“Can I not do this?”  I kept asking myself this question.  I was up, fed, dressed, in the car and heading to the trail head.  “I really would like permission to not do this today”.  And yet, I kept driving.  I arrived, kicked off my moccasins, tied my trainers, hit the malodorous porta lou one more time, and again asked the question. 

How often have you negotiated with yourself about an upcoming workout, session, long run or cross training day?  Oh the warmth of the bed, the busy-ness of the day, the tweak in the calf, the low motivation of the psyche, or even the ‘I just don’t wanna’. 

There’s an axiom in the sales world that states ‘plan your work and work your plan’.  It is basically the same in the running world, or any world in which success of the end goal is desired.  If you’re aiming for a goal and you have a plan to achieve that goal, and you have confidence in that plan, then get out the door!

Over the years, I’ve been asked to speak a number of times about training goals and plans.  As both an athlete and as a coach, before the season even starts, I will at the very least jot down the end goal, then work backwards and figure out how to get from here to there.  Plans are not hard, rigid, never-to-be-deviated from stone tablets, but they do help keep you honest and moving in the right direction.  If it matters to you, you’ll do it.  If it doesn't, you won’t (trademark of Rickie Bobbie Shearer). 

Juma Ikkanga, former world champion marathoner, once said ‘the will to win is nothing without the will to prepare’.  I feel like I’m tossing around a lot of calendar sayings in this edition of ‘Thoughts’.  My apologies.  But sometimes, when a case of the ‘Can I not do this’ -itis sets in, a pithy calendar saying is enough to remotivate you. 

So what did I do?  What would YOU do?  As I am so often reminded, I do not have a $100,000 a year contract from Brooks or New Balance or Nike to do this (not yet, anyway).  At the end of the day, I do this because I love to do this.  I imagine most of you love to do this as well, for whatever reason(s).  Permission to take a day off out of sheer lack-of-motivational-ness is okay.  You can ‘not’ do this.  It’s quite okay.

Yeah, one of the best 7 mile runs I’ve had in a while.  Not wanting to do it doesn’t mean it ain’t gonna be good. 

I hope to see you on the roads, tracks and trails. 

I couldn’t help it.  I just couldn't.  It’s not a theme I’ve ever sported.  It’s not a trend or a ‘Shearer thing’ or even a ‘people know me for this’ kinda vibe.  But I just couldn’t help myself! 

Ever find yourself in a running store, or a sporting good store, or a Marshalls, Target, Kohls, etc… store just staring at the running stuff?  It’s everywhere these days.  Let’s face it, folks, we have impacted the retail space with our little habit. From hats with holes for your ponytail, to shirts with holes for your thumbs, from blinky lights made of some sort of space-age glowstick to 1,700 varieties of snack, energy booster, protein booster jellybean booster… foods – we’re the bomb and target audience!

There they were, calling to me.  Or rather mooing to me.  Cow print running shorts!  Are you serious?  COW PRINTS!  On split shorts!  I am nothing if not ‘outstanding in my field’.  Oh I’m racing in theses.  I had no intention of purchasing ANY running clothing, let alone running shorts, but when COW PRINTS show up, intentions be damned!

The retail space created by running (and other outdoor sports, but let’s be honest, mostly running) has also spurred numerous non-traditional companies to compete for our $$$ as well.  In 2022, runners spent on average $1,748 on running stuff.  Shoes, apparel, goos, etc…  And that number does not include race entry fees or coaching.  You need a small payday loan to run a marathon these days.

So what’s happened to us?  Running was (IS) such a simplistic pursuit.  I swore I’d never use a GPS watch, but 12 years ago I succumbed to the digital ‘track my every heartbeat and step’ device.  I loved my cotton shirts from all varieties of races from 1983, 1999, 2004, but now I own bamboo, smart wool and other various and sundry blends.  And my 5 am runs can now be seen from space. 

Unless you include the $240 carbon plated training shoes, none of this stuff really makes us run much faster than before… or does it?  I’d suggest that I do run faster, just to make sure few people actually see me wearing COW PRINT racing shorts. 

I’d argue that in fact, much of this does improve our running and racing experience.  Think about the discomfort of a heavy cotton sweatshirt in January, after an 8-mile run?  Or how about bonking during a long race effort?  Or there’s carrying a heavy flashlight when instead you could be wearing it to light the way? 

There is a traditionalist stance to take on some things, but I recall my first running shoes, the Nike Cortez, weren’t exactly made to handle 26 miles.  Guess what shoes I wore in my first marathon back in 1979?  I’d love to own a pair of Cortez now, but definitely not to wear for more than as a conversation starter.  White with red trim, please.  Oh, and if I ever get back to running intervals on the track, waiting for the second hand to hit ‘12’ so I can start my next rep isn’t cool. 

I do have a suggestion, and it’s something I’ve been trying to do with my own dresser situation…  Every time I purchase something new, my goal is to donate at least one item to a clothing shelter, or Goodwill Store, or even kids on my teams.  Stuff in good shape should be worn and shared, not used to burden your decision-making skills about what to wear or guilt about having too much (Save the Whales becomes Save the Dressers). 

Oh, next time you see me in a race, I dare you to saunter on up to me wearing Chicken Legs.  Yes, it’s a brand of running apparel.  I’ll probably be wearing my moo cows. 

I hope to see you on the roads, tracks and trails. 

I’m not one to complain about things very often.  At least, not out loud.  But I’d like to register a complaint here and now about you.  Please know that I am not complaining about you personally but rather something that you do regularly. 

Here it is… “I’m not fast enough, strong enough, young enough, etc… to do that.”  I’m here to tell you that a) Yes you are and b) Nobody cares.  I’ll address point B a little bit later, but first, point A.

Coaches sometimes have different tools or motivators for their athletes.  For example, if someone from my team forgets something at practice, such as a water bottle, training shoes or a backpack, to reclaim the item they must do push-ups in front of their teammates.  This fosters some sense of responsibility, some team bonding and for the overly forgetful, a vivid reminder to ‘take ownership’.  And I mean, who forgets training shoes anyway? 

So getting to point A, the word ‘can’t’ is not permitted at any practice.  ‘Can’t’ is a limiter that says, ‘I’m not worth the effort of being the best I can be’.  Coaches often hear athletes say they can’t do something that has been assigned to the group.  It might be a core strength motion, or a sprint to the tree and back, or even a yoga posture.  ‘Coach, I can’t do a push-up’.  ‘Well stop forgetting your training shoes at practice.’ 

I have often said that no one will ever be asked to try something (try, not necessarily accomplish) that I have not already tried.  The ‘I can’t’ approach to training leads to ‘I can’t’ in other aspects of life.  It’s a terrible habit and one you need to look at closely.  Shearer axiom #1 ‘If it matters to you, you will try’. 

It’s not the inability to DO a push-up that is my complaint, mind you, but rather the unwillingness to TRY.  The annual Penn Relays Track Carnival held each year in Philly brings together track and field athletes from middle school to collegians to professional/Olympic athletes to 70, 80 and even 100 year olds.  You read that right.  You owe it to yourself to You Tube Penn Relays 100 year old runners.  You’ll see.  Think you ‘can’t’ do it?

Owing to physical limitations and such, you ARE fast enough, strong enough, young enough, etc… to try.  You are!  You may not be able to run a full 5k right now, but if it matters to you, you will put in the work necessary and try. 

Now, to point B.  And this is pretty simple.  We get so caught up in what we think others think of us that we forget that others are caught up in what we think of them.  And be honest with yourself, do you really judge someone for trying to run a mile or hold a 60-second plank?  I didn’t think so. 

As my son and I drove into our neighborhood recently, we noticed a new runner out new running.  And he was over-dressed for 89 degrees, shuffling badly, and started to walk - for about 15 seconds before he started to shuffle again.  One guess what my only thought was.  Correct… go get it! 

So my personal plea to you is this.  Stop thinking you can’t and start trying.  You are so worth the effort.  Also, stop worrying about what others think of your current inability to sprint to that tree and back.  I guarantee you those who matter are applauding your effort and those who aren’t applauding your effort don’t really matter. 

I hope to see you on the roads, tracks and trails. 

I recently read a quote by current New Zealand 1500 meter record holder and Olympic Silver Medalist Nick Willis that stated, “How different would your approach to training/racing be if you knew you could still be at your best in your 30’s?”  He hash-tagged the quote with #patience, since I guess that’s what you do in today’s world to emphasize something… you hash-tag it. 

I know lots and lots (and lots) of runners.  Runners are strong.  Runners are driven.  Runners are mentally tough.  Runners are persistent.  Runners are dedicated.  But there’s one thing most runners ain’t and that’s patient.  #notachance.

Willis set his first national record back in 2005, as a 22-year old.  11 years later, at age 33 (which is an eternity in middle distance running) he was still among the top 10 in the world.  He attributes that longevity to patience in his training, in his racing and in his recovery. I think we can skip the hashtag here.

Competitive running needs some risk taking for you to be successful.  You often hear about runners who ‘push the envelope’ or ‘red line’.  They know that one step over that line can mean the difference between a six week layoff and a huge personal best.  But risk-taking doesn’t always mean running hard every day or maximizing your weekly mileage every week.  Patience can also be a big risk. 

As I have gotten ‘less young’, I have realized that the key for me to remain a participant is to remain injury-free.  That also means I can’t do what I used to do.  My risks must be different.  #oncearunner 

In 2021, I missed nearly six months of training due to major knee surgery.  The road back to health was long and required a huge amount of patience.  The risk was that as I was getting less young and I might not arrive back as a runner.  But the risk of rushing back into training might lead to an even longer lay-off or worse.  #dilemma (you thought I was completely done with hashtags?).

Since 2021, I’ve slowly clawed my way back to regular running, although every day brings a different challenge.  I have been patient in my approach to training, racing and recovery, and have remained mentally competitive with myself.  I cannot train the way I used to train, but I can assure you that, for the most part, I still have the mindset of a competitive runner, even if there are no Willis-esque results to show. 

Being patient means looking at the bigger picture.  It means taking that occasional day off when your body (or your mind) is out-of-sync.  It means changing the stimulus in your training system from time to time, knowing that you may arrive at race day slightly under-trained (which, by the way, beats the heck out of over-trained).  In the vernacular of my generation, it means ‘ya got to give something to get something’.  #thanksgeezers.

Nick Willis looked at the big picture and realized that he didn’t want to flame out at an early age.  To remain in the mix of Olympic and national glory for multiple years, he probably had to give up a few races, a few miles and even a few luxuries today, in hopes of achieving more of them tomorrow.  Therein lies the risk. 

As you plan your training and racing goals for years to come, be sure to take a close look at patience in your planning.  I hope to see you on the roads, tracks and trails for a long time.  #patience #success #risks and #rewards #enough #hashtags #havefunorgohome  

Certain names can bring chills and shudders to even the strongest-willed runners.  I don’t mean the names of our competitors, either.  No, I’m talking about the names we give to those which challenges us the most – the HILLS!

I have had my fair share of run-ins with these naturally occurring ‘geological anomalies’, as I refer to them.  Perhaps the most famous hill known to runners is Boston’s Heartbreak Hill.  I once had pizza at a local shop that was located on Heartbreak.  “That doesn’t look so bad”, I uttered to the rest of my dining mates.  Dumb thing to say. 

Heartbreak is actually a series of three or four hills that occur in the worst possible place on a marathon course, between miles 16 and 21. Individually they really aren’t that bad.  Collectively, however… well, bad things occur there.  And after you’ve made it up, you get the sheer misery of running DOWN into Boston proper.  My third year running Boston, 1991, I ended up taking the T back into the city, having dropped out at the very top of Heartbreak Hill.  That was also the year of my above ‘misstatement’. 

Other hill names and course names can bring about the same fear, the same aversion and the same dread.  Saytr Hill on the old Baltimore Marathon course was one such hill.  It was a nasty little bugger that occurred just past 20 mile and it was longer and steeper than Heartbreak.  Cemetery Hill is located at mile six of the seven mile Litchfield Hills Road Race in Connecticut.  I once passed Bill Rodgers going up Cemetery Hill.  Boston Bill is 16 years older than me, but I don’t care.  I passed him on a hill, and I beat him! 

I’m not sure why we runners have such an aversion to geological anomalies.  I have always viewed them as challenges to be met and beaten into submission.  One of my former training groups used a two-mile hill climb in Virginia as our annual ‘I’m ready to race’ workout.  The Tower Hill run’s (yes, it had a name) ‘unofficial’ course record is 18 minutes.  I broke 20, but barely.   That was the longest two miles of my life, but I savored every step, knowing my fitness was ‘race ready’. 

It is true we suffer from a lack of substantial hills in and around north Delaware, particularly below the canal.  But there are still opportunities to defy gravity.  Ever run to Townsend and back along Route 71/Summit Bridge Road?  Or how about Noxontown Road to Money Road and back.  White Clay Creek State Park in Newark? And even the canal offers a few opportunities to go up and down, up and down, up and down. 

I’m not sure why the hill from Brandywine Zoo to Rockford Tower in Wilmington hasn’t been given a nasty name yet.  Many who have trained for the former Caesar Rodney Half Marathon, Delaware Marathon or MS 10k know they will be racing up and down that nearly two-mile climb.  But still no nasty name.  How about ‘Andy’s Climb’? 

Hills build strength.  Hills improve our stride and turnover.  Hills help us adapt to speed and pace.  Hills challenge our mental acuity and toughness.  And yes, hills increase our depth and knowledge of profane language.  I have often heard hill training referred to as as ‘speed work in disguise’.  For anyone wanting to run further or faster, the easiest answer is the hill. 

While in college, almost every workout route we ran was known as a hilly.  There was Hilly 6, Hilly 7, Hilly 9, Hilly 11, Hilly 13 and Hilly 16.  I hated Hilly 9.  In high school, nobody wanted to run the Chambersburg High School course.  That course had ‘the Wall’.  But these runs and races steeled our minds and bodies to run faster.    

So look at the next geological anomaly you see and beat it into submission.   Then give it a catchy name like ‘you ain’t so bad’ hill or ‘I own you’ climb.  Others will thank you. 

It’s the most wonderful time of the yeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeear.  Why, it’s late April and early May, of course.  For runners, holiday shopping season is a distant second, unless you need new (insert gear item here), then it’s definitely right now. 

So Shearer, what makes this the most wonderful time?  Well, let me tell ya!  This is the time of year when runners run.  It’s when we watch runners run.  It’s when we see and train with other runners and we run.  And of course, as the weather finally releases it’s icy grips on us… we run. 

For me, the Boston Marathon, held in mid-April, is the true passing of winter into spring.  Boston’s strong grip on the running community dates back thousands of years.  Okay, not thousands, but quite a few.  April 19, 1897, to be exact.  And since then, this singular race has embodied the ‘every runner’s dream’ mentality.  Sure, the elites are there, but it’s you and I who take center stage. 

About a week after Boston is the Penn Relays Carnival, held annually in Philadelphia.  This year’s three-day track and field meet was the 129^th edition.  April 21, 1895, was the first such Meet.  This unique meet features middle school and high school athletes (quite a few from our own Small Wonder), collegians and of course, the professionals and Olympians, ALL on the same stage.  Efficiently run, entertaining in content (like the 100 year old competitors), and in our back yard.  If Boston doesn’t do it for you, the Penn Relays will.

As the coach of a local high school program, this is also the time of the year when we gear up for our own ‘championship’ run.  From the conference meet to the state meet, it’s high octane, high level competition.  My daily mantra to the team is ‘eat well, sleep well, drink well, stretch well’.  It can be the difference between a state title and not making the final roster.  Come watch the future Boston Marathoners and Olympic Hopefuls compete.

After all of that ‘watching’ and after the final thaw (and usually third grass cutting), most of us are ready to shed the sleeves and hats, and trade them in for bug and tick repellant and bare legs.  Group runs increase in size, the local racing season heats up, and generally us runners become more fluid in our movements, as our desire to move increases.  Face it, 70 degrees is a much more motivational temperature than 20.  Am I right? 

So on your next run, get that Andy Williams soundtrack rolling in your head, as you think ‘less cold’ thoughts.  And whether it’s the oval of a track, the straight shot of a 26.2 mile marathon, or watching the next generation compete, enjoy the season! 

I hope to see you on the roads, tracks and trails. 

I was a steeplechaser in college.  If you are unaware of what the steeplechase track race is, I’ll happily paint a picture.  Take a race that’s just shy of 2 miles (3,000 meters, or 7 ½ laps on a standard track), add five wooden, barely moveable wooden hurdles per lap that are 36 inches in height for men (30 inches for women), and throw a small duck pond on the far side of one of those hurdles so that you have to jump it seven times during the race (and 28 other dry hurdles).  Yeah, I was one of ‘those’ runners.

Racing a steeplechase event (okay, ‘racing’ might be a stretch… let’s say ‘surviving’) takes a combination of endurance, strength, agility, humility and speed.  I say humility because when you fall into the water, and you WILL fall into the water, you need to drop your ego, pick yourself up, and waddle onto the next barrier.  It’s a race, after all.

But I wanted to talk about speed.  In college, I was a strong runner with lots of endurance and a decent amount of agility.  But I lacked speed.  And my coach wanted me to develop a finishing drive that would take the sting out of other runners’ speedy kicks.  It took a year of steady sessions but eventually I got ‘less flat-footed’ as he would say.

So what is speed?  In essence, it’s the ability to run faster than your usual pace.  That’s a simple answer, but speed is relative.  My speed isn’t your speed.  Just like my 70% effort isn’t your 70% effort.  And developing speed isn’t really difficult.  It’s a conscious effort to run faster than usual for periods of time. 

Runners wonder what makes developing speed so difficult in the first place.  I mean, doesn’t just sprinting from mailbox to mailbox constitute speed work?  Well yes, at first it certainly does.  But the law of diminishing returns means different types of speed play need to be employed, for different distances with different rest periods.  This is where (and why) most runners go, “eh, never mind”. 

Here's an example of one of my college steeplechase workouts – 10 x 400 meters at my goal race pace, with 60 seconds rest between each hard 400 meters.  Sounds pretty standard, right?  Except my masochistic coach added five hurdles to lane 3 for me to navigate at an average of 67-68 seconds per lap (I really didn’t like that man). 

As a coach, I look for ways to introduce speed in a more simplistic setting.  For example, twice per week, I have athletes run four to six 80-meter ‘striders’ after a 45 minute run.  Once a week, we’ll add some variety to those easy runs, like mid-run pick-ups (also known as fartlek), or a track session of repeats to focus on a specific speed.  Hill repeats and plyometric sessions are also good at developing the muscles and systems for faster running and racing. 

The key to speed work is simply to keep it simple.  We’re not training for the Olympic trials, and we certainly aren’t looking for a set of 10 lung searing 400’s with hurdles in the way in order to knock off 7 seconds from our 3,000 meter steeplechase time.  But even if you aren’t training for a race, speed work (fartlek means ‘speed play’ in Swedish) can help us become more efficient runners and add an element to our regular runs to keep us healthy and running longer. 

Add something easy, like picking up the pace until the next telephone pole, or the next corner.  Or try the previously mentioned striders after an easy run.  Speed work doesn’t need to be done every day, and nor should it be, but adding some gear changing twice a week is recommended. 

If you’re really looking to spice it up, find a group that does speed regularly and tag along.  “But I’m not fast enough” is a common refrain.  Maybe you aren’t… yet… but your inner need for speed will help move you in that direction. 

 I hope to see you on the roads, tracks and trails. 

I almost never wear tights or sweats to run in the winter.  I just don’t.  Haven’t since I can recall.  There are two reasons why…

First, when I was in college, I realized that the more money I spent on laundry, the less I would have for sustenance.  Soooooo, shirts got worn multiple times, sweatshirts were worn outside in, then inside out.  And even on the coldest days at the Haven (Lock Haven University, my alma mater), I wore shorts (probably three times before laundering).  “Will Shearer have a shirt on today?  It’s 46 out.”  Probably not. 

The second reason is simple, my legs get hot quickly.  Within 4-6 minutes of the start of any warm-up, I want to shed the threads.  Remember, everything is an experiment of one, so your results may vary.

I do have some limits on the above-mentioned lack-of-leggings.  Below 20, IF there is a wind, causes some issues for my muscles and cramping.  Below 10, if there is no wind, is also a bit chilly, depending on the distance of the run.

So why am I bringing up my personal lack-of-fashion sense?  Or any sense for that matter?  I do not like this time of year, and here’s why.  A week ago, there were days when the temps were below 30, and windy.  And, a week ago, there were days when the temps were above 50, and calm.  AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!

How does the average runner handle the changing of the seasons?  Recent years, these seasonal changes have seemed more abrupt that I can recall in my younger days.  Fall doesn’t seem like that drastic of a shift, but this springtime stuff… wear gloves, don’t wear gloves.  Where’s my hat?  Don’t need a hat.  Bring a hat but carry the hat. 

Most runners look forward to that first day of spring training, when they no longer need to don the windbreaker, third layer, running tights, thermal socks, etc… and they can feel the warming breeze on their face.  And most runners, me included, do not look forward to having to go back into the running drawer to find the cold-weather clothing that we recently put away for the year, thinking the 50+ degree days were here to stay.

Back in 1999, I was hired to direct a race in Delaware County for the local community college.  It was a 5k fund-raiser for the alumni association and was to be held the first weekend in April.  Preregistration numbers approached 220 and we expected over 300 on race day.  What a great day this way going to be!  Except…

Race morning, we awoke to 8 inches of snow and temps in the mid-20s.  Unexpected, too (where’s Cecily Tynan when you need her?).  At 4 am I was informed the campus was closed and the race canceled.  NOOOOOOO!!!  Most of Delco was under driving restrictions.  Now, here’s the funny part… that afternoon, temps rose to 52 degrees, it was sunny and pleasant.  As I fielded phone calls from unhappy athletes, I found myself directing them to a 5k being held in Philly that same afternoon along the Schuylkill River.  Needless to say, they had a great turnout. 

Spring weather can be unpredictable, fickle, and sometimes downright maddening.  Just be prepared for the swings and mentally know, if you think it’s done, it’s probably not done.  Oh, and don’t use me as a guide for what to wear, laundry ain’t cheap.

I hope to see you on the roads, tracks and trails. 

Runners are often cautioned about pacing themselves in workouts and races.  “Don’t go out too fast.”  “Save something for the end.”  “Run an even pace.”  Those are all regularly heard statements from coaches, magazines and peers about races, workouts and even the regular 5-mile run.

But once in a while I say, “Throw caution to the wind; let your hair down (no jokes!) and GO FOR IT!” 

Most runners know April as the month of the Boston Marathon.  I have had the opportunity and joy of running in three Boston races in my life.  My first was in 1987, when I finished in 2 hours 47 minutes.  In 1988 I returned to running it in 2 hours 48 minutes.  Both of those races stand out to me as great experiences and good races.  However, both times I barely cracked the top 500 finishers. 

In 1991 I returned, fully intent on pushing my limits and going for broke.  Boston, being a downhill course, often leads runners to go out a bit faster than they should, leading to a survivor shuffle the last 5-6 miles.  At 10 miles, I had already equaled my all-time 10-mile race time, and by the half-way point, I was secure on my ticket to the broom wagon.  By 20 miles (Heartbreak Hill), I was done and had been placed on the T for transport back to the finish line; race-bib removed, humbled and fully exhausted. 

So what was the point?  I learned something about my limits and what I could and could not accomplish, based on my training, my experience and where I was in my non-running life.  In other words, I needed to reset expectations so that future training would be improved as would my chance of success. 

I’ve often run and raced with people who never learn that lesson about training and racing expectations.  A good friend from years ago used to race ‘crash and burn’ style every single time.  His reason?  “I don’t need one more sub-16 5k.  I’m looking for the sub-15 5k.”  He was searching for that perfect day for his breakthrough.  His error, however, was that he was always searching and never learning.

In both training and racing, the concept of even pacing and saving something for the end is usually a good approach.  But there are times when putting the pedal down well past your comfort zone can help teach you about limits and realities.  Maybe you’ll learn you can go faster or further than you ever thought possible.  Maybe it’s time for you to blow by that caution tape! 

Runners need to give themselves permission to fail sometimes.  How many versions of the lightbulb did Edison create before he found the one that worked?   Well, he started in 1878 and didn’t file the patent until late 1879, so I’d imagine it was more than three.  Of course, due to some legal wranglings it wasn’t until 1889 that his patent stood. 

I suspect it won’t take you 11 years to perfect your efforts, but to risk success you also have to risk failure, particularly if you are in a race rut.  The ‘how do I get faster’ question is pretty easy to answer, but it often sounds rather flippant to just say ‘try to run faster’. 

Try these – run the first mile of a race 10-15 seconds faster than usual and see how long you can hold on.  Practice running downhill somewhere (okay, so Middletown isn’t exactly chock-full of gravity killers).  Add 10 minutes to your next long run (I’d recommend doing this one with someone or on a shorter loop course).  The point is to push past the comfort zone and see where your body and mind can take you.  And always remember to recover afterwards. 

You never know when your running lightbulb will go off unless you flip the switch a time or two.  I usually counsel that a cautious, patient approach leads to success.  But occasionally, let your hair down and go for it.  Your breakthrough may be just around the next corner. 

I hope to see you on the roads, tracks and trails. 

As we all stood at the starting line, the race director (bullhorn in hand) began his traditional pre-race banter.  “6-minute milers only in the front”.  “The course is marked with white arrows on the road”.  “There will be two commands”.  And a few other remarks as well.  It could have been ANY race ANY where.  But it was HERE!

The ‘here’ was Rehoboth Beach and the event was a tradition in which I have partaken off and on (mostly on) since 1992.  It’s about as far away a destination race while remaining in Delaware as I can get over the Halloween weekend.  To me, Seawitch is ‘the bomb’.  And my family not only approves but usually partakes as well. 

The growth of the destination race began many years ago with the advent of a group out of Boston known as Marathon Tours.  Marathon Tours specialized in vacation packages for the runner-types to places like Dublin, Bermuda, Hawaii and Antarctica (yeah, even the penguins have a marathon).  The concept was simple; to open the possibilities of running in far-away places while providing a top-notch vacation and race experience. 

The destination race has expanded the world of possibilities while at the same time shrinking the globe to a manageable size for us mortals who don’t have a sports agent booking our next flight to run in Dubai.  Hanoi, South Africa, The Great Wall of China, and more have all become accessible to runners and their families.  I mean, who wouldn’t want to race across the Serengeti with zebras and wildebeests as a part of the fan zone?  

There are hundreds of destination events now, both domestic and foreign.  And many races offer their own booking services to access the event and the accompanying holiday.  By the way, I was recently shot down (temporarily) as I angled for a crack at a 10k in Havana. 

Destination events don’t have to take on the super insane or the far-away either.  Seawitch is a perfect example of a destination race that also provides a great two-day family festival.  It’s more than just the race.  There are all sorts of festivals across the country that also have associated races. 

Back in 1999, my bride and I travelled to Davenport, Iowa for the 25^th annual Bix 7.  Bix is an awesome mid-summer race (complete with Kenyans) along the shores of the Mississippi, but it’s also a weekend-long jazz festival.  We ran the race, along with just over 20,000 other runners, then hung out and listened to the sounds in downtown Davenport.  If you’re a jazz-lovin’ runner, I highly recommend the Bix. 

Finding a destination race is easier than you think.  In fact, I’d suggest figuring out where it is you want to go first, THEN looking over the race options.  You may need to be flexible when you travel in order to mix the event with the vacation.  While honeymooning in Iceland in 1995, we found a 10k race and both had the experience of racing overseas in an exotic destination.   I’m not sure we would have just gone for the race, but it was a great addition to an otherwise outstanding adventure.

Running websites and magazines, as well as travel sites and such are all great resources to locate that destination race of choice, whether it’s here or there.  I think I saw the Havana race advertised in AAA magazine. 

So get adventurous, grab a world globe and play that game we all used to play when we were kids – spin it as fast as you can, then stick your finger on spinning globe and voila!  There’s your next destination race location.  Hopefully it won’t be some atoll out in the Pacific.  I did say ANY where, I guess…

I hope to see you on the roads, tracks and trails.