Ok, Day 1 went off more or less as planned. Logged 85,000+ meters in about 6.5 hours total time. Was looking forward to sleep by the time I was finished, and then got in bed and remembered that the first thing greeting me the next day was another 100,000 meters (or so I had planned.) At the moment, I'm 33,000 into that set. Just finished two soft pretzels and my tenth or eleventh Gatorade.
 

Ok Day 2 went somewhat as planned, but I'm losing time. Turned in about 117,000 meters for a total of 202,841 after roughly 15.5 hours total. It's late and I need to head to bed. Dreading what I'll feel like tomorrow...
 

Didn't get up at the scheduled time, so I missed my morning row. Then faced the hour commute into work at the hospital...8 hours later and another 45 minutes home. Not sure which I'm enjoying less at this point, work or "not work." So, after getting just a scant 5 hours of sleep last night...back at it today for a rather tough 78,000 meters. Three day total is now 280,150 and I'm 9,079 behind schedule. Mostly been averaging a bit under 2:24/500 --I love math so I'll do it...works out to about 22.4 hours...check back later to make sure I'm still alive in a few days.
 

Had to imagine I was a slave on a Viking longboat to make it through parts of today. Started off okay, and then pace dropped down to just under 2:30/500. I doubt if I'll be able to go faster than that on average for a while, so I suppose I'll have to spend longer on the seat. The road to success weaves its way through the swamp of misery. Four days: 375,402. 11.7% finished.
 

Hey Brian, this is great stuff, You are a champ! I wussed out and am a PATHETIC excuse for an AARDVARK BROTHER. I have not submitted and dedicated myself to the riding the rail. I discovered your myspace from the challenge page in fact and wanted to do my part as ANARCICHAL AARDVARK to help your cause!!!!!
 

Another 80,000 brings me to 455,000. Trying to figure out where to find more time, because it's looking like I'll need it. 14.1% finished.
 

Another 101,000 comes to 556,800. Hurting in places where it shouldn't...actually looking forward to work tomorrow, because the drive both ways and work itself will keep me off 'that thing' for most of the day. Thanks to Kevin, Karen, and Jim for writing. Jim, the formula is Gatorade + Clif Mojo bars + noodles + protein powder + Vaseline + lots of sleep. Extra strength Tiger Balm doesn't hurt either, but it's crazy expensive.
 

Please keep up the good work. And please keep posting your blog. It is and inspiration for me to erg through the pain for 90 minutes a day when I don't go to the gym. And info about nutrition, and split times is a guidline for my smaller distances (I want to be able to do a Marathon). My Mum had breast cancer and I know awareness can be life saver.

All the best. Looking forward to following your fantastic endeavor.
Abdul
 

Well, I managed to squeak out just over 640,000 by the end of day 8--which was supposed to be a semi-rest day. Something kind of strange happened though, which I have to think was nutrition-related. That being my split times for the last couple sets coming down under 2:24/500 despite having climbed almost into the 2:30's in the last couple days. I've been trying to cram down as much food as possible, though sometimes sleep is the priority. Row on and off for 6 or 7 hours then eat, sleep for 3 or 4, and get back up and start over again. BTW for those wanting to start doing long distance rows, DO NOT risk hyponatremia...in other words, get plenty of salt in your diet, and drink Gatorades instead of water when you can. You need the calories anyway--about 5,200/100,000 meters.
 

Day 9...new pb, with 139,788 meters covered today. Split times came down for most sets under 2:20/500, and it actually wasn't quite as painful. Still no significant blisters, believe it or not. Halfway through my third case of Gatorade... 24.2% finished.
 

Day 10...130,466 covered. Pace mostly below 2:20/500 today. Pretty tired now, and sore--looking forward to work tomorrow :S 910,843 = 28.28% finished.
 

Ok, that last 70K pretty much hurt. My back at times feels like someone's been whacking me with a crowbar, and I'm getting a blister on my heel. The good news is my mom brought some audio books over and I'm 6/19ths of the way through "The Three Musketeers" (which is excellent so far...) I did manage to successfully petition for another day off toward the end of the month, so I won't have as many of these kind of days (I hope.) 11 days, 977,941 meters covered..."only" 2,242,479 meters to go.
 

So I woke up this morning not feeling too great--some surprise there. I decided to finish the New York State Bluebird Society newsletter--which I am, at least for the moment, editor of. That having gone off without hitches despite taking 3 hours of time I could ill afford to spend on my day off, I resolved to row without sleeping for the remainder of the day. It is now roughly 13 hours later--4:30 am, and I'm quite ready for the daily repose. 12 days + 4.5 hours finished, and I'm now past my previous month best, set this past fall. 1,101,336 and 34.2% finished.
 

Today...a good day. With a bit of rest from yesterday, I managed to pull my way through 175,215 meters, by far my best day ever. Actually came away from it feeling somewhat good--which may either be that I'm starting to get the nutrition just right, or that I'm passing into a kind of delirium. Done with audio classic 1, tomorrow I imagine I'll start listening to "To Kill a Mockingbird" if Sissy Spacek narrates as well as does Michael Page. 1,276,551 meters, or 39.64% done.
 

Brian,
Kristine from JVC team LUNA-TICS boat here. Just checking in on you. Your blog posts are a great way for all of us who are rooting you on to vicariously "live" your experience with you in some small way. Thanks for taking the time to write about it. I hope C2 does a feature article on your row for one of their magazines to give your cause even more exposure. Keep on, brother!
 

Had to work today...59,372, coming to 1,335,923. I added a time column to my spreadsheet, seems I'm at 106 hours 51 minutes, with an average pace just under 2:24/500. Thanks to all who have written. Going to put these in and do two more hours before I eat and sleep.
 

A bit of good news, a bit of bad. First the bad: roughly 7 hours into today's sets, my left tibialis anterior (that's the one in the front of your lower leg that helps pull you back toward the flywheel after each stroke) decided to give up on me. I took my foot out of the stirrup and decided that I would just use that leg for a bit of pushing power, and let the other one pull me back for the rest of my set. The good news is that it wasn't my right leg, and that it was nice enough to wait until I was about 44% done before it revolted. My plan at the moment is to contemplate things further over another bowl of these noodles, and then duck the snowball of self-doubt that is headed for my face by going to sleep for a few hours and starting the process over again with some fresh mental energy. 1,428,921 or 44.37% finished.
 

Woke up again and put two more hours in to finish day 16. 1,454,009...45.15% finished, with 51.61% of my time used up. Down to about 6 cases of Gatorade.
 

Tough day. +88,239 after a scant 2.5 hours of sleep, all sets under 2:20 today, with two coming in under 2:15. 17 days down: 1,542,248m. Exactly 123 hours rowed, about 7 hrs, 15 min avg daily at a pace avg. 2:23.6/500. 47.85% finished--the halfway point is in sight!
 

10 hours 48 minutes more today...the last hour of which pretty much hurt. Total for today: 140,212 meters...total pace average down to 2:23.1 for 133 hours 48 minutes. Crossed the halfway point today, and am now at 52.25% completed. First thought was "it's all downhill from here" but then remembered there is no downhill in erging...
 

Managed 51,808 today, a work day with a bit of horrible Buffalo weather. Too tired to do much of anything when I got home, so I slept for 3 hours or so, then got up and put 4 in on the erg. I stop now to write this summary for day 19, but will get on for two more hours despite that it is midnight, because I haven't used the day's energy completely up yet. And so, after 19 days...1,734,268 meters in 137 hours 48 minutes. Still somewhat behind schedule, but 53.85% finished. Tomorrow (er, today) I expect will be a good day.
 

Day 20...without knowing the man or what to expect, I decided to write to Greg of team Age Without Limits last night. I suppose in part I wondered whether some of the things that have turned over in my mind along the way have entered his as well. As I mentioned to him, this has already been quite an enlightening experience for me. His response came quickly, thoughtfully, and just in a nick of time. It is hard to describe; I see from my spreadsheet that I am on the razor's edge between finishing what I set out to do and not, that with 11 days remaining, I still have a bit over 1.3 million meters to reach my goal. My whole body aches and seems to not believe me when I keep telling it "just a little more." But in my mind I am so far into this I can only believe that to stop short of giving my best effort would be to have to look back and wonder horribly and for a very long time whether I could have done it had I just a little more heart. And so, as I said, Greg's response came just in a nick of time. On my hardest day so far, the person I had once thought a brutally tough rival proved himself the truest sportsman that I have ever met, offering good suggestions that I at once took advantage of, and that I have no doubt preserved the day for me. Greg, I sincerely thank you for your tips; you do yourself and the rowing community credit.
 

You definitely the man.
Just sorta not kidding. Wow. You really deserve any encouragement anyone can offer and I'm offering encouragement Brian. Go Cat Go! Hang on- we're thinking about you and spreading the word about what you are doing and about your cause - breast cancer.

My dear mother died last month at 89 yrs of age. She had 2 mastectomies due to breast cancer - the first in the late 1950's and she was given 6 months to live with 5 children. I was about 3 or 4 years old at the time. She had her 2nd 17 years after the 1st. She has always been an inspiration for me. She stayed active playing competitive and recreational tennis well into her eighties. I will miss her always.

Bob G.
Schuylerville, NY
 

Day 21, over. Ten days left. 76,249 today and 134,780 yesterday brings me to 1,945,297. Came home from work through a horrendous amount of snow, which wasted 15 minutes of my 'free time' tonight. Pace average is just a bit under 2:22.7, 154 hours 12 minutes completed for a 7 hr 18 min average. 60.41% done with about 100 hours left to go...yikes 10 per day. Day off tomorrow, so I'll plan to put 12 in.
 

hello Brian
i am from Gibraltar ,the dreaded disease is very widespread locally , it took away two of our family members and both my neighbours have had mastectomies .i applaud your commitment to the cause and you are definitely a good example to follow .
you are an inspiration to the rest of us.
YOU MUST BE AN EXCELLENT NUTRIONIST.
well done
Eugene Pons AWL
 

Thanks to all for the comments and encouragement--it is questionable whether day 22 would have come off the way it did had it not been for the nods and tips. So, 12 hours as expected, plus an additional 12 minutes that came from who knows where...I had that many extra minutes before midnight so I threw them in with the rest. Longest session I ever put in without sleeping in the middle, and I doubt if I'm going to be trying that again--at least not until this month is over. Covered 153,711 meters today, hours 4 and 10 were by far the most painful, and looking back at them, I went just a scant 200-300 meters more in those hours. Which seems to mean I'm at my limit pace, all things considered, for the moment. If I had a few more minutes in the day I might have gotten the full 2,100,000...as it stands I fell 4-5 minutes short. I won't push it harder than I did today, except in the unlikely event that I need to on one of the final two days. 166 hours, 24 minutes and 6 cases of Gatorade gone.
 

Brian,
Kristine from the LUNA-TICS just checking in on you. You are sooooooo close. Keep going!

Two summers ago I took all the kids in the extended family on a hike every Monday. We pushed it a little farther every week. Our goal was to hike to the top of the trail - the top of the highest mountain here in our area - and every week we got closer to that goal. But by August we still had not made it to the top.

It was our final hike before school started, and the hikes were over for the year. We took a vote, and it was unanimous - everyone wanted to go for it, and finish the goal we set out to accomplish.

These kids amazed me over the next few hours. We made it to our previous farthest turnaround point in record time, and enthusiasm was high. We kept on going, up, up, up the mountain. We had no real way to gauge our progress as the woods were thick, and only offered an occasional glimpse through as to our elevation gain. None of us had hiked this trail all the way to the top before. All we knew was that it came out at the top of the mountain on a gravel logging road, and that it was a popular trail for full day hikes. Nobody knew exactly how far away the end was - yet we knew it was there.

I kept my eye on my watch, calculating time hiked against the coming darkness, and weighing the intelligence of our decision to start this hike so late in the day. Every time I suggested that we probably should think about turning back the kids couldn't bear the idea. They kept on saying, "Yeah, but the end of the trail might be right around the next corner. What if we quit, and we were almost there!" This was the driving thought that prevailed for the duration of the hike, and gave them the energy and strength to keep going.

Finally, we reached the point in our hike where we had to make a choice - either turn back so we could make it back to the car before darkness, or call a ride in to meet us at the top and hope we were at least half-way there. Nobody wanted to turn back, and end the summer not having reached our goal, so I made a call and arranged a ride for us (thankfully the cell phone caught a signal- at lower elevations in this spot there is no reception.)

As it turned out, we were not yet at the half-way point. A storm rolled in, and although the trees kept most of the rain off us, the temperature dropped considerably. The kids kept going - nobody even complained - they were so focused on reaching the goal that getting to the top was all that mattered. I was really surprised and inspired by them all, being the only adult in the group, and the kids really assuming a leadership of their own. It was THEIR goal they were pursuing, and they did it! The oldest of the kids was only 13 and the youngest was 8. Although the trail was well developed, the climb was steep, and this was definitely a challenging hike for us all.

Now, every time we go to town the kids see this mountain - the highest one in the area - and they can look at it with pride instead of a sense of defeat. There is no question in their head about how far up the mountain they made it - they made it to the top!

YOU CAN MAKE IT!
 

Day 23...I wouldn't recommend waking up 4 hours after a 12+ hour erg day and trying to do a split session of 80K the next, with work sandwiched in the middle. At some point approximately 4 hours into such an attempt, I realized that it was either spit it out or get ready to give the universal choking sign, because it was NOT going down. I passed the 66.66% mark though, and so with that done I decided to play my final discretion card. Turned in just 56,225 instead of the 80 I anticipated, and believe it or not, it peeved me something awful. There will be no more whining, however. I played that out in my head; failure starts with whining. You start to tell yourself how badly something hurts, then you start to believe it, and then it becomes (at least in your mind) legitimate in some way. The best approach is to view yourself with detachment, in my opinion. Like an out-of-body experience, maybe. Well here is the objective analysis:

My left tibialis anterior is still causing me some grief, as I don't know whether it is actually getting ready to tear, or just trying to aggravate me into stopping. I switched my left foot position to hole 3 (instead of hole 4, like my right) and that brings some relief. My left IT band is experiencing some excessive use signs; the IT band syndrome that came upon me from running on the track too much in one direction this past fall is coming back--although at the moment in mild degree. My right leg is still pushing just fine, but the return is suffering a bit due to an old hamstring pull suffered in the days of playing rugby (flanker, as I'm sure someone will be curious.) The remaining pain lies in my right and left hip flexors (the outer ones, I don't remember the name), and trapezius muscle, especially on the right side as it fans out over the top/back of my right shoulder. This I attribute to the glory days of rugby, as well. Oh, and the fingers--index and middle fingers on both hands, especially the left, really do not like to straighten in the morning. Warm water generally helps quite a bit.

Having said all of this, it may seem to some that I ought to stop while I'm ahead. One person has suggested this outside of my family, and I thank each of those people for looking out for what appears to be my best interest. However, when the possibility of throwing in the towel has entered my mind, I reflect on all that I have gained from the experience thus far, that I feel like a very different person already (which is not solely--or even mainly--due to the fact that I've lost almost 5% of my body weight), and that people who suffer from cancer suffer a lot worse than I may be suffering. I find it easy to imagine that I am not suffering at all; that I sit there with a world of thoughts flowing through my head, and that you can only truly suffer when you decide to sit on your hands with a paintbrush and empty canvas in front of you, and a beautiful picture trapped in your mind.
Going to work today, I spoke to a patient in the medical intensive care unit of the hospital I work for. She had tubes running into her nose, and was barely conscious when I came to see her. I was only there to find out what she wanted to eat, but as it often happens, I found some other things as well. I called her name and she opened her eyes just enough to see me. I talked to her about the food she might like for Thursday, and she was struggling just to tell me what she wanted. It was right then that I reflected that none of us is any different. I had known ‘the theory’ before, but this was the proof. We all simply struggle with different things. What is hard for me is easy for you, and vice versa. It is funny then, that when I sat almost completely silent at lunch, how many things I took in that I don’t usually take in. How much different it was when, after all but one of my coworkers had left the table, I really listened to the last—with some other intent than just to figure out where I could interject something clever, as I too often have done. It is also funny to me that, after spending the bulk of my life as an attention-seeker, I finally discover that the best approach so far is to earnestly give all of your own away. As I have been striving all the more to do as I receive thoughtful comments from anywhere and everywhere.
Needing sleep for tomorrow’s mileage, I will end this with two more notes, and then the day’s summary. First, I will acknowledge one point, alluded to above, that combined with a few other things, helped goad me into attempting this in the first place. This is the thing that is hard—perhaps hardest—for me. It is that there are times when I feel so small that I want to somehow prove myself. A craving for ‘the limelight’ which does nothing but speak of a lack of inner confidence, and which I’ve recently begun to view as sickeningly Narcissistic. But on the point of thinking that I might physically be able to handle such a challenge, I was—believe it or not—stopped by that very thing that prompted me about it in the first place. I don’t always know the difference between right and wrong, but I did about that. Don’t seek attention unless you have something you truly believe is important to say, Brian. And there is that. At least 99.95% of it. The second point is, after the 99.95% is done, the last 0.05% I will reserve for myself. The final mile is for me, and the point of it—for me—will remain locked in my mind like the picture unless the first 2000 miles get done. This may all seem very cryptic, but suffice to say that as I imagine things, I am not suffering now at all. It will only be if I don’t finish the last mile that I suffer, and that only until next year, when I will try yet again.
Tomorrow, my mother is bringing me a five inch thick piece of foam for the seat and a piece of filet mignon tomorrow. We’re not wealthy, but she loves me.
+56,225 to 2,155,233 (66.92%). Average pace: 2:22.65/500. Hrs/day: 7.43. Mileage to go: 1,065,187 (33.08%). Approximate calories: 110,000—roughly 31 pounds worth of fat equivalent.
 

Brian,

I have taken the liberty to copy your blog onto a new thread on the C2 forum under the JVC topic. I hope this helps your cause, and allows more people to see what you are doing. I will continue to update it daily with your blog posts so you do not have to worry about that (unless I see that you are making the entries yourself.)

Keep on Rowing!
 

Day 24...+130,263 in 10 hr 36 min row time. 2,285,496, or 70.97% completed. Pace severely slowed today; couldn't seem to eat enough carbs. Going to say some prayers for the remaining 7 days and go to sleep as quickly as possible.
 

I awoke spontaneously, three and a half hours after I shut off the light, and some 20 minutes before my alarm. I am hungry in a way that I shouldn't even bother to describe, and though I am increasingly becoming convinced of the futility of pushing onward, I will not quit simply due to pain or impending failure. I came to something last night, which I am mentioning now as I give myself a chance to drink something prior to my first warm up set--that is, to shrink back away now would be to shrink back away forever. Giving up is giving up, and it is quite obvious that if I did so now I would be thinking about a lot more than just licking wounds for the balance of seven days. It made me laugh to myself when I realized I didn't even have a choice anymore. All roads lead to a hospital sooner or later.
 

hello Brian
i feel you are being very unfair to yourself ,you have already achived your main target which was to raise awareness to breast cancer ,you have done an excellent job on this.
if you reach your intended target thats fine,but if you fall short thats no problem ,no one is going to discredit you for that ,you are already our hero.
so please dont torture yourself mentally ,do what you can and try to enjoy it .
targets are not always met but you are a brave man for trying and we all admire you for that.

eugene
 

Eugene,
I have resolved to finish the time, if not the distance. Although my pace has slowed significantly, I rearranged my work schedule for the end of the month, and with that out of the way, it is a simple question of sleep and time. Success will be to walk away giving what I had, nothing more and nothing less--this is something I think is true for everyone.
 

Brian,

Here is a picture of that mountain the kids climbed. We reached the highest point on the mountain you see here.


 

Please contact the Lance Armstrong Foundation for support and information about living with and beyond cancer. Go to www.livestrong.org/cancersupport to read the emotional, physical and practical topics related to cancer treatment. Please also view the survivor stories. You are not alone!

LIVESTRONG,

The Lance Armstrong Foundation
 

Day 25...+79,694 to 2,365,190. 306 meters short of what was scheduled for today, taking a couple extra minutes off prior to last set before midnight. Thanks go to my boss, who, in addition to being the best I've worked for, trusted me enough to grant me half the day as paid time off without even asking why I needed it. That means I'm comparatively well rested and will enter day 26 with a head of steam in the next few minutes. Total row time: 187 hr 45 minutes, average pace ~2:22.9/500.

I have copied the remainder of this from the concept2.com forum page, in response to a question there and here about one of my earlier comments.

Hospitals...

To be clear about this point, I would like to mention more particularly why I made it.

It has seemed to me in the past that we live in a very aseptic world; that we rarely see the things that in some ways ought to jolt us into a sense of the reality we seldom think about. Car accidents are one such example. They happen so frequently, are one of the leading causes of death in the age range of 1 to 35, and yet rarely do we ever see the aftermath--so quick we are to ferry people off in ambulances and sweep up the broken glass. We don't see the hazards until it is, in some ways, too late.

When I went to work for a hospital in Buffalo, a year ago this February, I began to see these things on a daily basis. Working a renal unit, a stroke unit, another dedicated to surgeries for hips, knees, and spinal fusions, and most recently a medical intensive care unit. To see 40 or 50 patients per day, in various states of disrepair/despondency, much less to see and talk to their families--this gets you thinking if you're the type to think. I imagine I'm at least that--the type to think.

And so, on the silent rides from Batavia to Buffalo and back again, 40 or 45 minutes either way depending on traffic (which I fully realize is faster than it ought to be) I think. I don't blast the radio and figure that anything will be accomplished other than to wind up in the hospital some day with a sign over my head which reads "patient is HOH/deaf." I wonder about a lot of things, and I come up with my own logical explanations (that is, explanations that are to me logical, if not technically so) for why I ought to do this or that. The statement about the hospital was exactly one of those things; I don't have any delusions about dying in my sleep someday after reaching a ripe old age. I don't know how I will die, except that it appears to me somewhat likely that I will do so very much like most people do--in a hospital or on the way to one.

When I made the statement, the 1% jesting part of it was that I work for a hospital, so there is no doubt in my mind that that is where I will end up at the end of this. The other 99% was simply to say that in my view, we most often end up there when we've used up our time for better or for worse, and considering that we don't know when our time will be up, it perhaps should be now rather than later that we put our efforts in.
 

I have never posted a comment on myspace before, but I think what you're doing is so extraordinary that I just had to write. Several of my friends have had breast cancer, and thanks to better awareness and treatments, most of them have survived. Every effort to fight this disease, no matter how large or small, has made a difference. You are now a part of that, and the most impressive thing about all this is that you've done it alone, without the support of a team or organization. I'm sure the publicity about your efforts will continue to grow and will bring even more good results. If you ever decide to do this again (maybe for a future team challenge?), I bet you will find that others would be eager to join your team and work with you. On the personal side, you have inspired me to row more than I ever have before - though it's only a small fraction of what you're doing, I have already passed my goal for the month and am working toward a new one. Carry on!
 

Day 26...+152,293 to 2,517,483--my third best day. 78.18% done. Woke up feeling terrible this morning, ate, got back in bed for a bit and contemplated things some more. Talked to my father on the phone for a few minutes, confessing that I was on the point of considering Motrin to cut down swelling/irritation especially in/around my knees. He reminded me that doing so would mask symptoms that I might better pay attention to. I thought about that, and, not liking the thought of 'buying on credit' with respect to my health (and also having nothing like Motrin in the house aside from baby aspirin) abandoned the thought. Sciatic impingement on my right leg was quite a bit better today; the biggest issue turned out to be gripping the handle for so long...12 hr 15 min, rounding out a full 200 hrs. It looks like I'll need 56 or 57 more hours in the remaining 5 days to finish it out. Tomorrow? Church, to thank God for getting me this far and ask that He keep me in one fairly solid piece for the remainder. Just 5 days...it seems so close.
 

Brian,

I hope you were refreshed today.

During the final week of Basic Training in the Army you have to pass a physical test: push-ups, sit-ups and a 2 mile run. If you don’t pass, then you are stuck there to recycle into the next Basic Training class, starting all over again. Needless to say, nobody wants to have that happen.

I had injured my leg a few weeks prior to this final test, but did not really know the extent of my injury. Somehow I convinced the Drill Sergeants to allow me to take the final physical test even though I was still on crutches (I was able to get around without the crutches, but was supposed to be using them to keep load bearing off the leg.)

On that day, the push-ups went okay; the sit-ups were not quite as good; and then came the 2 mile run. Every step hurt. I started that run knowing that a few minutes of suffering were all that stood between me and another 8 weeks of Basic Training. I was determined to finish that run.

It was only a short 2 miles around the track, but it seemed like an eternity. I was doing my best to just keep going; willing my body to move by sheer determination of mind. By the start of the second mile I was the only one left on the track (that’s how slowly I was going.) Then, from the sidelines, one of the Drill Sergeants came running up alongside me. He didn’t do any “cheering me on”, so to speak. No, “You can do it….just a little bit farther…” or anything like that. He just ran with me; alongside me the rest of the way to the finish line.

I think of this every time I face a challenge. I think that Drill Sergeant did exactly what Jesus Christ does for us during challenges. He is there, going alongside us to the finish line. He doesn’t cheer us along…he allows us to draw upon his strength and very real presence…so that we are able to endure whatever we face, and that not alone.

Philippians 4:13 - “I can do everything through him who gives me strength.”
 

Day 27...+134,109 to 2,651,592, or 82.34% done. Definitely not enough sleep last night, but I keep waking up before the alarm. The exultation of finishing yet another day is just balanced by the way I feel; I won't write more because I need to still enter these into the log book, and sleep desperately needed as well. Until tomorrow, then...
 

With neither foot strapped in, pushing one leg at a time, I managed to grind out hour 3 today--but finding it significantly more difficult than hour 12 yesterday, and having had my pace drop below 2:30/500 for the first time, I've decided to take in a bunch of carbohydrates and hope they digest during a 2 hour nap. +42,208 so far today.
 

Day 28...have to keep this short, need all the time I can get now. +119,751 to 2,771,343--or 86.06% completed. Could only force 9 hr 48 min out of my legs today. Unlike most rowers, I estimate that I get about 40-45% of the pull from my upper body--a greater fraction than is usual, but speaks to some weakness in my legs which I imagine I will be correcting this year at some point. 220 hours 48 minutes elapsed time.
 

Day 29...+143,669 to 2,915,012 in 11 hr 50 min. I thought I would just go until I couldn't go anymore, but it isn't that simple. I figured something would break; something small like a hamstring pull that I'd get over after a while. There is nothing in the way of carbohydrates or sleep or caffeine or adrenalin to explain for me why I can still be sitting there after so many hours. I slept about 4 or 4.5 hours total, I burned at least twice as many calories as I took in, and neither caffeine nor adrenalin last very long. The closer I come to the end, the more often I find myself crying. I was not going to mention this until sometime later--or perhaps not at all--but for one thing. It is that each time it happens to me, as if out of nowhere, a shock goes through my whole body down into my feet and it makes me realize that God is watching after me. It doesn't even happen when I think I'm close to my limit. It happens always at the times when I know I'm holding something back, which is as simple as saying 'when I don't have faith' that things will work out for the best. It should give me faith, I think, and it does. With about 305,000 meters remaining and two days to do it, I might believe that if it's to be, it is to be. Which is simply to say that after coming so far, I imagine if I absolutely HAD to, I could force myself through that much just by not going to sleep anymore until it is over. But I'm a good deal wiser than that now. Now I know that it isn't my will that accomplishes anything, and that no matter how hard we try to do something, we can forget it if we think we'll do it alone. 90.52% done, and somehow doesn't even feel like the halfway point.
 

Brian,
3,000,000 meters in a month is amazing!
It has raised my awareness of breast cancer.
You have proved you have the will to do anything.
Keep it up with 2 days to go. Then ice those knees and have a well deserved rest.

jim hall
novice rower illinois
jhallil@earthlink.net
 

Brian,

Thanks for sharing that last post. If you had been trying to achieve some sort of spiritual awareness through this exercise, I doubt that you would have.

Instead, by simply trying to make us all more aware of the suffering of those around us, you have been touched deeply in the spirit, and through your sharing this experience with us, we are all given a chance to see God in a way we might never have considered before.

Life is so much more than what we can see.
 

+73,548 to 2,988,560 No more until tomorrow.
 

It is 4:27 am here, and I find myself awake again. It is in some ways hard for me to believe that I am sitting here flicking at the keys to write this narrative; my fingers at this point can think of better things to do. I write this last log to explain why I stop, although I have not given up in doing so.
There was always another reason for all of this, as I’m sure many of you have figured out, and as I’m sure there always is. Kristine correctly points out that I did not begin with the intention of finding God; it seems He is very difficult to find when you simply go out looking. No, the reasons were a bit more selfish than that. I didn’t go out seeking a record, to win, or even simply to bring much needed publicity to a problem that I know is within us to solve. Why shouldn’t we think so? Smallpox was as big a problem 150 years ago, and now it is all but gone. It is the things we pay attention to—the things we most want done—that eventually get done. Perhaps not in the way we expect, but done nonetheless.
I was dating a woman, and I loved her. Loved her like I could hardly believe was possible, and had a very difficult time describing—especially as she had a particular penchant for chastising me for being what she called, “dramatic.” Maybe I am that, but I’m not going to look the word up in the dictionary and come up with a defensive proof, as I might have in the past. Anyway, you can imagine what bottling myself up did to me. I didn’t understand what was happening at first; I just expressed myself differently—or tried. She told me once never to give her flowers, said she didn’t like flowers. I tried to talk to her, but we never talked about ‘that’ very much. I thought of myself as a fairly competent writer, and so I used that tool whenever I could. I think I got to be a much better writer along the way because of doing so—it is the kind of tool that becomes sharper the more often you use it. I know she read what I wrote to her; I was convinced that she loved me too. But our circumstances were quite different, or maybe it was just that I lacked integrity or something. Just do what you say you’re going to do, Brian. That’s all.
There were many times when I had reason to be proud of how well I restrained myself, despite that I knew I’d never felt like that before. I have felt strongly enough about things to put myself in the hospital three times in the past, and this was different even than those times. But I cracked a few times, and I look back at those times and they are a source of immense disgrace for me, beyond even the fact that I let myself down. I raised my voice at least once to her, and cursed at least half a dozen times when I was in her presence. Those last I had played out in my mind all the way—it wasn’t a matter of simply whether I raised my voice to her, or cursed around her, it was a matter of whether I did so at all. And so I set about the rest of my life becoming a quieter, humbler person. I knew the adage that “the way a man treats his mother he will treat his wife” and the character of my relationship with my mother changed, first somewhat slowly, but then so that she noticed something different about me. After that I thought, “why just my mother?” I reasoned that the way a man could treat anyone is the way he could treat his wife, if sufficiently pressed, and then I looked back at my life with a horror that defies description. I didn’t want to believe that at 36 I don’t have it in me to change anymore. I believe that people can change, and more than that, I believe that when someone feels strongly enough about something, one of three things happens: they change, they crack, or they die. And so then I set about looking at ALL my relationships differently. I went back to a boss who had fired me unjustly and I forgave him. Twice. Actually thanked him on the second occasion, because in some strange way I knew that my life would have turned out wholly different had it not gone down that way. The guy must have had a seriously guilty conscience, because despite being twice my size he looked at me with fear in his eyes and walked me out of the building that second time, vowing to call the police if I came a third time. I honestly feel sorry for him now. The person I hated more than I have ever hated anyone in my life—against whom I made a vow, after leaving there. Where he described me as incompetent, I would succeed. Succeed so much so that I would raise many millions. Enough to buy every parcel of land around his own property, regardless of cost. To erect pig barns all around and make certain that he smelled just the same on the outside as he did on the in. I forgave that man and even thanked him, not only because my life changed in a way that it needed to change at the time, but because if she ever did something to incense me that way, I wanted to have it in me to let it go. God really does look after me; I wouldn’t be able to come up with these sorts of thoughts on my own.
I saw a book in her room once. About an ultramarathoner, a guy who ran 100 mile races, who fell asleep while running before and nearly got hit by a truck. Who ate a whole cheesecake and a pizza while he was running, and ran in temperatures so high that the soles of his sneakers melted off unless he ran directly on the white line on the edge of the highway. I asked her about it, and she expressed some admiration, said that she hoped to do ultramarathons someday. It went out of my mind, and can honestly say it didn’t come into it again until perhaps one third or one half way through this little adventure. That wasn’t what compelled this at all, not consciously. Seeing the book was perhaps a five minute affair, and more than a year ago at that. No, what compelled this was firstly an attempt to be good on my word. In one of those times that I felt I had an overwhelming amount to say to her and not enough time or words to say it, I asked her this question:
“If you were stranded on a desert island, how far do you think I would row to come get you?”
She seemed to think it was a silly question, and responded that she didn’t know. I knew that I would row as far as I had to, but in the back of my mind I had already divided the Pacific Ocean roughly in half and estimated that the furthest point at which such an island could exist from any point of civilization would be about 2000 miles. I simply said, “2000 miles. That’s how far I would row.” Maybe she thought that I wouldn’t go farther, but she didn’t say anything—at least not that I can remember. I don’t even remember that she looked at me, and it seems to me I’d have a hard time forgetting that.
The day I believed she gave up on me, I made a vow to finally become a man of my word. It was sometime in early November this past year, if I remember correctly. I had fallen out of shape, and started making plans for the challenge of the New Year. I always regard the changing of the year as a good opportunity for setting a marker in my life. I trained in December, but not as I would have liked. Managed only about 200,000 meters. But doubt, though it usually crops up in my mind, was nowhere to be found. I beat that thing so severely that he only came back to bother me twice during this whole undertaking, and when that happened, I saw him coming and went promptly to sleep. Nowhere to be found in the morning.
I set this up because I believed I knew what it was to love someone, and I gave it up to the awareness of breast cancer research because breast cancer takes women away from us—women that are in their own ways and for other people like the woman I described is for me. Perhaps my logic is faulty, but it seems to me that any solution that can be found will eventually be found, and it is only a question of prayer and attention that it will be. For cancer research, this is the way I believe it will work out. The more of those things that get devoted to it, the less time it will take. The less time it takes, the fewer loves will be taken away from us. So it was with a great deal of satisfaction that I saw the poll that Kristine had set up, showing 13 people had taken the time to become more informed about the topic because of the effort I put in thus far.
Yesterday, my body would not go anymore. I did not set the alarm last night; I stopped setting it after it became obvious to me that I would get up when I was ready to—which in most cases has been before the alarm anyway. So I slept until I couldn’t sleep, rowed for two hours until my left quad gave me convincing warning it would tear, then got back in bed and started over again. After doing that three times, it came to about 9pm and the power went out of my system. I saw split times drop down into the 8:00/500m range a couple times and fought my way through 40 minutes more until it seemed to me the only option was to recharge again. At 2,988,560 meters, I stopped, logged progress, checked email, and then took a moment to figure out exactly how far the furthest island was from a major shore. It turns out that the most remote island is Bouvet Island, an uninhabited and small Norwegian island in the South Atlantic. Antarctica is apparently about 1600 km away, and civilized land in South Africa, 2600 km eastward.
When I went to church with my mother this weekend, I had every intention of taking time out to meet my father on Wednesday as well. He pumps gas for a couple hours for senior citizens on Wednesdays in Albion. I also planned to meet my brother for dinner sometime this week, as he is moving to Poland, has been packing, and his plane leaves today. As of yesterday, I had been close to my goal; it was within reach. Then yesterday I felt terrible, and a blizzard hit. I was trying to figure out whether God was trying to tell me something. It was easy to think that I should not be driving here; by the end of the day my mother had sent me a message telling me that two of the major routes out of Batavia had both been closed. It was also not hard to believe that this was a challenge for me, perhaps a challenge of my faith. I ran the numbers in my head and thought that if I could pull off 120,000 yesterday, God would see me through the other 185 or 190 today. But I pulled the meekest 73K of my life yesterday. I thought, “Well that’s a recovery day, tomorrow you’ll be good as new.” I checked my voice mail, and was getting ready to soak in the tub, and my phone beeped. After not hearing from her for 2 months, I saw the message was from her. I didn’t open it.
I sat in the tub for a while, then got out, ate, and fell asleep in front of the fire in the living room. When I woke up a little later it was 11:15 and I decided I should go to bed for the night. Five hours later I woke up, feeling no better than yesterday. At 4:07am, I looked at my spreadsheet and saw about 230,000 to go. I divided that by 17, giving me 53 minutes to rest for the day, and figured I needed about 13,600/hour. I went back to my room, turned the light on and put my shorts and t-shirt on though it’s about 60 degrees in here. I was hungry, and it seemed like it was going to be impossible, but I had faith anyway. It seemed to me that if I just did what I felt like I was supposed to do, things would work out fine. I eschewed the usual caffeine and Gatorade, and got out a loaf of bread and some water. I ate a piece of bread and I remember thinking that I only have about half a loaf left, and that it couldn’t be more than about 1000 calories at most. There was water too, and I thought okay, here it goes. On the point of getting on, I thought to myself, “sure, you’ll do an hour, maybe two, and then you’ll be a sweaty mess and won’t be able to go anymore, won’t be able to sleep, and you’ll need a shower on top of everything else.” I thought that and it didn’t matter because I was going to try anyway. Because I knew if it was in God’s plan for me that I would do it anyway. And on the corner of my desk I saw my phone. I took it up, opened the messages, and hers said, “I’m glad” just like I knew it would. I stopped and I won’t start this again until next year.
Thank you for all the support.
Brian
 

Well I walked away from that last post content that I had described things effectively, but now that the day is done, I came back, read it over, and found it was missing what I originally intended to add to the end. An apology for perhaps having disappointed someone, or for appearing to be duplicitous. I hope neither has happened, because today turned out the way I think it was supposed to. More briefly this time:
I got up and walked away, showered and left to meet my parents, grandmother, and then my brother. As it turned out, I had breakfast with my father and then climbed into the backseat of my grandmother’s SUV with my father driving, and we turned away from her driveway. Not 100 yards past it, he spotted a female red bellied woodpecker on the side of the icy road, which had obviously been hit by a car. As it usually happens, he stopped, muttered “damn it” and went to see what its condition was. Very poor, it seemed. But he brought it back to the car, handed it to me, and I held it in my swollen but warm hands to treat it for shock. It had blood at the corner of its beak, one eye completely shut with a droplet of something forming over it, and the other eye mostly shut and rolling up and down at a slow, erratic rate. As it turned out, I held that bird for the next four hours—all the way to the Buffalo airport and then all the way back to the Brockport Animal Hospital (with several stops in between) after an attempt to release it was met with no response. We gave it droplets of water from the tips of fingers though it seemed pretty clear that it would not make it. The veterinarian checked it over for fractures, range of motion in the wings, grip of its claws, and pronounced that it would need a shot of steroids but would likely survive.
When I got back here, as I said, I read over my last post again, and also read an email from someone who said he was eagerly anticipating the click to 3 million. This morning I was content to believe that I hadn’t let myself down, and hadn’t let God down, then I looked toward my family and wanted to be around for them, too. My brother is going to be gone for a long time. When I returned I thought maybe I had let some of you down, and so I got back on the damn thing, comfortable jeans and all, and pulled another 11,441 meters to finish 3,000,001. Now let me summarize what I think of all this, and then go to sleep.
I don’t believe that I could have done what I did without the constant encouragement I received from the people who sent messages, or followed this. I am extremely competitive, often to a fault, but I don’t believe competitiveness alone will get a person to keep going like that. As I pointed out to Greg, it wasn’t even a striving for integrity that provided the incentive. And as he pointed out to me, this was and is a team game. For me that team was a group of people from all sorts of teams and who weren’t on a particular team at all that helped (including my mom and sister who helped with cooking.)
It has changed somewhat over the course of things, but the idea was dedicated to women who have been taken away from us, and who may yet be taken away. We don’t have to let it happen this way; we need to stop looking at things as being impossible, and stop using the word “can’t” so freely and easily.
Lastly I wanted to say that despite that she obviously inspired me, she knows nothing of this and I have no intention of telling her.
Regards,
Brian
 

Brian,

I am glad you got back on, and cranked out those last few meters.

I'm glad you wrote these last two entries, and shared these things with all of us who have been with you for this incredible month.

I'm glad you and your Dad took the time to stop and help a woodpecker, even if only to give him warmth in his struggle against death. Sometimes that is all we can do.

I thought you might like this picture I took on Thursday morning of a pigeon chick working his way out of his shell. His brother hatched the day before. A little blessing from God in the midst of the endless snow we seem to be having.

[IMG]http://i221.photobucket.com/albums/dd315/kristinestrasburger/web%20email%20320%20x%20480/BabyBird2013108.jpg[/IMG]
 

Trying the picture again: