Endurance.  Persistence.  To see the wall in front of you and push it, punch at it, tear it down.  Runners frequently are faced with barriers, and we are all equipped with varying methods and degrees of dealing with these barriers.  But sometimes it is the desire to keep pushing that is the hardest thing of all.

This year has not been a good year for me for running for a whole number of reasons.  Between schedule conflicts, responsibilities, and injuries, I suspect that the amount of running miles I tallied in 2011 was dwarfed by the miles run in the first four months of 2010.  But I love running, and I especially love some fresh powder to plow through in the morning.  It’s incredibly peaceful and certainly less nerve-wracking than driving through it to get to work.

Again, I have not been hitting the pavement as often as I should be, and I knew that I needed to take it easy running the 10K from my workplace to the bus stop if I was to come right back out the next morning and do it again.  On the other hand, I knew that I was running 5 minutes late (as usual), so I didn’t want to go too slowly.  So out into the Michigan winter wonderland I went, gazing around at the treelimbs covered in white with a big smile on face.

This smile did not last long.  Apparently I had forgotten that running though snow is not the best thing for speed, and certainly not good for one’s pacing.  Normally I wouldn’t mind, but I had a schedule to keep and a bus to catch.  On top of that, as soon as I hit the hills on my route I knew something was wrong.  My legs felt fine; my knees were doing all right… but my energy level just was not there.  I had to concentrate on my breathing and felt light-headed coming out of an incline… certainly not an indicator for an enjoyable run.  The last thing I needed was to poop out after four miles, so I forced myself into what I thought was a respectable yet leisurely pace.

I found out just how leisurely as I made the turn into my final stretch, about .7 miles away from my bus stop.  According to my cell phone, it had taken me one hour to run five and a half miles!  That’s close to an 11-minute pace, and I was almost completely drained of energy.  But most disheartening of all:  I had something between 5 to 6 minutes to make the bus on time.

That painful realization forced me into a dead run.  As I kicked up the snow I knew that there was no way I’d make it on the sidewalk, so I popped down onto the (blessedly wide) bicycle path on the side of the road.  As I approached the curve that led to the intersection where my bus turned, I was somewhat relieved to see a person standing there waiting.  But I wasn’t out of the woods yet:  at any time, the bus could appear and turn, and there was still an eighth of a mile to go.

At this point, my legs were numb and my mind a haze.  I involuntarily began doing something I had never done before:  making grunting noises with each exhalation.  Still I charged up the final incline to the intersection, watching as the light for the cross-traffic turned green.  And there was the bus, making a left.  Without pause, I glanced briefly for cars that might make a left-hand turn on my side of the road and, not seeing any, I sprinted across the intersection to the bus stop, waving my arms like a maniac.  For a moment I thought the driver didn’t see me, but the bus stayed at the curb just long enough for me to leap up the steps and jump in.  I had made it.

I managed to gasp to the driver that I needed a second before I could grab my bus pass out of my running backpack.  He nodded and continued down the street.  Two young ladies watched me with amused looks as I stood there at the front of the bus, heaving.  The last thing I needed now was to pass out or vomit on the bus – both situations struck me as being messy at best, not to mention embarrassing.

At the next stop, the driver looked at me expectantly and I was able to hand over my fare.  Although extremely light-headed, I held it together until I reached my destination and clambered out, barely able to walk.  I regained some strength as I approached my daughter’s school to pick her up, but needless to say I was far less cheery than normal.  Without question, my evening commute had turned into one of the top three most difficult runs I had ever experienced.

Every day, those afflicted with Multiple Sclerosis are faced with a similar daunting challenge.  They deal with chronic fatigue, discomfort, bizarre and random physical issues, and even paralysis.  There are two ways to deal with this:  succumb, or forge forward.  Like running, some days are better than others.  But giving up is not an option.  This is why we run, why we walk, and why we bike; why we keep our destination firmly embedded in our mind’s eye.  It is that day when we at last awake to a world free of Multiple Sclerosis.

Multiple Sclerosis stops people from moving.  But other factors can be just as debilitating… even ones that have little to do with a physical barrier.

Yesterday I ran a cozy 5K jog around the neighborhood with my daughter.  It was my first run in probably over a month.  For a person who lives for that extra running stamina boost, a full month of no running is very odd.  I could come up with all sorts of excuses as to why this occurred:  a stomach bug just before Christmas, or the need to drive to and from work due to school events, or just getting things done for the holidays.  But if I were to be truly honest with myself, the real reason was fear.

In early December I ran home from work, enjoying the bizarre October-in-the-middle-of-winter weather we’ve been experiencing regularly this season.  On a personal level, running forces me to spend time out of the fray of work / home / school activities; it’s a way to clear one’s head and loosen up those stress knots that slowly tighten like a vice on the back, shoulder, and neck.  All was well until the last quarter mile of my 10K commute when I felt a little twinge in my left knee.

Runners are always dealing with twinges, aches, and other minor pains:  it’s part of the job.  Usually I can run these off.  This twinge, however, was made of sterner stuff.  It didn’t abate or go away… in fact, it continued to become more pronounced with each foot-fall.  Concerned, I slowed to a walk, and the twinge vanished.  Confused, I revved back up to a jog and immediately regretted it:  the pain came back, hobbling my pace.  Luckily, I was close to my bus stop and walked the rest of the way without any further problems.  But at the back of my mind, I knew this was going to take some mending.

I waited a week and noted that I could again hop on my left foot without problems.  But every so often, I could feel a little tug in the knee – a reminder that something was “off”.  Over the next weekend, a friend of mine who works at the V.A. clinic felt around the kneecap and declared that she could feel damage to the tendons behind the knee – possibly some sawing away of the ligaments.  This declaration freaked me out completely:  it’s the last thing that any runner wants to hear.  Cycling and running now partially define me – was I looking at the end of my running commutes?

This news put a shadow over me, and I spent the next few weeks avoiding running altogether.  The hustle and bustle of the holidays made it easy to do so, but I knew that eventually I’d have to get out onto the street, especially if I was going to be in any condition for the River Bank Run.  It took 2012 to roll around to finally build up the courage to do so.  I convinced my daughter to come with me on bike; she was more than happy to get out onto the road herself in the middle of autumn-in-winter.  However, I warned her ahead of time that it might be the shortest run of my career.

I needn’t have worried:  I easily flew through my old 5K route around my neighborhood, ending up at my daughter’s school playground for some down time.  The knee didn’t act up at all, although it still didn’t seem totally up to spec.  However, it felt wonderful to get out of the house, and I felt ashamed that I spent a month avoiding doing so.  What was stopping me?  The unverified words of a friend?  A little ache and pain?  I know many folks with MS who deal with far worse issues… who wake up in the morning with numbness, or unexplained pain, or balance issues, or even with the inability to stand.  They live with these constant reminders of their disease and yet weather through them with a brave face… certainly a braver face than the one I had been wearing.

Fear can be a cold, seemingly unconquerable barrier.  Sometimes it just takes takes courage to discover that the wall is merely a maze… a maze that, once navigated, leads to an open path.

1/11/2012 ADDENDUM:  Wednesday evening commute… left 10 minutes late… 5.7 miles later, I arrived to my bus stop with 5 minutes to spare.  I know this weather will not hold up, but I’m ready to enjoy it while it’s here.  Man, it’s good to be back.

More to come…

Hey, this is Sloth from Team N3kk1d.  Hopefully this is the first of many blog posts from what I would call a “Sloth’s-eye view” as we train through the winter and deal with standard bizarre Michigan weather while doing so.

In an attempt to explain why and how I run and bike through Michigan winters, I’ve told this to friends and family:  if you ask a person why he or she runs, you’ll tend to get three types of responses.  There’s the type of runner who runs because running is considered healthy, but he or she hates every moment of it.  (ugh!)  There’s the type of runner who runs because it’s an enjoyable thing to do every so often and it feels good – a “casual” runner, I’d say.  And then there’s number three:  the runner who gets really, really into running.  This is the type of runner who starts out running his or her first mile and eventually is seen doing a Warrior Dash – or an Ironman – with a big, wide grin.  I fall somewhere in-between categories two and three, with one foot planted in the “casual” world and one foot in “crazy”.

There is really something magical about those early mornings as the pre-dawn slinks into the eastern horizon, almost imperceptibly, teasing the sky with color.  There’s a beauty to running alone on those mornings… it’s almost as if those moments belong to you and you alone.  But there is also a magic to running with a group of others who just might be as casual – or crazy – as you are.  And it’s especially inspiring when your fellow runners are not just there for themselves… there’s another, greater purpose involved.

In late November I had the pleasure of attending the 19th Annual Turkey Trot at Cornerstone University.  The Turkey Trot occurs early on Thanksgiving Day morning with the tagline “Use Your Feet Before You Eat!” and is intended to be a fun, family-oriented 5K run/walk for all ages.  The event is a fundraiser for Grand Rapids Public Schools athletics, and I was utterly blown away by how many people poured in 20 minutes before start time asking “where do you register?”.  On a national holiday, these families and young people were up at 6:30 in the morning running for GRPS.  What inspired them to come to this event specifically?  There was similar – and substantially less humble – non-charity event occurring simultaneously in East Grand Rapids.  Why run for GRPS?

There is something about running with a group of like-minded individuals.  But there is also something about running for a cause higher than oneself.  Whether it is because one feels a personal connection to the cause or whether it just feels good to truly make a difference… it’s something that affects you deep within.  It inspires.  It challenges you to put in that extra effort.  And perhaps that is the best explanation as to why, sometimes, we do what we do.

See you again soon…

The National Multiple Sclerosis Society, Michigan Chapter is pleased and honored to be a Charity Partner for the 5th 3rd River Bank Run 2012! For more than 60 years, the Michigan Chapter has worked towards research and a cure for multiple sclerosis. Now, with more than 18,000 individuals diagnosed with the disease state-wide and more than 1,000 individuals diagnosed in Kent County alone, our work is more important than ever. Multiple sclerosis (MS) is a chronic, often disabling disease that attacks the central nervous system, which is made up of the brain, spinal cord, and optic nerves. Symptoms may be mild, such as numbness in the limbs, or severe, such as paralysis or loss of vision. Our team of runners, walkers, and volunteers is dedicated to finding a cure and creating a world free of MS!

Behind the face of each of our runners is a personal passion. We run because every mother should be able to see her daughter’s face clearly on graduation day. We run because every parent should be able to ride a bike next to their child on a family outing. We run because no one should wake up in the morning wondering how their disease will affect them that day. We run, we walk, we volunteer… because we CAN.

Colleen McLenithan was a very young 28 years of age when she was diagnosed with multiple sclerosis. This was in 1983, and much was still not yet known about the disease. Was it hereditary? Was it triggered by eating certain foods? Were MS-related symptoms worsened by physical exercise? Year after year, Colleen and her family experimented with various methods of dealing with her slowly worsening balance and motor skills. Year after year, Colleen was forced to make compromises as the effects of MS took their toll.

Colleen had always been a strong swimmer and took pleasure teaching her two daughters how to swim. But by the time her third and youngest child was old enough to swim, Colleen was too weak to be able to assist him. Over time, the family was forced to move into a new home as Colleen progressed from using a cane, to crutches, to a wheelchair, and finally to a motorized mobility scooter. At age 14, Colleen’s eldest daughter learned how to transfer her mother on and off her scooter as muscle control and feeling dwindled below the waist. Eventually, a nurse was hired to assist with tasks such as using the restroom and bathing.

Even through all of this, Colleen was somehow able to paint things in a positive light. One day, when her scooter tipped over outside in the yard, she asked her son to bring his toys outside and play with her as she waited for the rest of the family to come home. As her vision slipped away, she would ask her daughters to help her with her make-up and hair so she would look nice for her husband after a long day at work. She made friends in the neighborhood who would stop by and help out with laundry and other tasks. Though her body was weakened, Colleen’s faith was strong that a cure could be found for MS.

Colleen eventually passed away in 1993. She stubbornly hung on long enough to witness the release of the first FDA-approved medication for multiple sclerosis. By this time the medication could not help her condition, but instead of feeling bitterness, Colleen praised the development as a godsend to those newly diagnosed. Finally, in December, she was able to hold her first grandchild in her arms before slipping away on Christmas Day at age 38.

Although she is no longer with us, Colleen continues to inspire. Her daughter Steph is a volunteer team coordinator for the West Michigan Bike MS event and walks 50 miles each year at Door County, Wisconsin’s Challenge Walk MS. Like her mother, Steph’s smile and spirit can light up a room. Like her mother, Steph knows that a cure can be found. And yes: she walks for those who cannot, and so that others may continue to do so.

Much has changed since 1983. Today, more than two hundred and fifty scientists worldwide are working to improve function and find a cure for multiple sclerosis. Today, not one but seven FDA-approved disease-modifying agents give those diagnosed with MS a way to fight their symptoms. And today, the National Multiple Sclerosis Society is the world’s number one source of MS-related research grant money with a $40 million investment in the year 2011 alone. We believe in a world free of MS!

As a participant of the 5th 3rd River Bank Run, we know you are already motivated. Perhaps you have personal goals or simply wish to challenge yourself. Add your passion to ours: help us rid the world of multiple sclerosis forever! Join us as a runner, walker, or volunteer, and help make a difference in the lives of the more than 18,000 individuals diagnosed with this disease in the state of Michigan alone. Together, we can make it happen!