I rode 150 Stinking Miles!

The MS Ride (for Multiple Sclerosis) has been going on for many years. They call it the “Jack and Back” here in Tennessee because you cycle from Nashville to the Jack Daniels Distillery in Lynchburg TN. There is a 50 mile route to Lynchburg and a 75 mile route to Lynchburg…. Which one do you think I chose?

One of the things I love best about these events is that there is no one shape, age or body type, all are represented. It is inspiring how everyone with 2 wheels (sometimes three) come out to participate and support the Cause. My Team was put together by my friend/client Greg Luken who owns Luken wealth management and ponied up for our sweet Jerseys which had an overwhelming response to the “cool-factor” on the course. A plethora of people asked what LUKEN was, and eventually we had to ask Greg to coach us through his elevator speech so we could properly respond other than “er, ummm, well,…”

I’ve cycled around Middle Tennessee for a long time now, and those Country Music singers ain’t lying when they talk about those Hills of Tennessee. I know most of the big climbs, but after a few counties, I got to see some whole new ones. What was even better was that we had two guys from Houston TX with our group and they hadn’t a hill bigger than a mole-hill before. One of the hills of legend around here is one we call Pull-Tight Hill. It’s about a half mile long and straight up, and the view at the top is magnificent. One of the TX riders had owned his bike for years and never even changed gears into his small ring. (For Non-riders: a small ring is used for hill climbing, a big ring is used for flat courses and speed). Just out of principle, he wasn’t willing to change into his small ring, which made it a really hard climb, but he still did it! There were a few other hills like that closer to Lynchburg that I had never ridden before, and I did my best to resist the urge to speed up them because I had another full day or riding ahead of me.

Starting out, it was cold, about 45 degrees. That doesn’t sound bad, but when you start riding your bike, the wind drops the temperature drops 10 degrees. I’m usually okay in that weather as long as I can keep my hands and feet warm. If my hands get cold, it just hurts so much. Luckily I planned that part out and it made for a good ride, and as it warmed up we all started shedding layers and getting creative on how to carry our jackets and cold weather gear with us to the finish.

The people who put on the event did such a great job with rest stops every 10-12 miles with food, drinks and more food. They had bike repair tents, massage tents, social gathering areas, music and lots of cheering for the riders. It made it so fun. They had volunteers and police at every corner and intersection telling us directions for 75 miles! They had trucks and cars all over the course in case of emergencies and bike breakdowns. TX-Mike (as we will call him) got a flat tire around mile 35. We had all the gear with us to fix it, but still there were people around for support. Thing was, he had gotten 2 flat tires on that same tire last week. Something was up, but we changed it and moved on.

The beautiful ride which ended at Motlow College, just a few minutes from the Jack Daniels Distillery was the final resting place for the evening. Most camp out in tents on the campus, or sleep on blow-up mattresses in the gymnasium, but we really roughed it! We hopped in Greg’s king cap truck and drove to his lake house 20 minutes away on Tim’s Ford Lake….it was really rough sitting in his warm house picking which football game to watch, it was really rough staying awake as I sat outside on the deck listen to the water lapping on the lake, and it was really rough taking my pick of which pillow top bed to sleep on.

In the morning we got our bikes and I didn’t anticipate the cold! 36 Degrees. It was cold enough to frost the grass around us, and being the only one in biking shorts getting ready to ride I was beginning to rethink my choices. But TX-Mike came through with an extra pair of cycling tights and it was a life saver. He is 6’2” and I am 5’9” and I had them pulled up to my chest, but they did the trick and kept me warm the whole ride.

The route took us a different way back to Nashville and somehow no matter which way we rode the wind stayed in our face the whole ride. The wind was relentless. There was a point I was traveling downhill and had to pedal quickly and was still slowing down! Normally the downhill is a rest time when I can coast, drink, eat and pick up some speed and here I was slowing down because of the darn wind. My face was wind burned and I was traveling on average about 4mph slower than usual. Sheesh.

While at a rest stop sipping on hot chocolate to warm up, our bikes were sitting with about 50 other bikes and we heard what sounded like a gunshot go off. If you’ve been around biking enough, you know that is the sound of a tire blowing. After many of us (afraid to look) held our breath as we looked over our bike tires…sure enough, TX-Mike’s same tire had blow again. And after calling around to all the bike support vans, cars and trucks, there was only 1 bike tire left on 75 miles of the course. We played the - “Mike drove all the way from Houston TX to do this ride” – card…. And they gave him the tire to finish the ride.

Despite the wind and the cold, the weather was perfect blue skies all day and we worked as a Team to finish the ride together. Yes, our legs were tired, our rear-ends were tired, and we all felt pretty worn, there is no better energy than pulling into the finish area with the crowd clapping. They were waving and telling us “THANK YOU!!” for helping to support The Cause to Cure MS. But honestly, we felt thankful to them for giving us perspective and inspiration. We thank them for their strength and attitude to take advantage of each day and live each moment to the fullest. I, in no way, can compare the struggle of a 150 mile bike ride to the struggles of MS. However, if someone with MS can stay positive and hopeful for a cure as they deal with their day-to-day issues, I can draw inspiration from their courage and continue to do my very best in all I do.

Here is how I felt at the end of the ride:

Here is also how I felt at the end of the ride:

You can still donate to my fundraising by CLICKING HERE.

Eating Pavement and Pigs in Lexington

There are many beautiful places in this US of A, and I think that Lexington, KY is right up there. When the wife, of one of my best childhood friends, suggested that he and I meet in Lexington for a bike ride I jumped at the chance. I knew about it for months before he did, but she kept it as a surprise for his birthday and she hit a homerun. Zach has been an avid endurance cyclist for years and is also the one who rode 140.6 miles (on his trainer!!) at the same time I was completing 140.6 miles at Ironman Florida last November. Yet, he had never entered a cycling event and this was to be his first and I was going to do my best to make it as memorable as possible.

It all started a few days before the event when he contacted me telling me his bike frame had cracked and he was scrambling to find a bike. Long story short, he bought a brand new bike that was a day late being ready and the first time he ever saw the bike was when they were strapping it to his car on his way out of town to meet me! “Nothing New on Race Day” philosophy was out the window. When he arrived at our hotel in Lexington we rode around the parking lot in the dark adjusting his seat and handle bars to the correct height and decided it would do okay. We also kept hearing a “click” every so often, but it was too dark to decipher what the sound was. I told him that sometimes the chains on new bikes are noisy and moody, and it should be fine.

The morning before the event was beautiful. Perfect weather, perfect temperature and a good crowd was gathering on the campus of Georgetown College in Georgetown, KY. The event was very well run and organized I would go back and do it again in a minute. The crowd was friendly and talkative, and Zach and I loved looking at all the bikes…. No two were alike. Before long we were off in our pack of about 1000+. We hadn’t yet decided whether we were going to complete the 50 or 75 mile route, and decision time was at mile 39. Since the rainy weather in both Ohio and Tennessee for the last few weeks had prevented us from training properly for this ride, we decided we would make a game-time decision at mile 39.

I helped with that decision process at mile 11 when coming down a small little decline there was a slight bend in the road. At the bend was a gravel driveway where some of the gravel had made its way out onto the road. I thought I had safely avoided the gravel, however, my rear tire caught it and I began to slide. While I was able to upright myself with luck, I up righted myself right into a grassy ditch with a row of trees and roots and fence in the ditch. As my tires became wet in the grass my breaks stopped working as I pumped on them and finally my shoulder caught a tree and sent me straight off my bike.

This all happened within about 1 second. The thoughts that can go through your mind during this brief encounter are almost infinite. I thought, “This is how people break their collarbone; I’ve never had a broken bone; I’ve always thought I was indestructible; I wasn’t even screwing off this time; I just hope I don’t get hit in the face; Is anyone watching?; Oh man, I may get out of this if I can just get out of this ditch…”

As I was on the ground in the ditch, peeling myself out from under my bike, surprisingly I felt completely fine. I was bloody and got a Charlie horse from hitting my calf muscle, but I popped right up. As people came running up to me to see if I was okay, I was already cracking jokes like “Who put the tree in the middle of the road?” And “I’m ok really… I broke my fall with my arm.” That helped to ease all the concerned faces around, and Zach and I hopped on our bikes and rode off again. My scars and bloody shoulder made for good conversation as we passed cyclists all day. Even a day later as I write this it doesn’t look as gnarly as before.

Only a few miles later as we were headed up a big climb I was feeling good and rode ahead because I had some momentum and at the top of the hill I just pedaled softly waiting for my companion to which he never showed. I stopped, waited, waited, waited and knew it had been too long, something had happened. I rode back a short way and sure enough there was Zach and two gentleman standing on the side of the road with Zach’s broken chain in hand! As I tried to decipher their broken English, I used my principles of detection (reading “FRANCE” their cycle jersey) to make conversation about the Tour de France and other such things while the mechanic pulled cycle tools I had never seen before out of his bag. After a while of road-side maintenance the chain was fixed! We thanked them profusely and offered them a Pint as a thank you. They just told us to pay-it-forward, and we were all on our way again.

By this time, we were toward the back of the pack and with the real party. No pace lines, no hammerheads, just cycling for the joy of cycling and taking in the beautiful countryside. I loved it. We took extra time at the aid stations, and met the locals and called it a day at 50 miles. We joked it was longest 50 miles of our life (took over 4 hours to complete), but it was so enjoyable. And we smelled roasted pig as we rolled in, and it called us home.

As we sat down in our sweaty spandex to a fully catered, top-notch dinner on the lawn of Georgetown Campus, we knew we’d be back. It could have been the waiters in white Oxford button-downs and black pants serving us sweet deliciousness, or it could have been the amazing volunteers who went out of their way to help, or it could have been the whole Horsey Hundred experience.

Do this ride, you won’t regret it.

Marathon Monday - The Boston Marathon

I'm not easily suckered, or so I'd like to think. I found a marathon training plan that both scared and intrigued me and looked like it just might work. It was endorsed and "used" by many of the professional marathon runners and coaches.... just like LeBron James "uses" Icy Hot and "eats" McDonald's to make him play so well. While the endorsements were a turn off, I did respect the coach who put it together, and I stuck it in my  hip pocket for future use.

The movie that inspired a movement, or at least gave it a name, was The Bucket List...things to do before you kick-the-bucket. I've always been a goal oriented person and have set many goals to complete in each area of my life. On the fitness side, when I turned 30 years old I set 5 races to complete before I kick-the-bucket thinking they would take many years to complete, The Boston Marathon being one of them. After completing Ironman last November (4th event of the 5) I was ready to take a break after having had the most wonderful experience and was ready to bask aftermath of training and my new found fitness. I was also ready for a financial break from these races as well. The life experience and insights into myself I gained were priceless, but that doesn't mean they weren't pricey.

Along came my same friend who opened up a New York Marathon spot for me (2nd event of the 5) and offered me a spot in The Boston Marathon. While many who run Boston qualify with a blazing fast time for their age group, there are many spots given to charities and sponsors, and that's how I was going to get in the race. While I'm no slouch at running, I wasn't yet at a place in my life to totally sacrifice my family, business and everything else to reach the 3:05 qualifying time needed for my age. I was happy to take the wonderful gift, however there was a caveat, you start in the back. I was ok with it, and I started in on the new training plan to get me ready.

Meeting many wonderful and crazy-fit people at our hotel and in the line for the bus marathon morning, there were many experienced runners around and there wasn't the usual nervous energy race morning. There was an intensity in the air from all the type-A personalities, but it was calm and positive. Eventually I left Athelete's Village and was in my corral.... in the last wave, in the last corral. Before our gun went off, at one point I looked behind me and there was nobody! 27000 people and I was starting dead last. The great part about that was I was with all the charity runners. Team In Training, Hole in the Wall, American Cancer Society, Boston Children's Home and many many others. It reminded to be thankful for the ability to even be able to run and enjoy what I love.

As we all began to run I already began to feel the weight of the masses and starting in the back. Many slower runners, and runners dressed as Elvis and wearing skirts and flags, etc, etc. While I know and love this aspect of big races, this time I wanted to see what I could potentially run. Spending much of the first three miles weaving back and forth on the road finding gaps and stopping short and speeding up I knew I was spending a lot of extra energy. Then I noticed a gentleman just easily cruising along on the berm with about my same speed. I worked over towards him and together on the outside of the madness we passed 1000's. He was from Denmark (so said his jersey) and he spoke no English and it was pretty nice run with somebody and have no obligation to talk in the moment. He eventually stopped at a water stop and I kept going and now the crowd had thinned a little bit.

I was able to hit my pace and was feeling very good by mile 8. I had made up for lost time and was on track to hit my goal time! What kept playing in my head was this new training plan, in which you only run up to 16 miles and no further. There was a lot of weekly mileage however no 20 mile runs, no 3 hour runs, just 16 miles. Though I followed the plan to the letter, I was very curious to see what happened after mile 16.

The streets were lined with people the entire race and lots of polite applause and witty remarks and funny and inspirational signs. However nearing the Half Marathon mark I hear high pitched screaming. As I crested a slight hill I saw the streets on either side packed with the Wellesly Girls College (all of them I believe)! They were all screaming so loud and jumping up and down holding signs that said "Kiss Me I'm going to be a Chemist" or "Kiss Me! I'm going to be Meteorologist," or "Kiss Me and Run Faster!". While it was a fun spectacle to see I kept to the middle of the road as to not get caught up and slowed by the eagerness of others taking them up on the offer.

Easily crossing the Half Marathon mark and blowing through the 16 mile mark the next landmark was Christie who was supposed to be waiting to see me at mile 18. I starting looking for her green jacket at mile 17, but the problem was that all the volunteer jackets were the same color green. I spent the next 3 miles looking for green jackets and just when I had given up on seeing her in the masses of people, there she was at mile 20. After a quick hello I ran on to look for the infamous Heartbreak Hill which I had read was at mile 21.5.

I was keeping a pretty good clip when a lady passed me just blazing it and I sped up and ran with her and complimented her on her pace. And she told me she wanted to crush heartbreak hill. I responded that I couldn't wait to tackle it as well. She looked over at me and said, "Honey, this is it, we're almost done, there's the top!" Then I looked down and saw chalk drawings of hearts with cracks and saw a guy pounding a drum at the top of the "hill" to simulate the "Heart beat." I guess running in Middle Tennessee has redefined my expectations of hills. I thought to myself, if this is as tough as it gets, I've got it!

I've said it before and it still holds true, the greatest part of a Marathon is not when you finish but when you realize you're going to finish. That happened to me at mile 24. My legs were tired, but so is everyone else's. My quads were sore, but I could tell they weren't going to cramp. I saw the famous Citgo Sign meaning there was 1 mile left, and after taking inventory of my body, I felt pretty darn good! I took off because This Is Boston! The coveted Boston Marathon where people strive and claw and strain themselves to even get the opportunity to pin on a Boston bib. I wanted to leave with no regrets.

The last part of the course was winding until I finally turned the corner to see the finish line and I gave it all I had even though a new personal best time was in the bag. Now, at that point my "all out" may not have looked like much, but I was wide open, and when I crossed the finish line I was so glad it was over, not because I wanted to quit, but I was so happy that I could say I gave it my all at The Boston Marathon.

My First Triathlon

In my First Triathlon I ever competed in (2001), I only entered because my friend and I thought that 3 sports in 1 day sounded pretty fun. I’d done some Marathons and Half Marathons and went into this challenge with a little bit of swagger.  Knew I could run, and had been practicing swimming and biking on a bike I had bought at a garage sale for $75, needless to say… you get what you pay for. I swear this bike weighed 30 pounds; a literal Mack Truck compared to my 15 pound all carbon bike I ride today (worth more than $75).

The evening before and the morning of the race, I treated the sprint distance triathlon like I would a Marathon. I carb-loaded on pasta and bread and rice the evening before and stuffed my face with more carbs like Danishes, cereal, bagels and more Danishes at the continental breakfast the morning of. I probably consumed 2000 calories that morning for a race that might burn 500.

The swim was 400 meters, the bike was 15 miles and the run was 3 miles. I survived the swim and the bike ok and now it was time to run, I could show these grasshoppers what an 18 minute 5K looked like. I took off out of transition looking like a champ, passing 70 year old women and 12 year old boys like they were standing still. Yes, they were beating me up until that point, but triathlon is won on the run, right? That’s when I began to feel the twinge in my legs, calves, hips and butt.

I was no stranger to the cramping that my body can deliver on a long run, but I figured this was a shorter distance and I should have been just fine. But soon my right leg wouldn’t bend and I was running straight legged until my butt muscles stopped working and I came to a standing halt. I couldn’t move. I was standing in the middle of the race course and couldn’t lift my legs to step forward, backwards or to the side. I was stuck. That’s when 70 year old women and 12 year old boys starting passing me like I was standing still.

Finally a volunteer boy scout in his red kerchief came over to see if I was okay, and I used his shoulder to get a move on again, and I was able to hobble straight legged for the last mile of the race to the finish line. After that I continued to cramp in such prestigious races as the New York Marathon, California Half Ironman, Arizona Marathon, Nashville Triathlon and other such notable events.

I have since become a smarter runner, triathlete and Coach. One of the ways was using Sport Nutritionist Mari-Etta Parrish who has all but rid me of such issues and my training has dramatically improved. Not only did she give me the wisdom and knowledge to help me train and complete my first Full Ironman cramp free and nail my goal time, but was I eating 5000 calories a day to prepare and still lost 14 pounds in the process. (I thought I didn’t have much more to lose).  Nutrition is the master key to unlock our human potential.

7 miles in the snow

The Weather Team in Nashville can be hit and miss on their predictions, but they nailed this one. After a warm beautiful morning, we got dumped on with Snow on this Wednesday afternoon. 

By late afternoon all my evening appointments had cancelled, and when I looked out my studio window the business park was a parking lot. The streets were bumper to bumper with cars not moving. That when a stroke of multitask genius hit me. I could get in my daily training run AND arrive home much faster than I could drive.

Because I'm a total run geek, I had some cold weather running gear with me, and without hesitation I was dressed and out the door. I know I thrive on the adversity. Last week's 14 miler in the driving rain and today's 7 miler in the snow is going to have me more than ready for my next race, Boston this April.

- now I know you're thinking, "I've seen Christopher run before, and how on Earth did he get a Boston slot?" I got in because I have no shame, and asked a friend who knows a guy, who's dentist fixed a crown on a guy who knows somebody who could get me a slot. Yes, it's that easy. -

Starting my run in the snow I felt fast as I flew past all the cars at a stand still. It was cool to be the first footprints in the freshly fallen snow. It wasn't till I was about 3 miles in that I came upon another set of footprints. It looked to be another runner, with small feet probably a female.  And judging by the even trajectory of the snow particles around the footprint she looked to be a mid-sole striker... Very impressive. I soon saw a second pair of footprints as I entered a new city block, but they eventually turned in toward the liquor store. (Not a terrible idea.)

This hilly run home is no easy walk in the park. There are 5 huge hills, and these aren't your grandma's hills. These are the Tennessee hills that country music songs are about. As you can imagine, there were many-a-car having troubles getting up the hills and sliding all over the place. It was so nice for my health, strength and endurance to help so many people push their cars up the hills and out of ditches.

A trainer at my gym said it took him 3 hrs to drive 8 miles home. I don't know how long it took me, but I wasn't running for time and it didn't take me anywhere near 3 hrs. I've learned I love to run when there is no watch involved. I just run. I like that I ran for practicality and got to help people as well. Maybe now I can justify all the money I spend on shoes, bikes, coaches, gear and races because I made it home in time for dinner.