By: Alie Columbus

“Relax. Nothing is under control.”

Adi Da

This quote was shared with me recently by a dear friend. I have begun to make it my mantra as each week seems to bring a new set of accepted normallacies to our culture. Like many others, I have found more gratitude from the adjustments to daily life, short term goals, and long term goals as well. 

I had 2020 all figured out. I had registered and planned my year of races that would challenge me, help me grow, give time for recovery between, and then amp me back up to achieve the goal of the next one. Like most others in our running community, as races started to be canceled, I found myself feeling rebellious and wanting to create groups that would literally ‘run rogue.’ It didn’t take very long to realize that taking the pressure off such a packed year meant more time to work on myself in more important ways that I had been neglecting. Running was becoming a constant challenge of hitting goals I felt required of myself and I lost patience with my own healing, recovery, as well as the targeted growth. 

As a society, we are only into this shift in our lives a few weeks and I imagine we have a long way to go yet. However, every run I get out for, I am more grateful to be outside doing it. I appreciate the spring flowers along the trail side, the seasonal birds returning, and the shift in the air. I went to a favorite spot last weekend for a hilly trail loop and brought my running partner (think 4 paws, a waggy tail, and a tongue hanging out of his smile). I had been working on bettering his manners during runs off leash. But last weekend, I began to wonder if each run would be our last outside run together. I took a step back- both in his training and from my goals for him/us. I wanted us both to just share pure joy and gratitude for the day. 

Having some of those races canceled, allowed me to delve deeper into what brought me to running and what kept me there. I started running to support a friend and challenge myself a bit. I stayed running because it took me to places in and outside of myself that are very reflective  yet also an escape. I stayed running because of the community and friends made along the way. I stayed running because I love the challenge of doing something you never thought possible before. And mostly, I stayed running because the views are freakin’ phenomenal!!!

Finding quiet within and taking the opportunity to hang out with who should be my own best friend (myself) has been enlightening . Do I miss gathering for a meal with friends, running as a group on the greenbelt and trails, HUGS? Absolutely, I do. 

“Nothing is under control”. Isn’t it a relief to not have to strive to make that balance happen but, rather to let it happen?! It is amazing what happens when we accept and appreciate every moment. 

I wish everyone health inside and out and look forward to our time together again soon. Meanwhile, be strong within yourself, weak to lose your joy and hope, and balanced throughout. 

~Alie

By Sara Fry

Viewing the pandemic as a call to slow down and pay attention to the small things… because really the small things are big.

A friend mentioned that they hadn’t realized how over-scheduled they were until COVID-19 closed down all their 5- and 8-year-old’s sports. Suddenly they are home in the evenings, going on walks, playing games together, and eating relaxed meals as a family. Another friend feels like the pandemic is trying to remind humans of how out of sync we are with nature. Seeing photos of the canals in Venice clear for the first time in decades or satellite images showing reduced pollution brings that home and reminds me that the Earth can heal itself if we give it a chance. Slowing down – as a species and in our homes – feels like the perfect description of how I’ve adjusted my running goals.

The probable cancellation of my late-June marathon, Grandma’s Marathon in Minnesota,  and the lack of group runs with the BAR is making it easier to slow down and really pay attention to my body. I’d already decided to run/walk the marathon due to my Achilles tendon. I’m still building up my total time in case the race happens, and if it’s cancelled, I’ll still continue to build up – I’ll just skip the full distance and extra fatigue that comes with it! Getting up to a 20-mile run/walk will still feel like a huge accomplishment. 

Knowing the race may not happen has made it easier to stop focusing on the length of my run intervals. After reading about someone who ran an impressive PR run/walking with 1 mile run intervals followed by 30-steps of walking, I was working towards 1 mile run intervals. I was fine at 0.4, and each week I added 0.05 or 0.1 to my running interval. Somewhere between 0.5 and 0.6 miles, my Achilles started getting annoyed. Now, in contrast, I don’t use my watch to guide how long I run – I pay attention to how I feel. I also pay attention to the possible dog distractions up ahead (if you’ve ever met Emma at a BAR run, you know the threat is real!). If I see ducks or a dog, I start to run and I stop whenever I’m in the mood. The last time I saw my PT, he couldn’t believe how much progress I’d made after being in a stuck point for so long. Maybe I’d have gotten to this spot without knowing my race may be cancelled – but I kind of doubt it!

I know BAR friends have adjusted their running in surprising ways as well. For example, Glenna Toomey viewed the cancellation of the Eugene Half Marathon as an opportunity to get out on trails and reconnect with the joy of running. She ended up running more miles that week than she did when marathon training. Some are running more, others may be running less.

When I think about why I started running somewhat seriously close to three years ago, I wanted to get out and enjoy winter (which is a hard season for me) and have fun with Emma. As Emma has gotten older and Beau has gotten faster, my goal expanded to keep Emma fit and make it easier for Beau to do key runs and not have to be as concerned about helping get the dogs exercise. Slowing down and paying attention has helped me support Emma, too – who is having some arthritic pains that seem to have started just as COVID-19 swept across the US. I’m now keeping a training log for her so we can see if there is a sweet spot with the right mix of activity and rest.

As I look back, I see that I had doubts that I was going to be able to build up to marathon fitness safely given the pain I was having in my Achilles tendon. It’s strange to think that I may be better able to achieve my late-June running goal of being ready for a marathon distance because of slowing down and paying attention. Like Glenna “accidentally” ran higher mileage as she enjoyed the beauty of the foothills in spring and a slowing down from the cognitive demands of her challenging training plan, I am also achieving growth through changing my approach. 

I know we all look forward to a return to life as we knew it before the pandemic led to social distancing and a myriad of other changes to protect our communities, I hope we will all take some lessons with us. Slowing down (it’s a metaphor – you can still run fast!) and paying more attention to our needs, seems worthy of carrying forward.

I must keep reminding myself of this

Come join the Boise Area Runners on May 1-3 at the McCall Outdoor Science School (MOSS) in McCall for a weekend of running, learning, and fun!

The camp is geared for beginning and experienced runners alike. Our goal is to help you improve all aspects of your running. It will feature dynamic presentations and interactive sessions covering:

• Nutrition
• Race planning
• Yoga
• Injury prevention and treatment
• Training
• Running safety
• And much more!

No camp experience would be complete without fun runs, a movie night, and social time to socialize.

Our Spring Training Camp will be held at the University of Idaho’s MOSS campus, located inside Ponderosa State Park. Accommodations will be the campus rustic bunkhouses (think childhood summer camp!). MOSS will provide bottom sheets, but you are required to bring your own bedding, linens, and toiletries. The bunkhouses are heated and quite comfortable and accommodate 8 per room. Please note the bunkhouses are co-ed and individual accommodations may not be possible. If you have questions, please contact the organizers. Recently built bathroom and shower facilities are located on site, so no need to fear a cold shower or bathing in the lake (unless you want to)!

All meals during the camp are provided. When you sign up, be sure to indicate any dietary restrictions (vegetarian/vegan and/or gluten intolerance) and the awesome staff at MOSS will do their best to accommodate.

Come have fun, learn tips to enhance your running at any level, and meet up with a great group of runners!

Space is limited, so register early!

By Matt Edwards

I’m standing in my corral. Some of the world’s best runners are part of the fluorescent mosh pit in front of me. The Chicago skyline shimmers in the sunrise above Grant Park. My eyes well up in reverence of the moment. Good thing I have a meticulously planned outfit for the occasion. 

My running story began in 2008 when Marianna took me for a “date” to the Marjory Stoneman Douglas track, her high school alma mater, in Parkland, Florida, for what was advertised as a “5 mile run”. Little did I know that there was a silent warm up mile and cool down mile that didn’t count toward the stated goal of 5. Afterward, Marianna said, “You’ve got a good enough stride.”

By 2009 I was married to a runner, but far from one myself. I still needed to chase a ball and keep score. I was even desperate enough to play several seasons of ultimate frisbee to fulfill my competitive desires. But my Saturday mornings were still spent reading a book and sipping coffee as Marianna left the house for a long run. I didn’t understand what compelled her to step out the door.

I’m trying not to go too fast. My watch is confused by the labyrinth of skyscrapers. It’s spitting out times that don’t make any sense! Just chill. I’ve done this before. Ride the wave of experienced runners. Listen to your breath. Focus on your stride. Let’s chuck these gloves.

The first race to sink its teeth into me was the 8.6 mile Payette Lake Race in 2012. It was significant before it even began for two reasons: One, it would become the longest race of my life up until that point. Two, I bought my first pair of running shoes. A pair of grey and orange Asics helped give birth to the obsessively coordinated running ensembles.

I ran pretty well, for a guy who still didn’t train. But something about that experience was different. It might have been the pristine beauty of Payette Lake mirroring the pine covered mountains in the early morning sun. It might have been my oxygen deprived brain at over 5,000 ft. It might have been the taste of the post-race whole cone hops. I don’t know. But I think something about how much my feet hurt and how gassed I was at the finish line lingered as the most fulfilling part of the weekend: the feeling of truly giving it all I had. Something I hadn’t felt, or hadn’t pushed myself to, since my high school glory days. 

I’m doing math as I cross each mile marker to check my pace. The mosaic of multinational runners has been ebbing and flowing, but running wisely. I’m halfway through and only 14 seconds off pace. I’m sticking to my plan.

Early in 2013 I joined the BAR. Marianna had been going for a while, and she finally convinced me to show up to a Sunday morning run at Camel’s Back. I was greeted by friendly faces and a place in line going up Kestrel. This weekly run soon became our version of church.

I ran the Payette 8.6 the next fall, this time in New Balances. I entered the race with an experiment in mind: to see if I could imagine myself sustaining that effort for 13.1. I shaved a minute off my time, won a ribbon that reminded me of my ketchup and mustard soccer days, and left McCall knowing I could run a half marathon. 

Screw the math, I’m tired of it. I’m almost to mile 20 and pretty much on pace. Just grind it out from here, but stay chilly. You’re in good shape. A relaxed focus has got you here. Ride it out. Stay in the groove. Breath. But let’s get rid of these arm warmers.

Sure enough, first thing in 2014, Marianna and I picked a half marathon to do together. We settled on the Sun Valley half in early June. That gave us the entirety of five months to prepare. I did whatever Marianna told me to: I ran five days a week for the first time ever. Every Saturday was the longest run of my life. And believe me, my first 16 miler, in a downpour, almost ruined it for me. But, looking back, that run probably decided whether I was going to be a runner or not. The distance and conditions were relative misery, but, on top of that, I was experiencing intense stomach pain. I didn’t say anything to Marianna until we were finished because I knew she would have let me quit. My silence was fueled by my desire to not cut her run short and to avoid wussing out in anyway. And that right there has been the most valuable part about running with others. Whether with Marianna or my BAR-mates, the sense of community helps me give to others while simultaneously benefiting myself.

The Sun Valley Half Marathon came and went…great! I ran with Frank for the first time (we practically held hands for a mile), and I fulfilled my goal of running hard the whole way without losing too much steam by the end. I wore cotton socks for the last time, because of the huge blood blister I earned, I won a decorative dinner plate-thing, but most importantly, I became a runner. I was in.

That fall I returned to McCall for the Payette Lake Race, but this time for the 30k. It was the next notch in the belt, distance-wise, and it gave me great confidence that I could sustain that effort for 26.2. I mean, what’s so hard about running another 7.6 miles, right? 

Last mile. Ignore the calves. Ignore the hip flexors. Post a time those guys have to chase at CIM. Damn, that wind almost knocked me over. 

The spring of 2015 brought me to my first marathon: the Famous Idaho Potato Marathon. I disregarded the advice to run your first marathon ‘just to run it,’ and instead shot for a Boston Qualifying time. I came up short that day, by a few minutes, but somewhere between the satisfaction of staying on pace through 22, feeling like I was in quicksand the rest of the way, fearing my neck would literally snap and let my head skip off the greenbelt and into the Boise River, and the tears I shed after the finish, something impenetrable and eternal happened: I became a marathoner. I did the hardest thing I had ever done, and I knew I had to do it again.

PR. PR. PR. Let’s soak this up and start thinking about New York. 

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By Beau Seegmiller

As many of you know (because I talk about it incessantly), I will be racing in the Berlin Marathon on Sunday, September 29th. This upcoming event has given me pause to reflect on my journey as a runner and as a competitor in the marathon. Berlin will be my twenty-second marathon. I remember it taking me over a decade to be able to run my first marathon. I also remember that the key for me successfully completing the preparation necessary to finish that first marathon happened because of a running club and the leadership a wonderful set of coaches provided. 

I suffered from post-concussion syndrome through my early twenties. While in that condition I wasn’t able to run much at all; however, I remember when some of the symptoms (headaches, extreme fatigue, and general body pains) started to recede I began to train and run more intensely. When I could run four miles without any negative effects, I set my sights on a half-marathon. I trained and had a great first half marathon in Logan, Utah. While at the finish area of this small race, I noticed a big to do over a runner who had qualified for a particular marathon (I don’t remember which one). I recall that being the first time I considered running a marathon myself (at the young age of 24). 

I am not sure when I first decided to start training for a marathon, but I do remember buying The Complete Book of Running and following the wisdom and training plans it held. I decided to try the intermediate plan and soon injured my knee. I couldn’t even bend it for a week. A few years passed and I had moved to Shoshone, Idaho when I attempted a second time. I got a little further along that same plan when I suffered from an inexplicable bout of joint inflammation that sidelined me again. A few years later, while back in Logan, Utah for graduate school, I made the attempt again. This time I got to the 16 mile long run and within 10 weeks of the race when hamstring tendonitis put me out. At this point I accepted that I would run for health and well-being. So much so that I started to focus on power lifting and became a gym rat until the itch to run that 26.2 mile race surfaced again in my consciousness.

This time around I thought I needed to find a way to circumnavigate those seemingly inevitable injuries. By 2005 the internet was in place, so I used Google and discovered that coaching and clubs can be invaluable resources to preparing for a race like the marathon. Living in the Phoenix metropolitan area I had an array of choices. I settled on Phoenix Fit which had about a hundred members, five coaches, and a basic training plan that would get me ready for the PF Chang’s Rock and Roll marathon the following January. All for a cool $90 (I even got a shirt)! The club met once a week for Saturday long runs and had informational seminars on various running topics the half hour prior to the run. 

I ran and trained. I discovered that I loved running with people. I hadn’t run with people since high school cross country. The coaches were very informative and so supportive. Yet, those injuries started to come back. This time both knees and my right soleus became inflamed and angry. I thought I was doomed. The difference this time? I was surrounded by people and coaches who had been through these injuries before and knew treatment approaches: icing, stretches, and strength exercises that worked. It wasn’t long before I was running the first few miles of my first marathon way too fast and high on the joy of being in a race I had failed to reach in over a decade. After completing the last 6 miles of hell and in pain I had never experienced before, I relished the feeling of having completed a marathon.  

As I celebrated reaching this lifetime benchmark with my running club in the finish area, my thoughts went back to that first attempt at training for a marathon over ten years earlier. I felt that I was finally home. I had become the person I always wanted to be, the person I actually had been all along, just now in full bloom. I was a runner. 

What was the difference? In one word: community: a community that would not have been possible without the organization and leadership of those in the Phoenix Fit running club. The club was open to everyone and discoverable to strangers like me. Running is interwoven into the very fiber of every aspect of my being. I run to become who I am. Without Phoenix Fit, my journey would have been very different.

Fast forward to my move to the Boise area. First item on my agenda was to find a running group. The BAR was the first group I discovered and the last that I considered (Five group runs a week! Who can beat that?). After a year of involvement, the BAR was in need of new leadership. It was time for me to give back, to pass on the gift I had been given by the Phoenix Fit running club. 

Serving as the president of the BAR for almost four years now has been one of the great joys in my life. As a non-profit organization the BAR depends on volunteer leadership to function and provide the services it does (those five group runs and the like don’t happen on their own). I have been privileged to see the many contributions other BAR members have made in that time. I have also received as much or more than I have given. 

As we begin accepting nominations for the 2020 leadership team in the BAR, I invite you to consider giving back through taking on a leadership role in the BAR. You can nominate yourself (or get a friend to do it) here: https://forms.gle/RnmYq5AJs84H3Zfw9. Consider the different positions and offices where you might fit best. The period for open nominations ends at the conclusion of the General Membership Meeting on Sunday, October 27th.

More importantly, please take a moment and consider what this BAR tribe has meant to you and your running. How can you pay that forward to the next runner? What contributions can you make? 

With that, I sincerely hope to see you out on a run!

Beau