Almaden Resident

Cover Story

Photograph courtesy of Steven Bethune

Rocky Climb: Steven Bethune rides through the Rocky Mountains in Colorado during his three-month trek across the United States. A stress fracture forced Bethune to finish his trek on a bicycle rather than on foot.

Westsward Ho

Almaden native runs cross-country to raise money for heart disease

By Eli Segall

Sometimes just the thought of running can tire people out. Not Almaden Valley native Steven Bethune, whose thoughts of running turned into a cross-country, sea-to-sea adventure that has earned national attention in recent weeks.

Bethune, 25, returned home just in time for the holidays after three months of daily marathons and 100-mile bicycle rides across the United States during his "A Heart in Motion Ocean to Ocean" campaign that he organized in part to raise money for the American Heart Association.

His journey kicked off Aug. 15 at the Empire State Building in New York City and culminated with a ribbon-breaking finale Nov. 21 in front of the HP Pavilion Arena in San Jose, where a crowd welcomed him home.

Two weeks later, Bethune is taking it easy. Sitting in the living room of his Almaden home, Bethune kicks back in front of his TV and takes advantage of not having to follow a grueling daily routine or worry about tending to stress fractures caused from the constant pounding on his feet on the asphalt.

"It's nice to be home," says Bethune, a middle school teacher. "Now, I can just hang out for a bit, play video games and watch Seinfeld on TiVo. No more waking up at 5 a.m. for everything."

Cross-country duo

Bethune crossed 16 states, the Appalachian, Rocky and Sierra Nevada mountains, as well as rural and barren landscapes and big cities and small towns in the snow and the beating sun during his trek out West. Although he ran and biked solo, he was not alone. Katie Thrapp, a friend he met while enrolled at Cal Poly­San Luis Obispo's teaching credentials program, accompanied him the entire way.

While Bethune chugged away, Thrapp--driving her mom's Ford pick-up truck--would pull ahead and greet Bethune with a hot pasta dish, energy drinks and snacks.

"The agreement was he'd run, and I would do everything else," says Thrapp, 23, who among her many tasks ensured Bethune ate a daily minimum of 8,000 calories.

Thrapp was a true all-purpose, solo support squad. Armed with an ice chest and portable propane stove, she prepared four to five meals a day, washed four sets of sweaty clothes at night, bought supplies and kept the truck packed with food.

"The nomadic life takes its toll on you," says Thrapp, who is from Northfork, a town near Yosemite. "It's been fun. Part of me is going to miss it."

Getting ready

The idea for the journey first hit Bethune when he was an undergraduate student at UC Santa Barbara. Reading the campus newspaper one day, he saw an article about a student preparing to run across the country.

Bethune, a recreational runner, was intrigued and thought maybe one day he'd do the same.

The fuse was officially lit two years later in August 2005 on a vacation to Japan. Wandering the streets of Tokyo with his older brother, the pair stumbled across Japan's national hacky sack team performing for passersby.

"They just blew my mind," Bethune says. "It got me thinking of specialization, and what you can do if you fully devote yourself to one thing.

"My thing was running," he adds.

Bethune, who by this time was at Cal Poly, returned from his trip and immediately started training; he began with 4-mile runs and eventually hit 30 miles per day. He bumped into Thrapp on campus and told her of his plans, and she excitedly asked to tag along, as she'd always wanted to drive coast to coast.

Bethune wanted his run to be for a higher purpose than just the run itself, so he decided to raise money for the American Heart Association. There were deeply personal reasons for his choice; Bethune had lost his grandfather and great-uncle to heart disease.

He and Thrapp started hustling for money, contacting hundreds of businesses, from corporate giants to nearby mom-and-pop stores. They lined up 19 sponsors, raised $10,000 for the heart association and secured $8,000 for trip expenses. They also received $6,000 worth of equipment and supplies, including food, energy supplements, running shoes, clothes, audio books and a hand-held GPS system.

On Aug. 3, Bethune and Thrapp piled into the truck--now slathered in sponsors' decals--and drove to New York. For the route home, Bethune chose to run on Highway 50, which starts in Maryland, slices through the Midwest to Missouri and hits a relatively straight line to California.

More importantly, Bethune read that, due to low traffic volume, the highway is nicknamed "The Loneliest Road."

"That just seemed kind of cool," Bethune says. "It's a small highway and it zigzags all the way through [the country]."

The Journey

Bethune, who at 6 feet, 5 inches is a foot taller than most marathon runners, started at 40 miles per day in 10-mile increments.

What began as a physical challenge quickly turned into an adventure as Bethune and Thrapp traveled from state to state, forging unexpected friendships.

Among those they met along the way was Virginia, a stray dog that approached their truck looking for food while the two were taking a break in West Virginia.

"She was literally starving to death," Bethune says. "Twenty minutes later, Katie looked up at me, and I knew what was coming: 'Can we keep her?' "

After reaching Cincinnati, the dog--who they named Virginia--was shipped to San Jose, and now lives at Bethune's childhood home near the Almaden Community Center.

In late September, Bethune and Thrapp befriended two women in Indiana, Mary Desch and Mary Boyce, who were driving home to Wichita, Kan., from a wedding. The four hit it off after "the Marys," as Bethune calls them, noticed the truck decals and asked what they were doing. The young adventurers were offered a place to stay once they reached Wichita.

The timing could not have been better; two weeks later when they reached the city, Bethune's shins started to throb. He called the Marys, and he and Thrapp stayed at their house. Mary Boyce, who is a family physician, arranged for Bethune to see a local doctor, who gave him a bone scan and found severe shin splints.

The doctor told Bethune if he kept running, he might develop a stress fracture, a far worse problem.

"If you run on a stress fracture, it could go all the way through and snap," Boyce says. "And if you're from San Jose, you don't want that to happen in the middle of the United States."

Bethune was not about to stop; he already covered 1,600 miles and was determined to finish. He ran a few more days and, just as the doctor warned, the stress fracture came. Bethune, who could now barely walk, still wanted to complete the journey, so he called his parents, and they shipped his bicycle to Dodge City, Kan.

Time lost in the Jayhawk State was quickly made up on his bike. Bethune started out riding 30 miles per day, then 40, 50, and so on, until he reached a steady pace of 100 miles per day.

"Steven's the most determined person I know," Thrapp says. "He would have wiggled home like a worm if he had to."

Cycling duo

Bethune cruised west without a hitch. On Nov. 11, he reached Paige, Ariz., where he was met by another cyclist who asked to join the ride: his father, Don Bethune.

The elder Bethune is an avid cyclist; he works at IBM's Almaden facility and rides 10 miles every lunch break. Father and son spent four days together and covered almost 300 miles, reaching Las Vegas.

"It was quite a thrill," Don Bethune says. "Most of the time we had a nice shoulder, but we had semitrucks flying by at 75 miles per hour."

Bethune continued his journey, leaving Vegas and conquering the massive 5,700-foot climb out of Death Valley. A week later, he and Thrapp ended their journey.