Steven Cannon - 40 DAYS: Life, Love, Loss and A Historic Run Around One of the Worlds Largest Lakes

Little did I know,
my next adventure would take me

40 Days

By

Steve M. Cannon

No part of this publication may be reproduced in whole or in part, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form, by any means electronic, mechanical, printing, photocopying, recording, chiseling in stone, or otherwise, without the written permission from the publisher, except for the inclusion of brief quotations in a review. For information regarding permission contact the publisher.

Copyright 2015 by Steve M. Cannon All rights reserved.

ISBN: 978-1-942810-05-6

For Cancer Fighters, Dreamers, and Believers Everywhere

Steve Cannon runs. He does not actually call himself a runner though, and thinks of himself more as an adventurer. He has completed the Tuscobia Winter 150 twice on his fat bike, and has biked the Actif Epica and the 2016 Arrowhead 135 .

In 2016, he was inducted into The Order of the Hrimthurs , the ultra-endurance winter triple crown. He has run nearly one hundred marathons, has tamed 36-hour adventure races, has failed and nearly died on the Yukon River Quest , and finished the Equalizer 24-hour endurance run. In 2004, he rode his bike to the start line of the Deadwood Mickleson Trail Marathon in South Dakota...from Iowa.

He has completed 18 RAGBRAIs and five Ride the Rockies, and has ridden the gravel four times in the Dirty Kanza 200 . In 2009 he ran across his home state of Iowa (292 miles in 11 days) and was the first person ever to run around the great Lake Michigan (1037 miles in 40 days), averaging a marathon's distance a day.

His adventures have raised money for Livestrong, Camp Kesem and Above and Beyond Cancer. His run around Lake Michigan in 2012 was covered by Iowa Public Radio , Huffington Post, and WGN Radio, and is the subject of this book, Forty Days.

Steve's adventures have led him to unique insights into setting goals, dreaming big dreams, challenging oneself, and uncovering the universal laws which apply to success in all things. He shares these insights through his speaking, coaching, and online courses.

You can learn more at www.expandyourpossible.com .

Years of running led me to this place. How had this become my life? Would I have what it took to make this run? Had my appetite for adventure set me up for an epic fail? I never ran in high school or college. I hated running. Many years ago, I ran a 5k just to meet girls after moving to Colorado. Now this? What the hell was I thinking?!?!

I sat alone at the end of the bed in the Chicago Hilton contemplating those questions. The alarm would not blast for a few more hours; I had set it the night before, knowing I would not need it. It was May 27th, at 4:30 in the morning. In just five hours I would begin my attempt to become the first person to run around Lake Michigan. The journey would cover over a thousand miles and be equal to running a marathon a day for forty straight days.

I wished that I could sleep those few remaining hours, but my brain was in overdrive. Every effort at meditation was quickly interrupted. What am I doing? Am I crazy? What if I fail? Its so hot! I might not be able to do this with two healthy feet, let alone two injured ones. Months of training had resulted in a nagging case of plantar fasciitis, an inflammation of the ligaments running from the heel to the arch of the foot.

As one doubt would leave me, two more would take its place. I took a few deep breaths and asked for the strength to make it through Day One. If this venture was going to succeed, staying in the moment would be crucial, one day, one hour, one step at a time. We can all take one step, I reminded myself.

To keep taking those steps, I would need to eat. Eight thousand calories was the number my team and I had reached through testing and months of training. We determined that Id burn about 700 calories an hour running at a pace of ten to twelve minutes per mile. This would not be a race, far from it. A race would demand a much faster pace and burn many more calories. A faster pace would also put far more stress on my body. The only goal was to reach Day Two in as close to the same shape as I had been on Day One. This would require two things: patience and calories. To disregard either of these would eventually result in failure. Run too fast, and the body would break down physically. Consume too few calories, and the body would not recover in time to allow another day of twenty-six miles.

Three years earlier, while running across my home state of Iowa, I had learned this lesson well. It was the eighth day of an eleven-day marathon journey to raise money for the Livestrong Foundation. The temperatures had been challenging. Highs near 100 degrees and equally nasty humidity made the going tough. Eating was a real issue in those conditions. My body temperature soared, and the first casualty was my appetite. I didnt feel like eating, so I didnt. Not getting enough calories was like firing a gun where the bullet didnt hit until a few days later. I was in big trouble; I just didnt know it.

I had just passed the 200 mile mark and had stopped to celebrate with what I hoped would be a few cheeseburgers. Once in the cafe, it took time for me to be able to eat, but slowly it became possible. By all accounts I should have been starving, and I loved cheeseburgers back then. One burger, some fries, and a Pepsi were all I could handle. When we left the cafe, I started feeling super tired. I didnt want to ask the support crew to stop, but I was suddenly trashed. The bullet was in the air and closing in on me. I laid down in the RV for an hour-long nap. When I woke up, I didnt feel much better, but I was used to that. I got up and started moving again.

A mile or so down the road, a sharp pain shot out from just above my knee on the lower outside portion of my thigh. Theres a saying in ultra-running, If something hurts, dont pay too much attention to it. Something else will take its place soon enough. It was a good rule and surprisingly true. The point of the saying is to accept occasional discomfort, as it will pass. So I did just that. This time, however, it did not pass. The pain was odd; it was moving very slowly, like a worm looking for a place to call home. I tried to ignore it as I had so many other discomforts, but this was different. The sensation had moved nearly halfway up my outer thigh when it found its home. The bullet had just hit me. The pain stopped me in my tracks. The past few days of not getting enough food into the tank had left my body no option but to shut down. I would spend the rest of that days seven miles and the entire twenty-eight miles the next day forced to walk. That was only an eleven-day run. This would be forty potentially hotter days.

Navy Pier in Chicago was to be the launch site for the run, Harry Carays Tavern to be exact. Harry Caray had been a sportscaster whose career had culminated in a decade and a half stint as the popular announcer for the Chicago Cubs, and I have been a lifelong Chicago Cubs fan. My dedication to the Cubs was linked with memories of my Grandma Rachel and Grandpa Bill, who had been a very special part of my life. I was lucky to be able to spend a lot of time with them while they were alive. I can still remember Grandma going to bed on those summer nights listening to the Cubbies and Harry Caray on her bedside radio. She died years ago from lung cancer. I wanted to run for her and for everyone dealing with this terrible disease. She would have thought it was pretty cool starting at Harry Carays.