When a Lowered Expectation Ignites the Soul.

I do Bloomsday. For the past 29 years I have felt compelled to participate in the Lilac Bloomsday Run, a 12k run through the streets of Spokane. Bloomsday is one of the largest timed road races in the world so to say it's a bit of a spectacle may be a bit of an understatement.

This season has been and/or will be - a wash. After surgery this past February on my left shoulder for a labral tear, I have a frozen shoulder. A shoulder which will likely take another two procedures to correct. Once I have moved passed the left shoulder we will address the same injury in the right shoulder. Due to the fact that frozen joints are believed to be primarily hereditary there is a strong possibility of my right shoulder freezing as well. The time table could be next February for a recovery of full range of motion in both shoulders and next summer before a return to the pool.

With a frozen shoulder, even after the surgical sight has healed, training has been...well...challenging. I have been able to run maybe a couple times a week at most and to ride a couple times a month at best. Upon reflection, I realized I haven't taken this kind of time away from regular training or have I been this far out of shape since 2002. So without a regular training schedule I don't have a regular race schedule. Bloomsday was the only thing on my schedule at this point for the year - the entire year.

I considered walking this years race and had a couple offers to walk with groups but frankly, I didn't want to be on course for the 2 to 2.5 hours it takes to walk. Part of the fun of the run for me is partaking in the post race events, some of which includes a group lunch and stories of the day.

I have been starting in the Yellow group for a large part of my Bloomsday racing career. When running in Yellow the first 2 or 3 miles of the race can be tight, only breaking up after the first few hills of the course. When running in the Green group this was not the case.

Qualifying for Yellow allows you to start near the front of the race with like runners. Rules of the race are that you can move back in the race but not forward. My family were starting in Green which follows Yellow so I took the opportunity to move back.

I could immediately sense a different attitude among these racers as we arrived late-ish but walked right to the front of the Green group. Listening to and looking over the crowd there appeared a much more relaxed atmosphere then I had grown accustom to. These racers may have been more interested in the race experience then what the clock would revel. Or maybe they weren't as interested in the clock as say I have been in past years.

As we ran the first miles there was plenty of room, not my experience when running in with the Yellow. My plan was to run the flats and down hills and walk the up hills. Because my "training" has been limited at best, I would run without the pressure of a time goal. I would run when I felt like it and walking when I wanted. My shoulders had only allowed me to run for about 40 to 45 minutes in training before getting mad so I knew I would suffer in the final miles of this event.

Bloomsday has always been a celebration for me, a celebration of spring and the fact that I get to do this each year, this being my 29th consecutive Bloomsday. But I will admit there have been years where this race has been used as a training race. Those years traditionally came when training for Ironman Coeur d'Alene which until last year was held in the latter part of June. This meant the month of May was a huge building block. When racing in Yellow with a purpose beyond this race itself I was missing something. Something I didn't realize until this year.

Chugging down Sherman Avenue in the final stride of IMCDA is a monumental achievement, in my opinion. The finish on Sherman Avenue is one of the best places on earth, again, in my opinion. The enormity of it all, the village it takes to not only get you to the start line but through an Ironman day and ultimately to Sherman Avenue, it's something I will always cherish. But what I saw in those miles that stretch though the city streets of Spokane moved me.

I watched, I listened and I learned. Below are just a couple things I overheard while on course:

A mother to her 6 or 8 year old daughter - "This is an amazing accomplishment. When we finish we are going to get the largest bowl of ice cream you have ever had to celebrate our achievement."

As I ran past a group of Junior High kids - "I can't believe it. We're doing it. I can't believe we're already almost halfway there."

Doomsday Hill

The pride in the eyes of the young racers as they covered the miles of this years Bloomsday was in no way less then the pride I have felt when running down Sherman Avenue or though finisher shoot at Ironman Arizona or down Ali'i Drive. The fan fare, the miles covered in what is always a very long day at any full iron distance is nothing greater then and in some ways maybe less then what I experience at this years Bloomsday. This was their Ironman if you will and they were doing it with laughter, pride and joy. This is when I realized I was the one missing out. I was the one not fully engaging in the achievement of yet another Bloomsday victory.

So guess what I did? I too celebrated. I stopped to take pictures. I ate an Otter Pop on course. I danced and sang with the masses as we passed the many bands on course.

And I finished!

The finish line.

I realize now that at every race a few ounces of paint on the road is somebodies Everest. I had lost that with an inner focus, a focus on fitness and time. But once removed and with an attempt to view this event through the eyes of others, Bloomsday has once again touched my soul.