Detroit Runners

"When I came to Detroit I was just a mild-mannered Sunday-school boy."
------- Ty Cobb

The City of Detroit has been my home for approximately 5 years. I grew up in the northern suburbs of the Motor City where expansive stretches of fresh asphalt, sodded subdivision lawns, and well-groomed trails provided the training grounds for childhood athletics. I've grown to truly enjoy many aspects of life in Detroit: the architecture, museums, restaurants, sports facilities are among many. As frequently documented by mainstream media outlets, Detroit has its fair share of problems. Among the popularly described faults are its abandoned buildings, crime ridden neighborhoods and general blight. These are all true. These faults are also viewed by too many Metro Detroiters as reasons to avoid the city altogether. For this reason, the existence of the Downtown Runners/Walkers club was both surprising and encouraging.

Last night I learned that for the past 22 years a group of Detroit workers, residents, and general friends of the city have been gathering weekly at one of the many charming watering holes throughout this city in order to run, walk, drink, eat and enjoy each others' company. Members of this group range from beginning 20-something walkers to veteran 60-something marathon runners. Very unique.

In a rather celebrated way, the foursome that I ran with set its path directly through the much maligned blight and grit of Detroit. We ran through historic Cass Corridor and Wayne State University and past the beautiful golden dome of the Fisher Building. We maneuvered through some broken liquor bottles, makeshift shelters, abandoned 19th century buildings, crazy drivers and the occasionally mentally ill street prophet. Not exactly the handsomely groomed and sterile suburbs, but Detroit in its pure form. This group is proud of this city and chooses to celebrate its positive qualities with a little sweat and shoe leather upon its streets. I couldn't help but analogize the toughness, grittiness and resilience of this great city with the runners I'm now beginning to know. I'm not all that convinced that Detroit was responsible for Ty Cobb's notorious temper, maniacal behavior and anti-Sunday school boy demeanor. He was unquestionably one of the toughest baseball players to ever play the game. This, I believe, can be accredited to his life in Detroit.

I want to thank this group for welcoming me into your weird and exciting club. After the run, one of the club's patriarchs told me that their motto was "Drinkers with a Running Problem." There are no secret handshakes, code names or dues, just an adventurous attitude, a pair of running shoes, and a substantial bar tab. I've never before conversed with a group of bar patrons about marathon times, training injuries, and stories about hitting "the wall." I'm learning that this is normal social behavior for the running species. I'm also learning that a has-been football player can easily become one of these species.

Rest My Bones

Goin' home, goin' home
by the waterside I will rest my bones
Listen to the river sing sweet songs
to rock my soul

Grateful Dead
Broke-down Palace


The Team In Training staff has repeatedly advised us that a day of rest is just as important as a day of training. I plan on strictly following this advice. In addition to remaining horizontal on the couch, I'm interpreting "rest" to include a couple glasses of wine, an oversized plate of fajitas, a bowlfull of cookies n' cream ice cream and some tunes to lull me to sleep. I wouldn't quite go as far as to say that my body felt broke-down, but this type of rest felt great. I'm not sure if all these activities are promoted by the TNT coaches, but I figured I deserved a little love.

Frost Bitten Turkey

A brave foursome and over 4,000 crazy runners conquered the 2005 Detroit Turkey Trot. Three years ago my father and I started a tradition of running the annual 10k event through the heart of downtown Detroit. Old Man Rorai was on an Olympic-like training regiment to prepare for this years race. Taking the advice of the Run With Rorai blog, he even bought himself a pair of Winderwear to protect his....ugghhhhh.....you get my drift. Along with Pops, was my trusty training partner and underappreciated girlfriend. With a soon-to-be-physician beside him, Old Man Rorai felt assured that his health was in good hands........with frozen fingers. Finally to complete our foursome was the cagey running guru and father of my girlfriend "Pour Me Another" Walton who swore that the recipe for a successful Turkey Trot involved a pre-race pint of frothy porter and some barbecue. While this foursome ran, our secret weapon was working behind the scenes as the fifth member of our squad. "Bag Lady" Rorai thwarted tourists and lost suburbanites on the streets of Detroit to transport this foursome to the starting line in plenty of time, only to execute a truly veteran Detroit driving maneuver around the closed streets in order to greet us at the finish with refreshments and warm clothing.

After mile 3, my legs began to warm up and the icicles that were forming on my eye lids began to melt. By mile 4 I could actually feel my finger tips. To say it was cold is a huge misstatement. However, frigid temperatures and 30 mi/hr gusts of snow and wind couldn't keep 4,000 runners from trotting up Woodward Avenue and taking part in this great tradition. We were greeted by thousands of bundled-up spectators, law enforcement personnel, parade volunteers and even the early-to-party Lions tailgating contingency. I remembered getting bundled up as a kid and watching in awe as the giant baloons of Andy The Panda and Big Bird floated by the then-standing Hudson's department store. I traded my one-piece snow mobile suite and moon boots for a pair of Brooks Adrenaline running shoes, Adidas wind breaker and about 20 years, but Thanksgiving in Detroit remains a great time

This event further solidified my opinion that runners are a rare breed of athletes. Motivated not by a money, fame, publicity or even a pat on the back, these lunatics run every year through rain, sleet and snow. As I continue to meet runners throughout my training, I hope to learn more about why they do what they do. I suspect that each has a story, each has an inspiration. Based on the number of Team In Training gear I observed along the way, many are running to fight cancer. For me, this race is about family, friends and loved ones. Old Man Rorai has spent countless hours running curl routes, shagging fly balls, returning serves, and chasing rebounds, so that I could become a more successful athlete. While my athletic career is essentially over, I'm fortunate and appreciative that he's still there by my side helping me win another. Nice job old man! You'll be crossing the finish line in Vancouver with me.

We all crossed the finish line of the 10k in a very respectable time. I know for sure that we beat Santa Claus, Joey Harrington, a whole pack of wild turkeys, Tweetie Bird, and Homer Simpson. We were greeted by Coach Ken of Team in Training with an enthusiastic high five and words of encouragement. Thanks for your help, coach! a great day, a great race, and great people.

Now pass those mashed potatoes!

Run With Rorai Award Winner

I am excited and honored to present the first ever "Run With Rorai" award to my dear friend Cindy. The academy has unanimously voted Cindy the winner of the "Jump the Gun" award for being the first official donor to my campaign. Amazingly, her donation was given before my campaign officially kicked off. I'm in the process of obtaining mailing addresses, email and contact information for my friends and family and was planning on launching a Run With Rorai information blitz in the coming days. Apparantly there was a leak within the administration. Luckily, there are no CIA agents, Grand Jury indictments, or government cover-ups involved. In fact, thanks to Cindy's efforts, I'm now ordering my staff to open the campaign doors to the public. I'll fend off Wolf Blitzer myself.

As I opened the door to my apartment this morning, I was kindly greeted by snow and sleet. Just in time for tomorrow's annual Detroit Turkey Trot 10k. Rumor has it that the forcast for tommorrow morning has sent hundreds of Detroiter's to the Arctic for a some warmer temps.





Nov 24, 2005: Forcast
Windy. Snow flurries and a few snow showers throughout the day. High 24F. Winds WNW at 25 to 35 mph. Chance of snow 30%. Winds could occasionally gust over 40 mph.

Belle Isle Bridge and Winderwear

Take me on a trip upon your magic swirlin' ship,
My senses have been stripped,
my hands can't feel to grip,
My toes too numb to step,
wait only for my [$100 shoe] heels
To be wanderin'.

Bob Dylan
Mr. Tambourine Man

This weekend I tested my attrition against the blistering cold and wind that Detroit was so graciously offering. I'm pretty sure Dylan wasn't running across the Belle Isle Bridge in November when he wrote this song, but I felt his pain nonetheless. On 30 degree Friday night, I took a route along Atwater St. and the partially completed Detroit River Walk until eventually coming to Joe Louis Arena. This is the home of Detroit's professional hockey team, the Red Wings. At this time the surface of my chest and thighs felt like JLA's ice rink. Instead of volunteering my body to the Red Wings for ice time, I decided to seek the advice of the Team In Training running professionals regarding battling the intense cold and winter winds.

Last night I made the excruciatingly annoying rush hour hike up to Metro Detroit's super suburb, Novi, for the "Dress For Success" clinic at a running shop. My intent was to learn how to dress while avoiding frozen body parts and pesky things like gangrene. I learned that I was taking on the Detroit winter without the most important piece of cold weather running equipment........for men. For the running layman, like myself, I assumed that an expensive running shoe, a heat-trapping hat, or a pair of the ever-so-popular and alarmingly tight fitting spandex tights were in contention for "most important." Rookie ignorance. I was introduced to a pair of wind proof, breathable, and absurdly strange men's underwear that was designed to fight the elements. The next thing I knew I was facing an entire retail wall stocked with winter busting tighty-whities. I found a pair with nylon, polyester, Gore-tex, and at least six other wind proof, thermal micro fibers. These materials were strategically placed in an area of the brief requiring the maximum amount of protection. Just last week I was primarily worried about the durability of my feet and legs during the next five months of training. Timidly handing the sales clerk my new pair of Winderwear, I found myself more worried about the health and welfare of another "most important" body part.

Of coarse I couldn't leave the store with a single pair of underwear. I can't stand shopping. I inherited a gene from my father that forces us to break out into sweats and panic at the mere sight of a mall. But when it comes to athletic gear, I could spend all day perusing the aisles of hiking boots, moisture wicking shirts, head lamps, camping stoves, baseball gloves, tennis racquets, etc. The stuff in this running shop was no exception. I left with a light weight wind breaking jacket, extra-padded socks, thermal insulated head band, and brand spanking new pair of my favorite running shoes: 0 miles on the pedometer. I'm now telling myself that I'm prepared for the worst that Detroit weather has to offer. I'm also telling myself that in 490 BC, contrary to popular folklore, the original marathon runner did not die from exhaustion after completing the grueling trip from Marathon to Athens, bringing news of the Athenian victory over the Persians.....he died because he didn't have a pair of Winderwear.

Welcome.....I'm not crazy, a little neurotic, but not crazy

Last night I was sworn in as an official member of the Team In Training. Actually there was no oath, or ceremony, just a lot of overly excited people and just as many people petrified out of their mind. In a scary way, the vibe I was sensing in the room reminded me of the moments before taking the Michigan Bar Exam. Instead of preparing to take a test that determines the livelihood of an attorney, we were all preparing to take on something that each of us feared might just end our livelihood.

In a big conference hall, the staff of the Leukemia and Lymphoma Society Michigan chapter introduced us all to the organizers, mentors, coaches and honored heroes that will attempt to get me through this thing. While I admittingly should have been paying close attention to these introductions, I instead was practicing one of my favorite activities: people watching. I'm not proud of it, but I was sizing up the people in the room in an attempt to satisfy my own doubts about running a marathon. I would do the same thing at the start of each football game. It was always reassuring knowing that the opposing team's fullback looked like the lunch crowd at Lafayette Coney Island. (For those of you unfamiliar with this legendary Detroit eatery, think about those throwing back a hotdog smothered in chili, onions and mustard with an overflowing plate of chili cheese slathered french fries......utterly gluttonous, just as utterly wonderful) In conclusion, I saw people of all sizes, shapes, ages and apparent running abilities. While none of these people would be attempting to flatten me on a half back ISO, I felt moderately reassured nonetheless.

This introductory team session was primarily designed to motivate each team member. From my first days of T-ball as a nose-picking, dirt eating kid to my last days as a cocky, meat-headed college football player, I've had every possible category of motivating strategies thrown at me by athletic coaches. Off the top of my mind, there was the fiery locker room tirade, the "pay you no mind" indifference, the off-the-street motivational speaker sounding like a Sunday morning televangelist, and my favorite, the shock and awe verbal assault on one's manhood.........I've heard them all. Last night's motivational technique involved chanting. This is usually lead by an ear-piercing voice rallying the the team to "Go, Get 'Em," "Let's Go!" or as was the case last night "Go Team!" While this technique rarely works for me, it seemed to help many of my teamates and I could sense that many of the initial fears were put at ease. As I met my new running coaches, I couldn't help reminiscing about all my former coaches and the great memories that I have of organized sports. It's likely that many of these memories will spill out onto the pages of this log as I continue to train. It's been nearly six years since I last had a coach to teach me stuff. I plan on picking their minds for advice on how a has-been linebacker can finish 26.2 miles.

I learned there are three categories of events that the program offered. (1) running: marathon and half-marathon; (2) walking: marathon and half; and (3) triatholon: swim, bike, run. I decided to take a shot at my first marathon. I'll start out running, with the hope of staying in that category for the entirety.

Finally, all the runners got a chance to chat with the Team in Training coaches. Now these two dudes are runners. I've run a couple half-marathons and a handful of 10k races, but I'm in an entirely different league than these guys. Their bodies would burn the calories from a coney dog before the chili hit their bellies. They bombarded us with advice about running form, proper apparel and shoes. This rookie must keep his ears open.

Overall, I'm excited and ready to take this on. My fundraising site is up and running. http://www.active.com/donations/fundraise_public.cfm?key=tntmiPRorai1. You can also click on the link on the right side of the screen. I encourage all to visit and make a donation to help fight blood cancers. I will continue to post my ramblings about my training and my often neurotic thoughts. Hopefully you too will be motivated. I promise no screaming, chants, insults, or mind tricking tactics.