Uncategorized – Final Thoughts on a First Impression

The Endless Mile

I’ve had many different adventures in my life. Some of the decisions leading up to them have been wiser than others. For example, getting a second master’s degree was probably one of my better ideas. More questionable things include dressing up in full-body spandex suits for sporting events and running 5k races in said suit. Probably the biggest head-scratcher is the desire and willingness to go around in circles for a lengthy predetermined period of time. In my case, this translates to 48 hours on a 1.004-mile loop course also known as The Endless Mile. Here is my story about finding my “48 Hours of Paradise” and how I manage to survive it year after year.

In the Beginning…

A little more than four years ago, I had the stupendously stupid idea of attempting a 100-mile race. This came off the heels of my fantastic failure at the 2016 Run for Kid’s Challenge where my “stomach” flu caused me to retire after 3 laps of 19 miserable miles. I had set a goal back in 2014 to do at least one ultra-marathon a year, and I needed another race to complete my goal in 2016. I was being lazy and really didn’t want to do any traveling for another race. Lo and behold, a beloved race director, David Tosch, decided to bring a 48-hour event to my own backyard in Alabaster, Ala. So I quietly began preparing for what has now become an annual tradition: The Endless Mile.

The only reason I even considered doing the Endless Mile is because, during my adventures in running, I ran into a spritely young man in his late-70s who talked of the promise land, known to some as endurance races. He asked, “Why only run for 8-12 hours when you can do it for 2 solid days?” Oh how easily I was deceived and bought into the Fool’s Gold that is endurance races. That was a long time ago now, and I’ve long since forgiven him. But one doesn’t simply wake up and decide to do a 100-mile race…or does he?

How (Not) to Train Your Dragon

So the obvious question that everyone likes to ask is how does one train for a 100-mile race? For me that answer is simple: you don’t. Until this year this I have not properly trained for this race. I’ve always managed to get my 100 miles done, but at what cost? I’m pretty sure I could write a semi-entertaining book called “Couch to 200K and Other Stupid Things You Shouldn’t Do.”

The correct answer is that you spend countless hours on your feet in any variety of situations: heat, cold, rain, wind, dry, humid and any combination in between. During the 2018 race the temperature swung almost 45 degrees in a 48-hour period. Your body’s ability to adapt to changing environments might be the difference between pressing on and quitting.

The next thing you do is to learn how to take care of your feet. Actually, this is the most important thing I’ve learned about endurance racing and, likely, the only thing I do right. YOU MUST TAKE CARE OF YOUR FEET. Yes, I am screaming in my blog. That’s how serious it is. I’ve watched many superior athletes retire from an ultra-race because their feet went wonky. It’s also something you won’t likely find out until you experience it yourself. I had to learn the hard way back in 2016 at the cost of a lost toenail and the ability to walk for a week. It was more than two weeks before I could wear anything other than a house slipper on my feet without them hurting.

The final thing you should consider is mental toughness. I think this aspect is what separates most people. How far and how long can you keep going when you are passing a place that gives you the option to stop every mile? That’s one of the things that makes this race so great. You can take a break at any time, but the cost of stopping can be extremely high. If you’re not careful, you find yourself lulled to sleeping or just stopping all together. After a while, the mind game moves to getting past the monotony of seeing the same scenery every 15-20 minutes. Honestly, it reminds me of slowed down version of National Lampoon’s European Vacation. “Hey look kids, there is Big Ben and Parliament!”

It gets mind- numbing and lonely. One tends to question all his life decisions during this race. I know I do it every year.

Lastly, (yes, I know I said the last thing was mental toughness, but at this point that’s already gone) how long can you go without sleep? This plays back to the whole mental toughness piece, but seriously, how long can you go without sleep? The year I did my best, I did not register any sleep through my Fitbit. I registered almost 60 hours between sleep periods. I’m hoping to pull off the same feat this year.

This Year

I’ve never adequately trained for the Endless Mile. Please don’t be shocked. I’m not a runner, I just the most stubborn lazy person you know. But this year is different. I began my training when the COVID-19 Pandemic shut down the world and haven’t stopped since. I completed a 1000-mile journey in less than 4 months and tried to better condition myself for success this year. This will be the first year I’ve attempted this race while weighing less than 200 pounds. Last year I started the race at 227 lbs. This year it will be ~197 lbs., and taking 30 lbs. off my knees will hopefully make a difference on around the 275,000 – 300,000 steps I intend to take.

Unfortunately, not everything is golden. I feel like this is the first year I’m walking into this race without my head in the right place. I’ve done a good job getting myself physically, but not mentally. The last 7+ months have been exhausting, and I haven’t found rest or a break. That’s on me and I’ll own it. Any prayers and good vibes sent my way would be appreciated.

I plan on documenting this trip through social media. I’ll let you see the highs and lows that come with a 48-hour race. It should let you see the fun and lunacy that takes place. Last, but not least, I’m going to leave you with a Best/Worst list for The Endless Mile. Happy travels, and I’ll leave the light on.

Best Things About the Endless Mile

It’s hard to get lost or off course
There is an Aid Station every mile
There is a bathroom every mile
Only ~20 feet of gain per loop
There’s lots of bacon
Familiar Places

Worst Things About the Endless Mile

There is an Aid Station every mile
Walking in circles makes you question your sanity
They only serve bacon in the morning
Other people get to sleep
Fireball
Relay Runners passing you by at 3 a.m. turning 7-minute miles.

This Is Not The End

I have always been told that all good stories should have a beginning, a middle, and an end. I barely remember the beginning of this story. I feel like I have been in the middle of it for months because I have. Now I am not sure how to process it as I approach the end. This morning I completed mile 990 of a 1,000-mile challenge. I am tired yet energized; excited but sad; hopeful and then again depressed. It seems like I am on that final lap of a 100-mile race when you have all the feels. The letdown always comes when you start back out on mile 101. That is what I am trying to avoid.

Bubba Gump — May 3, 2020, or 938 miles ago

So far, it has been more than 1.8 million steps; 500,000+ calories; 1,594 kilometres; 990 miles; 114 days; 17 audio-books; 8 fewer pounds; 4% less body fat; and 3 pairs of shoes since I started the first journey back on May 1st. I added a second race three weeks later that was supposed to happen concurrently and eventually would supersede the first one. Then, the organizers gave me an option to stretch the first race even further. Tomorrow, those two long journeys collide with another (much shorter) journey, and they will ultimately will culminate at the same finish line. A Triple Lindy of sorts. When I cross the finished line tomorrow, I will have finished the Great Virtual Race Across Tennessee 1000 Mile Race, The Run Forest Run 717 Mile Virtual Race, and a ridiculously hard 10.5-mile Ridge to Blazing Ridge all at the same time. During the last week, I have had to remind myself that all good things come to an end. But this not the end, it is the beginning of something else.

I have spent the last week dwelling on this point as I have continued ticking the miles away. It’s to the point where people around me are asking what am I going to do when these challenges finally end. That is a great question. In the past, I just have stopped cold turkey and taken multiple months to start back. However, the numerous miles have dominated my life for the last several months, creating a kind of safety blanket insulating me from a very chaotic world. No matter what has been going on in my professional or personal life, I have had miles to go before I could rest. I have slept better, kept the weight off, and my mind feels a bit sharper. I do not think stopping is the wise option.

The reality is that the miles will slow down. I have friends out there who have no problem covering 300 miles a month or just 7 miles a day, every day. That is just not me. I still have movement goals out there, and I am less than two months out from the real race I have been training for: The Endless Mile. My older brother has chided me over the last several years because I have not trained properly for that race. My best result was effectively a Couch-to-200k in less than three months in 2018. I still need to write that story to tell people what “not” to do, or if they are going to be stubborn, how to get it done. This year, I have already knocked out more than 1,200 miles of total training including many miles in the brutal summer heat. My body’s rhythm is as effortless in its glide at the 3-mile mark as it is as at mile 30. I am ready now, but I need to be ready two months from now. Either way, my older brother will get his wish! But what comes next? I am not entirely sure, but I have two months to figure it out. All I know for certain is that this is not the end. Now, it’s time to go find that finish line…

Not All Gifts Cost Money…

The Holidays can sometimes be tough time for people. I’m no different. This year has been tougher than some. Recent events and a now debunked Santa holding a dying child story made me to begin reflecting on some of my own Christmas pasts…

One of the few Christmas memories from my childhood I can accurately recall was 1985. It is also one of my favorite! Like most boys my age, I loved G.I. Joe. I mean how can you not love an elite fighting unit that couldn’t hit a broadside of a barn to save their lives? Like most boys, I wanted every G.I. Joe toy I could get. I still remember opening exactly one present on Christmas Eve and it was the G.I. Joe A.W.E Striker Dune buggy. I was so excited! It was a sign of things to come…

jigoecarrier — The U.S.S. Flagg, 7.5 feet of basement filling goodness.

The next morning I woke up to find the U.S.S. Flagg fully assembled in our playroom basement. It was the must have G.I. Joe toy and I really wanted it. There is nothing quite like finding a 7’6” aircraft carrier in your basement on Christmas morning. When I got older I heard stories of just horrifying it was to put the thing together. Apparently my dad, brother, and neighbors spent hours trying to put it together. Many of my childhood Christmases were like this one. I got what I asked for from “Santa.” I was spoiled rotten without realizing it. I didn’t really come to understand or appreciate it that fact until I was older. I’m just thankful for the effort my parents put into it.

Another one of my favorite Christmas memories from my childhood was caroling. For several years my mother dressed a group of neighborhood kids up as reindeer and elves and took us to Brookwood Hospital on Christmas Eve. We would spend all afternoon wandering through the hospital singing Christmas carols to individuals and families. I can still remember nurses or family members running us down and taking us to wings of the hospital that we shouldn’t have technically been allowed on to sing to loved ones or people who were all alone. Looking back at my own experiences of being cooped up in a hospital for a week, I can only imagine what it felt like to spend Christmas there.

Both of these little happy tales lead me to recall my most poignant Christmas memory. It still sticks we me and reminds me of the many things I am thankful for. This story takes place nine years ago. I look back at this time at my life and sometimes wonder how I made it through.

Let me preface this story by stating I had just switched jobs in late October, 2007. I had recently moved from being a foster care worker with the state to a facility/group home director with a private company. In December 2007, I was in transition from facility/group home director to executive director as my predecessor, unbeknownst to me, originally hired me to replace him. To add to the complexity, the company was also in the process of opening its second and third facility during the month of December. In addition, the end of November saw the end to an almost two year personal relationship. My life was in a state of transition.

I worked more hours during that month than I did not. I worked at least eight hours every day for the entire month. Most days it was in excess of sixteen hours and sometimes it stretched beyond the twenty-four hour mark. I often worked one shift at one facility only to cover another shift at one of the other facilities later that day. At the time, it was my way of dealing with loss. I wasn’t the only one working such long, crazy shifts. My friend David worked every day of that month as well.

There is one memory that sticks with me to this day from this season in my life. It was Christmas Eve. I was working at our Columbiana facility and all but two boys were able to be with family for Christmas. I went into work that afternoon and would be with them the next twenty four hours. Just like the people in the hospital from my earlier story, they were stuck at the facility and away from family for the holidays.

Dewayne and Richard couldn’t have been any different. Dewayne was 14 and from New Orleans. He ended up in Alabama when his family fled Hurricane Katrina. His mother abandoned him along with some older siblings to go back and work on a cruise ship. He ended up in foster care. He’d go long periods of time between communication and she made no effort to come and get him. Dewayne was a hustler, street smart, and had a quick temper. He was undersized for his age and dressed differently than the folks of Shelby County. He felt like an outcast and presented like an outcast.

Richard was 16 and from the local area. Richard was easy going and I don’t recall the whole story of why he was in care. Richard was from the country, well liked by his peers, and girl crazy. Richard was stuck at the facility because his relative resource couldn’t pass a background check. He was really disappointed to be stuck at the facility. He had family close by, but had not been made a priority.

The last place any of us wanted to be that Christmas Eve was stuck in that facility. Usually the facility residents did a good job of entertaining themselves, but with only two youth present, the place seemed empty. I felt bad about the situation and decided to take them out to eat instead of making some of my facility famous out of the box jambalaya. Well as most of you know, there isn’t much open after 6 p.m. on Christmas Eve. We eventually made it all the way up to Hoover and Stix’s Japanese Steakhouse. I wanted the boys to experience a hibachi grill and all the fun that a chef brings with it.

What I failed to realize was neither Dewayne nor Richard had ever been to a sit down restaurant, much less order off a menu. They had only ordered off a fast food menu on a wall. It was eye opening and very sad at the same time. There are so many things I have taken granted in this life. Knowing how to order off a menu or how to act in a restaurant is among them. With a little direction, both Dewayne and Richard were able to order their food and were treated to a show. I think the chef could tell it was their first time and played things up. The other family that sat at our table managed to get both of my kids to talk and we had a great night. They made them feel welcome, normal, and accepted. It was the only time I saw either of the boys smile during my stay with them over Christmas. By the end of dinner they were laughing and cutting up with the other family, chef, and myself. It was a Christmas Miracle! For a moment, they were just normal teenage boys. I remember getting back to the facility and playing video games until it was time to go to bed. Both of them were in such a good mood.

Christmas morning was always a magical time for me as a kid all the way until I flew the coop and went to college. But this Christmas morning was different. Reality of the situation started to sink in for both boys. Both Dewayne and Richard slept in as they had already opened their presents with the other children before they left for the holidays. Christmas was just another day away from loved ones for them. It was also a day when this situation was magnified for them because their peers were all somewhere else. I still remember hanging out around the facility all day that day. Both boys eventually got bored of playing video games and of each other. Despite my best efforts, they spent most of the afternoon in their rooms. A little after 4 p.m. on Christmas Day I was relieved of duty and allowed to go spend Christmas with my family.

I felt guilty for a long time afterwards for leaving Dewayne and Richard and going to celebrate with my family. I wondered for a long time if they felt like I had abandoned them like they expressed of others. The point of me telling this story is to remind myself and others that we all go through our struggles. The month of December in 2007 was probably one of the most stressful in my life. Yet, my struggles and problems seemed pale in comparison to those faced by Dewayne or Richard. It didn’t make mine any less real, but it added perspective.
Sometimes we get worked up over things that we shouldn’t. We also sometimes get tunnel vision on our problems and don’t realize the hurt and suffering going on around us. What we can be is kind. Our actions will almost always speak louder than our words. In this case, the family sitting with us at Stix’s treated the boys with respect. Their kindness didn’t cost a thing. It set the tone for the rest of the evening. It made my difficult job easier that evening, but most importantly, it made some teenage boys going through a difficult patch in their life feel respected. The holiday season can be overwhelming, but please remember to be kind. The act of giving goes far beyond physical gifts and remember, kindness doesn’t cost a thing except effort.

Merry Christmas and God Bless…

Jeff

An Open Letter to Friends: Thank You

Dear friends,

It seems like a lifetime ago since I posted to my personal blog. Reading through some of my old posts serves to remind me that the only constant in this world is change itself. I feel like so much has changed in the last 26 months. Sometimes I feel guilty that I didn’t chronicle more of that journey here. Last time I wrote I was just beginning my journey into Montevallo’s MBA program. Tomorrow night I will officially end it by walking at the 2016 Fall commencement ceremony.
I’ve struggled the last several days about how to even try and cram the last 26 months into a single post. What I figured out is that I couldn’t. I’ve experienced many wonderful things and met many great people. It has been one amazing trip and sometimes along the way I failed to stop and enjoy it. Like most people, I continue to struggle, grow, and reach achievements in this thing called life… and it is a beautiful thing.

But the real reason I wrote this posts is to thank the people who have been a part of the journey the last two plus year. It hasn’t been easy at times and I definitely was challenged. You have seen me grown and mature. You helped and supported me along the way. You know who you are… I truly could not have done it without you… and for that I am truly thankful.

Sincerely,

Jeffrey Purvis

Something to be Falcon Proud About!

photo (46) — We all have things that we are ashamed about...

979 miles, 33 hours, 12 giant cardboard faces, 1 purple spandex suit, a national championship game, and a trip to Toby Keith’s I Love This Bar and Grill later… I finally arrived home a little after 11 p.m. Saturday. My whirlwind trip to the Division 2 National Championship game was something straight out of college years lore and something I will be telling my children about many years from now (Granted I do get married and have kids.)

The Montevallo Alumni pre-game tailgate.

To tell the whole story from the last three weeks would be like Bob Saget sitting you down on the couch and trying to tell you how he met his wife in two hours or less. It just isn’t happening. I could ramble on about how I came into possession of a purple spandex suit and an old Montevallo basketball uniform… the Falcon’s improbable double digit comebacks against Lincoln Memorial in the second round and Metro State in the Elite Eight… about how two local business owners put together last minute viewing parties so that fans could watch Montevallo dispatch the reigning National Champions Bellarmine in the Final Four… the incredible effort that several individuals undertook to get four buses of fans, alums, and students to Kentucky for the National Championship Game… the alumni pregame tailgate… how I ended up on court at halftime. Instead, I want to talk about the incredible Montevallo spirit I witnessed over the last several days.

When the clock hit zero Thursday night in the Montevallo – Bellarmine game, reality began to set in: Montevallo would be playing for its first National Championship. Just a little more then three weeks earlier, 265 Division 2 basketball teams dreamed of playing in the final game. Through conference tournaments and the NCAA tournament, that number had been reduced to two. My alma mater, which I love dearly, was one of those teams.

pres — Dr. Stewart, me, and Dr. Stewart's cardboard head.

The mad scramble began in the next five minutes or so at the Main Street Tavern as students, alums, and fans began frantically to try and find a way to get to Highland Heights, Kentucky, to watch Montevallo play for the National Championship. I called my friend John Brady and urged him to tell President Stewart to please find a way to get these fans to Kentucky. I know I was not the only one.

I went home that night and could hardly sleep. It reminded me of when I was a kid and the Auburn University football team had a magical run of 20 straight wins in the 93-94 seasons. There is an old saying that nothing good happens after 2 in the morning. Apparently, it was wrong. When I went to bed at that time, there were no plans for organized travel to get the fans to Kentucky. When I woke up the next morning there was plans for fan buses. I figured there might be only one (or at most two) bus going to Kentucky since students were on spring break and it was such a long trip. The Montevallo faithful filled up four of them. The story about how this feat was achieved is one I want to hear.

When I arrived at the game 40 minutes before tip-off, there were several hundred Montevallo fans in the stands – students, alums, faculty, locals. Most importantly, many of them were my friends. They came with their purple and gold, signs, flags, masks, and overflowing with spirit. It was the Southeast Regional final from 10 days ago all over again – except that they were five hundred miles from home. It was probably the largest gathering of Montevallo folks outside of the state of Alabama, ever. I can’t begin to express the pride I felt. It was a beautiful sight to behold.

national tv — Where I was "dropped" off at half time.

I spent the first half of the game in the stands among my friends. We were loud, boisterous, and just plain excited to be there. At half time I was sought out by one of the Montevallo Trustees, David Wheeler. He escorted me down to the court and “dropped” me off with the Montevallo cheerleaders. I spent the rest of the game down there acting as an “unofficial” mascot until the end of the game. I held up signs, “helped” with some cheers, and generally didn’t know what I was doing. It felt surreal. The most awesome part about being on the court was hearing all the Montevallo fans cheer. They were loud, and I think I even heard an old Freddie the Falcon scream out “Ka-Ka! Ka-Ka!” a couple of times.

NCAA mad — The NCAA Official kept me from coming over to the Montevallo sideline. He said he was afraid I would incite the crowd.

I joked with my friends afterwards that I need to write a book titled, “How to Turn Your 15 Minutes of Fame into 20 Minutes on the Court.” I now have a greater appreciation for the cheerleaders and all their hard work. I’m truly grateful for the opportunity to have had such an experience. However, I would have gladly traded it all to have gotten to see Montevallo cut down the nets and celebrate a National Championship.

the crowd — How many people do you know in this picture?

Unfortunately, both teams can’t win a National Championship. Someone had to win, and someone had to lose. After Western Washington University won I was extremely proud of how the Montevallo family stood up and gave their team a standing ovation. The Falcons had no reason to hang their heads. They may not have won the game, but were in no way losers. There are 263 other teams that gladly would have traded spaces with them just to be in the final.

After the game I began the long drive home. Strangely, I wasn’t upset about the game. Instead, I was smiling. My small, public liberal arts alma mater had gotten a chance to do something that very few schools ever get to do – they played for a national title on national television. Maybe Alabama’s best kept secret isn’t so secret anymore… and I’m alright with that.

Week 6.5 Update: Doctor, Doctor! Give Me the News!

A bit off — If this guy is a bit "off" I'd hate to see what his "on" looks like.

Yesterday was my 1 month post operation appointment… at six weeks. Apparently, the inability to correctly count is a statewide phenomena in Alabama that continues to spread. But I digress… I was a little fearful going into this visit because things have been so “off” and that I have continued to have headaches every morning since surgery. The last several surgeries the headaches have gone away by the middle of week two. This time they’ve stuck around like an old, unwanted house guest.

This meeting with the doctor started off no different then any of the others. They checked my vision and depth perception before I got to see her. I complained of the headaches and made mention of their similarity to those I experienced over twenty years ago while undergoing eye therapy. She examined my eyes and informed me that they are now nearly perfectly aligned. It’s the best they have ever been. She seemed extremely pleased with how this last surgery went.

She didn’t have an immediate answer for the headaches, but had several hypothesis about what is going on:

1. The headaches are vascular in nature (Migraines)

I don’t think this is likely, but a possibility. Headaches only really flared up after surgery.

2. My brain is trying to fuse the picture, but currently unable to.

MatrixCode — I wonder if this is what fused vision really looks like? It still doesn't explain why the Matrix sequels sucked. Never mind, I forget Keanu Reeves was in them.

The doctor’s reasoning behind this is the fact that my eyes are pretty much aligned for the first time in my life. However, one eye is ever so slightly off. The headaches may be coming from the fact that I’m unconsciously or involuntarily trying to correct the position of one eye to help achieve fused vision. This would explain the exhaustion and headaches every morning. My mind/eyes are working over time trying to do something they have never done. It is my hope that this is what is going on inside my head. The real question is how do you tell yourself to do something it has never done in thirty-two plus years?

3. Aliens from Persei Omicron 8 have implanted something in my brain.

This seems unlikely and sounds like something I made up to have an option three. Yep. Definitely something I made up… In reality, it might be something else. However, I’m only presenting you with two realistic options.

robert downey jr. — What Robert Downey Jr. might look like trying to act like an Australian portraying a black man in a mockumentary styled comedy.

Hopefully I will have some answers in the next month or so. I’m tired of waking up feeling like pre-Iron Man Robert Downing Jr. every morning. In the back of my head the words “patient time” are still being whispered…