Week One: Back to Work

I'm not sure how to start out this post. Does last week count as our first week? Or was it week zero? Do I start by waxing poetic about the challenge we are all taking part in? About how you are worthy of respect just for lacing up a pair of running shoes to train for a marathon, let alone run one? So many places to start, but I only get that one opening.

Oh wait. Maybe I should start with an introduction, since a good chunk of you haven't met me yet. My name is Mike Nawrocki and I'm the coach with the amazing foresight to plan a vacation right when this class started. Marty, Deb, and Carly haven't thanked me yet for "stepping aside" so they could do all the work early on, but I'm sure they will later. Truth be told, this past week was the only one my wife (Emily) and I both had free to go on vacation this summer.

Or another way I could have started was by asking everyone collectively, how did your first week of training go? Well thanks for asking. Oh wait. I was the one who asked that question. Well, I'll answer it, too.

My week of running was ideal. We spent a week at Emily's family cabin. It is one of my favorite places, which is odd since it's located outside of Hancock, Wisconsin, which is near Wautoma, which is near of Steven's Point, which is near, well, nowhere.

And that is why I love to go on vacation outside a town too remote to even be "in the middle of nowhere." There is nothing to do but read, run, drink some Coca-Colas, and drink some drinks that are not Coca-Cola... well and then drink some more of those not Coca-Cola drinks. Cripes. We don't even have a TV at the cabin. The biggest decision facing me each day was, "Should I enjoy a cold, refreshing Coca-Cola before I go for my run, or should I enjoy a not Coca-Cola?"

Does this sound like marathon training to you? It doesn't too me. Normally I don't run on vacation, unless I'm at the cabin. At the cabin, I savor running. While most folks are jet skiing on the lake or fishing, I spend my time running past corn and bean fields and exploring new rural roads I've never been down before. I call these random runs. And I have yet to go on a random run that did not yield a surprise.



And some surprises aren't so good. You know, like getting lost on County Road B, finding out a really big and territorrial dog lives on County Road J, or that crop dusting is no longer reserved for dusk. During one morning random run a few years ago, I felt like I was on the set of North By Northwest.

But most are really cool surprises. Like when I was running with my iPod and my dog Pancho out on Waushara County Road O. Pancho and I crossed paths with an Amish farmer. And more importantly, for Pancho, we crossed paths with the farmer's huge horses pulling a wooden flatbed trailer, with two Amish kids as cargo. My dog spooked the horses while my own cargo (an iPod and stinky running gear) spooked the farmer.



So we had to figure out who should pass first, without his horses making like bucking broncos. And while we were negotiating this, a guy driving a huge pick-up truck with a jet ski and an ATV in the back waited behind us. Talk about three cultures colliding! And all on a farm road beyond the middle of nowhere. Tell me, as diverse as the Twin Cities are, do you think you'll ever see anything like that?

And this past week, I stumbled across something very cool. On one of my random runs, I ran east on county road GG and noticed a sign indicating that the Ice Age Trail was to my left. Less than two miles from the cabin. Very cool. The trail is still in development, but it will one day bisect not just all of Wisconsin, but most of the Upper Midwest. So presently the trail near the cabin is only two miles long. While Pancho loved the trail, and the tics loved me and Pancho being on the trail, I won't get too excited until there are actually endless miles for me to run on.

If you have read this far and not given up, congratulations. You clearly have persistence, endurance, and the ability to withstand tedium and pain. In other words, you have the makings of a great marathoner. And if you have made it this far, you have to be wondering, "What the heck does this have to do with my marathon training program?"

Well, nothing. Zilch. Nada. Zero. And that is actually my long-winded point. For the last seven days running for me has been an escape. I ran to be a tourist.

But now it is back to work. I am no longer running to take in the countryside or see if I can outrun a mutt that is the size of Seabiscuit, but responds to the name "Cujo." Random runs ended with my vacation. I am back to running with a purpose. I am running to train for the Twin Cities Ten Miler. I am running to train with marathoners. The alphabet soup of Wisconsin county roads has been replaced by the MDRA alphabet: LT, PR, PW (let's hope not), TCM, MDRAFMTP, DFN, DFN II, and an alphabetized list of familiar runners, as well as a list of new names to place with new people.

And as much as I love being on vacation, I could not be more excited to be back. And to train and work with everyone.

Between now and October 7, some of us will get hurt. Some of us will finish our first marathon ever. Some will PR. And, yes, we may have a few not PRs out there.

And that is the allure of the marathon. It is no small task to devote over three months of your life to something that comes with not even a whiff of a guarantee.

So I raise a glass of not Coca-Cola to all of yall. Here's to the start of the adventure. I wouldn't want to be anywhere else.