Perspective

As progress is made, the scope through which we view the world changes in a remarkable way. This is especially apparent in running where things that were once so profound are now a regular occurrence. Mileage and hours are the measures by which I see this change. The change does not only occur in the physical world but in the mind as well. My perspective that was once impressed by a 5 mile run, is now viewing that same run as an easy/recovery day. The mental capacity that has developed during this transformation is astounding.

Everyone has the opportunity to make this change, both physically and mentally. Yours does not have to be made through running, but something that inspires you. It may be running, it may not be. I recommend a physical vehicle by which you make this change, because nothing mutates mental circuits like physical adversity. Challenge yourself, make a gradual change. Don't start by looking at the macro-view, but the micro-view. The small changes made on a daily basis will materialize into large differences at a later time. Once you have reached that later time, you will be amazed at how far you have come and how the metamorphosis required to reach that particular point has affected you. Outlook is more important than output. The magnitude of your mind's perspective on life and the attitude in which you approach it will easily trump any single physical effort. The physical effort is merely the catalyst for the development of that particular outlook. Single-digit miles will soon turn to double-digit miles, minutes measured with soon turn into hours measured. Improvement is inevitable with the right perspective.

Achievement and Adventure

Adventure is relative. Always. Relative to the moment, the person, the situation. What one constitutes as an adventure may be be a routine walk out the door for another. We all live in our own bubble of experience with varying fears, desires, and attitudes. The more people I speak with about the outdoors, the more this fact is evident to me. On one hand, I've experienced the mountaineer, gearing up for her trip to summit Mount Everest in the spring. On the other hand I've spoken with the stay at home mom, lacing up her shoes for the first time in a long while, attempting a 3 mile jaunt along the nature trail in her community. Both of these instances are relatively adventurous for their respective participants. Everyone starts and ends in a different place dependent on personal exposure, willingness, and motivation. That's not to say one is better or worse, just different. The sense of accomplishment found from each adventure is what really matters. There is always someone doing something more extreme or more "outdoorsy" than you. The point is not to meet or exceed their expectations, but your own. Achievement is relative. Relative to the moment, the person, the situation. In the end, it is not about the pursuit itself, but about the mentality in which it was pursued and the resultant change in mentality after it was accomplished. Confidence, inspiration, discipline. Real, deep, internal change is what we need to pursue, not some arbitrary standard. That's not to say that the pursuit of some standard will not achieve some lasting transformation. Having an objective is not unwarranted in the pursuit of constant metamorphosis. The trials of an attempt at an ultra marathon consistently leave me with a new sense of pride and confidence that I didn't have before. I've always been a confident person, but evolution says there is always more to be had. Every mile underfoot sheds new light on what I am able to accomplish, and honestly changes my perspective on what I previously thought possible. This is where the relativity piece comes in. I am not so naive as to believe that I'm achieving something amazing, but I am aware that I'm forging real alterations in my attitude toward possibility. The achievement of progress is contingent to the individual. A goal is important because it gives you something to strive for. However, at the risk of sounding cliche, it is not the destination but the journey that matters. The internal changes (mental and physical) that will occur with relentless pursuit of progress are invaluable to a life well-lived. Make change by consummating something real and measurable that is important to you. Find your Mount Everest or your ultra marathon and make it happen. Overcoming the day-to-day tribulations in pursuit of a valuable goal will make you feel alive and free, like the world is at your fingertips. Don't find excuse or problems, find solutions. Barriers are negative and they are only there to be broken down. Find a way around your perceived limitations and do something great everyday.

Humility. Grace. Love.

For a time during my sophomore year of college I had obsessed over running. This came after a short stint with triathlon, then cycling, after which I'd decided I didn't have time to ride my bike for 6 hours a day (if I wanted to have any measure of success in any other area of my life, including a regular job). Anyway, during this time of running obsession I was still disillusioned into thinking I was a decent runner in his "base-building" phase, where going slow was mantra. I did perform several "faster" pace runs (9-10:00/mile), if only to further convince myself that I could pipeline myself into a faster runner, given the right training. It was during this time that I had heard about the local high school cross-country race course. The course meandered around the perimeter of the elementary school property, making roughly two laps around the hilly fields surrounding the school. I had yet to really run with anyone, and although the people around me viewed me as a great runner (mostly due to my obsessive discussion about the sport and my pursuit of it), no one had really ever witnessed my performance. At the time, I was also doing what everyone does when they are excited about a pursuit, that is, I was expounding the virtues of running and insisting that if only everyone ran, we could solve the world's problems (not literally, but that must have been what it seemed like for those around me). My father, at the time, had been looking to start getting back into exercising, having been getting out the door for long walks around our development. He had been out of the gym for several years, mostly due to his never-ending pursuit of his job and his relentless work-ethic. He worked endless hours at all times of the day, just so he could provide a wonderful life for our family. After a 16-hour day and a week of on-call wake-ups at 2AM, there wasn't much time for exercise. He was never absent as a father and sacrificed so much of himself to make sure that his family never wanted for anything. A real man, a real hero. Despite the jam-packed workweeks, my father did find some spare time and insisted that he was going to pursue an activity regimen. I was extremely excited that he was going to do so, mainly due to the health benefits resulting from said routine, but also because I might be able to share in my pursuit of running. The day finally came when I convinced my father to come for a run with me. The course would be none other than the local cross country course. For, me at the time, it was a shorter run (3.1 miles), but for my father, it would be a milestone. The day was an October afternoon, temperature in the 50's, overcast, dry. We drove down to the course and took a lap in the car around the parking lots to view our prospective route. He was agreeable to the run, although hesitant, as this would be his first foray into the jogging world. He explained that he might need to walk some and slow down a bit, which I told him was OK, as I would probably be in the same boat. He insisted that I not wait for him, and to just run the course however I wanted. This hadn't been my plan because I truly wanted to enjoy this outing with my father. I felt that this run was like riding the razor's edge for hime. That little tipping point where you either love what just happened to you and keep at it, or you hate it, thus beginning the demise of any interest you might have had. I so badly wanted him to enjoy running. I was already seeing the possibilities of his pursuit... The course starts at the bottom of a 400m hill that then rolls over into a flat circumnavigation of the school before taking a dive back down a long hill on the opposite side of the property, only to connect back with the starting area of the course. We were going to complete two laps of the route. We parked at the top, in a parking area, walked/jogged down to the bottom for a warmup, then proceeded to line up at the 'start' after a short break. My plan had been to jog slowly with my father (who was I kidding, I was going to go slowly regardless). The first hill was pretty steep, but I figured with all my training, I could muster the power to get up it and continue running. We started to run, and no sooner had we taken off that I accelerated into a full sprint, starting up the hill more rapidly than my father could keep up. What. An. ASSHOLE. I was doing the exact opposite of what I set out to do, and I knew it. I was pushing harder and harder, leaving my father in the dust. I was well aware that he was behind me, suffering up this terrible hill. Instead of remaining at his side, supportive, I showed him my back. I turned on him when he may have need me most. How discouraging for him. I kept at my pace, fueled by an ego-driven, demonic obsession to never be the weak one. I had such a Napoleon complex about my endurance running that I couldn't even let my own father see me as a weak link in the game of athletics. I was so self-centered that I would sacrifice my own father's emotions to build my ego. I don't know what I was hoping to prove by running so fast. I am certain that it wasn't about "winning" or finishing before him. I'm sure it wasn't about "hitting a pace" for my workout. I just couldn't let myself be viewed as a lesser being. Maybe I figured that if I got far enough ahead of him, he wouldn't notice when I slowed down. I don't know. Whatever the reason, the action is EMBARRASSING. I am truly ashamed of my actions. I was ashamed at the time, but too proud to admit it. I don't even remember the rest of the run. I knew what I had done. In the back of my mind, that action was so powerful, clouding all other thought from entering my mind. EGO. Pure EGO. I have struggled with the events from this particular day for years now. I occasionally remember the ACTION, feeling remorseful each time. I didn't have the HUMILITY to help my father appreciate his first foray into speedy locomotion. I lacked the GRACE to allow myself to remain at his side and encourage him through the hard times. My father hasn't run since that day. I don't know if it was because of my actions. But I wouldn't be surprised if it was. He has gotten back to the gym and ensued healthy habits for himself, of which I am extremely proud. But he hasn't RUN. Now, I don't care if he runs, rides, lifts, picks, eats, farts, whatever. As long as he is healthy and happy. I love my father, and it doesn't make a difference to me what he does, as long as he will be around for a long time to come. Its not about the running itself. Its the contingency that my actions may have been the push he needed, in the wrong direction of the razor's edge. I ran with Samantha yesterday. One of the first times we have run together without agreeing to "meet at the end" due to our different paces. She ran WITH me, showing HUMILITY and GRACE during the times when I needed to slow down. I am ashamed that I did not previously have this innate capacity to be loving and gracious to others, despite how it might make me look in the moment. We are all here together, to support each other when needed most. Don't let SELF get in the way of OTHERS. I've never spoken to my father about that day, and he has never made mention of my speedy takeoff, so I don't know the true implications. This passage was very difficult to write. It has taken me years to recognize what my actions signify about me. While cathartic, the expression of these events brings me to tears because I am so contrite of my conduct during that run. I've learned from that day lessons that I wish didn't have to be learned. In the end, I am better for it. My father and I have an excellent relationship, and he has never made me feel any negative emotion regarding the takeoff. I love you, Dad. Thanks for the run.

Mountain Training

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Ln-D-56bqfAThis is a short video from my training today. This was a 60 minute sustained Power Hike @ 80-85% Max Heart Rate, followed by an easy descent. I increased the pace on flats and downhills to keep the heart rate where I needed it. You can view all of my training info on STRAVA, which is linked to the right of this post. Today's training was on the Appalachian Trail out of the Delaware Water Gap, on the New Jersey side. The distance totaled 5.6 miles. It was raining, slippery, and muddy. It was also humid, approximately 65 degrees. I used trekking poles for the uphills, holding them in one hand on all the short running sections during the climb. I packed them away in my Ultimate Direction "Peter Bakwin Adventure Vest" on the way down. I tested some fueling options today, since the effort was going to take me over an hour. I tried the Clif Bar "Kids Bar" about 35 minutes in. I only ate half the bar because I wanted to keep moving. I will have to try more of these as I do longer efforts later in the season. Clif Bars in general have sat well with me during longer duration stuff in the past, so we will see what this summer holds. I drank about 1 bottle total from the vest, which worked very well for transporting hydration, rain shell, and other essentials. The theme in my iPod today was Trail Runner Podcast on the climb, and music on the way down, to include "Mountain Men" by Erik the Red and "Welcome Home" by Radical Face. Enjoy the video. It got cut off at the end, but I was just about to say "Overall a good day".

Training Partners

Running for me has always been a solo pursuit, mainly because I was embarrassed about the pace at which I ran. Simply going for a jog with someone ended up as a painful ego blow where I was left behind or had to come up with some excuse why I had to stop and walk momentarily ("My stomach is giving me issues today"). When you talk to people and they find out you are a runner, often they inevitably say "we should go for a run together". For me, this usually involves a polite agreement for some unknown time in the future (I'll figure out how to avoid it later). I'm a reasonably fit guy with the physical appearance to match, so people assume that I'm a fast runner who they will have to keep up with. I've recently had a friend (an avid and accomplished runner) tell me that she didn't want to start posting on Strava.com because she wanted to get a little faster before she made it public. She used me as an example and said that compared to me she'd be embarrassed to post any runs. I said "I'm sure you'll be fine and have nothing to be embarrassed about". However, the ego wouldn't let me divulge any official times in the moment. It's better left to mystery...

I'm usually pretty successful at avoiding running with others, typically with some lame excuse or other obligation. I've only ever run with people who are close to me, and usually avoid group runs, etc. My wife, Samantha has been a solid partner in training and consistently supportive of whatever pace I need to run on the day. She is aware of my deficiencies, without speaking of them and remaining supportive throughout. Our dog, Bullet is always a reliable training partner, always eager to get out the door for a jaunt through the mountains. Most recently, a good friend of mine, Joel has signed up for the same ultramarathon that my wife and I will be running. Joel has been a dedicated runner in the past, and although he says he's slow, I feel he may not be giving himself credit. Truthfully, I was hesitant to agree to training with Joel on some runs, but the more I relish in the catharsis of making my inadequacies public, the more comfortable I am with a training partner besides my wife and dog. I am honestly looking forward to running with Joel and pursuing this thing. He's a genuine guy and I trust that his critique will be minimal if any, and always positive.

The more running I do, the more I realize how much I love it. I didn't love it in the past because I felt like a lesser being afterward because I could only keep a below average pace (something I wasn't used to because I'm consistently above average in other areas). Running as of late has become a very enjoyable experience for me because I'm allowing myself to go as slow as I need to. I've been using a heart rate monitor and going at whatever pace allows my specific heart rate for that session. I'm finally letting the run happen as opposed to fighting the pace and trying to push harder, which inevitably leads to vomiting or walking.

Ultramarathon

So now that this thing is started and publicly displayed, I will start to delve into my prospects for the future. I've always been fascinated with endurance. Thats probably because I never had any and it seemed so far out of reach and unattainable. There was always an allure for people who could run in what seemed like an effortless manner, then just keep going. Forever. Me? I would amble a few yards and suck wind like I had just been held under the ocean for 10 minutes. What was it about these people that made it so easy and smooth? Fascinating... It wouldn't be until my late teens that I actually started to run with some modicum of success (i.e. could run for more than a minute at a time). Following the repair of my heart, I decided to start taking advantage of some of this newfound capacity. Granted, this capacity simply allowed me to ascend a flight of stairs without stopping for a break in the middle, but nonetheless, it was exponentially more than I had before. I will never forget my first mile. It was on a treadmill in my parents basement. The mill faced into the corner (only God knows why it was positioned that way), with concrete walls providing only the most entertaining scenery for a jaunt on the human rat wheel. My father was doing some work in the basement while I was "running" (4.0 MPH, 1.5% grade) on the treadmill. I felt pretty good considering how long I had been at it. My memories of the mile run consisted of that thing I plodded through in elementary school during the annual "running of the buffaloes" around the makeshift track that my private school had. I was always the last finisher, having walked most of it, with my times somewhere upwards of 20 minutes. I remember the gym teacher having stopped her stopwatch several minutes before I jaunted into the group. When she saw me she told me that she will just put me down for having "completed" the distance. No time was ever mentioned. So there I was, droning along at a measly 4.0 MPH (in my mind I was running like the wind, because I had never gone so fast for so long), my dad only a few steps away. About 15 minutes later I heard the "beep" on the mill that I had reached a mile. What?!?! I ran a MILE? I couldn't believe it. I shouted to my dad who knowingly nodded and smiled, recognizing this milestone of an achievement. I remember the hug that was exchanged. It felt like I was being congratulated for having climbed Mount Everest. I was hooked. I remember continuing to run on the treadmill for several months after that (outside was too intimidating), having slowly worked myself up to two miles at a time, still staring at that concrete wall. The wall and its misery became a kind of meditation for me. Something I was proud of. I could stare at a wall, running, in the dark basement. I was a MACHINE... Over the next couple years, into early college, I experienced an on again, off again relationship with running. I would occasionally do it to keep up my "cardio", having succumbed to a bodybuilding lifestyle in the meantime. Big and buff was the mantra, and cardio only served to keep my leanness (I'm pretty lean as it is, the "cardio" was more of an obligation fueled by the bodybuilding credo). Slowly, I delved into the endurance sports community, starting with mountain biking, then running and cycling during my freshmen and sophomore year in college. I even did a triathlon (an obsession for another post), making the short sprint distance my first organized endurance event. To date, this remains the only formally organized event that I have ever done. Over those years, I remained intrigued by the ultra endurance athletes in various disciplines, including cycling, mountain biking, and running. They were superhuman. Running 24 hours straight? WTF?!? I wanted that. I wanted to rank myself among them. I don't know why it has taken me this long to do so (might be a realization I come to as this progresses), but I am finally going to pursue an ultramarathon. The Blues Cruise 50K is my outlet of choice this year. My wife will be running it with me. We will be training together, separate, whatever our schedules allow. The race is on October 6th 2013 www.bluescruiseultra.com. It is on trails, around Blue Marsh Lake in Reading, Pennsylvania. Thus begins my destiny...

Why Now?

I've never been one to advertise my genetic weakness, or even admit to it. I've never wanted anyone aware of my lack of capacity in relation to physical performance. I've spent years training and honing my physicality in various disciplines in order to outwork my given detriment. Actually, what I was doing was focusing on the things that I was NOT weak at. Things like climbing, weightlifting, and academics. I inherently avoided what I sucked at, always coming up with a lame excuse to avoid those things. Things like running, cycling, or endurance in general. That's not to say I didn't do endurance. I did, at times, pursue running, cycling, and even triathlon quite obsessively. During those times I would embark on a run or a ride solo, delusional that I was pacing at a competitive level (I was in reality, very slow). I did lots of "Long Slow Distance" stuff, because I lacked the capacity to actually GO FAST and it was easier to convince myself that I was in a "base-building" phase, where going slow was OK. Despite my relative lack of speed, I could certainly suffer for a long time, sometimes riding up and down mountains for 8-10 hours at a time, and even running up to 20 miles on trails. Don't be fooled though, my mileages and times were certainly lacking in comparison. I can count on one hand the number of times I was accompanied by someone on these ventures, which I credit to what I thought was an invalidity and my reluctance to expose it. So, why do I now choose to admit my gift, accept what is mine, and start to live honestly? Because only if I accept what God has given me, then I can truly express my potential through what He has given me. It has been my ego that keeps my "weakness exposure" in check. However, I've fooled myself into thinking that someone actually cares if I run at a 12:00 mile pace, or if I can only ride a bike at a certain speed, etc. Well, I'm not that important. No one cares about the time. People recognize the EFFORT, and the ATTITUDE, more than anything. As Mark Twight says, "The mind is primary". I'm ready to embrace my defect, take advantage of my strengths (to include mentality), and pursue the impossible. Persistence, Resistance, Perseverance.

ULTRA

It is my hope that this page will serve as a vehicle for my expression of the pursuit of several goals I'd like to accomplish in my life. These particular goals are all physical in nature and mostly revolve around outdoor sports. The goals may evolve as I progress, as we are all constantly evolving. However, they will not be modified to a lesser degree than they were originally set. I aim to avoid a distorted perspective on me, and I hope that through my willing exposure of my genetic gift others will be inspired to seek their objective, despite any perceived barriers. The only limits are those you create. The only thing standing in your way is you. No excuses, seriously. To start this off right, I feel I should finally be honest to the world about what I've been given. Quick recap of the last 28 years of my life: I was born with Tetralogy of Fallot with Pulmonary Atresia, a congenital defect that seriously impacts the function of my heart. For the first 15 years of my life I couldn't walk up the stairs without taking a break. I would turn blue whenever I ran more than 100 meters or so. I've passed out, vomited, and cried, all because of overexertion doing things that are normally considered a warmup activity. At 7 years old I got endocarditis (a bacterial growth inside the heart) that almost killed me and decreased my heart function even more. At 14, I got endocarditis again, further decreasing cardiac function and bringing me close to death for a second time. At 15, I had open-heart surgery to repair the defect, during which I went into congestive heart failure, experienced a pseudo aneurysm, and had a traumatic extubation causing me to lose my voice for 4 months. I had two more repairs performed over the remainder of my teens, and now receive regular cardiology consults regarding the management of my case. During all of this, I became fascinated with the abilities of athletes in various disciplines, mostly revolving around the outdoor an endurance sports scene. I pursued several of these activities as a way of recreation and a way to test my own limits, both physically and mentally. This page is my story as it stands now and in the future. I will reach my goals. Persistence, Resistance, Perseverance. Current Stats: VO2Max - 37ml/kg/min Max Heart Rate - 167 1 Mile Time Trial - 8:43 Pullups - 28 5 Minute Snatch Test 24kg - 87 reps Handstand Pushups - 32 Deadlift - 365lbs