Races around Asotin

Time to look at some local races around Asotin. The holidays are over and, if my scale is correct, the damage was minimal - except to the habit of running. Since I have a marathon that I need to be ready for (running, not racing), I need to get it going. The nice thing about marathon training is missing a day won't break you. Trying to do too much, too fast, might. Patience, perseverance, and a good sense of humor will get you to the start line. In the meantime, we have a bunch of local races on the calendar. I'll only probably do two, one as a training run, the other as a benchmark to see where I'm at.

Here are all the races I could find in the area for the late winter/early spring.

Feb. 8 - Sweetheart Run, Lewiston ID - 4 mile run or 2 mile walk, benefits local youth charities.

Feb 15 - Edge of Hell, Lewiston ID - 4 or 8 mile trail run in Hells Gate State Park. Beautiful scenery and one of my favorite areas to run in the Lewis-Clark Valley. If you look across the river, you can see my house.-and most of Asotin.

Feb. 22 - Celebrate Life, Lewiston ID - 7K run, 3K walk, benefits kids with cancer.

Mar. 1 - Snake River Half-marathon, Pullman, WA- 13.1 miles of running beside the Snake River, sponsored by the Palouse Road Runners. No traffic and a course elevation chart that looks like this: ________________. If you run it, I'll be at the 4 miles aid station cheering you on. The rest of the Asotin cross country team will be there along with Coach Tim Gundy, manning the 4 and 6 mile stations.

Mar. 15 - St. Patrick's Day 5/10K, Clarkston WA - Your choice of distance on a fast course. You have to wait for the holiday itself for the green beer.

Mar 21/22 - Snake River Triathlon, Lewiston ID, The swim is Friday, the evening before the ride/run. Check the website for details. The race is put on by Lewis-Clark State College's Cross Country program. Mike Collins, the coach, does a great job of organizing the event and it is chip-timed.

Mar 22 - Hells Canyon Adventure Run and Ultra, Idaho - A self-supported run of either 15 or 28 miles depending on which version you choose. 100 percent on trails in Hells Canyon. This is the one on my list as a training run.

Mar 30 - WSU 100K Relay/Solo, Pullman WA - Got some friends? Grab them, put together a team and have some fun with a relay. If you don't have friends crazy enough to join you, you can always run it as an Ultra. I heard a rumor that since this is the 25 Anniversary, the Palouse Road Runners are planning  25 percent weather. We'll see how that goes.

Apr. 5 -  Mike Jensen Memorial 5K, Lewiston ID -  Another charity run, this time for grieving children.

Apr. 18 - Twilight 5K, Lewiston ID - Another of Coach Collins events, it's a fast, flat course on the levee. This will be my "where-am-I-at?" race as I get ready for the marathon in Colorado.

Apr. 26 - Seaport River Run, Clarkston WA - I'd put up a link but the City of Lewiston hasn't posted it yet that I can find.

Apr. 26 - St. John Hog Jog, St John WA - I haven't done this one and maybe it's time I headed up. 2 and 5 mile options in one of my favorite little towns. Also the chief competitors for Asotin Cross Country girls and really nice kids.

So that gets us into later spring. Pick a couple and have some fun.

Nice Mention at the Book Designer

The cover for Finishing Kick got a nice mention at the Book Designer blog run by guru Joel Friedlander. A nice win for the designer, Kit Foster of the UK.

JF: Very effective, with lovely typography.

If you're interested in books, how they get put together, and what compels a reader to pick up a particular book, Joel has hundreds of articles to satisfy that itch.

NaNoWriMo

Below is a letter that I wrote about National Novel Writing Month (NaNoWriMo) which is every November, during the last such occasion. Lost in the blitz of 50,000 words in one month (very doable!) was a point that bothered the hell out of me. When in doubt, seek out a wise woman . . . Sorry to trouble you with an email rather than post to the comments of your NaNoWriMo post but didn’t think that the comments I had fit the discussion. Fast background – I’m a new writer, in my 50’s, male, far less than a million words of crap written. I don’t have time for a million words of crap.

I put words to paper before I learned any craft-and that I’m learning from books, James Scott Bell and Dwight Swain and James Gardiner. Just reread/listened to Steven King’s On Writing.  Despite the presence of two colleges and two universities, there do not appear to be craft classes in my region. The writers that I do meet (often during the day job) are engage in a fanatical pursuit of literary recognition.

I’m not.

I started writing fiction because I couldn’t go for a run without a scene building in my head that would bring tears to my eyes and my run to a halt. So I attempted to exorcise the beast by writing a prologue-and it made people cry. And the beast fed on it, so last year about this time, I sat down and started pouring it onto paper and, in June, had a novel. I fixed my more egregious errors and handed it to family and a pair of 13 year-old girls that I help coach during cross country season.

Family cheered, cried, and declared it good. In the family of one beta reader, it caused a fight. I’ve coached all four girls, and the youngest was the one that had the book. The others swiped it, read ahead, talked about plot and characters and funny bits; tears ensued and rules were set up so that Carmen could finish first.

All of which is great validation but scares the crap out of me.

I know my craft isn’t solid. I stand in amazement of truly gifted writers and respect both the genius and the dedication it takes. I’ve taken several of Dean’s classes, primarily those orientated towards the business side to be able to bring a product to market that exceeds standards. My goal, stated to my cover designer, is to put out a product that is as good, or better, than what the Big 5 consider acceptable.

One of my jokes is that I’m an ultrarunner because my primary skill is being too dumb to quit. It works for writing as well. The day job helps, too. I get called an idiot often enough that it no longer raises a hackle. In both, I know how to improve.

In writing, I’m trapped between worlds. The number of good classes out there seems to be in inverse proportion to the ever-expanding number of offerings. The higher status workshops will never take me – not only do I lack the requisite MFA, but I lack even the university pedigree. The workshops that promise skills often too often seem intent on teaching the skill of wisely selecting courses that will cost the least in lost lucre and time. They are, however, profitable to run as are ventures such as Author Solutions.

You and Dean have some courses that I’ll be taking as does David Farland. After that, it seems a bit thin. I generally rule out anything promoted or heavily influenced by agents.

In the meantime, I am running out of books that seem worthwhile. Some seem downright awful. Most by literary writers are neurotic as hell which gets a little tedious. The blogs are worse.

After that, where does someone stuck (willingly) in the middle of nowhere go for training. I don’t need a pat on the back – I have long arms, I can do that myself. I need someone honest enough to kick me in the teeth and point out what I must do better to be a successful writer.

I don’t count success as a best-seller or in money though I’ll take both if they come along. My books are landing in the valleys situated between the genres. Either they’ll become highly successful niche books or they’ll disappear soundlessly.

My ego is such that I expect the former. I know you caution – as does Dean – against expectations too high. But I’m defining success my way, and, if I land in that perfect space where people yearn for a literature about them, I’ll sell a book or two.

I want my readers to feel what I feel. I’m not asking for riches or recognition, I just want the girls (most will be girls, which is ironic to this middle-aged man) to lose themselves in a world that was created for them, that’s authentic to them, and be inspired.

And the early readers are saying that they are, even if they don’t know it. One of them, at the District meet referenced my main character, saying she was “going to pull a Callie.” More high praise. . . and I cringe

Because my craft isn’t good enough, not yet and these girls deserve better than I can give them now.

So where do you go to learn how to create a memory? Not plot. Not setting, not any of the parts of the story. How do you learn to create something that will give them a memory that they can use now and twenty years from now?

How do you touch them and show them their own beauty?

Running Quote of the Week

I'll see how many of these I can track down. Here is the redoubtable Dr. George Sheehan. I highly recommend his books, especially Dr. Sheehan on Running. It's not a book on how to run faster or longer or even better. It's a book on why we run, what moves and touches us to be runners.

"It's very hard in the beginning to understand that the whole idea is not to beat the other runners. Eventually you learn that the competition is against the little voice inside you that wants you to quit." - George Sheehan

If you are a sales person, I would suggest listening to Blair Singer (or reading the book but I like the CD I have) and his Little Voice Mastery Systems Audio CD.

Is it a New Year?

Okay, it's time to layout a few goals for the New Year. I came into 2013 with three writing goals- first, to become a writer, then become a professional writer, and after that, a paid professional writer. I managed all three though I set a very low bar for the last item. I made enough that I could afford more than a single cup of coffee at Starbucks and counted that as a win. Along the way, I racked up nearly 200,000 words of writing between two books, a couple of short stories, and the blogging. The finished novel, Finishing Kick, is up for sale at all the major online places in print and electronic formats.

I also had a goal of shrinking the business by twenty percent. Missed that one badly and basically didn't downsize it at all.

I had no running goals. I couldn't run at the beginning of the year and this was possibly my most painful year since I was about seven. The meds the doc put me on for the gout triggered a non-stop 6 month attack with a brief respite when she pulled me off the pills for a month, worried about liver and kidney damage.

Turns out that neither was a problem and, when she put me back on the pills, the worst of the attacks had passed. By June, I could run a mile and a half and, by year end, ten. None fast but that's okay.

Now for this year's goals.

Writing, 200,000 new words, which is about 4,000 per week. That will give me at least two more novels or a passel of short stories. Blogging and Facebook don't count. Publish two more pieces of work and list them for sale. Start (hopefully finish) a novel in a new genre. Get one review from a notable in the running field for one of the books.  - good or bad.

Work. Still trying to downsize.

Running. A trail marathon with a friend. A trail run along the Snake River in Hells Canyon that I've wanted to do and not managed to schedule. And maybe, if everything goes well, a small ultra run. Mostly because I miss it. The Seven Devils call . . .

Reading a Novel is Good for your Brain

I'm suffering early from the post-holiday blahs - I should be writing but meh, not in the mood so I surfed the internet and came across an article in the Independent that cites a study that says reading a novel boosts brain function. The primary area of the brain affected is the left temporal cortex which, according to the article, controls language (makes sense) and is the primary area for processing motor sensory data. Scientists speculate that this area of the brain 'tricks' us into thinking that it's doing something it's not - the example they use is that reading about running can trigger the same neurological activity that actually running does.

The improved function lasted at least five days after completing the novel, too.

Now, the part they didn't mention is whether this is good or not. I'm presuming that it is - we learn through stories and placing ourselves squarely in the role of the protagonist (unless you want to be a serial killer or something in which case be Dexter or the antagonist) should be an advantage.

It might also give some hints on how to educate kids. I expect this to get buried by the mis-education establishment.

Anyway, I did manage to write about 500 words, not counting this blog post, so it's not a totally wasted day. I'm going to settle in with a good novel and improve my brain.

The glass of Shiraz? That's for my heart . . .

Turkey Track Trail Run, Week 1

It's time to ask forgiveness from the trail gods for my hubris. A friend asked if I wanted to do a marathon with him. The race? The XTERRA Turkey Track Trail Run, 26.2 miles of mostly single track at 8,000 feet of altitude in Pagosa Springs, Colorado. I haven't run a marathon in seven years, haven't sun more than twenty miles a week in more than a year, haven't been healthy for more than four months (I have gout and it's definitely a pain but improving), and haven't a goal in the world other than enjoying my regained ability to cover ground at a slow lope.

Naturally, I said yes.

I needed something to inspire me. I've done marathons and dealt with crowds and overpriced expos. I've done ultras and discovered how wonderful Vaseline can be and that I can run with sore feet for an awfully long time. I've solo-run trails in the Seven Devils, turning 30 or 35 miles in a day, just for the sense of awe-and I plan to do so again. But none of that was getting be past fitness-runner status and that was okay. I like being fit.

But something was missing.

Excitement.

I don't run just to rack miles or add to a marathon total. The Marathon Maniacs run aiming for totals, 3 marathons in 16 days, or 31 marathons in 365 days. Impressive, yes, but no more inspiring than the accumulation of blackened toe nails. Like the folks that keep track of their consecutive days running, the type that say "Oh, I haven't missed a day in eleven years, six months, thirteen days and," a pause to check the Timex, "seventeen hours."

I'm not that Type A.

I also don't like crowds so Chicago or New York are not in the plans. I got my fill of crowds at a couple of Rock 'n Rolls in San Diego. Dodging people for the first fifteen miles (do people lie or what to get into the first corrals - I always give a realistic appraisal of speed and ALWAYS end up passing a butt-load of slow-pokes. It's rude.)

I've done a lot on trails and, given an option, would never run on pavement again. A trail marathon is new but only because I haven't raced one before.

The exciting part isn't the race-it's that I plan on running with a partner. Most of the time, my running buddies are faster than me. If you've seen me run, it's perfectly understandable. In this case, we're pretty evenly matched. And, because I'm coming back from such a long way, I'm more interested in running than racing. (Though I checked the age group results, but only once - it's a habit!)

We'll be training separately since he's in Colorado and it's a bit far to travel just for the weekend long run. We'll follow different plans. I've been here before and I know what works for me. Lots of miles, a bit of speed, steady progressions. I've got time for two full cycles on the speed work - mostly tempo and enough striders to knock the burrs off my form and clean it up. Gradual ramp up on the long run, lots of them, one every two weeks so the legs can recover in between. It's all sitting in a spreadsheet.

Life will happen between now and race day so the schedule will get blown up at least once. Adapt and survive and get to the start line.

After that, it's all good.

Graphic isn't Real

A post on the KillZone Blog  sparked a bit o thinking this morning about the difference between graphic and real and the realization that graphic isn't real. Well, a post and a pot of coffee and a lousy show on Netflix last night. We watched about twenty minutes of the show (it will remain nameless but feel free to speculate on your own) before turning it off. The reason? It was insufficient for the writers or producers to get us to use our imagination on the grisly murders. They felt it necessary to take the screen, shove it against our noses, and rub it in the gore. span This offends me. Mostly I attribute it to getting a bit cantankerous as I get older but if I wanted that visceral (and perhaps vicarious?) thrill, I could go to an abattoir. What I wanted was entertainment, what they gave me was a massacre without a reason to care.

The story line wasn't bad (though not original) and the acting was acceptable. The problem was that the writers or the producers had so little faith in the story that they resorted to graphic images to compensate. The other implication, the audience is dull and incapable of appreciating a properly developed story, is just depressing.

It's not the first show that I've tuned out because of this problem and I don't bother going to the movies any more. The dramas are slow and dull, the comedies force the laughs, and action movies no longer require much more that a constant bombardment of explosions. Most of the acting is pretty poor, too. As I said, I'm working on getting cantankerous.

I see it happen in novels, too, as writers confuse being graphic with being real and plot with story. In a bit of heresy, I am reevaluating the age old advice "show, don't tell" because I am beginning to suspect that this particular pendulum has swung too far.

The constant "show, show, show" places the perceptions of the author into the story and, I think (still pondering this) blocks the natural imagination of the reader. Well-built storytelling should blend the showing into, in measured doses, the fabric of the work. I enjoy writers who trust me as a reader to understand the world they built and the people in it and to add my imagination to help bring it to life. Without that trust between the writer and the reader, there are simply words on a page, uninspired and limp.

Writers like Robert Heinlein or Elmore Leonard did a lot of telling, far more so than showing, but were masters of their craft and excellent at the art of storytelling. I'm not sure that either developed plot outlines or large character sketches. They told stories.

What they excelled at was keeping the reader asking, "And then what happened?"

Are you living an expansive life?

I'm reading a book, Fiction Attack, by James Scott Bell, author and writing coach extraordinaire, and he asks that very question: Are you living an expansive life? Are you taking risks and learning or playing it safe? For most people, the answer is to play it safe. And there are good evolutionary reasons to do exactly that. After all, early adopters in the paleolithic era tended to get eaten by saber-toothed tigers if the newest idea didn't work out as planned. All species are driven by a strong survival instinct (with the possible exception of the panda) and taking chances was, well, chancy.

But advancement can't be accomplished by sitting in the crook of the tree, watching the world go by. Or in front of the TV. To learn new things, to grow, a person needs to leave the comfort zone and explore. Explorations don't need to be on foot or to some strange land. The most arduous journeys start inside you, asking a simple question: "What if. . . ?"

What if I asked that girl out?

What if I learned Italian?

What if I climbed that mountain?

Not everybody wants to, or even needs to, live an expansive life but if you want to reach your maximum potential as a contributing human being, playing it safe isn't an option. All history is built by people pushing boundaries. Those who dared to try something new, like powered flight, are revered as 'unique' and 'special'. They are neither - they are simply people who were willing to climb out of the tree.

Do many of these folks perish? Absolutely, sometimes in spectacular fashion.  Watch Birdmen: The Original Dream of Flight if you want an appreciation of how intensely limits can be pushed.

Not every act needs to be death-defying, of course. Some of those 'what if's' exist purely in the realm of the mind, creating new ways to look at things. The American Revolution was a new way to organize a country. Relativity by Einstein was a new way to view the universe. Ideas are perhaps the most profound life-changers.

History is also strewn with those who played it safe but backed the wrong leader, the wrong idea. In the end, there's no such thing as playing it safe. Hoping that the group simply spreads your risk - and your exposure to risk - over a larger entity.

So, back to the question: are you living an expansive life? Do you ever think. . . what if. . . .?

Holiday Fun Runs

Yep, Christmas is coming, so it's that time of year: the holiday fun run in frigid temperatures and, for the more adventurous, costumes. The Asotin Cross Country team is sponsoring the Joy to the World Run on December 21st. Last year, it was the End of the World run but apparently the Mayans were wrong. It's a 2- and 5-mile fun run that starts and finishes at the Asotin track. You can download an entry form here --> JTTWFunRun13 As an added bonus - and a surprise to the Race Director, Tim Gundy, since I didn't bring this up to him yet - I will be sponsoring a "Best Costume Award" which is probably a $15 gift certificate to Tri-State Sports.

There are other relatively local holiday fun runs as well:

The Seaport Striders have their Santa Run this Saturday, December 7th, at Swallows Nest Park in Clarkston. Entry form --> 2013santarun. They also have their annual New Year's Day Hangover Run - which I have never run but not due to hangovers. Entry form

Want something more challenging? How about a winter 50K. Pullman is holding one on the 14th (though you don't have to do the whole thing). Pullman Winter Ultras. Kindly, they include this informational notice. IMPORTANT: The Pullman Winter Ultra Series is a no-fee, low-key, no-support, slip-on-ice, freeze-your-toes-off, drink-a-beer-afterward-or-during, fun-run-style event.

If anybody knows of other fun runs at the holidays around here, let me know. Colfax used to have one (the Santa Run, where I dressed up like a reindeer with a couple of friends and pulled Sara around on a sleigh. Lance had to wear the red nose.)

Up on the Palouse Divider, they used to run the Mangy Moose 5K and 10K but that disappeared a couple of years ago, unfortunately.

Run gently, folks, and bundle up. It's a mite nippy out there (single digits this morning) and a white Christmas looking more likely by the day. Perfect for trying out new running gear that Santa brings.

Finishing Kick up on Amazon

Finally! A month or two later than we wanted but Finishing Kick is now for sale, print and electronic on Amazon. Should be live on the other electronic formats within a couple weeks.

If you know a young lady that runs, I have a suggestion for a gift.

Thinking in the Middle of the Night

I spend valuable sleep time thinking in the middle of the night when I really ought to be catching some rest. Sure, there are other things you can do in bed - I read a lot - but sleep is high on the list of things I like to do. I'm just not very good at it. It's not due to a lack of practice. I try. I've turned into a champion power napper. Set the internal clock for 13 minutes and I'll nod off for 12 minutes and 45 seconds. Those naps aren't true sleep, though, and the brain roams at will. Some very good ideas came from those naps. Also some really bad ones but that might be from eating odd foods at lunch.

Nighttime should be restful and serene, at least according to all the mattress commercials. If the nights aren't peaceful, the pill-pushers at AstraZeneca have an answer. I've never tried a sleeping pill - given the strange way my system managed Vicoden when the doc prescribed it  (it amps me right through the roof) and the list of side effects that all these meds come with, I'll just skip the pills.

Booze doesn't work either. That's not news for most people since the health nannies have been yammering about the evils of alcohol consumption for years, including a warning that the stuff alters sleep patterns. Plus, I tried using booze - a fifth of rum, specifically - to shut down my brain when I was sixteen. Didn't work, just made me paralytic and cognizant of the fact. The next-day ramifications were also rudely unpleasant. I gave it up (partially, as I still enjoy an evening tipple) as a lost cause.

Going to sleep is not the problem. I did that well last night, slept through the puppy yipping at midnight when Donna gave her the pain meds (we have a post-surgery puppy at home to help its recovery) or the big dog whining to go out at 4AM. Yet, I know I spent hours thinking in the middle of the night. A plot line and dialogue popped in to say hello and show me where Trail of Second Chances is headed today.

The back of my head even organized my day - write early, work, presentation with the terrific folks at Windermere, more work, reinspect, pick up a radon detector, and, if I don't wimp out, run.

I also had an idea worth writing about. That's how Rose came into being. A dream that woke me up and moved me to put it on paper.

Last night, it was a blog post, something profound. The brain framed the discussion, even started doing a first write on it. I remember being excited and thinking "ooh, this can be gooood!"

You see the problem already, don't you? While my body was crashed out, the brain worked. Which is great except the act of waking up the body made me forget everything!

Which is why, rather than a profound post that could change the way you see the world, I have this post to offer.

It isn't the thinking in the middle of the night that bothers me; it's the forgetting of the thoughts that annoys the heck out of me.

Finishing Kick, Back from the Editor!

Yea! The editor has sent Finishing Kick back with some minor tweaks needed. According to the publisher, we're within a month of having the book printed and for sale. Now - back to work. As in, the writing for the current book, Trail of Second Chances, reviewing the edits on Finishing Kick, and the day job that pays all the bills at this point.

Yesterday I watched a girl run the best race of her life - and cry.

Both the girls and boys teams qualified at the District meet last week and lined up yesterday to compete against the best runners in the State of Washington at the State Cross Country Championship in Pasco, Washington. For me, it marked the end of an era. I had no children of my own racing for the first time in nearly a decade but, for a decade, we've made the trek west. We did it again yesterday.

The girls ran first, at 10:00 under a single patch of clear sky, the only one of the day. At the previous editions of the Championship, I sped from point to point to cheer on the team and, specifically, daughters. This year, I camped at the two mile mark, out past no-mans-land and cheered.

One girl suffered from a lingering cold but the team ran well, competed hard and took fourth place in the State. The race for placement was almost impossibly tight. A single point separated the second through fourth place finishes.

The boys team faired better, placing second overall with Chandler Teigen just missing the course 2B record. Given some serious competition, the record probably would have fallen. It will next year. All boys ran well, confident and aggressive and proud. And they deserved their place on the podium.

But the lasting memory that I carry away isn't the girls or boys on the podium, the freshmen running so well, or Chandler running away from the field.

It was of a single girl, a team captain, a senior, holding onto her dad and in tears, not from disappointment - at that point they didn't know the scores - but because it was over. A team that she has been a part of for four years, the relationship with a coach that she admires, the memories of the girls she competed against resolved into a single moment - and was over.

Sometimes the kids don't realize how special their teammates and their competition is. But some, a few, they indeed realize that an important marker just passed, one that can never be recalled except in memories.

I coached this young lady five years ago and the images from that time still make me smile. At least one element of her will eventually make it into a book of mine - one of my favorite memories of coaching, a little waif of a girl with steady, wise eyes and a question.

Last year, I held my daughter while she cried, and I had no words other than 'I love you' and 'I am so proud of you.' I said the same things to another daughter on her final high school race, though it took her two years to understand fully.

So yesterday, I watched athletes run with beauty and grace, with strength and heart, flying towards that finish line. For one moment, I saw a scene of beauty, family, friends, teammates, bound up in one hug and some tears.