I Ran Two Marathons in One Month

Literally it took me a whole month. As in, I ran a couple miles at a time and over the course of a month somehow I managed to run 52.4 miles, the equivalent of two marathons. Could I have run a marathon, or even a half marathon, in one fell swoop? Heck NO. But I accomplished this and it is a pleasant surprise!

I am participating in the Acadia to Katahdin virtual race series to raise money for Acadia National Park and Millinocket, the gateway town to Baxter State Park, both of which are in the state of Maine. It has been a great experience. The race app helps me track not only how many miles I have run, but also where those miles would put me if I were actually running on the roads around Acadia and Katahdin. And, not that it’s a competition (at least for me), but it also tells me where I am in comparison to the other runners who are participating.

My racing stats are far from impressive, logging my progress in one- to four-mile bite-size chunks and averaging about 12 miles per week and about 9 minutes per mile. Some of those miles are walking, some are running. But that’s not the point! The point is that I am doing it. Like anything in life, it’s putting one foot in front of the other and making progress toward a goal. As an RA (Rheumatoid Arthritis) patient, tying up the laces to my sneakers again and going out for even a mile run consistently is nothing short of a miracle. The days of barely being able to hobble around the block are behind me for the moment. Your guess is as good as mine as to why my RA is behaving itself currently, whether it’s diet or exercise or stress management or better sleep or the super perfect prescription cocktail, but I am running with it (literally) while it lasts!

Will I complete the race’s entire 328.5 miles before December 31, 2019? I would say that’s doubtful. Will I run the actual Millinocket Marathon and a Half that will take place this year on December 7, 2019? No, my long distance days are over. I am a short distance runner these days (and a swimmer – low impact is where it’s at!). BUT, I will be there to cheer on the runners, including my husband, as well as that community that is so dear to me. And in October I will attempt to climb Katahdin for the first time in almost two decades, weather gods permitting. And I can’t wait! My heart has ached to walk those trails I used to clamber up like a mountain goat for fun on a day off. I cannot wait to look out from the peak over the vast and serene landscape of the North Maine Woods, to feel the solidarity of accomplishment with fellow hikers, and the peace and calm that comes from being part of that wild world for a short time. I thought having RA had relegated me to only the low-lying, pond-side trails. And I made my peace with that – the view from there is beautiful, too. But, wow, to climb the mountain!??! What an unexpected gift. This hike will be one of deep gratitude, both that I am healthy for now and that I get another chance.

Life is short and life is also unpredictable. Next year is not a guarantee. October is not a guarantee! I am riding the wave while I can. Sometimes you just have to grab a latte, be bold, be brave, and go for it! And, always, always, be grateful.

 

 

 

 

Millinocket, Marathons, Momentum, and Moose

“Like a pebble tossed into still water.” This is how Gary Allen, the man behind the Millinocket Marathon and a Half, likens his efforts to create ripple effects of ever-widening positive impact and change. For background, check out this post about Millinocket and the marathon from November – Have you ever heard of the Magic City?

Here we are in August 2019, and while it’s hard to believe that New England could be cold at anytime – ever – from the vantage point of this summer’s heat waves, already Millinocket is on the mind and momentum is building for the December 2019 event. Check out singer/songwriter Jenn Schott’s tribute to the Millinocket marathon:

Another cool new fundraising initiative for the region is the virtual Acadia to Katahdin race that starts August 2 (you have until December 31 to log all 328.5 miles). More info on that here.

Interested in running the actual Marathon or Half on December 7, 2019? Sign up here. Remember, there is no registration fee – this is a race designed around showing up and giving back!

The idea of this marathon was bold, audacious, and selfless. The result has been large, broad ripples more like those that result from water cascading off a moose’s antlers as it lifts its head from the pond than from a small pebble.

Moose and Mountain
Gratuitous moose pictures, with the majestic Katahdin.

Bold. Audacious. Selfless. I’ll circle back to those themes soon.

Marathon Hat and Logo

 

 

The Fixer

Life is such a committed and earnest teacher. Everyone has their stuff. And life dutifully provides opportunities, over and over again, to practice navigating whatever yours might be.

I like to fix things. Not like broken machines, but like broken people or uncomfortable situations or disorder. In fact, now that I think about it, I don’t like the feeling of anything that I feel responsible for being out of place. And I feel responsible for a whole bunch of stuff. That goes for people as well as a leaky faucet. I. Just. Can’t. Ignore. It.

I am experienced enough now (read: old) that I can see it happening, and I actually recognize it for what it is. I discover a “problem,” a switch flips in my mind, adrenaline floods in, and I hone in with laser focus on “solving the situation.” Everything else going on around me becomes annoying distraction. It’s really primitive. And if it weren’t so uncomfortable and I weren’t so focused on whatever the perceived threat might be, it’s also quite fascinating. I know what I am supposed to do here – lots of deep breaths and comforting reassurance to my anxious parts. But my brain keeps tacking back to the VERY BIG PROBLEM THAT NEEDS TO BE FIXED. In those moments, all I really, really want is to fix it so I can put this horrible feeling away and chillax.

The way this manifests when it comes to people who need help is much less obvious than when something breaks in my house. When I say “need help,” I don’t mean like they are hurt or that their house is on fire. Surely I’d go into adrenaline-driven fixer mode in those cases. No, in this case, I mean they need help with something emotional. There isn’t the flood of adrenaline or the laser-like focus, but it’s still a problem to be solved. Internally, it feels like some sort of calling, that it’s my job to fix the bad feelings, or at least temporarily to take away the pain. That’s a lot of pressure and, rationally speaking, it’s totally unrealistic. But who ever said this behavior was rational?

I noticed long ago that very often one’s best attribute or character trait doubles as one’s worst. For me, this is where being reliable and dependable kind of backfires. I am dependable and reliable so people find any number of ways to depend and rely on me. And, of course, then I feel the need to continue to prove my dependability and reliability and to not let anyone down. And it goes on like this in a sort of self-fulfilling cycle for ever and ever…until I crash and burn because I have lent out so much of myself to so many people that I have completely hollowed out my own core. Emotional problems tend to have a longer-running course than physical, house-on-fire problems. They require the pacing of a marathon versus a sprint. But when it comes to fixing things, I have the mindset of a sprinter and, inevitably, I hit a wall and start to get awfully tired…

I think a lot of moms suffer from the feeling of having only so much to give, being needed by many, torn in too many directions, and wanting to fix things that are out of their control. That’s certainly the case for me, and I fully support little getaways here and there to revive oneself and actually be able to think and breathe and just be.

But, for me, this internal fixer is a lifelong pattern. Only after I completely lost myself with the responsibilities of parenting (I don’t even need to explain that kids have needs), childing (also known as: being a reliable and dependable daughter), working (see also: proving I am a productive citizen and “pulling my weight” because, obviously, only a paycheck tells you that), being a good friend (“you can count on me!”), did it become clear to me that the two most-used phrases in my vocabulary are “I’m sorry” and “I should.” I’m either a disappointment/failure/inadequate (“I’m sorry”) and/or I’m driven to prove my worth/worthiness/value (“I should”). Nowhere in there am I thinking, “gosh, I’d love to do that.” It got to the point where I would ask myself, “What stirs your soul?” and I had literally no idea how to answer. Because, I’m sorry, I am so selfish, I should not be thinking about myself when so many people need me.

It turns out that it just isn’t possible to save everyone without totally tanking yourself. Another disappointing life lesson, but a true one. That’s the whole reason my blog has the title it does – it’s a reminder that you can’t run around putting everyone else’s oxygen masks on while simultaneously allowing yourself to be asphyxiated. It won’t end well.

None of this is to say be selfish. Not at all. I certainly struggle with that notion, because that’s how it feels: I am letting people down. I am selfish. I should just try harder. And, of course, there are plenty of things that just need to be done, whether they fill your cup or not. That’s life, and I spend the majority of my day doing just that. Most days, I do much of my to-do list, in all its mundane glory, joyfully. And I admittedly love knowing that people can count on me, and that they know that I am loyal and reliable no matter the circumstances. The trouble strikes when I need a break and don’t know how to say no. It would seem to be such a simple word. Two letters, and virtually the same spelling and pronunciation in multiple languages. And, yet, I am much more apt to say “maybe,” which really isn’t super helpful to anyone involved because it leaves the door open to a road I already know I don’t want to go down. SO, take it from me – when your plate is full and your cup is spilling over with responsibility to and for others, make sure there is a little time carved out in there for you. And if there’s a “no” screaming in your head, say it. It’s not indulgence, it’s self-preservation.

You can be more effective, not to mention more fulfilled, if you actually replenish yourself along the way. Find your inner compass, actually listen to it, and let it guide you. Prioritize. Be in charge of your to-do list, not subjugated by it. Evaluate the opportunity cost of the choices you make – what do you sacrifice by committing to x, y, z? Be intentional with how you spend your time. Think “if I say yes to ‘x’, what will I have to say ‘no’ to?” Say no sometimes. Be true to you. Make sure you are filling your cup. I can assure you, life will provide ample opportunity to practice.

 

Have you ever heard of the Magic City?

The Magic City is a mystical place of incredible, humbling beauty, where the rivers run clear, the trees are tall and plentiful, and the mountain ranges and landscape are vast.  It is also a place of extraordinary opportunity: to have a high quality of life, to raise a family, to hunt and fish and hike.  Never heard of it?

How about a small town in Northern Maine called Millinocket?  The name means “the land of many islands” in the language of the native Penobscot people.  It is surrounded by lakes and rivers and sits in the shadows of Katahdin, the “greatest mountain”.  It is about as stunning a setting as one could imagine or even invent.

In the early 1900’s, the town of Millinocket sprung practically fully formed from the depths of the dense, wild woods to become a thriving paper mill town.  Because of its virtually spontaneous creation and rapid growth it came to be known as the Magic City.

The views of Katahdin from Millinocket and the natural wonders and wilderness setting of the Katahdin region are enough to earn it the magic moniker.  For a time, the bounty afforded by the papermaking world of the Great Northern Paper (GNP) Company was also magical.  For years, Millinocket boasted the highest per capita income in the state.  There were papermakers balls, an opera house and movie theatre, open access to GNP land for hunting and fishing, and the guarantee of a lucrative job waiting for high school graduates.  At its peak, GNP was the largest landowner in Maine.

If you have heard of Millinocket at all, chances are you’ve mainly read the dire headlines about how tough they’ve had it there since the paper industry, the one industry in town for a century, foundered and eventually closed in 2008.  U.S. Census data reveals that Millinocket’s population increased rapidly through the 1970s and has declined each decade since.  The balls and opera house were long gone by the 1990s when I first showed up there.  Now so too are the jobs and the tax base.  And, swiftly, the hope, many of the young people, and much of the magic have drained from the region.

But this is a story about finding hope in unexpected places.  And the Millinocket of the past decade, with its bleak headlines, empty storefronts, vacant homes, and abundant for sale and for rent signs, surely is a place where hope has been more difficult to find.

However, in 2015, Gary Allen, a Mainer from the coast, had an idea.  And that idea was to hold a Marathon.  In Millinocket.  In December.

That’s right.  26.2 miles in a relatively remote part of Northern Maine where the weather graph looks like this:

Millinocket Weather graph

Because of Allen’s connections in the running world, 50 people ran in 2015.  But it wasn’t only runners who showed up that day.  The people of Millinocket did, too.  And with that, a new connection, a new relationship, was formed, and Gary Allen’s idea became a spark that has transformed in the intervening years to become one of the small wins this region, this town, desperately needed.

The Millinocket Marathon and a Half is now a certified USATF course.  The race will take place on Saturday, December 8, 2018, for the fourth consecutive year. It is the only marathon that takes place in New England during the winter and it is fully subscribed with over 2,400 people registered to run.  No entry fee is charged for this Boston Marathon qualifying event.  Race organizers hope that instead racers and their fans will spend money in the town.  The concept is: “Don’t Run Millinocket for What You Get; Run Millinocket for What You Give”.

Meanwhile, being the Mainers that they are, the locals dove right in to welcome the runners.  They have organized an Artisan Fair with over 45 crafters.  There are spaghetti and pancake dinners planned, a variety show, and a pre-marathon breakfast.  Multiple local establishments are hosting parties after the marathon as well.  If you want to see Millinocket and northern Maine hospitality shine brightly, this is an amazing opportunity to do so.

This marathon is a vote of support and an influx of interest and money just when the town needs it most.  It’s a remarkable demonstration of what a little idea, some hope and determination, and a few connections can make happen.  Kind of like magic.  Just think what could happen if we all thought, every day, about what we could give versus what we could get.

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