4:38:03

Posted on April 17, 2012 by myleftone

So… the 2012 Boston Marathon was epic. I heard that more than 4,000 runners took the BAA up on their offer to defer until next year. These are probably fast runners who wanted to go for PRs (personal records). Smart folks. Another 2,000 or so did require medical help of some kind, and they included elite and expert runners.

The BAA warning before the race was pointed: If you had never run a marathon or had not run in these conditions, they recommended you bag. I realized if I ran in the 88 degree heat, next time that warning wouldn’t mean me!

So the moral of my story: I got greedy. Inexperience told me to add a half-minute to my planned 8.5 pace. Ha! More like two minutes. The BAA warning mentioned adding two minutes per mile, too. If I was realistic, I should have targeted a 10 minute pace, and maybe the plan would work out for 4:20. Maybe. That was the best I could have hoped for. In reality, I ran it in 4:38:03, and I consider the 18 minute extra time to be my punishment, and I’ll take it. The weather was a huge deal for everyone, even for the winner. The word of the day was ‘Brutal’.

Now on to the fun stuff (I’m typing this on an iPad. Why am I typing this on an iPad?): The crowds are awesome. They screamed and made noise whole way. The guardsmen were everywhere. I saw the full-dressed Marines out there. Inspiring!

At some places there were bands playing on trucks or on a lawn. A blues outfit, a bluegrass band, a horn ensemble, and some drum circles. There were some funny signs that I can’t remember. One spectator wore a shirt that read, “Running Sucks”. I was running in pace with a bandit crew from BC (unregistered runners). They got big cheers from their crowd when we reached the school.

I didn’t see any people fall, but I did see runners resting in the shade, being helped by police and volunteers. The volunteers were exceptional. So much work goes into this thing that a staggering number of volunteers are needed. And they get a cool jacket. Orange this year.

I started feeling cramps after the hills. There are four miles on Beacon Street that deserve mention. By this point you want it over. The crowd is loudest here, and tend to yell stuff like “Four miles left! Almost there!” And you feel like you have to oblige.

They really do provide a boost, but at this point swerving over to the edge to high five and whoop back with them uses precious energy. Of course that didn’t stop me. I knew this stretch would be my nemesis, so anything to have fun. One group had a sign for someone named Skip, so I started skipping, and a couple other runners joined me. There was a percussion group banging away, so I gave them a taste of my weird brand of step dancing. More cramps.

At the end, some runners spread their arms wide and ‘flew’ serpentine toward the finish, I didn’t do this, but I did run that last mile. I ran the entire Kenmore stretch (this is where you get seen on the news, doncha know), and just ran through the cramps. Probably stupid, but it’s in the books now, and we’re uninjured.

So, now what?

How about 5k on Tuesday? You can’t say you ran 5k the day after the Boston Marathon unless you run 5k on the day after the Boston Marathon. So I did.

Ready

Posted on April 7, 2012 by myleftone

10K. 42Min.

To many people, that means nothing. It looks like some kind of running stat, like that annoying cousin, the triathlete or something, is always talking about. Normal people talk about Final Fours, Yards per carry, and RBIs. You can stuff your 42 minute 10Ks.

Real runners don’t care much for numbers like that either. They run a 5-minute mile, not a pokey 8. A 42 minute 10K is the mark of a piker.

Well, this piker is pretty darn proud of the number. I turned it in this morning, one week before my first Boston Marathon. I’m in ‘taper’ mode, which means I’m not supposed to be running very much during the 2 to 3 weeks before race day. After 5 months of training at distances of more than 20 miles, the heart, lungs, legs, stomach and mind are ready.

Well, I’m ready.

A lot of real runners have been running since they were stars on the high school track team, so they turn in times like 25 minutes for a 10K and 2:30:00 for marathons. I’ve never seen these folks while training. Most of the people I see while running are doing about my pace. The fast folks must train in some exclusive village they never tell us about.

Come to think of it, I hardly see these folks during the race either. Before the run, I can’t tell which ones they are until they gravitate to the front of the starting line. Then they’re gone like a bullet at the gun, and are dressed and fed and outta there before I hit mile 10. But still, the race people keep the barriers up and keep boxes of bagels out so people like me can finish. Nice of them, really.

So why do people like me run marathons?

A vain search for the fountain of youth?
The manifestation of a serious midlife crisis?
The dumbest weight-loss program ever?
A thinly-veiled substitute for a depressing lack of career success?
An attempt to ‘get fit so I can play with my kids’ that results in being too tired to play with my kids?

The fact is there are a lot of people like me, who were not track stars, but just want to run. Maybe it was just a way to keep fit, but then we get fitter, and faster, then suddenly we get the notion that we can enter the realm of real athletes. That’s kinda how I feel about the Boston Marathon, like it’s hallowed ground. Thanks to Team Playworks, the awesome charity I am running for, and a lot of great people who have donated and helped me raise money, I’m allowed to touch it and graze the grasses of greatness for just a few hours. It’s a little awe-inspiring and overwhelming.

It’ll be hard to feel like I belong on the course, and it’ll be hard to overcome the crowds, the adrenaline rush, and the runner’s high. I already know it’ll be hard to push the last few miles if I’m not disciplined about the early ones. If I want that late kick, I need to watch the pace, take care on the hills, watch my water and gel intake, keep a light step, and just let the ground coast under me like I’m a leaf on the wind.

Whoa, those are things real runners say. Like I said, I’m ready.

And What Have We Learned, Hmm?

Posted on March 13, 2012 by myleftone

The Boston Marathon is less than five weeks away.

Normally that wouldn’t bother me at all, but this year is a little different. This time I’m supposed to run in it.

It’s 26 miles. 26.2 actually, as any marathoner will probably point out. I’ve run 5 miles. Even 10. But that’s always been my limit. I don’t think it was physical as much as mental. Running 10 miles takes an hour and a half. That could be a movie. Instead, I’ve chosen to spend that time pounding my legs into pavement listening to an iPhone shuffle playlist that is short enough to call up Barry Manilow twice.

Barry Manilow. Twice.

And now I’ve signed on to run more than twice that distance. No iPhone allowed.

But I have learned some things. First, I’ve learned that a die-hard skier can actually shift priorities. This was probably the mildest winter I can remember in awhile. As a lifelong skier, I’m sure feeling a bit torn about my good luck with the weather. If there was ever a winter to keep the skis in the cellar and train for a marathon instead, this was it.

I’ve already been telling people this was my plan all along, because I knew, (yes, KNEW) this was going to be a warm, dry winter with the roads clear of slush and sand and the temperature a balmy 20 degrees for my 5AM runs.

I’ve learned whenever I’ve heard runners say: “If you can run two miles you can run anything.”, “If you can run 16 miles you can run a marathon.” it’s emphatically NOT true. I cannot run 10 miles if I don’t get used to running 6. I could never run 13 without first running 10. And so it goes. The 26.2 mile distance is only getting HARDER to reach as I start running 18, 20 and 22 miles.

I learned to be cavalier about injuries. Is that a bone spur? Is that an IT band? Is that tendinitis? Did I just jam an ankle doing something really stupid at the playground with the kids? Let’s run it out. Let’s put in 3 miles and see if it goes away. I have to put 22 miles on this ankle tomorrow.

I learned about ice.

Speaking of that, for the first time in my life, I’ve learned what it felt like to be unconsolably cold. A long run takes so much out of you that I now have this unnerving need to bundle up right afterward and just be warm. Now. This is a concern because I always want to be a northerner, but I think it’s because endurance training draws down every ounce of energy I have.

About that, I knew my legs and ankles would feel it, and I knew my mind would be tested. I wasn’t ready for the gastrointestinal issues associated with distance running but that’s now under control.

I’ve learned that my heart and lungs actually work really well during a run even though I’m slightly asthmatic. In fact, I’ve become annoyed that I can’t get my heart rate up anymore during regular exercise.

The biggest energy effect I wasn’t ready for? The crushing stupidity. After three hours running the road, I’m a much bigger moron than usual. Alcohol wears off in a day, and I assume other popular imbibed and inhaled substances wear off overnight. But running 20 miles puts me in a should-not-drive-should-not-use-scissors-should-not-be-put-in-charge-of-children stupor that can linger for days.

I learned that runners see a lot of sunrises from the road. More than that, after a year of hiking and running, I’ve become far more claustrophobic. I can’t stand being indoors. But I consider this a happy discovery.

I’ve learned that it’s possible to raise ridiculous amounts of money from friends and family, but it’s hard for someone like me who hates asking. You have to. You just do. And many amazing people will come through for you and the Playworks cause.

I’ve learned that I like this. I’ve learned that it is possible to see runners on the street and wish I was out there. I can sit up and say “You know what? I feel like a quick 5 miles.”

Most importantly, I’ve learned that I can do this.

Get Your Inspiration Here

Posted on February 8, 2012 by myleftone

God Said No! A Spring Paddle on the Quaboag

Posted on December 18, 2011 by myleftone

SCENE I: Malden, MA, 6:17 AM

A corridor in a suburban home. A banister extends most of the way across the room. There is an alcove and a window on the left end. A low table with a lamp and a telephone is on the right. Various multi-colored polyester clothing is draped over the banister. TOM enters and starts to laboriously pull on a wetsuit. Fade music.

(Phone Rings)

TOM stumbles to the phone, legs stuck in the wetsuit. He answers.

TOM: Hello?

GOD: Just what in my name are you doing?

TOM: Uhh…

GOD: Do you have any idea who this is?

TOM: Umm—

GOD: It’s God, stupid! Listen. Every weekend I check in on you, and up ‘til now I’ve been generally pleased. But this is idiotic! I gave you all this stuff to do, and all this time to do it in. I gave you seasons. Don’t you have any idea what seasons are for? Kid, didn’t you load your kayak into your truck a few minutes ago? Did you notice the two inches of snow on the ground? Wasn’t the door stuck? Wasn’t your tie-down rope frozen? Couldn’t you see your breath? I gave you common sense, with the stipulation that you use it regularly. You are completely ignoring me!

TOM: Uhh, but—

GOD: But what? I know what you’re going to say; I put the rivers there. And I made them run in the spring. No kidding! Ya think the world revolves around you? There are fish and stuff that need the water, too. So the rivers run in the spring. That doesn’t mean you’re supposed to be on them! Listen, I can send you all kind of hints: snow, cold, dead batteries, flat tires. I’ll just let you know one thing… You’re on your own here, kid… Go ahead, paddle the Quaboag. See if I care. Go. Go! Just don’t come crying to me later. Some folks pity fools. I do not!

(Click!)

TOM slowly hangs up and gathers his gear. He exits.

SCENE II: Warren, MA, 9:39 AM

Chuck and I entered a town grocery store/post office/bank/shoe repair/church/gun shop. What wasn’t it? A restaurant. The lady at the counter said the nearest breakfast could be had ten miles away in East Brookfield. Out of time, we procured some granola bars and escaped to the putin described in the guidebook. Everything was there, the island, the class II rapid. The headstone reading “Lucy Stone Park”, the snow on the ground. But no other paddlers. It was the right time, everything was in order, but where was the rest of the trip? Had they ditched us? We looked at our watch, the guidebook, the empty parking lot, and began to realize we would not be paddling. I figured maybe God was right.

Then, as if on cue, two trucks drove up with boats loaded, and we told the occupants of our predicament. They informed us, “Oh, there’s another putin at the factory.” We would have to ask the author why it wasn’t in the guidebook. Heading downriver to the other putin at a factory below a 20’ dam, we found our group already dressed, and told them about the mixup. We didn’t hold them up, so they were on their way. We drove further down to the takeout, and discovered four guys with three playboats and a C1.

The guys asked if we wanted to join them. “What?” we said, “But you have playboats and all we have are these lowly gaper boats.” They didn’t care. They said our stupid boats could handle this river by themselves, we may as well be in them. Who could argue with that bulletproof logic? Then we asked them where they usually paddle.

“Oh, Hubbard Brook, Roaring Branch, Bull’s Bridge, stuff like that.”

“Oh. I see. We’re dead.” It was really starting to become apparent that God was right. The dude just knows.

So we paddled the river with them and it was really fun. Watching from the eddies, that is. Those guys spent a lot of time going vertical. Given the freezing temperatures of both the water and the air, I decided there was no way I was going to tempt fate by sticking my bow into a wave. Of course, this conviction lasted about 10 seconds from putting in, and I was soon surfing everything I could find. A soccer ball followed us for part of the way, and we hit it back and forth while spinning down some of the class III rapids. Another installment of Stupid Kayak Tricks.

We eventually ran into our original trip, and told them we had changed our minds, but I think it was apparent. We reached the takeout without much trouble and were soon on our way to Zoar Outdoor, to buy paddle porn and gear. I wanted to see how the heck to get some of those moves that the playboaters were doing. Not that it will matter until July.

SCENE III: Charlemont, MA, 4:22 PM

Zoar Outdoor has a new entrance, still under construction but looking really cool. Bruce Lessels, the owner, and author of our guidebook was there. He asked if we had paddled, and we told him that indeed we had, on the Quaboag. Then we told him about the mixup at the putin, he informed us, “Oh, there’s another putin at the factory.”

To which we asked, “THEN WHY WASN’T IT IN YOUR BOOK?”

Yeah, like we really said that to Bruce Lessels. We obviously aren’t qualified to read his guidebook, much less talk to him in such a tone of voice. Instead, we curtseyed and told him of our plans to go scout a class VI rapid in the guidebook called Tunnel Vision. Did I say “scout”? “Scout” implies that we would ever possibly run it. It was more like “gape at in disbelief”. We weren’t qualified to look at this rapid either.

On the way home, we checked out a new bistro in Greenfield with an eclectic menu of fine Mexican, Southern, and Italian cuisine, served so quickly that you’d swear the food was already prepared. That is, unless you were Chuck, who waited 20 minutes for his fried chicken value meal. The kitchen staff gave him an extra wing for his trouble. I guess they’re still working out the kinks.

So we were on our way home, warm and dry in the car, with boats intact and new paddling videos and magazines. It was March 18 for crying out loud! We discussed whether paddling was becoming some kind of cult addiction. Who cares, it had been a really cool day. God was wrong.

SCENE IV: Malden, MA again, 11:02 PM

A corridor in a suburban home. TOM enters and starts to hang pieces of paddling gear on the banister to eventually dry (they will have to thaw first). The phone rings.

TOM: (picks up phone) Hello?

GOD: You were right, kid. But you’re still an idiot. (Click!)

Fade to black. Close curtain.

The Tom Bishop Fan Club – Yes, I’m Serious!

Featured

Posted on November 28, 2011 by myleftone

If you really, and I mean really have nothing better to do today, please join The Tom Bishop Fan Club on Facebook! This is where I will share stuff about hiking with the kids, training for the marathon, and Team Playworks. You can post stuff there too. It’s the new home of fun!

Plus, sign up for the MyLeftOne Newsletter! It’s like a little ray of sunshine in your inbox.

Why Run?

Posted on November 23, 2011 by myleftone

I remember exactly when I began running. It was March 2005. The days were getting longer, and it was just a few weeks before we set the clocks forward for Daylight Savings Time. I decided I was sick of being overweight and I needed to expend some nervous energy.

Why was I nervous? For a few months, I had begun to realize our family business, a hair salon, wasn’t going to make it. After a year and a half, revenues were still rising, but not quite enough to cover costs. The writing was on the wall, so I hit the pavement.

My first run went a quarter mile, down to the corner store. I got to the corner and doubled over in exhaustion. Oh my God, I wondered as I bent staring at the sidewalk, was I just going to be unable to run? Were some people naturally athletic while others, myself included, just naturally… not?

It wasn’t like I was a cow. I was an expert skier and a whitewater paddler, though I’d been out of those sports for a couple of years while opening the salon. But now that things there were in flux I wanted to get back into shape. Even the running was supposed to be a precursor to something I really wanted to do; join a gym. But first I wanted to see if I could lift my fitness to a point where I could walk into a gym without looking and feeling like a charity case.

So this first quarter mile wasn’t all that encouraging. I walked the rest of the three-mile course I’d mapped out and got to it again the next morning. This time making it another block before walking.

Before long I learned to pace myself, and was able to run the entire thing within two weeks. My time improved to the point where I could actually start caring about it. I joined the gym in June and enjoyed the best ski seasons I’d ever had.

The running continued. I entered races. By 2007 I was putting in a 7 minute pace for shorter (<3mi) races and a sub-8 minute pace for longer ones. I was starting to run 10k and 10 mile courses, and enjoying it. At some point it’s not exercise anymore. It’s fun. There’s simply no way around it.

In late 2007, the gym went on hold. The reason? Riley. Riley is a little blond girl my wife Lisa and I met when she was 3 days old, lying in a hospital bed. It’s a vapid cliche to say she changed our lives, but she did.

Early parenthood is when everything kind of pauses so you can focus on a little one. But before long, I think most parents are determined to get back to to the glory days, only this time sharing them with a child. That’s where I am now, back on the roads pushing the pace. There are the obvious reasons: I’m trying to keep in condition for hiking with the kids and get in shape for another great ski year.

And now there’s something even bigger: I’m proud and honored to have been invited to join the Team Playworks Run for Recess, which is running the Boston Marathon on April 16, 2012. Playworks is dedicated to increasing and improving recess in schools across America, which is a very important part of childhood learning.

And I’m raising money for Playworks too.

So why run? For fitness, for training, for a great cause, and for my kids.

And I might add, for fun. That’s why.

Nike Running: A Social Media Mistake

Posted on September 20, 2011 by myleftone

Or should I say total marketing blunder? First of all, everyone knows in business that you keep your public discussion about your industry and competition positive. The public, even your fans, are turned off by your negativity about other companies.

Nike’s #EPICFAIL

Nike really screwed the pooch on this one. Their Facebook post seemed innocuous enough: “FACT: Friends don’t let friends wear shoes with five toes” it read. No big deal, right? They’re just having a little fun with a trend that has captivated the running world, right? Those five-toe running shoes are kinda goofy, right? Haha, everyone?

Oops. It turns out a vast chunk of Nike’s audience have tried the toe-shoes and like them, or have seen them, or at least respect the attempt at innovation and industry leadership. Vibram, Merrell, Fila and a couple of other companies are making these weird-looking shoes for ‘barefoot’ running. And apparently Nike has not caught on. Maybe it’s because of a patent, or they think it’s a passing fad, or their internal scientists really feel that these shoes are sub-par, unsafe, uncomfortable, or offer inferior performance. I could understand that.

But this petty little post on Facebook doesn’t have much science behind it, besides psychology. It’s a little like watching a jealous high-school cheerleader gripe about the new popular girl. After a long string of posts that make complete sense for a global brand selling stylish performance apparel, suddenly the company attacks a proven and validated technology.

It’s About The Brand, Not The Shoes

I’ve seen these shoes in action on the hiking trail. Apparently they are better for the feet, as well as for a hiker’s or runner’s ankles and legs. It may be a different thing to run in them than the sneakers we are used to, but it represents a performance enhancement that has definitely caught on. It reminds me of the deep-cut parabolic skis. I thought they were a fad a few years ago, and was among the last to buy a pair. Today I can’t imagine life without them.

Maybe these five-toed running shoes will be a flash in the pan, or maybe they will become the thing we can’t imagine not having in a few years. Either way, that is not why Nike has made a mistake. These shoes right now represent innovation, something that is constantly in demand in the running world and in all of sports. Nike often claims to represent the latest in athletic shoe technology, and it’s difficult to imagine a serious manufacturer belittling a clear advancement in its industry, no matter who created it.

This isn’t like Coke versus Pepsi. It’s more like if a maker of electric guitars bashed a company that makes acoustic guitars. Many of the most avid fans will try other manufacturers’ products and probably respect and own some. These are people who take running seriously. The focus on style may work for the fashionistas, but the serious runners aren’t concerned about that. For a company that just wants high school kids to wear their gear because it looks cool, this Facebook post was a smart move; but for a company that is trying to appeal to serious runners, it was a mistake.

And It’s About The Fans

Some of the Nike-defenders on Facebook have asked “So why did you like Nike’s page?” Well, it’s because these are serious running fans who own Nike products. It isn’t as if Dick Morris’ followers ‘Liked’ Michael Moore’s page so they could post on Mike’s wall and bash his followers directly. Nike’s followers on Facebook are actually interested in the company and its products, but they also favor gear from other companies, and this childish behavior from Nike will rub most of them the wrong way.

I myself follow (Like) the company’s Facebook page, and that’s how I saw this catty little status update. I own a pair of Nike running shoes, but I prefer my New Balance and Asics runners and when I hike, I wear Merrell. I probably follow or ‘Like’ those companies too (seriously, I don’t really know without looking), and if one of them did this I wouldn’t be a fanboy; I would be embarrassed and ashamed.

Maybe It’s Brilliant, (But Probably Not)

The majority of commenters are highly against what Nike has done, and this will be seen as a mistake by the company. In fact, I wouldn’t be surprised if they were developing a similar product right now. If this update is simply part of an elaborate reverse-pshychology marketing campaign, this may be the beginning of one of the most clever and elaborate buzz-building schemes in the history of online marketing.

Let’s see what chapter two will bring. For now, Nike stands with egg on its face.

Who I Am (Really)

Posted on August 23, 2011 by myleftone

I was surfing through my Facebook photos recently, in preparation for the inevitable rainy-day sit-down with my Google+ account (I will never get it done if the weather stays sunny). I was struck by the sheer number of hiking and backpacking photos among the batches of goofy stuff I post. I guess you never know what you really are until you see it all combined in one place.

MyLeftOne (Tom Bishop) at Crawford Notch

At Facebook, I post almost nothing about work or marketing, but I force-feed my small group of Facebook friends a firehose of hiking stuff and kid stuff, usually combined.On YouTube, I am a guy who makes moronic videos that often involve banjo music.On Twitter and LinkedIn, I’m a marketing expert who is hyper-interested in brand strategy and social media, email and text marketing technologies (I work for a company that provides online marketing gadgetry, and therefore must play this role).

On this blog, I pretty much do the same, although I sometimes spill my guts in a pathetic self-hating rant. I have no idea why, it just feels cathartic.

So who will I be on Google+? Will I be a fun, interesting, goofy songwriting dude who likes outdoor adventures and writing banjo tunes for his kids, or a total boring douchebag who is truly, really very much into the latest online marketing ‘best practice’ (Seriously, what other kind of person would be truly into that)?

After looking at all those Facebook photos, I think the guy on Google+ will be the hiker, skier, and kayaker who loves playing music and watching sci-fi. I will be the guy who gets called a ‘freerunner’ by kids at the playground (and a ‘retard’ by their parents). I will be the guy who lives every moment waiting for the clock to tick around to the point when I get to play with my kids and bring them on some interesting adventure.

I will be this guy:

And this guy:

Go ahead, get to know MyLeftOne at Google+. I promise I will set up my account a little better soon. When it rains.

-Tom

MyLeftOne

Tom Bishop on Marketing, Running, Hiking, and Being a Dad

Category Archives: Running