Sticking with It

November 29, 2013

I ran 10 miles this morning at 5:30 a.m. with my friend Al.  It was 26 degrees when we started running and just as cold when we stopped, but nowhere near as cold as it was a dozen or so years ago when we ran 20 miles with a temperature that only needed to be measured with a single digit.

But I’ve come to expect the running conditions this morning—and some a whole lot worse over the course of the past 35 years, because during this time I have run every single day.  Twelve thousand seven hundred and eighty-four days consecutive days of running and 133,187 miles means I’ve averaged slightly more than 10.4 miles a day since a time when Jimmy Carter was President, Dallas debuted on national television and Donna Summer’s MacArthur Park (remember disco?) was the number one song in the nation.

Some might argue that my running is an obsession; others that its an addiction.  I’m not so sure either one is accurate, because I simply love to run.  That’s not to say I don’t have an obsessive gene, however.  I once did sit-ups every day for three years, with a daily minimum of 100 and some days with as many as 300.  I once wrote a letter to someone close to me every day for 27 months, primarily for his emotional support but in all probability for mine as well.  I’ve been doing my yoga regimen every day now for almost two months, but it’s too early to say if this will develop into another obsession (addiction?). Finally, and as you are well aware I’ve been writing every day now for the past 363 days; 32 more and I will have accomplished my goal of writing every day during the 2013 calendar year.

I’ve had the pleasure of competing in almost 800 races, including 12 Boston Marathons, 27 Atlanta Marathons and 36 consecutive Peachtree Road Races.  In my younger (early 40’s, an age I now consider ‘young’) days at Peachtree I had the privilege of starting at the front of the race, literally rubbing elbows with the front-running Kenyans for several years (once the race started they always managed to leave me in their rear view mirrors).  One year recently I started at the very back of the 60,000-runner field to see what I had been missing out on. (Not much, I discovered; if you’re not the lead dog the view never changes.)  While I never won the Peachtree Road Race (Non runner to me more times than I care to remember: ‘You’ve run Peachtree 36 times and you’ve never won?’), I did manage to win five races of varying distances, from 5 kilometers to 50 kilometers (3.1 miles and 31 miles, respectively) in my career.  (Some might say I was versatile in being competetive at both short and long distance events; others might argue I didn’t have any competition in the races I won.  I know the truth, but I’m not saying.) 

Running gave me the opportunity to run in some amazing places, such as Death Valley, the mountains of the Sierra Nevadas, Berlin, South Africa, Honolulu and St. George, Utah.  Running has also taken me—and Cindy (she always appreciated some of the destinations my race schedule took me) to some amazing vacation spots: Boston, Washington D.C., Tybee Island, Callaway Gardens, New York, Mobile and Knoxville (she’s been with me to Berlin, Honolulu and St. George as well). 

I’ve run as early (late?) as midnight and on one occasion as late as 11:30 p.m., barely squeezing in my minimum of three miles before the end of that particular day.  I’ve run in the coldest of cold and the hottest of hot (133 degrees in Death Valley; case closed).  I’ve run in the wettest of wet (monsoon-variety rains) and the driest of dry (again, Death Valley; case closed).  I’ve run in hailstorms, lightning storms and windstorms.  I’ve run when I was as healthy as a horse and when I was as sick as a dog.  I’ve run when I was 24 years old and when I was 58 years old—and haven’t missed a day in between. I’ve transitioned from newlywed to father to grandfather without missing a step along the way. 

Tomorrow is another day.  It will be November 30, 2013 for everyone else; for me it will be the first day of my 36^th year of… Running.  Every.  Single.  Day.     

Have I mentioned I love to run?             

Giving Thanks

What am I thankful for?  Here goes:

I’m thankful I was born with a sense of humor.  I don’t see how anyone can get through life without one. 

I’m thankful I’ve been able to run for the past 35 years.  I can’t imagine what I would look like, what I would be like or what I would be doing without starting each day with a run.

I’m thankful I’ve learned to roll with the punches, take the good with the bad and understand that time heals most wounds.

I’m thankful I had the presence of mind to ask Cindy out for that first date over 40 years ago.  That turned out pretty well, if I do say so myself. 

I’m thankful my family has been blessed with good health, all things considered.

I’m thankful Cindy and I both love animals.  It’s an unspoken comfort knowing your mate shares your feelings when it comes to cleaning up after a pet: That is to say, sh*t happens.

I’m thankful Cindy and I are both die-hard Florida Gators.  I can’t imagine being in a mixed marriage with a Florida State Seminole or, God forbid a Georgia Bulldog.  

I’m thankful my Aunt Freda taught me at an early age to always say ‘please,’ ‘thank you,’ ‘yes ma’am’ and ‘no sir.’  It stuck.  I know Aunt Freda is smiling every time I remember what she taught me, as well as every time I pass on her gift to someone else at an early age.

I’m thankful for steady employment for almost 35 years.  I’m even more thankful retirement is just around the corner.

I’m thankful I no longer have a job requiring me to work on Black Friday, Black Saturday and on occasion Black Sunday. 

I’m thankful for a grandson who thinks of me as his best friends.  I know he’s mine.   

I’m thankful for the teachers who taught me how to read.  I wish more people felt the same way, or at least would make better use of their ability to read.

I’m thankful for the teachers who taught me how to add, subtract, multiply and divide.  I’m also thankful I grew up in a time when there were no calculators in the classroom.

I’m thankful I took Justin and Josh to see Michael Jordan and Dale Murphy play during the primes of their careers.

I’m thankful I saw both Jack Nicklaus and Tiger Woods play during the primes of their careers.

I’m thankful Cindy, Justin, Josh and I were all able to see Tim Tebow when he played for the Florida Gators.  I’m thankful Cindy and I saw Emmitt Smith and Danny Wuerffel when they wore the orange and blue. 

I’m thankful for being raised by parents who gave me the tools to take care of myself when the time came and leaving me with enough great memories to keep me smiling for the rest of my life.

I'm thankful for the men and women of the armed forces: The active, the retired and those no longer with us.

I’m thankful for the family I grew up with, the family I became part of through marriage, the family I acquired through my running and the extended families I became part of at the only two places I’ve ever been employed.

I’m thankful I have the good sense to know when saying WTF is all that needs to be said (or thought).

I’m thankful I’m finally learning how to simply get over it, whatever ‘it’ may be.

I’m thankful I’m learning how life truly does come full circle.

I’m thankful I found a church I enjoy (actually Cindy found it, but still…). 

I’m thankful for Lewis Grizzard, Joseph Wambaugh, Rick Reilly and all of the other writers who have influenced me through the years.   

I’m thankful when I hear myself passing along advice or encouragement that sounds oddly familiar…and then I realize it’s something I heard my mom or dad say to me many, many years ago.

I’m thankful I’ve been able to see my Florida Gators win five National Championships: Three in football and two in basketball.  I’m even more thankful I was able to see two of the Championship games in person.

I’m thankful for clean, crisp mountain air on a 40-degree day.

I'm thankful all of the moving parts still work.  Some better than others, of course.

I’m thankful for the sound of the ocean, the sound of the rain and the sound of a good German beer being poured into a frosted mug.   

I’m thankful I decided not to pursue law school.  (As Shakespeare said, ‘The first thing we do, let’s kill all the lawyers.’)

I’m thankful for Shakespeare.

I’m thankful I always try to look on the bright side of things.

I’m thankful I was able to live in a variety of places as I was growing up.  I’m thankful I’m able to stay in one place as an adult.  I’m thankful I’ve had the best of both worlds.  

I’m thankful for the long hot shower after an early morning run in weather I have a deep affection for: Dark, cold, windy and wet: The darker, colder, windier and wetter the better.  I highly recommend it. 

I’m thankful I went to a Led Zeppelin concert when they were at their peak.  Best band ever.

I’m thankful I love to write.

I’m thankful that when I’m gone, what I’ve written will be left behind.  It will be like I never really left.

Cold Turkey

Effective immediately, Christmas has been cancelled.

When I heard the news that there would be no Atlanta Marathon on Thanksgiving Day 2010, the earlier news about Christmas (relax, I just used it to grab your attention—it hasn’t really been cancelled.) would have taken a back seat.  After all, running 26.2 miles along the streets and roads of Atlanta has been a tradition with me since the Atlanta Marathon was first held on Thanksgiving Day in 1981.  But in 2010 it was taken away…just like that.  Cold turkey.   

I ran my first Atlanta Half Marathon in December 1980 when it was held in conjunction with the full marathon at the Westminster School campus.  I remember how difficult (brutal hills!) it was running the 13.1 mile loop once, and that there was no way I wanted to run it a second time (which constituted the marathon course).  In fact, the runner who crossed the finish line directly in front of me fell over and died…at the age of 26 (he had an undiagnosed heart condition).  That left quite a lasting impression on me, and I was certain I would never run the Atlanta Marathon if it meant two loops of the Westminster course.

However, when the marathon moved to downtown Atlanta in 1981 and made its Thanksgiving debut, I was there (I ran a 3:13 flat for you historians).  I’ve been on the starting line on Thanksgiving morning every year since (don’t ask me why, but I opted for the half marathon in 1989 and 1990; other than that I’ve run the full marathon every year).  From 1983 through 1991, the marathon began in Lithonia and finished in Piedmont Park.  Between 1992 and 1996 the marathon started and finished at Atlanta-Fulton County Stadium, until eventually settling in on virtually the exact same course used in the 1996 Summer Olympics.

But in 2010 there was no Thanksgiving Day Atlanta Marathon.  Christmas had been cancelled—at least in my book.  You see, the Atlanta Marathon is my absolute favorite running event.  It’s been a part of my running life from the very beginning.  My son Justin was only nine days old when I ran my second Atlanta Marathon; my son Josh only 38 days old when I ran fifth.  In 2010 they were 27 and 24 years old—how’s that for perspective!?!  In fact, when the first Atlanta Marathon was held in 1963, I was not quite nine years old.  How can the ‘South’s oldest marathon’ simply fade off into the sunset like that???

I asked Tracey Russell, the Executive Director of the Atlanta Track Club that very question, to which she replied:

We are working to find a better date for the Atlanta Marathon that allows us (the Atlanta Track Club) to offer a longer course time limit (currently it is five hours, which is 1-2 hours shorter than most marathons allow), providing more runners an opportunity to participate, and make the overall event even better.  Keeping the marathon on Thanksgiving Day limits our ability to really make some great enhancements to the event.  So right now we’re just in transition.

(Note: the comments in italics are mine).

While I totally understand her reply, it doesn’t make it any easier to accept Thanksgiving Day would never be the same again for me as well as for many of my closest running friends who I’ve shared this special day with over the years.  Sure, I could run the Atlanta Half Marathon on Thanksgiving Day, but like I said earlier, it just wouldn’t be the same.

But the Atlanta Marathon will always bring back some fond memories (which is how I choose to remember someone when they leave for the Great Beyond):

·      Running my fastest Atlanta Marathon and missing the three-hour mark by a mere 20 seconds in 1991, only to hear my training pals yell ‘you suck’ (they were great kidders…I think) as I triumphantly (?) crossed the finish line.

·      Celebrating my friend Prince Whatley’s 35^th birthday by joining him for a before-the-start run to the 4.4 mile mark of the course and back to the starting line and then running the marathon for a total of 35 miles; one mile for each year.  (If you think the first 4.4 miles of the Olympic Marathon course are tough, believe me: they’re equally as tough in the opposite direction!). 

·      Pacing Valerie Reed in 1993 to her first Boston qualifier and meeting Al Barker at the finish line.  Valerie, Al and I would go on to run a cumulative three-dozen Boston Marathons over the next 16 years.  Valerie would later become President of the Atlanta Track Club for two years, and Al and I would establish the Darkside Running Club in 2002.

·      Reaching my 100,000^th lifetime mile when I crossed the finish line of the 2005 Atlanta Marathon.  I had a special bib number for the occasion—100K—and celebrating with my friends immediately after the race with three bottles of chilled champagne in the parking lot near the finish line.   

I had been planning on ultimately running my 200^th lifetime marathon—and 100^th marathon in the state of Georgia alone—at the 2013 Atlanta Marathon.  But alas, my plans were altered by the stunning announcement that the Atlanta Marathon will no longer be held on Thanksgiving Day.  My favorite running tradition; one that I’d known and loved for almost three decades was gone…taken away from me just like that. 

Cold turkey. 

Orange and Blew

April 10, 2008

To: Athletic Director, Georgia Southern University

Dear Sir (or Madam),

I apologize in advance for not knowing your name/gender nor having the time to check if Google had the information, but I’ve been crazy busy lately. 

Let me begin by introducing myself.  My name is Jeremy Foley and I am the Athletic Director at the University of Florida.  I trust you’ve heard of me, seeing as how our football team has won two of the past three National Championships and our basketball team recently won two National Championships in a row.  There was even a time when my teams held both the football and basketball titles at the same time?  Did I say ‘my’ teams?  I of course meant ‘our’ teams; after all there’s no ‘I’ in ‘team.’  Am I right or am I right?  Besides I couldn’t have done it without the help of Urban Meyer or Billy Donovan.  Did I say ‘I’ again?  I meant ‘we,’ but you know what I mean.  However if you don’t know what I mean I’ll have to ask you to pay closer attention as I don’t have the time to keep explaining things to you.  I might have already mentioned I’m a very busy man.

Let me get back to the reason I’m writing.  It so happens we have an opening in our football schedule for 2013: November 23, to be exact.  As we will be closing out our season the following Saturday against Florida State, we are looking for an opponent that would be a worthy opponent—a quarter or so will do—to give some of our seniors who’ve never left the bench the opportunity to get in a few snaps of Division I football before they graduate.  We’ll do our level best to keep the score respectable: Somewhere in the neighborhood of 45 – 6 give or take a touchdown or two (ours, not yours).  Doesn’t that seem fair?  I happen to think it is, and I’m paid a lot of money to think so I have to assume I’m right.    

We would like to extend that offer to Georgia Southern.  It would be a great opportunity for your university to get exposure to big-time college football, a great opportunity for you to rub elbows with people like me, and a great opportunity for your players to rub shoulder pads with some prime-time college football players.  In return the University of Florida would be willing to pay your institution the tidy sum of $500,000.  According to what the University CFO told me that’s close to half a million dollars--and about what I earn in six months--so just think: You’ll get that for simply playing three hours of football in the Swamp!  You certainly don’t have a chance of winning the game but let me repeat: You’ll be playing in the Swamp!

I’d also be willing to give you a tour of the Heavener Football Complex where you’ll be able to see the many Championships, awards and honors bestowed upon our athletic program over the years.  Included in the tour will be the first public display of the ‘Midas Touch Award’ of which I am the first recipient (No, it’s not because I’m the highest paid Athletic Director in collegiate athletics!).  One night a couple weeks ago, just after our football team won the National Championship for the second time in three years my wife and I were at home watching DVD’s of the second season of Dharma and Greg (that Dharma is so wacky); I was drinking a glass of milk and my wife was polishing my teeth (Have I mentioned my ‘ivory collection’ rivals those of Gary Busey, John Elway and Mr. Ed?) when Molly mentioned everything I touched turned to gold.  From that simple observation the ‘Midas Touch Award’ was born (Molly also came up with ‘ivory collection.’  That Molly can be so wacky at times, it makes me want to call her ‘Dharma.’)    I’d venture a guess and say that by the time you visit our Heavener Complex there will be a few more National Championships on display, courtesy of one Urban Frank Meyer.  Hell, that’s not a guess: That’s a promise!

I hope to hear back from you soon, sir/madam.  I can almost feel your excitement as you read through this letter.  Let me be the first to say: You’re very welcome. 

Remember: While it may not be much more than an exhibition game for the University of Florida, know that it has the potential of being so much more for Georgia Southern University.

With the warmest of regards, I am,

Jeremy Foley

Athletic Director

Inaugural Recipient, Midas Touch Award

University of Florida

Gainesville, Florida     

Final Score: Georgia Southern – 26, Florida – 20

November 23, 2013