A Farewell to Arms (and Legs)

Yeah sure, you may have been the one to break up with me first, but that doesn’t mean I wasn’t going to end it anyway. I just thought I’d stay with you until after the holiday—I don’t want your friends to think I’m rude or anything.

That said, I’d like to say thank you for all of your kind sarcastic remarks and your willingness to allow bloggers and your wife to school you in running. Your every failure lifted my spirits just that much higher.*

I could spend more time drafting a mini-dissertation on why you will be missed, but others have done so and I couldn’t do it better.

Finally, the Big Ten is just too good for you.


* Yes, I am doing the macho thing and masking my sadness by being cold and indifferent.

A Long Discussion About Things

or…My Running State of Training Speech

I’ll begin with an admission, I’m bad with change. I’m not talking about my absolute hatred of pennies; no, it’s the other kind of change. More specifically, I resist making an easy change even when it will benefit me. An example: I started my new job last October, the week before the Chicago Marathon. At my previous job, clients came to the firm. Now, working for a corporation, we go to the client. This means I went from a very predictable 8a to 5p job to days where I may work from 12p to 10p by the time I finish my commute home. Because the profession I represent is 24 hours a day/7 days a week, often I have meetings at 7pm (and the occasional 6am meeting). At my old job, we had unlimited internet freedom. New job, not so much. Old job, at desk all day. New job, at desk once a week. Basically, I now work non-standard hours and must always dodge the internet boogeyman.

That said, back to the ‘bad with change’ part. While training for Boston I could have done my runs in the morning if I knew I had to work late that evening. I didn’t. Instead I tried to force in late runs and ended up missing several workouts. Yep, I’d get home at 9:30p and I’d try to go do a tempo run—which never went well. Why run at night when I could easily run in the morning? Because it’s cold and dark and sidewalks are not plowed on any average Michigan winter morning. Then again, the same applies for any average Michigan winter evening. Hummm…

Alas, when change presented me with an opportunity(i.e. run in the morning)—I ignored it. I tried to stick to my old ways and ended up frustrated because I was missing several of my weekly runs. Not to mention the fact that I tried to do track workouts in the winter. Yes, I’m stubborn (read: stupid) enough to try and do 400s, 600s, 800s, etc in winter. I’d try to find a clear length of sidewalk and sprint it…in winter. It didn’t work. I couldn’t find a clear length or I’d face horrific winds and sleet the few days I could find enough room to sprint. Oh, did I ever mention that I live extremely close to Michigan State University and that MSU has an indoor track open to the public? Did I ever use this indoor track during Boston training? Come on, you should know the answer to this!!!

So, while I never missed a long run, I never really fully trained adequately. And despite a goal of running Boston at a comfortable pace, I still had a crap-tastic race.

After Boston, I took several weeks off. I’d been training hard for over 16 months. I rested. I didn’t run or workout. Instead, I read. I prepared for the Redhead to move in. I slept late on weekends. I ate Taco Bell, Pizza Hut, dark chocolate Reese’s, and Cheez-Its. And I got out of running shape. But it was wonderful. Simply, my body needed the rest (but not so much Taco Bell).

When base training for Grand Rapids was supposed to begin in early June, I sorta did it. I’d maybe run once or twice during the week. Same problem, refusing to run in the morning and trying to force runs in late at night.

This all resulted in me arriving at the start of my Grand Rapids training at the below designated fitness level.


I ran Chicago 09 at 178lbs. I weighed in before GR training at 205lbs. 25 extra pounds makes a difference regarding running shape. My first several weeks of training were stuffed full of slower runs where I was easily winded. Sure, some of my speed still remained, but I wasn’t going to last for much longer than a few miles.

But our bodies love to get healthy. I began to eat better (read: limiting my TB intake and (and this is a big deal for me) when forced to eat out—even at a fast food place—ordering a salad without dressing). I never die from eating salads. A good change, but one I always institute while training.

If a tree can make an abrupt change, why not I?

But the biggest change was only possible with the support of the Redhead. Together, she has helped me become a morning runner. Yep, every run begins before 6:30a. I won’t lie, it sucks. Early morning running should only be reserved for long runs. Alas, now I run in the am. And I’ve managed to hit all of my runs this way. I’ve combined eating healthier with regularly working out and guess what—I’m getting back into good running shape. I’ve lost over 10lbs in 4 weeks; plus my speed and endurance are getting back to form. Imagine that!?!

Are my times what they were last year at this point in my training—no. But last year I had the benefit of running Bayshore and then Sunburst and then began Chicago training—so I had an excellent base going into Chicago 09. And the goal this year is to have an awesome Boston. Which means training as hard as possible for Grand Rapids and carrying that momentum (and the adjustments I have made/should have made last year) into training for the 115th running of the Boston Marathon.

But really, what does all of this mean. I think it goes to show a few important aspects of running. Initially, regardless of whether you run in Asics or barefoot, if running is going to remain a long-term partner in your life, then you are going to have to allow yourself the gift of adjusting change. Life will always find cleaver, if not outright inconvenient, ways to interrupt your ‘perfect training plan.’ You can fight it, or accept it and make the best possible adjustment you can. And not to discredit the individuals who pursue running streaks or those who have trained hard every week for 75 straight years…but I’m a firm believer your body needs rest.

Second, there is a beauty in accepting that you are not where you were before; and that it will take some time to get back there. Don’t all long distance runners accept that the prize is in the journey and not the destination? Whether it is an injury-induced refrain from running or a self-imposed month of gluttony, there is joy in rediscovering your stride. It is not courageous to set a PR every time; it is courageous to fail and decide to continue—knowing what sacrifices must be made in order to toe the line once more.

On a Roll

Rolls I like: Sushi rolls (especially spicy tuna); log rolling; foam rollers; Kurt Russell in Big Trouble in Little China; cinnamon rolls. Them there are some good rolls.

Rolls I don’t like: barrel rolls while I’m in the plane; Rolls-Royce; Sylvester Stallone in Stop! Or My Mom Will Shoot!; and rolling my ankle.

Half way through mile six on my 17M long run I took an awkward step, and rolled my left ankle.

The good, I’ve rolled many ankles. The bad, I know when it’s a serious roll. This is a ‘just below serious’ roll. But I'm optimistic this is not a miss-an-entire-week-of-training kind of injury.

Things of Summer

We are surrounded by the Dog Days of Summer, but it seems more like a pack of cramp-inflicting, uber-sweat-inducing, make you beg for a sprinkler to coordinate with your run and allow a few brief drops of cool water to caress you days of summer. I personally blame Sirius.

But, I'd like to express my deepest sympathies to all runners living in the Southeaster and South-central parts of the country, who have to deal with 100+ temps today. I think it sucks to have 73 degrees and crazy humidity at 7am, while y'all are starting at 80+ at 6ish.

Sorry my running friends, sorry.

Two Runners: One Abode (Dude Version)

or, Why I have Decorative Towels and a New Shower Curtain


Number of towels (and bathmats) in bathroom prior to the arrival of R = 5

Number of towels (and bathmats) in bathroom actually used = 5 (2 bathmats, 2 towels, one hand towel)

Number of towels (and bathmats) in bathroom now = 8

Number of towels (and bathmats) in bathroom actually used now= 4 (So help me understand, I have three more towels and somehow end up with one less towel to use?!?)

Average number of bananas prior to the arrival of R = 3

Current average number of bananas at any given time = 46

Number of clothes racks prior to arrival of R = 1

Number of clothes racks currently = 2 (one for clean clothes and one for dirty clothes because…oh I just give up on that one)

Number of runners who put sauce on pasta prior to the arrival of R = 1

Number of runners who now put sauce on pasta now = 1 (sure, she puts some parmesan cheese on it, but your pasts feels all naked and self-conscious…I just know it)

Average size of Body Glide container in apartment prior to the arrival of R = 2.5oz

Average size of Body Glide container now = 1.475oz (I didn’t know they made Body Glide in containers that small—if this isn’t instantly funny, do the math)

Average number of individuals in line waiting for bathroom prior to the arrival of R = 0

Average number of individuals in line waiting for bathroom now = 1 (how she always manages to get there before me is baffling—I mean I’m faster than she is…I think)

Number of times someone was there to encourage me to get out of bed and run prior to the arrival of R = 0

Number of times someone was there to encourage me to get out of bed and run now = at least 15

Number of times I’ve seen R while we are out on our own run = 2

Average amount of time spent on Maymyrun.com per person = 1 hour per week

Percent increase in happiness since the arrival of my best-est friend and amazing girlfriend = 1000% (even if I’m without the use of one extra towel)

A Love Letter of Sorts

Dear Shower Curtain,

This may be the most difficult letter I’ve ever written. As I’m sure you’ve noticed there have been some changes around the homestead. There has been a lot more use of cleaning products, putting items away after they are used, and even a concerted effort to pick-up the unending supply of discarded arm hairs and nose hairs.

Can you believe we have been together for over a decade? Think about it, our relationship has lasted longer than presidential terms and an entire series of VH1’s I love the (insert decade of your choice). We’ve seen the conclusion of Dawson’s Creek, the entire series of Lost, and more baseball games than is worth counting. And through that time you have always been there for me. Hanging strong and proud. You never balked at when I disrobed, never flinched when I accidentally turned on the cold water first. Like a loyal and true friend you moved with me from home to home.

But our time has come to an end. Like Abbott and Costello, Bill and Ted, Tina and Ike, and Peanut Butter and Jelly; the curtain is descending. I’m sure you are going to be stunned into silence by this revelation, and that you may protest by hanging around lifelessly; all of these are to be expected. But this change is going to happen.

Not that it will mean much, but it’s not your fault. You’ve done nothing wrong. And, just between you and me, it isn’t of my choosing either. I know, I know, don’t cry. I can see the drips beading up on your liner right now. It’s, well…it’s complicated. See, the Redhead is moving in this weekend. I’m very excited about this change. I’m ecstatic. But she has suggested (read: demanded) that you go.

I pleaded for you. I begged. But she said, and I quote, “I hate it.” It’s not your fault. I swear. Only, please understand, mature adult relationships are complicated. Sometimes things become more than just stuff, but that transition isn’t always noticeable to everyone else. Sometimes a home means two people purchasing stuff as a symbol to the world, a manifesto so to speak, about what the relationship stands for. And I’m sure you did your best to make her feel comfortable; but when forced to chose, I have to let you go.

I’ll do my best to place you in a nice home. Maybe one with a big bathroom with two sinks and heated floor tiles. I’ll even try to come and visit as often as possible. But we both know we are going our separate ways.

So. Goodbye.

Spike

(Belated) Boston Breakdown

Part I: Pre-Race

Briefly, I want to thank a few people who made my first Boston experience amazing. Initially, I’d like to thank Buck & Bunny (my parents) as well as Mooney & Thor (my sister and her husband) for making the trip to Bean Town (or is it Beantown?).

Next, I want to thank the B.R.A., all of whom were excellent and fun. I can understand why the Redhead and B.o.B. love them so much. I have a man crush on them from hereon out. Plus, they (as you will read later) gave me the hook-up of all hook-ups by letting me hang in the pre-race house. Yep, while others were standing around or plopping their legs on the schoolyard grounds, I had a comfortable home with no bathroom line to speak of. Jealous? You should be.

After arriving on Friday night and taking the long way to the hotel, the Redhead and I made our way to one of what would turn out to be many amazing restaurant recommendations from Failed Muffins. Then, although rightly stuffed, the Redhead found a Taco Bell (I did say it was Friday after all). So good. So full.

We awoke early Saturday to navigate the T and make our way to the expo. As Sun Runner calls it; ‘porn for runners.’ I bought a lot of stuff. Lots of stuff. What can I say, it was my first Boston. Generally, the expo was good, but not great. Very crowded and a poor layout. But it was still the Boston Marathon Expo. And one of the best things was seeing the older Boston Marathon jackets, from 1998 and such. Next we headed to Harvard. There, I demonstrated my massive intellect whilst making fun of Harvard kids by reminding them that their football team sucks and that Elle Woods dated Luke Wilson…yeah, the guy doing TV commercials now. Then we met up with Buck and Bunny for some fine Boston eating. Finally, exhausted, we went home.

Sunday I watched the Redhead destroy her 5K pr. But I’ll let her tell you about that. Then there was the successful blogger meet-up. It was awesome to meet so many runner/bloggers. Sadly, I didn’t get a chance to spend as much time with as many of you as I would have liked; and I’m sorry. Shortly after the blogger brunch, we went to see Thor and Mooney for a quick hello.

Soon thereafter the Redhead and I joined the B.R.A. for a pre-marathon pasta dinner. There the fine members of the B.R.A. treated me as if I was one of their own. Something I’m sure they only did because of their profound admiration of the Redhead. They were so kind they didn’t even ask me why I had to excuse myself to the restroom 378 times.

No sooner had the plates been swept away than I was trying to get to sleep for my first Boston Marathon. Yay!!!

Part II: Race Day

Get on the bus Gus. Again, I would be lost without the B.R.A. Under the aegis of the B.R.A. I was able to avoid the massive lines for the plastic poop buckets and prepare for the race in a comfortable home which was right across the street from the athlete village. There is nothing like being surrounded by a 'one person deep' bathroom line and countless years of Boston running experience.

One thing you don’t know about until you are doing it is this, there is a bit of distance that must be covered from the athlete village to the stating line, maybe over half a mile. And it’s a little too crowded to really use it as a warm up—just a little something to store away. (My bus driver on the right)

Despite rain and cloudy weather up to that point, race morning was without a sun in the sky and 50 degrees at the start. Such running weather is ideal for most runners, but not for Spike. Spike prefers to run under Eeyore skies. The sun, unhindered by any clouds and streaking towards is apex, is not such a good thing for me to run a marathon under.

But I was there, toeing the line, and excited as all crap. Fighter jets flew overhead and we were off. I took it easy, didn’t get caught up with the rush down the first mile or the second mile. I was playing it smart, getting water at every mile. The sun remained a steady sentinel for the first half of the race.

As I was approaching the fabled Wellesley College, the amatory girls could be heard screaming like crazy. This part of the race was amazing, but I ran swiftly through the sea of sirens without stopping—my iPod serving as Odyssues' wax. Moreover, I knew my sweet reward awaited at the finish line.

Alas, despite the massive surge in adrenaline, it was around the half-way point where I had to take stock. I knew I had to slow down, or push forward and risk a disastrous result; also, I knew I was already beginning to cramp.

I slowed a bit, and cruised into the Newton Hill, where the cramps exploded at the first uphill. I pulled aside, tried to relax and stretch them out—but nothing worked. I started moving again and could run at a slow pace, but when I tried to push it, the calfs cramped up. I blame Nitmos.

This is where the weather and the hills bogged down my race, but not my spirits. I just kept smiling knowing Buck and Bunny were at the end of mile 22. I stopped to say hi, and continued to pick off the last few miles—making sure to walk through each water station and drink and entire cup of water (and sometimes some Gatorade).

When the legs cramped up, I walked a bit. I took the time to enjoy the entire experience and the crowd. The crowds were amazing everywhere, and even more so in Boston College. Nothing like drunken college fans ‘encouraging’ you on.

Finally, I turned the last corner and began my lookout for the Redhead—whom I noticed and kissed with great excitement. Then, I made my way down the last .2 miles (or so) and finished. Exhausted, battered, thrilled, and victorious.

I didn’t kill this course by any means, it was one of my slowest time I ever run; but I didn’t let the course kill me either. I took what I could from that day with the knowledge that I’ll be back again.