Ten Tips for Recharging Your Batteries

As you might gather from the title of the post, this was a hellacious week. Beset by smoke from the fires, I've barely run in two weeks. The junior high cross country team had to run indoors. A client made a mistake regarding scheduling, led to an anxiety attack Friday and a fourteen hour day yesterday. I worked more than I should, play less than I needed, and I'm tottering around out of balance because of it.

So today, I'm being lazy. I need a chance to bleed off the stress and recharge. Here's my top ten ways of doing so.

1. Go for a run. You knew this would be at the top of the list. If there is a single human activity that can match a leisurely jaunt to help me relax, I haven't found it. John Ratey, in his book Spark, described how the effect of running is as effective as medications for depressed people.  If you haven't read the book, I highly recommend it. I liked it enough to buy five copies - and gave them to district superintendent, the principals, and the put one in the library. They like me anyhow, but it cemented my reputation for being a touch odd.

2. Read a book. Not a surprise, either. Depending on the type of recharging I need, I might invest some time in reading a four or five novels of the mindless entertainment variety, or perhaps a deeper classic. The classics get broken out when I need to challenge the brain but the body is weary. The thrillers and sci-fi come out when I need mental vacations. If I'm recharging, I generally avoid non-fiction.

3. Food and a glass of wine. Not recommended for the under-21 crowd, at least the wine part, but comfort food helps by being a touchstone to times that had a little less going on. The wine I enjoy and it's relatively safe from a gout perspective, provided I don't over-indulge.

4. A long drive with the right soundtrack. I love to drive, have ever since I had a moped when I was young and in college. I outgrew the moped pretty quickly, but I put 10,000 miles on it first and explored all sorts of alleys in San Diego. I usually relax/drive at night and let the mind wander while keeping an eye out for the deer.

5. Garden. Not yardwork, mowing or weeding. I like to plant things and watch them grow. Working with the soil grounds me (sorry, couldn't help myself) and I find I slow down and absorb more through my senses. I grow vegetables and have some fruit trees that I pick based on how well they respond to benign neglect. This year, the garden has not produced much for us but kept the deer well nourished.

6. Long, slow walks. Best done with company, in nature. Meander, stop to watch a bird or the flow of a river. Breathe.

7. Volunteer. Cross country season is back and I get to hang out with a great bunch of junior high runners. They're at that fun age where they've temporarily lost their brains but the enthusiasm levels are through the roof. I volunteer with them because I'm selfish and it makes me feel great. Another awesome group to hang out with are seniors as they value every single second. Find someone to help, share some love.

8. A good movie or show. Sometimes, life as a couch potato is exactly what the mental health doctor recommends. You get to define what's good, by the way. If you're in the mood for explosions and outer space, fire up the Star Wars franchise. Need to cry (ahem, just saying, not that I, manly as I am, would resort to a tear-jerker movie), put in Terms of Endearment.

9. Do a favorite activity. I don't write this blog for pay (I would, but nobody has offered.) I write for pleasure. The novels, once written, are widgets that I sell, but in the act of creation, the writing is a source of joy. You might find that doing jigsaw puzzles or pulling weeds (love it when my Mom visits!) or cleaning. Recharging doesn't necessarily mean flopping over and doing nothing. It's includes activity that refreshes. So today's post isn't work, it's play.

10. Solitude. For an introvert, which I definitely am, a solid week of helping people exhausts the emotional energy stores. Selecting "None of the above" and just enjoying some alone time can make all the difference. Yoga, mediation, prayer all play into this.

So, Anybody Ever Wanted to Run Across Ohio?

K.P. Kelly is running across the state of Ohio next week. While Ohio is one of the Mid-Western States, and a little on the smallish side compared to say, Montana, it’s still an impressive feat. A fast disclaimer – my longest ever run is 101.43 miles. K.P. is doing about 2.5 times that much.

Boggles your mind? Read on. He’s doing it for a pretty cool cause. (Interview was done electronically and I’m hoping that K.P. has time to add some new comments. Mine will get interjected in between.)

 1.     Let’s start with the big question – you’re about to run a ridiculous distance. How far and why? I will be running 250 miles, from the Ohio River in Cincinnati, OH to Lake Erie in Cleveland, Ohio.  Last year, I ran this same course, and did it over six days, stopping each night to sleep.  I ran last year to raise support for terminally ill children.  This year, I am running for Get Fit Ohio, a new organization I co-founded. Unlike last year, I am not stopping over-night.  I will run (and walk a bit) for 72 straight hours, without sleep, and with carrying all of my gear on my back.

(Yikes. I now officially feel like a slacker.)

2. What got you started on your non-profit journey?  My first nonprofit was Share 4 Kids. We grant and share wishes of terminally ill children. I’ve also served on the Board of Directors of several non-profits, and help to brand and market other non-profits.  I find my life has more meaning when the work I do and the way in which I spend my time has more meaning. Spending time working with non-profits is a way to utilize my skills, ability, and my passion, for a greater good.

(Married to someone working in the non-profit sector, I understand the motivations of the folks that work so hard for very few dollars – though great satisfaction.)

3. You’re also an entrepreneur. How do you balance your time? After all, none of these are easy tasks. That is always a challenge. People never believe this about me, but the truth is that I am not naturally an organized person nor someone that time management comes easily to.  I have had to work at it.  I experiment with different ways to be more efficient, find systems that work for me, then do the best I can to stick to them,  I am not sure if balance is ever achieved, and perhaps it is not meant to be achieved. We are always leaning one way or the other. I make sure to always put people first, and go from there. At the end of the day, if I just keep pushing forward, every task gets done.

(Oh good. I thought I might be the only one with time management issues and balance problems. Looks like we have the same first instinct—take care of people first.)

4. So how did you plan your training for your run? Honestly, I piece together my training here and there.  I am not a natural runner. I don’t have a strict plan.  There really is not a way to adequately train for something like this.  I could have trained a bit better. I could be in better shape. I wish I was a bit healthier. But in the end, nothing prepares for this.  I’ve done a lot of 30 mile runs. I’ve averaged over 100 miles per week the past 2 months.  My focus has been on training to do the first 100 miles as strong as I can, and then just hold on and survive after that.

 5. What kind of plans do you have for fueling, shoe changes, etc? Do you have a crew?  I don’t have a crew. I intended to have a crew following in an RV so that I had all my supplies, did not have to carry anything, and I could shower quickly and change frequently.  Plans for that fell through.

 What I will be doing is carrying about 20lbs with me. I will have a change of shoes, several pairs of socks, clothes, first aid, my food, and all the water I can carry. I will refuel anytime I come across a gas station or store and buy Gatorade. 

 I do have people coming out a few times on the run to change out my supplies.  Our Get Fit Ohio Nutritional Director, Mary, will be with me for a portion of the run, at night, driving alongside to allow me some time to run without carrying all the gear. That will be helpful. 

 I will change my socks every few hours, and rotate my shoes every 2-3 hours.  My food/fuel is being supplied by Great Race Nutrition. Most of my diet will be gels, but I will stop along my run to purchase some food.  It is a challenge to get in all of the calories. I need to be eating around 7,000 calories per day on the run.  It will be more of a challenge being alone for most of it and carrying my own gear, but I am actually looking forward to that; being self-dependent, just me and the road.

6. Last question. How do people go about supporting you? We will have our website up Monday, which will show the live updates along my run.  The best thing to do for now is to connect with our Facebook Page, http://www.facebook.com/GetFitOH We will be posting updates there and ways to support. Our GoFundMe is http://www.GoFundMe.com/FitCleRun   The donations have been much lower than anticipated so far, but the cause has been received tremendous attention and is being shared and talked about all over social media, which will ultimately help us in helping families in need.

Runners Aren't Solitary

The idea of the solitary runner, devoted to the sport like a monk to his order or committed to it like a convict, depending on whether you favor Once a Runner or The Loneliness of the Long Distance Runner, runs counter to the actual evidence.

Both stories, one American, one British, involve the isolation of the individual and the starkness of the decisions that they make as runners. That makes for compelling fiction but falls short in expressing the runners as actually exist. Mind you, this is not a complaint against either—fiction writing, by its nature, dramatizes and expands the human experience. These books did both outstandingly well by focusing on a single aspect, the solitariness of their paths and the determination to trod it in their own fashion.

That doesn’t describe the majority of us. For evidence, I point to the large number of running groups that gather weekly to run together, train together, and race together. The truth is that running is a communal activity, one that probably is hard-wired into our genes. In Born to Run, Chris McDougall recounts the stories of the African Bushmen on the hunt, the Tarahumara playing their running games, and the incredible sight of one of the best ultrarunners in the world, Scott Jurek, standing wrapped in a blanket to cheer on the last finisher.

Even Micah True, aka Caballo Blanco, the ultimate loner, jumped in to pace the Tarahumara at Leadville and later organized the races that would become famous in the book, not for himself, but for the villages in the Copper Canyons.

Less extreme examples make an appearance every weekend in a town close to you. If the local running group isn’t out for a training run, they’re out racing or helping organize a fundraiser of a race. After that comes the gathering for coffee, if not a full breakfast.

We don’t always run in packs, the way cyclists do, but we give each other encouragement on the trails, quick smiles or an honest “Great job!” on passing. We wave, and yes, we try to figure out who’s faster. It’s human nature.

This comes to mind because cross country practice has begun, and I have a new generation of kids that I’m coaching. Already I can see them starting to bond. For the returnees, the first day of practice is like stretching a muscle memory, remembering how this team, this community, practices and plays together.

Kids that I’ve heard slam each other with insults in the hallways unabashedly cheer on their teammates during the practices. Soon, they will do the same at the races. They also cheer on the other team, which I think is a unique feature of running. When Duke played Wisconsin for the NCAA Championship, I don’t think anyone cheered for both at the same time, yet I see people and runners do it all the time at local cross country races.

Someone once said, and I have unfortunately forgotten who, that English is a wonderful language because it has words for both alone and solitude. Running, cross country racing, is similar.

It’s a solitary activity that most people do with a group, a race that we want to win and want the other bloke to do well.

Run gently, friends. Give a shout out to the next runner you meet – he or she is part of your tribe, after all.

'Like the Wind' Readers

Thank you very much for taking the time to visit my website. Feel free to look around and to comment. Please note I'm a family-friendly blog, so no scaring the children with bad language, okay?

As a Thank You! I've put my two novels, both ebook and paper, on sale until the end of September (a bit long on the timeframe as I know my copy of the magazine takes a bit of time to arrive.)

The second kindest thing you can do for an author is to leave a review at the location you purchased the book and to tell others about the story.

The kindest is, obviously, to purchase the book in the first place. My great thanks to all of you that do. You have no idea how much I appreciate it.

Run gently, friends.

Paul Duffau

I'll Figure It Out on the Way Down

Putting a gun to your head is the most stark example of a decision with either/or consequences I can think of. No, I'm not suicidal, just exercising the authorial right to hyperbole to frame a discussion. Ready?

Everyone reaches a point, or points, in their lives where stark decisions mean turning everything upside down. Not the where-shall-go-to-college-type of decisions or what's-for-dinner. Those come with built-in recoveries, easily implemented. Sad you didn't get into Yale, but there's a plethora of choices that exist below that. It's not potentially irrecoverable. Also, it wasn't your decision to make; that call goes to Yale after you apply.

Earlier this week, I mentioned that I am worried about taking two months off from my business and disappearing into the Great Rift Valley. For background, I run a one-person business, doing inspections for homebuyers and sellers. My income, while I'm in Kenya, is going to drop to zero. That doesn't worry me; savings accounts exist for a reason.

What does worry me is the thought that the people that I serve will evaporate while I'm gone. Certainly, they will need to find other providers during that period. I expect that, and I deliberately structured the trip to take place during the slowest part of the season, both to minimize the income destruction, as well as to limit the inconvenience to my friends that I work with.

Having my income drop to zero, period, forever, would be a mite troubling, and the possibility, though slight (in my not so humble opinion), exists. I could get another job, or create one, but the truth is that I genuinely enjoy helping people in the homebuying process. It also provides me with a reasonable income, flexibility to write and run, and intellectual stimulation.

I should also mention that I dislike uncertainty. Not the kind that comes with a small business on a ten-day cycle because I know that if I show up every day, do a good job, protect my clients, and treat everybody fairly and with respect, I will have new work as I need it.

What happens, then, when I don't show up?

The standard I set above was recoverable. Is this a decision, if made incorrectly, I can recover from? When you reframe the question from "Will bad things happen?" to a different proposition, can I adapt if it goes wrong, it changes the complexion of the problem. In my experience, the most resilient individuals are those that have the knack of redefining an issue to make it more manageable, rather than bemoaning the issue/disaster/end-of-the-world and freezing in place.

The other skill that resilient people bring is an acceptance of both the risk and the work necessary to achieve recovery. Nobody likes change. In fact, our brains are hard-wired against it. We are genetically pre-programmed with a default position for survival which is why so many people put up with abusive spouses, or horrid employment conditions, or ill-health (of the non-disease/genetic variety.) While not pleasant, in the context of survival, the conditions are tolerable.

Image courtesy of Public Domain Pictures.net.

So, I don't have an answer for what will happen when I return from Kenya. Sometimes you just have to take a chance and launch. I did it when, at 17, I asked my wife to marry me. (She did when she said yes.) I did it again when I started my business, again when I wrote the first book and let someone else read it.

A trip to Kenya isn't a case of someone putting a gun to my head. It's recoverable. Like the first guy to test a parachute, I plan on everything working like a dream. Having a backup plan helps and I've already plotted a couple of those. In the event things head south, I have some confidence that I can figure something out on the way down.

Or not. Or I might get eaten by lions. That's a possibility, too. I'll find out in February.

Why Go To Kenya?

A couple of people have asked me that lately. Most, the non-runners, think I'm slightly cracked for considering such a trip, especially since I don't plan to be on safari. My mother-in-law summed up those feelings with a question: "Isn't it dangerous?" To which I replied, "It's safer than Chicago." Being a smart-aleck comes somewhat naturally to me. When I get to combine it with truth, it becomes even more fun.

I have plenty of reasons for going. Just traveling to a new place, to meet and, hopefully, understand people that live very different lives from me is a sufficient reward in itself. Ditto for the fact that I'm going to get to watch some of the greatest runners in the world. For a step or two, I might even get to run with them.

Neither move me enough though to risk losing my business. Self-employed people who disappear for two months tend to migrate to unemployed. We'll see. That's a journey I will be trying to avoid. (Which brings up the subject of acting in the face of fear - I'll tackle that some other time.)

What will get me off the proverbial couch and on to the road to Iten is a story. The core idea of it I had three years ago when I first started writing novels. What must the Kenyans go through when they come here, to the United States, to run and attend university?

I began to go do the list, Reno, Kimowba, Keoch, and Lagat at WSU, Mike Bot, and a dozen others. Almost exclusively male. The question changed when I recognized that, and became what does it take for a woman to leave Kenya to come to United States to run and go to school.

That I might be able to answer from the couch, but I couldn't do it well, with real understanding, without making the trip. There will be too many subtleties that I'll miss, too many assumptions that are flat-out wrong. From a first-world perspective, many people point to the obvious and condemn the third-world culture for a lack of enlightenment.

Stealing a phrase from a nephew-in-law, there are no voluntary vegetarians among the starving. So it is for most of us, that our underlying prejudices will inform our judgment, to the detriment of the truth.

The time that I have in Kenya won't strip me completely of my biases, but it will give me a base to learn that I have them and to work around them. Then I'll be able to write the story that I want to tell.

---

The following I wrote as part of an exercise. It will give you an idea of where I'm headed.

From his battered white Toyota, Rob could see her bare feet caked with the dry umber dust of the road to Kapkeringon Village. Grace had none of the baby-giraffe look of the others headed the school from shacks in the fields. Instead, she unfolded one fluid stride at a time, feet lifting puffs of red haze in the post-dawn light.

She flew as the fastest of the sparks flowing past the newly green tea fields. She wore the school uniform of Kapkeringon East, a poinsettia-red skirt, a button up shirt with small blue and white checks, and a vee-necked sweater the color of rubies. Her books, both of them, she carried tied together with string on her back.

Grace saw him long before she reached his car. She eased across the road to the far side. Her eyes, when she got close enough for him to see, were deep wells, and her gaze was more curious than cautious until they met his. Then, they turned down in respect to his age and his skin. Still, he had seen the flicker of a question before she averted her eyes. Who was the muzungu—white man?

He waited until she was well within earshot, so that he wouldn’t be shouting over the buzz of insects pollinating the crop.

“Habari za asubuhi.” Good morning, what is the news.

She slowed without seeming to at the morning greeting.

“Nzuri sana, assante,” Grace replied, the accent lifting on the next-to-last syllable. The news is good, thank you. Like her eyes, the words hung diffidently. A light sheen of sweat lent a polished glow to her skin. It was almost a deep mahogany rather than the darker black of most of the children and was stretched over a body so spare as to show every muscle. Her head, like that of all the students, was shorn to her scalp. 

She risked another glance when she was opposite him. In that a fleeting moment, he saw her take stock of him. A flash of white teeth showed, and a crease smoothed on her forehead, and he recognized a bit of her uncle in the expression, the look Joseph had when he figured something out.

Grace surged, three long strides that opened space between them and carried her on to school.

Kenyan Travel Update

Kapkeringon

I'll be staying for two week in Kapkeringon Village which is where Justin Lagat has a house. It's about an hour from Eldoret and should be great for building up my notes for a book. Plus, I will get to go for runs with Justin. (Yes, I've already told him I'm slow - it will give us time to chat.) As a younger man, Justin worked with the tea farmers in the Nandi Hills area.

Justin still trains, but I think he might have made a bigger name for himself as a writer for RunBlogRun. During the Kenyan Championships, Justin posted a steady stream of info and pictures so that the rest of the world could get results almost real time. If you're interested in what's happening in Kenya with runners, Justin's your guy. You can follow him on twitter.

Simbolei Academy

After I leave Kapkeringon, I'll trek over to Iten. I've already booked the cottage at Simbolei Academy, just outside of the town. My understanding is that it's about a 1.5 mile walk into town and about 15 miles to Eldoret. Andrea Kaitany has been wonderfully helpful in getting me up to speed on what I can expect. An added benefit to me is that my rent for the cottage will help build the Academy.

A shameless plug: They're doing good work there at Simbolei Academy and small donations go a long, long way to delivering an education to girls who otherwise would stop after primary school. Unlike the US, a secondary education is not paid for out of public funds but by the families. This makes educating all the children out of reach for many of the families in the Rift Valley, where the commerce so prevalent in Nairobi has yet to appear. Consider sending a couple of dollars their way, please. Here is the link to their donation page.

Visas

Make a note for yourself - if you want the East African visa, don't send the application in five months before travel. I did, and the kind gentleman at the embassy is returning it to me. The Kenyan visa is good for six months. The East African is only valid for three. Oops.

I opted for the East African visa as it permits entry into not just Kenya, but also Rwanda and Uganda. While I don't currently have a plan to visit either, I like the flexibility of picking up and going on a whim, especially after reading Running the Rift.

My family will attest to my low impulse control when it comes to adventures. My wife gave up trying to rein me in. Instead, we reached an agreement that I can do all the truly stupid things I like provided I don't do anything tragically stupid.

I'll resubmit the application in November. The embassy official already gave me a heads-up that everything looks fine, so I should be good to go.

Does Running Have the Most Dysfunctional Governing Body in History?

Settle in, because I'm in a bit of a ranty mood.

I haven't comment on the doping scandals that popped in the news, first with the accusations against the Nike Oregon Project and, this past week, the IAAF data that got leaked. I hope the allegations are not true but fear that worse is still to come. Justin Lagat made a great point about the lack of names painting all elite runners with the same tarring brush. As he put it on Facebook, "From now henceforth, allegations with NUMBERS and NOT NAMES are a good as useless to me."

That said, running has a big problem with PEDs. The lack of names comes from the reluctance of the IAAF to enforce sensible rules to protect the honest athletes. Today, we get the news that the IAAF went back and found 28 athletes were using at the 2005 and 2007 World Championships. So far, no names have been made public.

Color me skeptical, but I don't think they would have gone back and looked at those results except for the data breach last week. The IAAF got embarrassed and is doing exactly what every entrenched bureaucracy does, throwing people under buses. Given an option, I think they'll do it by reputation and seek to avoid actually naming the individuals (as Justin pointed out). Much easier to smear (mostly retired) athletes by innuendo. Plus they get to point out how actively they pursue PEDs without doing anything about the current problems.

The various governing bodies need the spectacle of competition to drive revenues. World records also act to drive interest. It behooves them to treat the many questionable tests reported as outliers. An outrageous scenario? Look to Lance Armstrong and the International Cycling Union, whom Floyd Landis accused of protecting Armstrong.

Is it so hard to picture the same in running?

Now, on to Nick Symmonds.

USATF, in their usual immitigably tone-deaf manner, managed to bring back images of the bad-old-days of the AAU. As part of the agreement to be on the US team for Worlds, athletes are required to sign an agreement, part of which states that they will wear official Nike uniforms and gear at team events. The problem is that the term "team events" never gets defined. A good idea of what they meant can be inferred from a letter they sent along with the agreement, to wit: "Accordingly, please pack ONLY Team USA, Nike or unbranded apparel ..."

Man, it's almost like Nike hates real competition and uses the USATF as a bought-and-paid-for enforcement arm.

Remember the comment above about how bureaucracies react? Yep, they live down to that low standard. For starters, they questioned his honesty in bringing this up now when he had signed the agreement in the past. Of course, he was sponsored by Nike back then, so the point was irrelevant. Now he's sponsored by Brooks. He'd like to honor his contract by wearing Brooks gear at appropriate times. Hard to do when you're told to leave all your branded gear that doesn't have a swoosh on it at home.

According to Nick, he got hassled by USATF officials in a hotel lobby for wearing Brooks stuff. I am unclear on how coffee-drinking becomes a team event. Nick evidently had similar questions, hence the reluctance to sign the contract without a better definition of terms.

The USATF refused to define the term. When Symmonds didn't sign, they sent out him a nicely passive-aggressive email stating, "Without you having submitted a fully executed USATF Statement of Conditions for the 2015 IAAF World Championships, I am disappointed to have to inform you that you will not be named to the U.S. Team in the men's 800m event."

Yep, all Symmonds' fault and they are so disappointed, but not enough to go against Nike.

Now, in the aftermath, the attacks continue. Alan Abrahamson, noted Olympic writer, put forth an article that seeks to subtlety paint Symmonds as greedy and looking to enhance the Symmonds brand. Cueing Abrahamson, "Consider: This predicament is entirely of Symmonds’ own making." This piece of prejudicial writing comes early in the article, clearly to color everything that follows.

Later in the article you can nearly hear Abrahamson harrumphing as he writes, "That he said he made “several offers” to help USATF draft a new Statement of Conditions is misleading and unhelpful . . .  who is Symmonds to take it upon himself to undertake such an individualized effort?"

Abrahamson finishes with a nice piece of character assassination:

Oh, and if 1:44.53 is your season’s best in the 800, and you’re looking at a field in Beijing that is going to be dramatically better than it was in Moscow two years ago, and you’re at risk of not even making the finals, you might make the choice that it’s better for your brand not to go but, instead, cast yourself as a crusader in the vein of the saintly Steve Prefontaine against USATF.

The doping problems, the sponsorship strongarm, follows on the heels of the delegate mess earlier this year where the governing board of the USATF overrode the vote of the membership to place USATF President Stephanie Hightower onto the IAAF board instead of Bob Hersh. Willie Banks, former Olympian and Board member summed it up succinctly as "totally unforgivable." 

It's becoming quite apparent that the organizing bodies have no respect for the athletes they presume to govern. It's almost like the athletes exist to fund the USATF for the employees instead of representing the best interests of the sport.

Local Running around Asotin

Let's start with some fun news. The Seaport Striders held their annual fundraiser in Asotin Friday evening. The temperatures stayed up a bit, probably in the mid-80's, but that didn't stop Brady McKay from clocking a 16:30-ish time (I forgot the actual time, sorry). Brady's headed to LCSC later this month to run for Mike Collins and the Warriors. One of Coach Potter's kids from Lewiston was hot on his heels.

Mike Halverson organized the proceedings, with a major assist from Asotin coach Tim Gundy. They took an informal poll at the beginning of the race to see how many liked the evening race. About a third put up a hand. How many would prefer a Saturday morning race? Another third. How many didn't care? The rest. About average for a running group.

Tim Gundy set up the course for 3 miles, rather a full 5K. No one complained about the .1 difference, and most folks had a smile when they got to the finish. With the exception of some of the speedsters up front, the participants treated it as the fun run/walk it was.

I did not run. I timed, which makes me the lazy one for the event. Two of my daughters, my wife, and a couple of friends walked. The daughters pushed strollers with the little ones. I did pony up an entry fee, though. A good cause and the Striders match the entries and donate the proceeds to the three local high school programs. Not sure how much ultimately made its way to the schools, but every little bit helps.

Many thanks to the Striders!

Also on the good news front, I've had an article accepted by Like the Wind magazine. Not sure when it will come out, but tickled about the whole thing. For the runners out there, if you want a chance to publish an article, check out Like the Wind's contributor pages. They're open to a variety of writing styles and topics. Something to consider . . .

There's a whole lot of less cheery news on the running front. I think I'll tackle that on Tuesday, plus an update on the Kenyan adventure.

Running the Rift by Naomi Benaron, A Review

Naomi Benaron, author of Running the Rift, takes the material of a beautiful country and a beautiful people to gradually lead the reader on a journey that encompasses the greatness that occurs in the simplest of acts alongside a descent into nearly unimaginable horror. Following the story of Jean Patrick Nbuka, the plot shifts step by step into Rwanda, and then, in rim horrifying detail, into the genocide that defines the country still.

Recently list as one of the top five novels that all runners should read by the Guardian, it works - just! - as a novel about running. Jean Patrick, a young Tutsi, grows into Rwanda's best hope for an Olympic medal in the 800 meters. For Jean Patrick, this is not a revelation, but the culmination of a dream that started in grade school when he raced his brother to the gates of Gihundwe. The hard work, more than a decade of it, comes later in the story, woven in seamlessly with the greater story of the country.

The story of Rwanda, in the lead-up to the dissolution of civilization, and into the aftermath, dominates the story. Benaron deftly builds the tension, first with a rock-throwing incident at Gihundwe, Jean Patrick's primary school, then in the streets. The sense of menace tracks the youth all the way to university. His saving grace, what keeps him safe, is his ability to run like the wind, to earn the nickname Mr. Olympics.

In the midst of that, Benaron presents all the beauty of Rwanda, in the sights, sounds, in the simple descriptions of the food. Her writing is elegant and clean, adding enough to bring you into Rwanda, to sit you at the table so you can listen to the babble of voices and taste the banana beer.

Benaron applies that same skill to the blackness without resorting to the melodramatic, letting the story follow the history with a sense of inevitableness that leaves the reader in fear for Jean Patrick and his love, Bea, as the tipping point to chaos approaches.

The author also leaves the reader angry, not just at the human cruelty, but at the cowardliness of the rest of the world who looked to Rwanda - and looked away again while the Tutsi were annihilated en masse and twenty percent of the Hutu, those sympathetic to national reconciliation, were murdered.

As I mentioned above, Running the Rift is just barely a novel of running. The running is well done, but it is the rest of the story, beyond the cleanliness of pain that is the 800 meters, that makes this into the powerful story that needs to be read.

You Can't Get to Kenya From Here

The old joke that you can't get there from here applies. At least, if by here, you mean Asotin, Washington, and you're trying to get to Africa.

One advantage of living in an out of the way corner of Washington State is that we complain about sitting through a full cycle at stop lights. We make allowances for farm equipment, wildlife, and our neighbors who are exchanging pleasantries in the middle of the street from the truck windows. 

We also look at the pictures of traffic in places like Seattle and San Diego and question the sanity of living the bumper-to-bumper road rage lifestyle. When family complains about three-hour commutes, we remind them they could move. Not here, mind you. We like it the way it is, and outsiders claim they love the place when they move in, and then try to change it. 

So, most of the time, it's grand. The exceptions occur when you want to leave. In my case, trying to get to Kenya. The moon mission required somewhat more planning but the route was at least pretty well defined. The end point - landing in Nairobi - is, too. It's the getting out bit. 

First, we have one regional airport, across the river in Lewiston. Very convenient in that it's eight minutes away. With only two gates, there's no nonsense of losing three hours of your life standing in line while TSA dithers about giving hard-eyed looks to potential geriatric terrorists and pulling all three of my daughters for 'enhanced' screening. 

Stunningly inconvenient when trying to match up with connecting flights. It would have been much easier if Alaska Airlines hadn't canceled the morning flight. That's a fifty percent decrease in the morning flights. Not for Alaska; for the whole airport. 

Now Alaska wasn't the only option, but they would have gotten me to Seattle. From there, by plane, you can get anywhere. The trick with Seatac is getting to the airport, and I can leave my house and fly there faster than someone from Bellingham can drive there, at rush hour. 

Delta also has a morning flight, but they head to Salt Lake City. Fourteen stops later, you can get to Nairobi. Oh, and it costs more. And takes longer. You do get the added bonus of a twelve-hour layover in Heathrow, though. Not exactly how I plan to visit London when I finally do. 

The average flight time, counting layovers seem to be about 37 hours, with some of the quicker ones getting there in 24 hours and the longer ones promising to have me at the airport in Nairobi in time for the return flight six weeks later. 

The next option was to play around with airports. I checked Spokane. Nice airport, easy access. Surprisingly, not any faster, nor any cheaper. You can bypass Seattle and go due east, but the Delta conundrum of cost and time strikes.  

I looked at Seattle, figuring I could arrange the first leg separately. And I could, not that it made a lick of difference. 

I looked at booking each leg separately and through multiple east coast airports, London, Amsterdam, every option I could think of. The online sites balked, and returned a 'no-can-do, amigo' response.

On a lark, I tried Pullman. The Pullman flights are continuations on the route from Seattle to Lewiston and back, so I didn't have high hopes. It pays to be persistent. Pullman had a morning flight, funny enough, and the cost was relatively low with a reasonable transit time. Put it into the mental file as the benchmark to beat.

Deciding that I had arrived at my level of maximum competence as a travel agent, I contacted a professional to see if she could (hopefully) do better. I sat in a comfy chair while she cycled through the same options I had. It got to the point where she'd go, "Let me try something" and I'd predict her next search pattern. I think it messed with her mind a bit. She start to type, look at me, I'd tell her the next search sequence I tried, and she'd say, "Oh." Type the rest of the query, and tell me what I already knew.

She didn't find anything that I hadn't, both in scheduling and pricing. She did confirm that the Pullman flight was the best option. Not the ideal option, but the best available. I fly from Pullman to Seattle, to Amsterdam, to Nairobi. A one hour flight, a ten-hour flight, and an eight-hour flight. I did spend a little extra to get the seats with more leg room on the way to Amsterdam. I would have done the same with the flight to Nairobi, but the option didn't exist. Along with the extra leg room, I get free premium entertainment and booze. Might need both, but need to be sober when I hit ground as the layover in the Netherlands is a scant one hour and forty minutes. 

I also get one free bag on two of three flights, so I bought a new suitcase. I deliberately chose an overly large one. With a little scrunching, I think I could fit all six grandkids in it. Perfect for the return trip when I load up on souvenirs. 

Now, on to worrying about the next thing, plus I have to send out the paperwork for a visa. By Kenyan regulation, you can't apply for a visa without confirmed travel and it must be within the next six months. Done, and done, and time to head out to run.

Have a great day!