Josh Moen's Journal

January 22, 2009 (Posted January 26, 2009)
 
The Plains states are known for having four distinct seasons, all of which are beautiful. Right now winter is in full swing, giving us all she’s got. In mid-January, Minnesota spent a near-record 86 consecutive hours below 0 degrees with the coldest temperature being -22.
 
The surprising thing about that week was how sunny it was. I’d look out the window and see a clear sky and the sun blazing sky thinking to myself the temperature couldn’t be that cold. Checking the weather report is a sobering thing sometimes.
 
We’ve all heard the traditional advice for winter running: dressing in layers, run against the wind first, etc. But there are other, more fringe adaptations people make. My favorite is the Grizzly Adams approach which entails growing the fullest beard you can. Many a man has prided himself with a full-on ice beard. It is rather an amazing thing to see one, especially the ones that have icicles. Others take a different approach and grow their hair out to keep the icy wind out, which I’ve done this winter since I can only grow peach fuzz.
 
Dressing for the conditions can be funny as well. I saw a lady the other day wearing silver oven mitts and a neon knit stocking hat with a ball on top. I couldn’t help but be amused and impressed with her creativity with the mittens while the ball on her head bounced around.
 
Vaseline is something that can come in quite handy. Some people prefer to dip their fingers in the canister and pull out a large glob and proceed to smear it all over their faces and exposed skin as a protector. While quite effective, it’s a mess and leaves you looking like you’ve got unresolved issues regarding skin oil or you have a REALLY runny nose, which leads me to my next paragraph.
 
A cruel trick of nature I’ve discovered is that the colder the temperature gets, the more my nose runs. I have to clear my nose a fair amount around 30 degrees, but when it’s below zero, it’s something bigger than all of us. It’s a messy situation when the temperatures relegate the need for a facemask. I try to clear my nose before it becomes a problem. I usually can stave it off for a few miles before my facemask is soaked with snot. Once I take the facemask off to clear my nose again, it’ll literally freeze in seconds and I have an icy, snotty facemask to look forward to putting on my face, only to be thawed out again in a couple minutes. This cycle is repeated a few times. Winter can certainly be an interesting season to train in, but I absolutely love it, snotty facemask and all.
 
For those of you interested in what I’ve been up to lately running wise, I’ve been working on getting a solid block of training in after I had to take a couple of weeks easy with a bum hamstring tendon that flared up around Christmas. I’m looking at doing some road racing in early spring and then doing some track stuff after that.

November 17, 2008 (Posted November 21, 2008)

A couple of weeks ago I headed back to Iowa to watch my little sister Katy run in the Iowa State High School Cross Country meet. Katy had been on a roll all season and felt she had a good chance to win the class 1A state championship individually. We had been talking all week about the race, what kind of things to expect, how to respond, and what kind of mind-frame she should be in.

About an hour before the race, she was expectedly nervous, but confident and excited at the same time. She just wanted the race to start right then and there. When the gun finally went off and the race was underway, she executed her plan, which was to work her way up in the race gradually and win with her trademark kick. As is the case in many races, things don’t always go as planned and she ended up finishing in third place. It became evident to me at about the 2.5 K into the 4K race that the leader wasn’t going to get caught and Katy wouldn’t achieve the goal she’d worked so hard for. She was in about 15th place with the leader 25 seconds in front of her.

But at this point in the race I distinctly remember the fire in her eyes that she was going to fight for whatever place she could get. The last 1.5k was inspirational to watch from my perspective because she could’ve just run in and finished in the top 15, or she could do something great. Watching her cross the finish line in third and stumble around for a minute spoke volumes to me about what it means to truly compete.

I never thought I’d learn something about running from my sister, but I did watching her race until the end, never giving in, not even an inch in the face of knowing she probably wouldn’t get her goal of winning. I later talked to her about the race to get her perspective on this. She said the worst part of the race was realizing she probably wouldn’t achieve her goal, but she wasn’t going to leave anything on the course and leave any doubt. This kind of attitude and commitment was refreshing to me and something I’ll never forget.

As for myself, I’ve just started doing workouts again after a break from my debut marathon at the Medtronic Twin Cities Marathon. The race itself was a fun experience and something I plan to do more of. The training leading up to the marathon was tough, but working with four other guys from the team with the same mindset and goals was fun and inspiring.

A quick update to my previous journal about dogs that have a disdain for runners - my least favorite cujo, whom I affectionately call Bruno, broke his chain and attacked my dad’s neighbor down in Iowa. My neighbor is just fine and Bruno was promptly relocated behind the house instead of right by the street under a snowmobile trailer.

Introductory Entry (Posted September 26, 2008)

As a quick introduction to the beginning of the journal entries that will be subsequently written, I'll take this time to give you a little information about myself. I grew up in small-town Iowa and went to a liberal arts Division III college in Iowa called Wartburg. It was there I was truly introduced to running and really got excited about it.

After graduating in 2005, I trained with the Hansons-Brooks group for a couple of years before I moved home for a year to be around my family. I joined Team USA Minnesota this past August and am training for the Medtronic Twin Cities Marathon, which is the host of the 2008 USA Men's Marathon Championships on October 5. It will be my first marathon.

Minneapolis is quite different from where I grew up. Just a couple months ago, I could go out on a 12- mile run in the country and not see one single car the whole time, and if I did see a car I knew who it was. I'm still getting used to being around a mass of humanity 24 hours a day. I really miss not having a horizon to look at and the lack of stars at night. I guess that comes with the territory though.

A couple of big plusses to living in the city, however, is convenience and I don't have to deal with what I call "cujos" anymore. Do you remember the Stephen King movie of the same name?  I've certainly dealt with some dogs that should audition if there ever is a C Many of you have probably experienced one of these special moments. If anyone can give me some tips about handling a Cujo, let me know. I could go on and on about my dealings with them, but another topic is pressing.

Since joining Team USA Minnesota, I have come to realize a few things that I've taken for granted for too long. I believe one of the biggest aspects of any running lifestyle is the support group around you, mainly family, friends, coaches and fans. Since moving to the Twin Cities, I've received so much support from everyone around me, support that goes beyond expectations.

Sometimes it's easy for me to go along in life and neglect to reflect on aspects of my life. I've been lucky enough to realize how important the support I've had and to never take it for granted again. As I sit back typing this, it's not hard to think of the ways I've been helped or people who have gone the extra mile. For this, I thank everyone who has been there for me.