Jesse Owens Memorial Park

Ever since I became a more serious runner (all things relative, people) I've taken an interest in the sport and our community as a whole. I'll never be one to spout significant names, dates and times off the cuff, but I do enjoy learning about the history of running and the present day ongoings. The legend of Phidippides, Steve Prefontaine in Munich, the Duel in the Sun, the Wanamaker Mile - these are some of the things I've studied up on that provide a foundation for what I do, as well as inspiration to do more. So, when on a recent road trip I had the opportunity to visit the Jesse Owens Memorial Park in Oakville, AL, I knew I had to make time.

Plaque at the base of
the replica 1936 Olympic
torch. Click to enlarge.

Before going I did some homework by reading over the museum's web site. Chock full of information, I found it to be an excellent resource. Like most people, I knew Jesse Owens was one of our country's greatest Olympians. I was also aware he had won four gold medals at the 1936 Olympics and consequently embarrassed Adolph Hiltler. But but beyond this I was pretty ignorant. After only a few minutes on the site I found out about his humble upbringing and how blessed he was to survive the first six years of his life. I also learned how dominant an athlete he was in college. With so much information available online I resolved to find something during my visit that could only be obtained by going there.

I turned into the park and drove past the small visitor's center up a long drive to the museum. As I approached the doors I was disappointed to see it was closed. Though the posted hours suggested it should have been open a couple of hours by then, the lights were out and the doors were locked. I figured I would at least make the best of things and look around the exterior, but before I could get around the corner a car pulled up and a woman got out. She welcomed me to the museum and then proceeded to open it up just for me. Tony, I quickly learned, was a helpful and friendly tour guide extraordinaire, answering any question I could put to her and volunteering information not readily or otherwise available through the displays.

Replica Owens' family home.

After she turned on all the lights I was invited in and able to walk around the museum. The first thing I found that surprised me was that Jesse seemed to reach his athletic stride early in life. He was still in high school in 1933 when he tied the world record for the 100-yard dash in 9.4 seconds. Two years later at Ohio State University the Buckeye Bullet, as he was known, accomplished the exact same feat at the Big Ten meet in Ann Arbor, Michigan. I wondered if he ran faster in the Olympics, but learned that distance wasn't raced internationally. Instead, he competed in the 100-meter sprint, making it difficult to draw comparisons.

As I continued my tour I took in some of the displays which contained various memorabilia. There were replicas of the Adidas track shoes and outfit he wore at the Olympics, as well as donated items, such as daily programs and pins. I noted there weren't any of the medals he earned on display, and asked Tony if I'd missed them. "No," she said. "They were stolen. Turned up missing in 1962." How disappointing.

Long Jump Pit

After watching a couple of short films I asked Tony if I could exit through the side doors to the attractions outside. Rather than turn me loose she unlocked the doors and proceeded to show me around, offering up tidbits of information you can only obtain in person. She took me out to the replica of the Owens' home, which I could hardly believe housed 12 people. We also went by the long jump pit (she'd never seen anyone jump farther than 16') and the replica Olympic torch, which is lit only on special occasions. The final stop was the centerpiece of the park, an inspirational bronze statue that portrays Jesse breaking through the Olympic rings. A symbolic and fitting representation of the many barriers he broke during his lifetime.

Jesse Owens Bronze Statue

Before I left Tony imparted one last item of knowledge that surprised me a bit. This memorial park and museum, located in the small town where he lived until just the age of nine, is the only one of its kind. That there isn't a similar tribute in Cleveland, where in high school he got his track and field start and tied two world records, seems strange.  And that there is no learning center at Ohio State University, where he won a record eight individual NCAA championships and broke three world records, I find baffling. So, if you want to see for yourself why Jesse Owens was and is one of the greatest athletes of all time, you're going to have to travel Alabama. It's worth the trip and I recommend it.

50k - An Outsider's Perspective

The Race to the Top of Alabama

I'd planned on writing a quick note on dailymile describing my spectating experience at the Mount Cheaha 50k. Maybe throw up a couple of pictures and call it a day. But after what I saw today I knew it warranted a full-blown blog post extravaganza.

I'd been tossing around the idea of driving up to Cheaha ever since I met up with Mark for a run this past Monday. I wasn't certain I'd be able to make it, so I didn't mention it to him or Andy, who I also knew would be racing. I had two motivations for wanting to go. First, both of them had gone out of their way to accommodate me in the past. Great guys that they are, I wanted to return the gesture by supporting them in their endeavor. Second, now that I'm not as terrified of the longer distances I wanted to see what all the ultra fuss was about.

Before I left I tried to figure out approximately when Mark and Andy might finish. I looked at last year's results and noticed the winner crossed the line in around four hours. I couldn't put much stock in that though, considering the second place finisher was over 35 minutes behind him. And scanning down the rest of the list of finishers didn't help either. It looked like every participant finished five minutes apart, with some taking over nine hours. Yikes! Nevertheless, I knew they were starting at 7:30am so I should get there no later than 12:00pm - 12:30pm if I was going to catch them on the course.

On my drive up to the Delta, AL I got a little romantic about the race. It's only 50k, right? That's what - about 4 miles longer than a marathon? Heck, I can do that. It's beautiful up here. Nice, rolling hills. Clear, blue sky. Moderate temps. Hey, maybe I could do this next year! It's like a baby ultra! Oh, how naive I was.

(Credit: CC Johnny Stiletto/Flickr)

I arrived a little before noon and made my way to the sixth and final aide station. Just as I got there a runner was coming in and I was informed he was the leader. Figuring the guys would be a while, I drove a little more than a mile down the course on a dirt road until I reached an intersection at about the 43k mark. I grabbed my binoculars and sat off to the side of the road looking down a very long hill. And waited.

As the trickle of runners slowly passed me I encouraged them as best I could. I noticed that aside from the lead 10-15 runners almost everyone was run-walking. Some would run until they got to the hill and then walk, while others walked on the flat and then tried to run up the hill. And almost all of them were alone. Every once in a while a couple would be running together, but that was the exception. This is one lonely event, I thought.

On the plus side, however, almost everyone was in good spirits. Many were hurting, but I could see that beacon of hope when I told them how close they were to the last aide station. I made a conscious effort not to tell them they were "almost there." Better to give them something specific to focus on rather than a cliché.

I sat there for almost three hours looking for numbers 184 and 60. People of all shapes and sizes kept coming, but none of them were Mark or Andy. And though I was anxiously awaiting their arrival, I didn't mind a bit. It was inspiring to see so many people persevering, and a lot of fun giving back to the community I've appreciated so many times when I've been the one racing.

Suddenly, a guy passed me that looked familiar. I took a chance and called out his name, and sure enough it was Mike! I jumped up and started walking with him to see how he was doing. I had no idea he was racing, so it was quite a surprise. He told me a little bit about how his race was going and filled me in on Mark and Andy's progress. He guessed how far back they might be and told me what they were wearing. After about a half mile I wished him luck and headed back to the intersection.

Around 20 minutes later I spied Mark's orange shirt and hollered at him as loud as I could. I began walking with him and noticed he was in obvious pain. Come to find out he was cramping from dehydration. Despite this he was walking at a pretty fast clip, and in the time I spent with him he passed a few others. I left him with an older gentleman he'd been trading leads with throughout the race and headed back for Andy.

It was only couple of minutes after I got back to the intersection when I saw Andy and his red Alabama shirt. And he was the first person I'd seen in over an hour that was actually running up the hill. Even though his feet were giving him trouble I could tell he was running strong, and he never once broke stride. I told him at the rate he was going he'd catch up to Mark, and sure enough he eventually did.

I ran back to my car and made my way to the top of the mountain. Alabama's highest point at 2,407'. As soon as I got there I saw Mike coming towards the finish line! I didn't have time to pull out my phone to take a photo, so I gave him a high five instead. Dang!

Andy Making it Look Easy. And Fun!

I figured Andy or Mark would be along in about a half hour, so I found a place in the shade to wait. I'd been there a few minutes when a couple came up to me and the gentleman asked me where I was from. I told him Prattville, but that I was actually there waiting for one friend from Tuscaloosa and another from Columbus, GA. That's funny, he said. His son was from Columbus and was running with a fellow from Tuscaloosa! Very nice to meet you, Mr. and Mrs. Sparks!

Eventually Andy came into sight, looking strong and still running at the same steady pace as when I last saw him. This time I was ready to snap a picture! His parents followed him up the last hill to the chute as I continued to wait for Mark.

Mark Finding a Way to Get it Done!

A few more minutes passed by and Andy made his way back down to me. He said he wasn't sure Mark was going to be able to make it, and told me how he'd come across him sitting down on Blue Hell, a half-mile climb of 900' straight up. His legs had cramped so badly that he could no longer walk, even after Andy tried massaging the lactic acid out of them. We were discussing what his options might be when I saw him rounding the last corner. Woot! Knowing he was almost home he broke into a slog and crossed the line strong!

Thanks to these guys and the other participants of the Cheaha 50k I learned a lot today. First and foremost is that there's no such thing as an easy ultra. Especially when climbing to the top of Alabama on very technical terrain. If I ever decide to run one of these it will first have to be on a more modest course. I also learned that the ultra crowd is a unique breed. Maybe I haven't "watched" enough races of shorter distances, but this group appeared to have more grit and determination than I've ever seen before. When almost everyone is struggling with 7k to go, yet still finds the strength and determination to finish out, it's freakin' impressive.

Victorious!

So, if you were on Mount Cheaha today kudos to you! You guys and gals rock! And a special thanks to Andy, Mark and Mike. Each of you showed me a lot today, and it was a privilege to watch you complete such a tough race.

BTW, if you want to gain an appreciation for just how difficult the course is check out this race report by Christian of Run 100 Miles. He does a great job of making you feel his pain.

Blogroll - Expand Your Horizons

Just about every blogger has a "Blogroll" posted somewhere on their site. I have to confess that I don't normally pay much attention to what's listed on others' sites. I mean really, take a look at mine. I have 13 blogs linked from my site and I have a difficult enough time already keeping up with those. Where the heck am I going to find time to add to that list?

Last night as I was winding down from a long day I was reading Greg's Predawn Runner blog. He's a passionate guy that does a great job of articulating his experiences, so much so that I don't notice how lengthy his posts can sometimes get. After finishing his May 26th entry, Tripped-Out Running - San Diego Style, I happened to glance over and saw his blogroll. His post was so long that I was far enough down the page to see it! :) The title "My Brother, The Thief" caught my attention, so I absent mindedly clicked on it.

I spent the next 5-10 minutes learning about about pastor and runner, Brian Vinson. I won't go into detail, but I enjoyed reading about his "running history" and found it interesting that our running abilities and experiences seem to parallel a bit. In short, it was time well spent.

I got to thinking that if not for Greg's blogroll I may never have learned about Brian. Sometimes it feels like the online running community is very small. We post on Twitter and Daily Mile each day, but we end up interacting with a fairly small subset of people. There's nothing inherently wrong with that -- it's just a fact that our free time and attention spans are finite.

I've been getting some good-natured ribbing about my I Challenge You post from a couple of weeks ago. Well, I'm here to do it again! I pledge to go out of my way once every few weeks and try to find a blog that I haven't read before. To continue to expand my horizons. I challenge you to do the same. :)

I Challenge You

Once or twice a week I'll post a recovery run on DailyMile and it's automatically repeated to Twitter and Facebook. The pace is usually somewhere around 8:30/minutes per mile, which is comfortable for me. On occasion I'll get comments from other runners about how that would be "a great non-recovery run pace" for them or how they wish they could do that. I see similar reactions to other runners' "slow" posts, as well. And I nod my head. Because once upon a time I wished the same things.

Yesterday afternoon I chatted with a friend and new runner, Heather. We discussed past and future races, and eventually the subject turned to me running my first marathon this fall. [This is happening too frequently for my running friends by now, I imagine.] I mentioned my goal was to qualify for the Boston Marathon, and that I needed to come up with about 10 minutes somewhere. She wasn't following me, so I explained how, based on projected times, I should right now be able to run a marathon in around 3 hours 30 minutes. To qualify in my age group, however, I need a time of 3 hours 20 minutes 59 seconds. This, to me, is a huge amount of time I need to shave off, especially when you consider I have never run a marathon before. There are so many unknown factors.

So, yes, this is a lofty goal. But what makes me think I can achieve it?

Today I think I'm probably in the best shape of my life. Ever. I'm lean (skinny most would say), very fit and have run some races of late I never thought were possible. I can't possibly improve any more, I've thought to myself more than once. And as I was standing there talking to Heather it hit me.

I returned to running about three years ago. I started out with the typical Monday/Wednesday/Friday schedule and ran a local 5k here and there. When I began my finishing times were around 27-28 minutes, and after two years I plateaued in the low 24s. But I worked hard for those improved times. I dropped 20 pounds and was feeling pretty good. I thought I was in the best shape of my life.

My goal during those two years was to run a 5k in  23:50, which was the best I ever did in high school cross country. But over and over I just couldn't manage it. I had almost resigned myself to never being able to do it, when the editor of our running club newsletter, Kym, found out and joked that she wouldn't publish my race times until I broke 24 minutes. That stirred something in me.

Not long after that Kym and I started training together and I slowly transformed into what I am today. You can read a short summary here. Since that time I have achieved more than I ever knew was possible. I blew right through that 24-minute 5k mark and am now in the low 20s! I reached my goal at the Mercedes Half Marathon, finishing in 1 hour 40 minutes! I ran a 10k in under 45 minutes! Does part of me wonder if I can possibly improve any more? Of course. But if the past year has taught me nothing else, it is to never sell myself short again.

So what does this have to do with those that "wish they could?" Everything. Short of injury or illness you owe it to yourself to try. I Challenge You to set a goal for yourself you never thought possible. Does it have to be something bat-shit crazy, like attempting to qualify for Boston on your first attempt? No. :) But reach for something you haven't considered possible before. Maybe you think you can't beat that person that always seems to finish before you in local races? Maybe you think you can't best a PR you set years ago? Whatever it is, Challenge Yourself. Make the commitment, put forth the required effort and give it your best shot. Regardless of the outcome you'll be glad you did. This I can attest to.