue.

This line has been calling me lately and today I answered. I decided to forgo my usual speedwork and go out and hurt myself as much as possible on this hill and finally make that line a memory. So I jogged out to the line which is about a 1.5 mile warmup and started my 10 hill repeats from this line.

I barely noticed the line at the start of the first one, I was up that hill before my body really knew what had happened. I know this because when I stopped I began to huff and puff heavily. That is my body catching up with itself and wondering WTF just happened! It felt pretty good and Paula agreed as I'd done that one in 48 seconds.

I jogged/walked down the hill and said hello to the line again. It's reply set me back a bit. "You're gonna hurt today!" Guess this line knew something about my day and what kind of mood I was in which was, in fact, no mood in which to start arguing with a line so I started my next interval. This time all cylinders were firing and all body parts had come on-line. Arms pumping, legs working, head bobbing (yes I'm a head bobber when it's hard), every molecule in my body was working together to get every other molecule up that hill. 43 seconds for that one. On the way down I was remembering Oklahoma City 2008 where I first broke 4 hours in the marathon. That wonderful feeling of having worked hard and achieved something. Wonderful feeling.

"Hey, back again huh? You can't win at this you know? I'll always be here and you'll never do enough to make this easy!" Again I ignored this taunting and set out on interval number 3. Each step took me further up the hill and further into oxygen debt. This time I noticed the dips and cracks in the road. I forced myself to stay on my toes and push off hard with each step. Form, form, form, form, keep that head down and those arms pumping. Quick feet, quick feet. 44 seconds at the top. This will pay off later, it has to. This will pay off when I'm tired at mile 20 in Tulsa and my mind wanders. I'll think of this and know I've got it in me to push on.

"I'm still here, and you look tired. This next one will be number 4, that's 1/2 a mile which is good enough for someone like you. Best not to push it too hard you know, you're not made for this." He came at me quick this time and I wasn't ready. Caught me off guard and I stumbled a bit when I realized I had reached the line. I recovered though and got up that hill in 44 seconds again. I was surprised with that time because I had to push every step on this one. I had left that zone where you can disconnect the mind and let the body run free. I was engaged and analyzing each step. Hard mentally to keep doing that.

"You're half way after this next one, starting to worry yet? You could get injured doing this. I'll be here when you're ready to quit." This was number 5 and I'd decided to take a longer rest between 5 and 6 so I wanted to get this one done! Once again he came up on me quicker than I expected but I stepped right over him as I hit the start button on Paula and charged up another 200 yards. Push this one! It's half way and there's a rest waiting for you! Push, push, push. Stopped Paula and saw 43 seconds again. Great time but now I'm really feeling it. I have never thrown up from running before, NEVER! As I walked down that hill though, I was thinking there's a first for everything.

"......wait....." I cheated myself on the break and immediately started number 6 as soon as I reached the line. No rest at all on this one. Screw that line, I can get these done and get home quicker if I stop spending so much time looking at the damn thing anyway. Up that hill, stomach screaming, legs aching, shoulders sore and tired but the body is still moving. This was pain. Good pain that I deserved. Hurt yourself like you've hurt so many others before. When it hurts, it's good. This one was GREAT in that case. 45 seconds though. Started remembering Andy Payne marathon on the way down. Remembered how it was the first time I really hurt in a marathon and how bad it felt to give up and walk the last miles. Real shitty feeling, much like hill repeat number 6!!!

I hesitated on number 7. My stomach was on the verge and something down deep said, "We need a moment here asshole!", so I stopped and bent over. Found myself looking directly at the line. That line, there's one at every race just like this one. I hardly ever notice it but it's there. That line that is the point where the adventure begins. That point where the body is first asked to move beyond itself and put into gear. That line! What is it about that line? Screw this, thinking way to much and I should RUN! Go, get up this damn hill and you'll have only 2 left. Throw up if you must but get these things done. Stop running on your heels! Get on your toes! push those arms! 48 seconds. Way to go.... you sucked on that one.

"Only 3 left, you could call this one the last and have an even mile complete. You look a little green, better watch out I'm not sure you've got 10 of these in you today." I'm not sure I'm even breathing now, just know that I've got 3 more to do and I don't care how long they take me. This hill looks steeper and longer than it did before. I chanced a look at the top and was immediately reminded why that's a bad idea. It wasn't getting any closer and I wanted to stop. Disconnect the brain and push on, do it! 47 seconds for that one but I finished it.

"Hope you don't feel good about yourself for having done 8 of these. That's nothing compared to what I've seen some people run out here." Short rest again and I was on the hill again. Felt like I was going to stop with every step. Pushed those legs to go each inch knowing that any flutter or mis-step would be enough to break the cycle and I'd be done. I was running on pure momentum and as long as I kept the pendulum swinging I'd get up the hill. 46 seconds.

"Last one, but shouldn't you really do 12 of these? Is 10 enough?"

Ran the last one in 42 seconds and jogged home.

Thanks for listening

Injuries

I am so inspired by Kristin Armstrong’s writing. She has this wonderful way of making me smile and feel pretty damn good about myself with her words. She did it again this morning when I stopped by her blog.

“Remember what you love to do. Don't put it in a chest in the attic of your being and leave it for your kids to find long after you are gone.”

That’s the kind of stuff she writes that really gets to my soul. I read those words like watching a scene from a movie, they are so vivid and I can picture the entire movie written around that one scene. I love writing like that.

Now before I get into this next topic I want to remind all of you who have read this blog for awhile that I never promised to be consistent or non-contradictory. So no laughing or snickering! For all of you who haven’t read for very long, DO NOT GO BACK AND READ ANY OF MY POSTS ABOUT BEING INJURED!

I have a few friends who are injured and are not currently running. This is a topic that is close to my heart because I know that my annual injury is just around the corner. Being a runner who can’t run is the most challenging part of running for me. I have matured (stop laughing) enough, though, to realize that what I’m struggling with is short-term loss and not significant. Having an injury that puts you out for a few months always seems life-ending but in the big picture it’s nothing more than a tiny blip on the radar.

Running is a life-long pursuit or, better yet, a way of life. It’s more than something we do it is what we are. We are runners and that means so much more than just strapping on expensive shoes and funny looking shorts every day or two. So much more in fact that when we can’t run we are STILL runners at heart. The fact that we miss it so much just emphasizes that point. I’ve said before that when I’m injured and am forced into a gym, I really want to wear a shirt that says, “I’m a runner, I don’t belong here”. As runners we don’t join gyms that we only use sporadically as a way of getting in shape. We don’t buy exercise equipment that will eventually become furniture as a way of changing our lives. We first and foremost RUN and that changes us. We may do those other things as a way to help our running but running will always be at the core if we truly find that love out there on the road. And that, my friends, makes us runners for life even through those times when we can’t.
The fact is that most of us will return to running after an injury and when we do, WOW, it’s the most amazing run in the world! We will find our hearts again and our bodies are re-awakened to the wonderful pain and pleasure of each step. Many people will never know that feeling. Some because they won’t, others because they can’t. I pray that I’ll always remember that and keep it in the back of my mind. I have this wonderful gift that some would give anything to be able to do and I never want to take it for granted.

The next time I feel down about a bad run or I’m upset because I only had time for a short run or when I get my injury and can’t run for awhile, I’ll try to remember the guy or gal in a wheelchair who’s never taken a step. I’ll try to remember the soldier who used to run and now can’t. I’ll try to remember that what I’m upset about is something that most people can’t understand and that it’s a gift that I’ve been given and one that I’m somewhat obligated to give too. I’ll try to remember the big picture and realize that I’m nothing but a whisper in that conversation.
I know whole-heartedly that it’s easier to know and believe these things than it is to actually live them. It’s the living thing that I struggle with.

Happy Birthday

On a totally different note,

IT’S SOUTHBAYGIRL’S BIRTHDAY!

Thought I’d go back and re-post this picture of us when I actually met her last year out in L.A. I’ve always liked this picture because it’s the first time I’d ever met a fellow blogger and was so blown away by how wonderfully nice and interesting she was! Pay no attention to the jerk on the left but make sure to notice the cutie in the middle!

Thanks for listening