Update: Northfield, state runs, tri-athalons, oh my!

Okay, let me try to organize my head about what's coming up. There's a lot!

But it's a good thing, I think, because I'm currently deep in the midst of helping an aging parent in post-fall recovery as well as placement in assisted living. I gladly do this, but it can be a bit wearing. So being sure to make time to be active is especially important if I'm going to keep my sanity and not fall into bad habits such as stress eating or lack of sleep.

So what's coming up? Well, I have a town run scheduled for this Saturday (June 23) in Northfield, which will bring me to #136. And I'd like to do one more longish run in the "50 states" campaign, just to make up for not getting one on the books in May. Perhaps Rhode Island next week?

And then there's my first-ever triathalon, set for Saturday, July 14 in Surry, N.H. It's a .25-mile swim, an 8-mile bike ride, then a 5K run. think I have the bike/run part nailed, but swimming? Swimming? Er, let's see.

I suppose I could just show up and flail my way through the quarter-mile without drowning. Even so, better judgment says I should make time to swim somewhere a few times prior to engaging in this.

So one plan is to take the bike on a long ride out to Harrisville, N.H., a community to the west of here that has a nice public beach. A 40-mile bike ride is probably not the best way to precede a swim, but at least I'll get in some good exercise that day.

Not sure when that'll happen but perhaps the 4th of July, which is a Wednesday this year and our business is closed. I don't have any silent film screenings on the weekends before or after the holiday, so there should be time. We'll see.

And then there's my goal of biking the entire 34-mile length of New Hampshire's Kancamaugus Highway, both ways, sometime this summer. I've been riding more and more, to the point where the tires on my Giant Defy road bike are getting worn down pretty good, so there's hope on that one. Sometime in late July/early August, on a day when the weather's not too dodgy up in the White Mountains. We'll see.

And wait! Speaking of the Whites, I'd like to make progress on getting to the summit of all 48 peaks that are 4,000 feet or higher. This was originally an attempt to get one of our dogs, Zahnna, to all 48 summits, but in the past year she's slowed down considerably and shows signs of hip trouble. So, alas, she may have to call it quits at #30, with 18 still to go.

Well, maybe. In the past week, she's been getting some new food supplement that seems to have perked her up for action, so perhaps it's time to hit the trail for some trial hikes. Not today, though, as it's nearly 6 p.m. and still well above 90 degrees. Maybe this weekend. (If I can suddenly find a spare 12 hours somewhere.)

So there's no shortage of options to stay active this season. It's a matter of staying organized, prioritizing, and also not getting injured. :)

State No. 4: Maryland, June 9, 2012

The hand-drawn not-to-scale semi-accurate route map that I carried with me.

State #4: Maryland

A film screening in Maryland was the excuse for completing State #4 in my evolving "Run a Big Run in All 50 States" quest. And the run, on Saturday, June 9, was a tricky one due to timing and weather.

The set-up: On 3 p.m. that day, the American Film Institute in Silver Spring, Maryland was premiering a new score for 'The Wind' (1928) by Andrew Simpson, a silent film acquaintance of mine. And I was there!

However, The only real window for a long run was mid-day prior to the screening. So I talked the front desk clerk at the local Days Inn to letting me get a room way before the usual 3 p.m. check-in time.

And so, at 12:05 p.m., I stepped out onto the streets of Silver Spring for an eight-mile journey, more or less. I usually try to shoot for some landmark to give these runs a shape and purpose, and also to help me navigate an unfamiliar area. In this case, it was Interstate 495, the "Beltway," the highway that encircles the D.C. area about six miles out.

My aim: to break out and get beyond the beltway!

Unfortunately, it was already about 90 degrees, and heading higher thanks to a blazing sun. With moderate weather at home in New Hampshire, I hadn't yet gotten used to summer heat, but thought I could handle it. On the plus side, there was a breeze, it wasn't too humid, and I had picked a route that offered the prospect of a lot of shade.

So starting from the Days Inn on 13th Street (right on the D.C. border with Maryland), the run was downhill for the first two miles. On Philadelphia, I passed houses with elaborate gardens, and on Maple, large apartment complexes. My first goal: something called the Sligo Creek Trail, which would take me about two miles to reach.

Okay, I thought -- a shaded respite from traffic hassles and other distractions. Well, yes, but after a while that gets boring. It wasn't bad, however, even as the paved foot-and-bike path zigzagged back and forth across the creek, making use of so many bridges that I lost count. (Hmmm, were federal dollars used in building this? Did some bridge money need to get used up?)

After three miles, I reached my first major decision. Bail from the trail at Colesville Road and head back to the hotel? Or keep at it until I hit I-495? My feet were sore (my running shoes are shot), the heat was building, and I didn't know what time it was, but I figured I'd go for I-495, at least to touch it and turn around.

And so I did, and before long I was hearing the rumble of truck engines and the hiss of tires on pavement. But it still took quite awhile before the trail reached the highway, which it passed underneath, coming out into a sunny shadeless field. I made it! Escape from the Beltway!

I decided then that I felt strong enough to keep going rather than turn around, turning left at a hospital and then going west until hitting Route 97, which would take me back to Silver Spring.

And then the shade stopped. And then the hills started. And I started to think I might be in trouble, both from the heat and the time.

It took an awfully long time to hit Route 97 (also called "Georgia Avenue"), and when I did, I found it to be a major commercial artery clogged with traffic at the approaches to its intersection with I-495, which loomed just ahead. With the sun blamming down, I maneuvered my way across four separate busy on-ramps and back under the Beltway, with traffic shimmering in the heat.

After that, I hit a stretch with some gas stations, and so looked for one where I might get some water. The convenience store I picked was air-conditioned (Hallelujah!), and also quite busy, so no one seemed to care when I took a large soda cup and filled it with water from the drink dispenser. I drank it slowly, feeling the heat radiate off me into the cool air, and then filled it again before heading back out in the heat.

I walked some more, finishing the water, and then began running again, not really knowing how far I still had to go and with no idea if I would actually make it to the theater by 3 p.m. Eventually I arrived in downtown Silver Spring (passing right by the AFI theater!), where I clock told me it was only 1:40 p.m. Whew!

By then, my feet felt like someone had been hitting them with a ball peen hammer, so I transitioned back to walk for the remaining half-mile to the Days Inn. Knowing that I'd made it back it time, it actually felt quite exciting to make that last turn onto 13th Street, knowing I'd accomplished what I set out to do.

Time in: 1:54 p.m. So that's 1 hour, 49 minutes to run a total of 8.1 miles, at least according to Google Maps. So four down, and only 46 more to go. Piece of cake, although I'm not sure how many mid-day runs in 90+ degree heat I'll be tackling. :)

This weekend: State #4 (Maryland) out of 50

This weekend I head off to Silver Spring, Maryland for the premiere of a new score for the silent film 'The Wind' (1928), put together by a fellow accompanist and composer, Andrew Simpson. And I'll use the occasion to do a 90-minute run through the suburbs of Washington, D.C., thus adding Maryland to the list of states in which I'm completed a major run. (For me, "major" is anything 90 minutes or longer.)

Right now, the weather is looking hot, with Saturday's highs expected to be in the 90s. So we'll see how I do.

I'm a little disappointed because May came and went without adding a state to the list -- the first time since I launched this quest. Well, that's what happens when you have too much going on. I'll try to add one of the close-by states in the next couple of weeks (in addition to Maryland), which would make June a two-state month.

Massachusetts, here I come!

Sunday, June 3: Effingham (#134) and Freedom (#135)

Today's scheduled 5K up in Effingham was cancelled, which I only found out via a note on the elementary school door after driving 90 minutes to get there. But that didn't stop me from claiming the town and neighboring Freedom as well.

Yes, today marked a new stage in my quest to run a 5K or better in every city, town, or unincorporated place in New Hampshire: my very first "Do-It-Yourself Double 5K" in which I ran 3.1 miles back-to-back on either side the border between two towns, or a 5K in each of them.

I wasn't planning to do this today, but the cancelled race kinda forced my hand, or feet. I don't know why the race was cancelled, but if it was because of the weather, that would have been ironic, as conditions were perfect for a long slog: overcast, cool, and with a slight mist coming down. (I just read where the Saco River in nearby Conway did reach flood stage on Sunday morning, so maybe that has something to do with it.)

Pulling out of the empty Effingham Elementary School parking lot, I resolved to stage my first "Do-It-Yourself" 5K, in which I run the distance, but not part of an official race. After running in 133 cities and towns, this was bound to happen: at some point, you run out of towns that hold races, even once in awhile. (I was surprised to find one scheduled for Effingham, actually!)

So, without really planning, it was time to try out my plan for staging an impromptu do-it-yourself race. Unfortunately, I didn't have a camera with me, so word pictures will have to suffice.

A quick check of the map showed that not only could I bag Effingham, but also neighboring Freedom. I just had to find a spot on the town line between the two communities, then drive 1.6 miles into each town (just over half a 5K), finding a turn-around landmark in each case.

Then, starting at the border, I would run 1.6 miles into one town to the first turn-around spot, then turn around and go back, making for the first 5K. Then I'd cross the border into the other town, run 1.6 miles to the second turn-around spot, then turn around and go back. Voila! Two 5Ks in two towns.

To do this, I followed Route 25 east to the Maine border, at first because I was looking for a bathroom and thought I'd find one there. (No luck.) But in doing so, I spied a perfect staging point for my back-to-back 5Ks: just off Route 25, an old box girder bridge over the Ossippee River, which marked the border between Effingham and Freedom.

Right next to the bridge was a little dirt parking area, perfect for the operation. So, to measure off the distance, I set my odometer's trip meter at 0.0 and drove into Effingham. The road quickly turned from paved to dirt, and then headed ruler-straight ahead (a rare thing for a dirt road) through a marshy wilderness area for nearly a full mile.

It then went back to pavement and hit Route 153, a minor state highway. To the left was a steep upgrade, so I headed right. (There are advantages to choosing your own route.) The car's odomoter hit 1.6 miles exactly at a yellow mailbox, so I had my landmark. I then made a U-turn to head back to the start, crossing the bridge into Freedom and resetting the trip meter back to 0.0.

Almost immediately, I was on Route 25, a fairly two-lane busy highway connecting Portland, Maine with New Hampshire's Lakes Region. Heading east for about a half-mile put me on much quieter Old Portland Road, a modest route full of broken pavement and presumably bypassed long ago by the highway.

In a series of modest hills, the road gained some altitude, then passed by a trio of classic hilltop New Hampshire farmhouses overlooking open meadows to the south. It then dropped off into a gully, the bottom of which was exactly 1.6 miles from the bridge, thus marking my turn-around point. So I turned around and headed back to actually start running.

How weird to park the station wagon on a quiet back road, stretch, put on my wet running shoes (yesterday's run left them soaked) but find they weren't really damp anymore at all), lock the car, and then just start running. None of the excitement of the starting line, none of the chatter, no one singing the national anthem or thanking the sponsors. It really was a "do-it-yourself" race, with emphasis on "yourself." Because I don't wear a watch, I just waited for the clock on my dashboard to turn to 10:28 a.m., and off I went.

The solitude was underscored by the long straight stretch of dirt road through a marshy wilderness preserve, during which I saw not a single vehicle. (Same on the way back, except for a sole Chevy pick-up which appeared just as I was rounding the last turn to reach my car.) My right achilles tendon was acting up a bit even at the start, so I was concentrating on that rather than the landscape around me, but it sure was lonely and wet. Really wet—for most of the route, the swamp's water table was high enough to be lapping at the edges of the dirt road.

Turning around at the yellow mailbox put me at the quarter mark, and I felt stronger on the way back. Because I was by myself, I could indulge in behavior that wouldn't be possible during a race. I could have brought one or two dogs along with me, for example, but just didn't have them this time. Also, I was able to test how far away from my car my key fob can be and still work. (Answer: very far, like 3/10 of a mile.)

At the car, I opened the now-unlocked front door and saw the time: 11:03! That means it took 35 minutes for me to run a 5K? Even allowing for a little extra distance, that's still a pretty lousy time for me, especially on such a cool day. Just shows you how important it is to be in a race to stay motivated to push yourself. (I think the achilles tendon thing was a factor as well, though it seemed to stop bothering me after awhile.)

Okay, then across the bridge and into Freedom. Just to illustrate how close the Maine border I was, the stretch of Route 25 I ran on was between the state line and the "Welcome / Bienvenue to New Hampshire" sign. I scooted along the highway until turning with relief onto quiet Old Portland Road, which offered only a handful of vehicles during my time on its crinkum-crankum pavement. Still, I felt strong as I powered up the grades, and even stronger coming down, which sometimes happens after four or five miles. Although my feet were starting to feel it, the rest of me seemed to be really strong in the second half.

By the time I got back the highway, the sky seemed to be lightening. I picked up the pace for a quick finish, sprinting down the mini-slope before the bridge and the crossing the border/finish line to the cheers of a completely imaginary crowd. Any cheers would have been drowned out by the Ossipee River below, which was absolutely raging after recent heavy rains.

So imagine my disappointment when the dashboard clock read 11:41 a.m. Sheesh, 38 minutes! Either I measured the distance incorrectly (not likely, given the simplicity of the operation), or I really do need the atmosphere and competition of an actual race to achieve a respectful time.

But that was that. No post-race water (except what I had in the car), no cheering on the slow-pokes unfortunate enough to come in after me, no checking the school gym wall for print-outs of finishing times. Just change my shirt into something dry, towel off my hair, hop in the car, and go.

And that's it. Towns #134 (Effingham) and #135 (Freedom) completed, and the unexpected start of a new phase of my quest. But it's about time, as I can't wait much longer for any communities if I'm to have hope of finishing my quest by the self-imposed deadline of May 14, 2016.

The Great Memorial Day Bike Ride

The New Boston (N.H.) Town Gazebo.

As this whole blog might indicate, I'm big on ritual. And just this past weekend (a long one, by virtue of the U.S. holiday of Memorial Day, which is celebrated on the last Monday of each May), I realized that I have another one going.

Let's call it "The Great Memorial Day Bike Ride." What happened was two years ago, the Friday of Memorial Day weekend was one of those spectacular spring days we get all too few of in our part of the world — warm, sunny, dry, and just full of promise.

So that afternoon, home early from work, I hopped on my bike, setting off on the first long ride of the season. It took me from my home in Bedford, N.H. on hilly back roads to the town center of New Boston, a small unsuburbanized community to the west. I then took Route 13, following the Piscataquog River downstream to Goffstown, a larger and busier town. From there, I took Wallace Road, which means a long climb up one side of the Uncanoonuc Mountains and then back down into Bedford.

It was long enough to be a memorable adventure, and at the time I thought it was the start to a season full of long bike rides. That was not to be, alas, as a biking accident that July sidelined me for the remainder of 2010. But it was memorable enough to spur me to get on my "new" bike (now more than a year old) this Memorial Day weekend for a repeat.

I hadn't planned on this, as our Memorial Day weekend had been otherwise claimed by houseguests from New York up for a family trip to the Granite State. But this past Monday, after making the rounds of the local cemeteries and putting petunias on the graves of relatives, I found myself back home on a day that was supposed to be the loser of the weekend, weatherwise, but was actually quite nice.

So I got out the bike and off I went, thinking that I had better get in some time if I'm ever going to be able to tackle the Kancamaugus Highway later this summer. (We'll see.) Yes, we had all climbed Mount Monadnock on Saturday, and my knees were still feeling it. So, even though the prior Memorial Day ride was in the back of my mind, my tired self (as well as predicted thundershowers) didn't plan on a repeat.

But who knows? Sometimes, once you're out on the bike, you find energy you didn't know you had. Grinding up a minor slope on Liberty Hill Road (the next street from my home), I felt terrible, like I should just turn back. But I kept going, and soon found I didn't want to stop. (Maybe it was the adrenaline rush from trying to cross Route 101 in Bedford, a busy highway that divides the town.)

And yes, before I knew it, I found myself downshifting to tackle the long steady grades on New Boston Road, then passing the New Boston town line, then making a right at a junction known locally as "Klondike Korner," all the while thinking I might need to turn back if a thunderstorm seemed likely.

But the sun stayed out and the sky stayed blue, spurring me deeper into New Boston, riding past homes sporting patriotic bunting and through the scent of evening cookouts wafting out onto the road. Up and down, and then finally DOWN, a steep grade and a sharp curve, putting me at the New Boston town gazebo.

Route 13 into Goffstown is pretty level, and I felt strong as I settled into this section. I was later surprised to find that I wasn't in the highest gear, but that had actually helped encourage me. After negotiating heavy traffic in Goffstown on Route 114, I peeled off onto Wallace Road and into the teeth of the long steady climb up the side of the mountain.

Home in two hours. Route of 28.1 miles, according to Google Maps. Not bad for a first big ride of 2012, and I hope the first of many. I do hope to do the Kanc later this season, and would also like to try for the seacoast -- perhaps even a round-trip! However, the idea of biking from York, Maine to my home is off for this season because they're replacing the one bridge in Portsmouth, N.H. that makes this ride possible. So maybe in 2013.

However, I find I do like the idea of a long solitary bike ride on Memorial Day weekend. It gives me time to think, and you can't help but think of Memorial Day as you pass all the decorated homes and, yes, smell the cookouts. It's a nice way to start the summer, and I think I'll try to do it again next year, weather willing.

In terms of running, a couple of new towns coming up: Effingham on Sunday, June 3, and Northfield on Saturday, June 23. However, at this rate, I'm not going to reach my goal of completing this quest by May 14, 2016, so I better start arranging for some back-to-back town runs.

Also, in terms of the "Running in All 50 States" quest, it looks like this will be the first month since I started in which I don't add a state to the roster. (Unless I sneak in a nearby one on Wednesday, May 30.) Well, we shall see. I have Maryland scheduled for June, Arkansas and Oklahoma for September, and several east/Midwest possibilities as part of a road trip in October, but it would be nice to keep the "every month" momentum going...

Saturday, May 19: 5K in Meredith (#133)

Meredith, with its white clapboard buildings and modest strip mall developments, is sort of like the upper middle class answer to Wolfeboro, the extremely well-to-do enclave on the other side of Lake Winnipesaukee.

And the 5K race on Saturday, May 19 was the first really hot one of the season, with bright skies and temps climbing towards 80 during the run. I finished in a pretty respectable time of 29:15, good enough to be 53rd out of 161, although a good number were walkers. (The race was a fundraiser: the Nathaniel Bibaud 5K Run/Walk 2012.)

One thing is that this race was point-to-point, starting at Inter-Lakes High School (perched on a bluff above town) and ending on town's Lake Winnipesaukee docks, where the 230-foot M/S Mount Washington calls. (But only once a week, apparently, according to this year's schedule.)

So it was a net downhill, but not without first taking us up into a residential neighborhood, and only then down a steep hill to the level of the lake, which it then follows around the bay to the town's center.

Unusual for New Hampshire communities, Meredith has an extensive network of sidewalks, which we used for long stretches of the race, especially near the end. Unfortunate, it seemed all the sidewalks were arranged so as to be in broad daylight at 10 a.m., meaning very little shade on this course.

Still, I felt fairly strong throughout the race, and was energzied by the last quarter-mile, which takes you along a network of wooden docks (which wobble a bit as you run on them) and a town park. With the finish in sight, I pushed hard and passed a gal who was also giving it a good try.

It was a good race, although I almost missed it due to incorrect information posted on www.coolrunning.com about it. This happens a few times a year, at least—I'll head all the way out to some unfamiliar part of town to seek out a race, and when I get to the listed starting point, no one's there! I think sometimes these people must fill out the form wrong, putting their office address (as town rec director, for example) instead of where the darn race is supposed to start.

Arriving in Meredith, I spotted the finish line no problem, so at least I knew a road race was indeed taking place. But the listing had the start at "Prescott Park," which was a mile or so up Route 3.

So up I went, to find a lot of people at Prescott Park, but no one who knew anything about a 5K race. So I went back into town, to question the folks at the finish line.

"Oh, it starts at the high school," a guy said. Okay! But how is it that organizers who post race info online get the starting location listed wrong so often? I can't tell you how many times I've been launched on wild goose chases to find races in unfamiliar, sometimes unsuccessfully. Okay, end of rant.

Got there with just enough time to register, bring change back to my car, and then arrive at the start, where festivities were already underway. After barely enough time to adequately stretch out, off we went, around the school and then, surprisingly, UP some side streets. (So much for my visions of an all downhill course...) After going in and out of a cul-de-sac, we then lost most of our altitude all at once, barrelling down a steep hill that bottomed out at lakeside.

For the final mile, the course followed the lake shore around to the town docks. Good news: Meredith is one of those rare New Hampshire towns that actually has sidewalks! Bad news: They invariably exist on the unshaded side of the road, at least during this road race.

Unusual feature: This is the first race I've run in with any appreciable distance on waterfront dockage! Weird, as some of the docks float on the water, meaning they roll a bit underfoot.

Finished strong but pushed myself a bit too hard, I think, judging by the overheated wastedness that enveloped me afterwards. I dispelled this zombie-like state by walking back to the starting point, which I didn't have to ask anyone about.

Biking home from Bollywood

No road races this weekend, but now that the semester's over (I've been teaching two courses at UNH-Manchester), trying to make room for a lot more activity among other commitments. And, in the process, for the first and perhaps only time in my life, I got to change my clothes in a movie theater.

Yesterday was a good example of how it's working lately. Volunteered to help at a colleague's Bollywood Film Festival, but it was such a nice day (sunny, dry, mid-70s) that a bike ride was imperative.

So the wife dropped me and the bike off at the funky Wilton Town Hall Theatre, site of the Bollywood Festival, which is about 20 miles from our home in Bedford, N.H. (Alas, I didn't pack the camera, so no original photos with this post.) Soon as I was discharged from my festival duties, I snuck into the unused "screening room" to change into bike clothes and did the 90-minute ride back to home base.

But that wasn't all. We have three dogs, and they really need to get exercised pretty much every day (as do I). So after giving our lawn a haircut, it was off to the races with the two younger pups, taking them on an abbreviated run/walk to a nearby brook so they could jump in and burn off some energy.

I held it there, and I'm glad I did, because my right Achilles tendon continues to feel a little dodgy. And I wanted to try a longer run today, in advance of this month's "50-stater," jaunt next weekend, which will probably be either Massachusetts or Maine. We'll see.

On that score, June will be Maryland (when I travel to a film event), and September and October will be Oklahoma/Arkansas/Missouri, which leaves July and August to fill. And then November will be the Manchester (N.H.) Marathon, so if I keep up the one-a-month pace, I should get to 10 by the end of the year, anyway.