Manchester (N.H.) half-marathon round-up: 13.1 miles on Sunday, Nov. 4

Yes, that's me running in front of Manchester's iconic City Hall. All that's missing is a zig-zag black stripe on my shirt to make me a dead ringer for Charlie Brown.

Time for a quick account of the Manchester (N.H.) Marathon before the details as remembered are completely swallowed by the onrush of the holidays and everything else.

My hometown marathon, run this year on Saturday, Nov. 4, was of special interest because it was scheduled for the same day as the New York City Marathon, which was abruptly cancelled thanks to Hurricane Sandy.

So hundreds of NYC Marathon refugees, many of them international runners who'd come a long way for their bite of the Big Apple, came a bit further to the Queen City instead. Organizers were on the ball, too, allowing late registrations and somehow handling it all with nary a hitch.

Race morning dawned clear and cool, with a chilly wind occasionally kicking up out of the northwest. Earlier, it wasn't windy at all at my house, hence my decision to run the half-marathon (13.1 miles), in just shorts and the official Manchester Marathon long-sleeved t-shirt.

My usual "wear a sweatshirt" point is 40 degrees Fahrenheit, and the morning was somewhat above that. But when the wind began gusting downtown, I felt it, especially when out of the sun. Brrrr! Things never truly warmed up, although that wasn't a problem considering how we all were spending the morning.

And I have to say, if you just showed up for this race, you'd get the impression that this was one small city that really had its act together. (Those of us who live around here know better.) The event was well organized, the streets were clean, and the course took runners through some of Manchester's most distinctive cityscapes, parks, and suburban enclaves. A festive air prevailed.

I took it slow -- slow enough for the trailing police cruiser to be burbling along behind me at one point, holding back traffic. Even so, I was surprised when my right Achilles tendon flared up just four miles in. Damn! It gradually worked its way out, however, and by the time we were descending Campbell Street towards Livingston Park, I was back to full form.

The half-mile through Livingston Park was a new part of the course, and it was one of my favorite segments. The place, with its rambling trails and ledgy outcrops, reminds me of the more remote sections of New York City's Central Park, and is a nice break from the street-running that makes up most of the course.

A long stretch on Belmont Street was made bearable by local residents cheering on runners, and then we veered west onto a quiet section of Bridge Street for a loop out underneath Interstate 93 and back.

At about the 10-mile mark, two things happened. 1) My feet really started to feel it, and 2), the marathon runners kept heading east while we half-marathoner cut off to the right, looping over to Hanover Street to head back to downtown and the finish.

The genius of this shortly became apparent when the marathon runners rejoined us on Hanover Street, only they were now at Mile 17, while we were working on Mile 11. The result was that us plodding half-marathoners were now carried up and over the last big hill on Hanover Street by a wave of marathon runners who were keeping much faster paces than we were.

So the half-marathon's last two miles were run concurrently with Mile 17 to Mile 19 of the full marathon, which was a nice way to keep us pushing. The half'ers split off to the left only on Elm Street, right before our finish line, while the 'thoners (is that a word?) peeled off to the left for their final seven miles.

I finished in an elapsed time of 2:32:19, a mile pace of 11:38 -- pretty slow for me. I came in 730 out of 816 finishers, pretty near the back of the pack. Despite this slow pace, I was surprised to find that just three full marathoners completed the course before I finished the half.

Post-race wrap-up: I felt okay that afternoon, but later in the day began feeling the effects of what amounted to serious chafing on the inside of both thighs. Ouch! Must be the shorts I was wearing, as the same thing happened (same shorts) in Chicago last month, even with a generous layer of BodyGlide.

A night of rest and Gold Bond Medicated Powder helped quell that, but Monday morning brought severe cramping in my left foot, to the point where it was hard to walk without hobbling around. Wearing an icepack (attached to my ankle with a rubber band) helped a bit, and later I felt reasonably well.

In an example of extremely poor planning, that Sunday and Monday were the days when we moved my mother from one assisted living home to another. Ouch! I'll try to avoid such a situation in the future.

One bonus of the Manchester City Marathon is that it allowed me to claim my home state of New Hampshire in my quest to run a 10K or better in all 50 states. This brings me to a total of nine, so I'm almost one-fifth of the way there. Baby steps, I know, even when running 13.1 miles.

Another postscript: I just learned from Andy Schachat's running column in the Union Leader that while the number of full marathon runners increased by several hundred this year, the number of half-marathoners went from 815 up to 816 -- an increase of exactly one. I take full credit! Andy did a great job as announcer, by the way. I associate his voice so much with New Hampshire road races that they just don't seem complete without him.

The images in this post, by the way, are courtesy of nuvisionactionimage.com, the marathon's official photography partner. Their Web site allows you to search for images of yourself by bib number, and you can download them for no charge. Nice!

Looking back at October, looking forward to November

What I got when I finished the Manchester (N.H.)Half-Marathon back in 2007.

October has been a fast month, with a lot of distractions. But I've managed to stay sane in part becaused I've managed to stay active, at least somewhat. Not so much in terms of making progress on my separate projects, but enough to be ready for something big next week.

That something is the Manchester (M.H.) half-marathon, set for Sunday, Nov. 4, and I'm planning to join in the fun. Not only will it be a good long run, but will also add State #9 (my home state of New Hampshire) to my quest to run at least a 10K in all 50 states.

Looking back at October, the 50-state quest is where I found most success, starting off with a wonderful early morning run through the streets of Fayetteville, Arkansas on Tuesday, Oct. 2 and then continuing with another long run, this time through the much more active streets of downtown Chicago on Monday, Oct. 8.

However, I missed two other chances due to cancelled travel plans. I had hoped to get to Texas and North Carolina this month on business, but in both cases the jaunts got scrubbed due to an overcrowded schedule and an ailing mother and her adventures with rehab hospitals and assisted living facilities.

In the New Hampshire category, October saw only one new town, Grafton, back on Saturday, Oct. 6. After that, things conspired to limit further progress. But I really need to get going on this if I'm going to complete it no later than May 14, 2016. If there's a mild winter, I hope to do a few more back-to-backs to begin filling in the holes on the map.

Still, the month saw continued running (and some biking) in between many other commitments. I would love to be below 200 pounds at my next check-up in December, and it's still quite doable if I manage the nutrition side of things a little better and stay active.

And November brings with it a Thanksgiving Day race in Sandwich, a huge town that will be nice one to color in.

Saturday, Oct. 6: Grafton, Town #139

The course was once the main railroad line linking Boston and Montreal.

Ran a 5K this morning in Grafton, an up-country towns in the state's western hills. Finished in 29:58, a minor miracle for me. The fact that there was actually an official race in Grafton was a minor miracle as well.

The morning was warm--warmer than you'd expect for the Saturday on Columbus Day weekend. Grafton is a small town on Route 4 about an hour away from home base, and it's far enough up for you to still see Ron Paul for President signs on the side of barns.

I know Grafton as one of the towns on the "Northern Line," meaning a railroad that linked Concord, N.H. with White River Junction, Vt. by snaking through this part of the state. At one time the corridor was part of the main linking connecting Boston and Montreal, and was very busy both with passenger and heavy freight.

Alas, the line was abandoned in the 1980s, and the tracks have since been removed. But the corridor itself remains intact, and still runs through the small towns of western New Hampshire -- often straighter and more level than Route 4, which parallels it. These days, it serves as a route for fiber optic cables as well as a recreational trail in Andover, Danbury, and yes, Grafton.

As such, it played host to today's race, both the 5K (which I ran) and the 8K course. The event was a fundraiser in support of the Grafton Historical Society's efforts to restore a local carding mill that dates from 1823.

Getting ready to run.

The race started from a recreational field off Route 4. An interesting side adventure was a lone portable toilet that I made use of. The thing was in a state of almost comical disrepair, and felt like it was about to tip over when I stepped inside. Here's a picture:

About 40 people turned out, with most walking or running the 5K; the course for the latter would be entirely on the railbed of the Northern Line, which at least meant a level course. (The 8K included hills outside of town and then a leg back on the railbed.)

I knew it would be an interesting race when I overhead organizer Andrew Cushing mention that he wasn't sure if the rail trail has been mowed lately. And the next thing I knew, a young gal was crazily shouting "Who wants to SAVE THE MILL!?" And that was our signal to start.

The course was level, yes, and took us past the usual railroad archaeological sites: old depot platforms, etc. I was surprised to see not one single tie or spike, so the salvage folks were very thorough. I found it strange to be jogging exactly on a path where immense steam locomotives once ruled.

Not sure of my order of finish, but I wasn't the last 5K runner, so I can say at least that much. The 29:58 time was encouraging, as I haven't done too many timed races in recent weeks. Hoping to push that down to below 29:00 before the season is over.

I couldn't stay for the cookout that followed, but I saw some quirky signs on the ride out. Just down the road, the Grafton General Store was promoting soft serve cones for "100 cents," and in Danbury, I passed the Route 104 Auto Repair and Computer Service. Guess they still have to wear a lot of hats out in these parts, ayup.

Running 6.5 miles in Missouri: A trip back in time, sort of...

Poke around Nevada, Missouri, and you might think it's 1962. The largest employer in town is a big industrial plant where things are actually manufactured. The freight cars have no graffiti. And a big new Interstate highway is on the way!

All this reminded me of "Hilltown," the imaginary and somewhat idealized town that served as the setting of an elementary school textbook on personal hygiene, community service, and good citizenship.

Hilltown was made up, but Nevada was real. And that's what I thought about as I ran 6.5 miles, mostly in farmland beyond the city limits, early on Saturday, Sept. 29. Thus did Missouri become State #6 in my quest to run at least 10K in all 50. (By the way, it's pronounced "Ne-VAY-dah.")

Time? 1 hour, 23 minutes, starting at 7:15 a.m. Distance: yes, 6.5 miles, according to Google maps. Weather: temperatures in the 50s with a high broken overcast. The sun rose enough during the run to push me into a good sweat by the end.

We were staying in town to attend this year's annual Buster Keaton Celebration in Iola, Kansas, a town across the nearby border. Our hotel was run by an Indian family that did all its cooking on the premises, giving the place the unmistakeable ambiance of New Delhi.

My running route first took me east, underneath Route 71, which is about to be upgraded into something rare in this day and age: a brand-spanking-new Interstate highway! (In this case, Interstate 49.) Really -- the work in upgrading Route 71 to Interstate standards from Kansas City south to the Arkansas border is almost done, with even the signs in place and only lacking the actual numbers, which I read are supposed to go up this fall.

This whole "here comes the new Interstate" thing is something that must have been much more common a half-century ago, when the system was being built out at a rapid pace and significant new stretches were opening every construction season. Not so anymore -- except in Nevada, Missouri, which also happens to be devoid of any enclosed shopping malls or significant suburban shopping plazas. Coincidence?

I was taking a chance going out into the open countryside, but surprisingly, the roads and intersections were well marked. Once I hit Route 1800, I turned north and followed it to Nevada's Airport, where things were no busier than the open cropland I was otherwise surrounded by.

I then reached Route 54 (visible above, in the distance), which I took east back into town alongside the tracks of the Missouri Pacific Railroad, or so a map told me. I was surprised to see long lines of freight cars with absolutely no graffiti on them! You could even read all the reporting marks, which seem to be usually obscured by vandals. The oldest covered hopper car, for example, had been on the rails since February 1974.

When Route 54 turned west, I turned east, heading back to the hotel, but not before passing the massive 3M plant on the city's eastern side. This enormous facility, the largest area employer (610 are currently on the payroll) is refreshing in that things are actually made there, just like the factories on the edge of Hilltown.

Imagine that! But I didn't have to, as I saw it right before my eyes.

Next up: 10K or better in Fayetteville, Arkansas, where I'm madly typing this out now.

Running 10K in Colorado:A jog through the housing bubble

Some people boast of having visited all 50 states. (I'm three short: Arkansas, North Dakota, and Alaska.) But how many people have run at least 10K in all 50 states?

I have no idea, but if I finish this odd quest, I'll be one of them. And on Thursday, Sept. 6, I added another one: Colorado, bringing me to a grand total of five.

Why was I in Colorado? It was a one-day visit that's best described in another place. What I want to do here is describe the run, which had its unusual aspects. Turns out I ran straight through one of the epicenters of America's great housing bubble disaster stories, and I didn't even know it.

First, I was based in a Days Inn on Tower Road, an area of open prairie about 20 miles northeast of downtown Denver that's only seen development in the years since Denver's "new" airport opened in 1995. (I put "new" in quotes because how new is anything from 1995 anymore?)

The area is divided into large squares of criss-crossing boulevards, many not yet extant. Right now, the unfinished checkerboard delineates a surreal landscape of finished neighborhoods abutting open land. Sidewalks come and go, roads disappear into the scrub, and the area is dotted with pumping stations for several major oil and natural gas pipelines that run diagonally underneath it all.

It's weird: when a full neighborhood goes in over a pipeline, you can still follow the route because nothing can actually be built on top of it, which results in peculiar open spaces running diagonally through the otherwise orderly blocks—at least those that are finished.

The day was hot (low 90s) and bone dry, and I only had a few hours in the afternoon for my run, so I couldn't wait for cooler weather. Thankfully, high clouds moved in during the run, screening out the brightest sunshine and preventing me from burning to a crisp. Denver's altitude of 5,000 feet above sea level was also a factor to reckon with, both in terms of sun and also oxygen levels.

Checking maps online, I aimed for an area a few miles to the south called "Green Valley Ranch," a seemingly pleasant area to run. (Sidewalks, yay!) Starting at 72nd Ave., I hoped to get as far south as 40th Ave., and then come back in a loop.

Well, off I went, into a strange and unfinished world. One minute I'm on a newly built sidewalk complete with handicapped warning strips in the curb cuts. The next minute, I'm in open scrub land with nothing more than a broken beer bottle shards to keep me company. I got as far south as about 53rd Ave. when I felt I had to turn around, due to time and also the heat getting to me.

Coming back, I made the mistake of turning up a long boulevard that was a dead-end. No problem: I could see the hotel about a half-mile off across some open scrub land, without any evident barriers. So off I went, leaving the grid and freelancing through the empty land, picking my way through strange weeds and anthills and the occasional sign warning of yet another buried pipeline. Besidessome nettles getting stuck on (and in!) my running shoes, I made it across relatively unharmed.

But then I looked at Google's satellite photo of the area (copied above), and it turns out the open area I ran through had been excavated enough for a street pattern to be visible. Check it out: the dead-end road to the school is straight up-and-down on the right of the image. The hotel complex is in the upper left. The area that I ran across appears as a kind of eggplant color, and look at all the streets that are visible!

What happened? Well, the housing bubble burst is what happened, and this area of Denver was absolutely devastated. It was so bad, USA Today once featured a map of one corner of Green Valley Ranch showing how many properties had been foreclosed on between 2006 and 2008:

Red = foreclosed. Wow! On a few streets, it's practically every other property!

And that was certainly why the open area I crossed never got any further than some basic excavation perhaps a few years ago, just before the music stopped. I have to say, I had no sense that anything had been done to the land, so it's quickly returned to its natural state, at least to the naked eye at ground level.

But Google's satellite image of this area must be at least several years out of date (as of September 2012) as several areas I passed through have since been filled in. The photo, for example, shows a vacant lot in front of the Days Inn, but there's now a brand-spanking-new 7-Eleven convenience store. I used it to buy water, so it was not a mirage.

One thing I also saw that's not visible in the satellite photo is a jack rabbit who popped up in front of me near one of the hotels as I neared the end. He disappeared into a bush, and then I disappeared into the Days Inn, for a shower, a change of clothes, and the flight home. State No. 5 in the books: 6.3 miles (just barely over the minimum of 6.2 miles, or a 10K) in 1 hour and 15 minutes, although the heat made it feel longer.

Next up: Shooting for both Missouri and Arkansas during a five-day visit to these states at the end of the month. And then there's possibly Illinois the first weekend of October, when I'm in Chicago for a conference. We'll see. And Texas is somewhere there in October, as I'm flying to Dallas for business and there might be time for a run.

Saturday, Sept. 22: Marlborough, Town #138

Back before we had refrigerators, we had libraries. In the early days, some private libraries charged user fees. But if a town set up a library open to all residents, it was a "free" library, and often identified as such.

This explains the presence of the oddly named "Frost Free Library" in Marlborough, N.H., where I ran a 5K this morning in pretty much ideal conditions: cool but not cold, low overcast but dry, an occasional light breeze but not really any wind. (No frost, although I'm not sure the library had anything to do with that.)

All in all, not too shabby for the first day of fall (today at 10:49 a.m.), and for Town #138 in my quest to run in all of New Hampshire's cities, towns, and unincorporated places.

Marlborough was something of a milestone, too, as it completes the set of seven Granite State communities in which I've lived. (Nashua, Claremont, Keene, Marlborough, Milford, Manchester, and Bedford.) As of today, I've run a road race in all of them. I've also run a race in more than half of the Granite State's "cigarette" communities: besides Marlborough, I've done Salem and Newport. Still need Winchester and Chesterfield, however.

Time? A fairly acceptable 31:40, not bad considering the up-and-down nature of the course and relative lack of steady running in recent months. (The picturesque cemeteries we passed were a reminder.) Pace was 10:12, and I came in 59 out of 94 finishers.

On hand for Town #138 were Dave and Patsy Beffa, friends from Nelson, N.H. I worked with Dave at PC Connection some years back, and we were all part of a 10-day trek to Annapurna Base Camp (Elevation 13,500 feet) in Nepal in 2011.

I usually run by myself, and I've never quite understood how people can hold conversations while running. How do you manage your breathing and pacing? But I found while running alongside David, my inability to keep my mouth shut revealed an upside to it: the adrenaline that comes from interacting with people while you're on the course seems to push you through that, or at least it did with Dave.

Best line of the run was me to Dave about mid-day through: "My problem is that I only really kick in after Mile 4 or so."

Well, that's the best I could do. Perhaps I should check out a good joke book from the Frost Free Library.

Great Minds Department: After eating two apples on the way up here, I find the post-race snack supply to consist solely of—apples! All I can say is, thank God for the Peterborough Diner on the way home!

Updating things for September: Running, biking, trying to stay sane

I have a new motivation for pursuing fitness activities. With my mother in and out of the hospital, and plenty of other uncertainties, lately it's the one thing that keeps me sane. Really. I find that nothing helps put everything in perspective like a long run or a very long bike ride. For a day or two afterwards, I have unlimited patience. Nothing seems to get to me.

We all respond to stress in various ways. I have a tendency toward compulsive eating when under stress, a very unfortunate habit. I recall that during the first Gulf War, White House Press Secretary Marlin Fitzwater put on a lot of weight, in part because of the stress. I'm not fighting the Gulf War, but the personal stakes are just as high, and I can't let bad habits take over.

So, into September we go, with me trying to stay active outdoors while the days are still long enough and before the weather turns. And the first thing to point out is that what's good for me is good for our three dogs. They all need exercise, and that alone ought to be enough to keep me busy. I run with them, but could do it more regularly. And so I'll try.

The bike is turning into the big story of 2012. I've already biked the Kanc, done an 88-mile trek to Harrisville, and rode to the seacoast for fried clams. The one big one left for this season, I think, is a White Mountains loop. I was going to do it today (Sunday, Sept. 9) but I've gotten a late start and too much to do at home base. So today it's running with dogs and maybe a two-hour New Boston bike loop to finish out the day. I'll hope ffor

Running isn't being forgotten, either, although I've missed a few town races in the past month and total has been stagnant since the triathlon in Surry, N.H., and that was back in July, f'chrissakes. Well, a clutch of a half-dozen towns beckon for this fall, including a half-marathon in Manchester, N.H., so that's something to look forward to.

And I've made progress on the "running in 50 states" project as well. On Thursday, Sept. 6, I squeezed in a 10K run through the prairie suburbs of Denver during a whirlwind one-day visit, thus adding Colorado to the list. And later this month, I could potentially pick up two more during a visit to Missouri/Kansas/Arkansas/Oklahoma. I already have Kansas, so realistically it's Missouri and then Arkansas.

Looking ahead to colder weather, I still have a gym membership at Planet Fitness on Manchester's West Side, and I also need to find a place to start swimming regularly so I can seriously participate in more triathlons next year. We'll see. In the meantime, I do need to keep activity to keep my sanity.